Crime reports courtesy of, naturally, the SF Appeal.
Wednesday, 8/11/10
1:25pm: A man was at a bus stop on the 3200 block of 19th Ave. with friends when he was reportedly approached by three men and robbed at gunpoint. There were no injuries and no arrests have been made.
We move quickly, quietly. We are the wind. We know the 28 bus never, ever comes, so our victims will be there. "Hail, there, fellow traveler! Now then, unburden yourself of your valuables, lest ye be as damaged and lame as the Muni bus you wait for." We disappear into the fog. Injuries are for amateurs.
3:18pm: A woman was reportedly robbed at 808 Brannan St. by two people. The suspects allegedly drove up on motorcycles & stole two shopping bags containing jewelry. An arrest was made and there were no injuries.
The motorcycle is a mosquito of crime; we use it to buzz our victim, extract our lifeblood, and fly erratically away before she can slap us. Two shopping bags containing jewelry! Two shopping bags of delicious blood. You cannot arrest the wind.
3:30pm: A man was sitting in his room in the 100 block of South Hill Blvd. when another man reportedly entered his home, punched him, & then covered him with towels. The suspect then allegedly ransacked the house. No arrests were made and there were no injuries.
Long ago, when we began, we often puzzled about how to keep the victim quiet and compliant. It took months before we hit on the answer: towels. For all are powerless before the lure of a freshly-laundered towel, still warm from the dryer. “Robbed?,” they say. “I’m not being robbed. I’m being swaddled in love. Whatever they take, it is a fair price.”
Thursday, 8/12/10
12:45am: A man was riding her bike on eastbound 25th and Alabama when he was approached by four men who reportedly pushed him from his bike and then robbed him. The suspects then fled westbound. No arrests have been made and there were minor injuries.
WHOOPS! That’s your fault, not mine, my friend. Look, you’ve fallen from your bike. Perhaps you did not know this, but any property you lose on the way down belongs to whomever might claim it. This lighter, for example! It is mine now. I must go.
1:10am: A man was walking on Mission & 30 St. and was reportedly robbed and assaulted by four other men. The victim reportedly blacked out and woke up in pain, only to notice that his property was missing. No arrests have been made. The victim sustained non-life threatening injuries and was taken to the hospital.
We have been perfecting the Blackout Device for several years. When completed, we will be able to aim it at the cranium or torso of any walking man and render him Blacked Out for up to 25 minutes. Pending completion of the Blackout Device, we use this sock filled with nickels instead. Our apologies; when the Device is complete, hospital visits will be unnecessary.
12:11pm: A man was reportedly beat up by a man and a woman on the 2000 block of 25th St. The suspects allegedly took the man's jacket and wallet. No arrests have been made and there were minor injuries.
It is hard not to laugh when Griselda beats up a man. "Ho, ho," she chortles, raining blows upon him with her tiny balled fists. They look like persimmons under the flickering streetlamp. We know the man will say “I was beaten by a woman…..oh, AND A MAN.” Griselda and I know the truth.
Friday, 8/13/10
1:02am: A man walked into a liquor store on the 200 block of Valencia St. and reportedly robbed it at gunpoint. An arrest has been made and there were no injuries.
Our mistake was sending Terrence in to do a Nigel job. That mistake will not be repeated, I assure you.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Mad Men #3: Mysterious Origins of the Bro-Date Revealed!
Let me preface this by saying that this week’s recap is brought to you under Conditions of Extreme Hardship (or maybe that should be Condiciones de Extrema Dureza), because I conformed to the worst stereotypes and contracted some kind of horrible affliction in Mexico that continued to trouble me through last night, when I finally had the opportunity to watch this week’s episode. Nevertheless, I soldiered on, putting aside my own well-being so that you might get this recap. Like you care or anything.)
Poor Joan. All she wants to do is have a normal life with a normal guy and a normal baby and everything else a 1964 woman might want and instead she gets stuck with a history of non-medically-approved abortions and a chain-smoking gyno and a husband whose finest moment was getting hit over the back of the head with a vase. And mean old Lane Pryce won’t even give her a couple of days off in January! Karma’s going to come get you, you bloody twat!
Now we are interrupted by a scene from “The Spy Who Loved Me.” Oh no, wait, that’s Don driving down the coast in his convertible. It’s so jarring when the show leaves Manhattan. Brooklyn’s like a strange and distant land to these people. OK, we’re going back to see the Real Don Draper’s Wife. She now comes equipped with a Hottie Niece who goes to Cal and has grass. That’s ridiculous! Blonde chicks never buy their own drugs! Real Don Draper’s Wife, DD, and Hottie Steph go to some bar. In the background, people are dancing like it’s Arnold’s from “Happy Days.” Steph’s a pistol! Sure, she’s all college-lefty now but you fast forward to today and you know she’s living in a retrirement community in Arizona and bitching about illegal immigrants. Later, natch, DD puts the moves on when he gives her a ride home. He was right, she did get picked up by some creep! She uses the old Your-Fake-Identity’s-Wife-Has-Cancer-And-We-Haven’t-Told-Her-Yet dodge. Boy, if I had a nickel. Hey, Don, maybe not the best time to light up a smoke!
Following the dawn light wash across the set like my high school production of Death of a Salesman, we see that DD has chosen to paint the interior of RDDW’s house aquamarine whilst wearing boxers and blowing mad clouds with her. Too bad Dark Side of the Moon hasn’t been invented yet! That might confuse and frighten them, since the most complicated musical thing they’ve ever heard is “White Christmas.” Anyway, Sis comes around and DD gets all up in her grill and says she’s gotta tell RDDW about the cancer or he will and Sis is all “The fuck I will, the fuck business is it of yours motherfucker” and DD says “I make it my business bitch” and Sis says something else I forget and DD chickens out anyway.
Back to NYC, WHEW. I don’t like the California scenes. Joan is GOING OFF on Lane. Here comes the karma! There’s been a flower mixup and Lane’s wife has gotten the card that says “Joan, you are the finely chopped dates in my sticky toffee pudding” or something like that. Anyway, so much for Lane’s marriage! Just as well, she was a bitch.
All this shit was just prelude, though, to what might be the greatest sequence of scenes in Mad Men history: Don and Lane’s Most Excellent Bro-Date!!!!! The Boyzzzz get started by splitting a fine-ass bottle o’ whiskey, then head out to catch Godzilla, taking along the rest of the bottle in a Mega-Flask. I was heartened to see that, even in 1964, guys observed the one-chair-between-them bro-distance. They’re all shitfaced and talking shit in the theater like they at the Metreon or something. If Don had a laser pointer it’d be perfect. Anyway, then on to some dinner where Lane does this:
TIME FOR SOME HOOKERS. First, let’s stop and see some standup comedy! “Hey, you ever notice how rigid and confining our gender roles are? What’s up with that?” No, instead he makes gay jokes at DD and Lane! Boy are you way off, Mr. Proto-Comedian! See, here come the hookers now! Anyway, they all head back to DD’s bachelor pad and all I can say is I hope Hooker #2 isn’t a slapper too or Lane’s in for a big surprise. And only $25? That's a bargain, even by 1964 standards. OK, that's enough.
Poor Joan. All she wants to do is have a normal life with a normal guy and a normal baby and everything else a 1964 woman might want and instead she gets stuck with a history of non-medically-approved abortions and a chain-smoking gyno and a husband whose finest moment was getting hit over the back of the head with a vase. And mean old Lane Pryce won’t even give her a couple of days off in January! Karma’s going to come get you, you bloody twat!
Now we are interrupted by a scene from “The Spy Who Loved Me.” Oh no, wait, that’s Don driving down the coast in his convertible. It’s so jarring when the show leaves Manhattan. Brooklyn’s like a strange and distant land to these people. OK, we’re going back to see the Real Don Draper’s Wife. She now comes equipped with a Hottie Niece who goes to Cal and has grass. That’s ridiculous! Blonde chicks never buy their own drugs! Real Don Draper’s Wife, DD, and Hottie Steph go to some bar. In the background, people are dancing like it’s Arnold’s from “Happy Days.” Steph’s a pistol! Sure, she’s all college-lefty now but you fast forward to today and you know she’s living in a retrirement community in Arizona and bitching about illegal immigrants. Later, natch, DD puts the moves on when he gives her a ride home. He was right, she did get picked up by some creep! She uses the old Your-Fake-Identity’s-Wife-Has-Cancer-And-We-Haven’t-Told-Her-Yet dodge. Boy, if I had a nickel. Hey, Don, maybe not the best time to light up a smoke!
Following the dawn light wash across the set like my high school production of Death of a Salesman, we see that DD has chosen to paint the interior of RDDW’s house aquamarine whilst wearing boxers and blowing mad clouds with her. Too bad Dark Side of the Moon hasn’t been invented yet! That might confuse and frighten them, since the most complicated musical thing they’ve ever heard is “White Christmas.” Anyway, Sis comes around and DD gets all up in her grill and says she’s gotta tell RDDW about the cancer or he will and Sis is all “The fuck I will, the fuck business is it of yours motherfucker” and DD says “I make it my business bitch” and Sis says something else I forget and DD chickens out anyway.
Back to NYC, WHEW. I don’t like the California scenes. Joan is GOING OFF on Lane. Here comes the karma! There’s been a flower mixup and Lane’s wife has gotten the card that says “Joan, you are the finely chopped dates in my sticky toffee pudding” or something like that. Anyway, so much for Lane’s marriage! Just as well, she was a bitch.
All this shit was just prelude, though, to what might be the greatest sequence of scenes in Mad Men history: Don and Lane’s Most Excellent Bro-Date!!!!! The Boyzzzz get started by splitting a fine-ass bottle o’ whiskey, then head out to catch Godzilla, taking along the rest of the bottle in a Mega-Flask. I was heartened to see that, even in 1964, guys observed the one-chair-between-them bro-distance. They’re all shitfaced and talking shit in the theater like they at the Metreon or something. If Don had a laser pointer it’d be perfect. Anyway, then on to some dinner where Lane does this:
TIME FOR SOME HOOKERS. First, let’s stop and see some standup comedy! “Hey, you ever notice how rigid and confining our gender roles are? What’s up with that?” No, instead he makes gay jokes at DD and Lane! Boy are you way off, Mr. Proto-Comedian! See, here come the hookers now! Anyway, they all head back to DD’s bachelor pad and all I can say is I hope Hooker #2 isn’t a slapper too or Lane’s in for a big surprise. And only $25? That's a bargain, even by 1964 standards. OK, that's enough.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
I have returned to the US now
A few observations from an all-inclusive resort in Los Cabos, Mexico:
- When you give people all the free booze they want, they take advantage of it. Amongst all the visibly drunk people, my favorite was the Overtanned Middle-Aged Blonde who tottered around, followed at a discreet distance by hotel staff trying to make sure she didn't faceplant in the shrubbery or pass out on the pathway, I assume. We saw her the next night, too, sitting there, her head repeatedly falling forward onto the bar. Girlfriend needs to learn a little about pacing.
- No one ever drinks pina coladas unless they're on vacation somewhere tropical, when some people only drink pina coladas. (Or pinas coladas, as the case may be).
- Gotta hand it to the staff, though; in the face of dealing with a shitload of drunk Ugly Americans, they were totally nice and cheerful and just as friendly as they could be.
One more thing, as I alluded to on Twitter yesterday: We went through immigration and customs in Phoenix. The very last step of this whole process is when a guy asks you if you've brought back any food and takes your customs form that you filled out on the plane. Anyway, as we got up to this last step, we were behind a Hispanic woman and her two kids and a luggage cart full of stuff. At the doorway, there's a faded red line on the floor and a sign that says "Wait behind red line until officer calls you forward." I don't know if she didn't see the sign or didn;t speak English or what, but the woman in front of us went over the red line by like three feet. The customs guy by the sign, who was either Hispanic or Asian (we couldn't figure it out) looks at us all disgusted and says "Guess they don't have stop signs where she's from."
WHAT. First of all, there was no stop sign, there was a faded red line on the floor. Second of all, what the fuck? There's a cheerful "Welcome to America!" for you. Third, I don't know, do they have stop signs where you're from? What a dick.
Anyway, Mad Men recap tomorrow, I guess.
- When you give people all the free booze they want, they take advantage of it. Amongst all the visibly drunk people, my favorite was the Overtanned Middle-Aged Blonde who tottered around, followed at a discreet distance by hotel staff trying to make sure she didn't faceplant in the shrubbery or pass out on the pathway, I assume. We saw her the next night, too, sitting there, her head repeatedly falling forward onto the bar. Girlfriend needs to learn a little about pacing.
- No one ever drinks pina coladas unless they're on vacation somewhere tropical, when some people only drink pina coladas. (Or pinas coladas, as the case may be).
- Gotta hand it to the staff, though; in the face of dealing with a shitload of drunk Ugly Americans, they were totally nice and cheerful and just as friendly as they could be.
One more thing, as I alluded to on Twitter yesterday: We went through immigration and customs in Phoenix. The very last step of this whole process is when a guy asks you if you've brought back any food and takes your customs form that you filled out on the plane. Anyway, as we got up to this last step, we were behind a Hispanic woman and her two kids and a luggage cart full of stuff. At the doorway, there's a faded red line on the floor and a sign that says "Wait behind red line until officer calls you forward." I don't know if she didn't see the sign or didn;t speak English or what, but the woman in front of us went over the red line by like three feet. The customs guy by the sign, who was either Hispanic or Asian (we couldn't figure it out) looks at us all disgusted and says "Guess they don't have stop signs where she's from."
WHAT. First of all, there was no stop sign, there was a faded red line on the floor. Second of all, what the fuck? There's a cheerful "Welcome to America!" for you. Third, I don't know, do they have stop signs where you're from? What a dick.
Anyway, Mad Men recap tomorrow, I guess.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
TK's Long Weekend FAQ
Long weekend? What the fuck?
That's right, you heard me. Long weekend. I have officially had it with 58 degrees and foggy and so The Wife and I are packing up our shit and getting the fuck out of town tomorrow and coming back Monday.
What about me? I'm a huge narcissist and I need to know how this will affect ME ME ME ME.
Well, I guess the biggest thing you'll notice is that there won't be a Mad Men recap Monday morning because, to be completely honest, if I'm sitting in my suite at this resort on Sunday night watching Mad Men instead of sitting at the beachside bar, something has gone very, very wrong in my life and I should just kill myself.
So, point being, you'll get your Mad Men recap maybe Wednesday.
Where are you going, anyway?
I'm not going to just tell you! I have enough problems with stalkers already. And by stalkers, I mean family members. And by family members, I mean my Mom. And also people looking for my ex-wife, who seems to be deficient in repaying a number of obligations. Should have asked me before you loaned that deadbeat money! Anyway, here's what the weather's like this weekend where I'm going:
Sounds nice, huh? Oh shit, I guess it says "Los Cabos" right there. So that's where we're going. Los Cabos. That's in Mexico.
As it happens, we're staying at an "all-inclusive" resort, which means you pay one flat price and then you get all the food and booze you want included. That's right, all the booze you can drink. And this place has 5 different bars. I can make back the cost of the entire trip on Friday night, I figure. They really do not know who they are fucking with.
So this just came out of nowhere? No special occasion?
Not exactly. As it happens, it's also The Wife's birthday today. Now, I couldn't hope to replicate the moving birthday tribute I penned for her last year, so instead here's this Advice Dog birthday greeting I just made.
Do you enjoy air travel?
No.
Why didn't you write anything about the gay marriage thing like everyone else in the entire world? Do you hate the gays?
Yes, I hate the gays. No, stupid. What am I going to add? "Me, too!" Or repeat that lame joke about how gay people can suffer like the rest of us or whatever? That joke is so played Leno wouldn't even touch it at this point.
You're coming back, though, right?
Sigh. Yes, I'm coming back. You'll be OK. Just stay indoors and turn the heat on.
That's right, you heard me. Long weekend. I have officially had it with 58 degrees and foggy and so The Wife and I are packing up our shit and getting the fuck out of town tomorrow and coming back Monday.
What about me? I'm a huge narcissist and I need to know how this will affect ME ME ME ME.
Well, I guess the biggest thing you'll notice is that there won't be a Mad Men recap Monday morning because, to be completely honest, if I'm sitting in my suite at this resort on Sunday night watching Mad Men instead of sitting at the beachside bar, something has gone very, very wrong in my life and I should just kill myself.
So, point being, you'll get your Mad Men recap maybe Wednesday.
Where are you going, anyway?
I'm not going to just tell you! I have enough problems with stalkers already. And by stalkers, I mean family members. And by family members, I mean my Mom. And also people looking for my ex-wife, who seems to be deficient in repaying a number of obligations. Should have asked me before you loaned that deadbeat money! Anyway, here's what the weather's like this weekend where I'm going:
Sounds nice, huh? Oh shit, I guess it says "Los Cabos" right there. So that's where we're going. Los Cabos. That's in Mexico.
As it happens, we're staying at an "all-inclusive" resort, which means you pay one flat price and then you get all the food and booze you want included. That's right, all the booze you can drink. And this place has 5 different bars. I can make back the cost of the entire trip on Friday night, I figure. They really do not know who they are fucking with.
So this just came out of nowhere? No special occasion?
Not exactly. As it happens, it's also The Wife's birthday today. Now, I couldn't hope to replicate the moving birthday tribute I penned for her last year, so instead here's this Advice Dog birthday greeting I just made.
Do you enjoy air travel?
No.
Why didn't you write anything about the gay marriage thing like everyone else in the entire world? Do you hate the gays?
Yes, I hate the gays. No, stupid. What am I going to add? "Me, too!" Or repeat that lame joke about how gay people can suffer like the rest of us or whatever? That joke is so played Leno wouldn't even touch it at this point.
You're coming back, though, right?
Sigh. Yes, I'm coming back. You'll be OK. Just stay indoors and turn the heat on.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
And now, the Winner of the 6-Word Memoir Contest
First off, I would be remiss if I didn't give a shout-out to SMITH Magazine, the originators of the Six-Word Memoir thing. Good job, SMITH Magazine!
OK, we got a lot of good entries here. I carefully considered each one, but, in the end, there can be only one winner. Just like life!
Here are some I liked:
Allan's "Never got to see the Ramones" is a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of life, not to mention punk rock.
Bob sent me "Daddy isn't coming back, is he?" which has its own sad power. (Incidentally, Bob has some very nice photos, which you can see here.)
Jessica's sentiment, "Fuck it, let's just watch TV" rings true and reflects a life philosophy I can get behind.
I paused at Daisy's "I am not who I say," in light of her admitted history of prevarication, and it added fuel to my theory that Daisy is actually a composite character created by a team of writers.
But I liked my fave right off the bat and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it really is a life story in 6 words. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Winner is:
Leslie's "Sorry I called you an asshole"
So, Leslie, email me with your mailing address and Social Security Number and whatever other kind of info would be helpful and I will rush the incredible prize package worth $5.02 out to you posthaste. Congratulations, and thanks, everyone, for playing!
OK, we got a lot of good entries here. I carefully considered each one, but, in the end, there can be only one winner. Just like life!
Here are some I liked:
Allan's "Never got to see the Ramones" is a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of life, not to mention punk rock.
Bob sent me "Daddy isn't coming back, is he?" which has its own sad power. (Incidentally, Bob has some very nice photos, which you can see here.)
Jessica's sentiment, "Fuck it, let's just watch TV" rings true and reflects a life philosophy I can get behind.
I paused at Daisy's "I am not who I say," in light of her admitted history of prevarication, and it added fuel to my theory that Daisy is actually a composite character created by a team of writers.
But I liked my fave right off the bat and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it really is a life story in 6 words. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Winner is:
Leslie's "Sorry I called you an asshole"
So, Leslie, email me with your mailing address and Social Security Number and whatever other kind of info would be helpful and I will rush the incredible prize package worth $5.02 out to you posthaste. Congratulations, and thanks, everyone, for playing!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
The Bachelorette: Finally.
REMINDER: Today is the last day to enter the Six-Word Memoir Contest and win Big Prizes and the Acclaim of Your Peers. You have until 6 pm my time. GO.
Well, friends, here we are at the end of our Amazing Journey that we Gave Everything Up for and did for the Right Reasons, which is to find the Love of Our Life. Opening Montage.
Let’s get to it. Time for Roberto to meet Ali’s family. Wow, is she adopted? All together, they look like a group photo of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Dad and Bro both have Balloon Heads and I don’t know what’s up with Sis. Everyone fancies themselves a Spanish speaker and Sis starts with the R-rolling and calls him “Rrrrrrrroberrrrrto.” Then Mom gets in on the act and tries out her high school Spanish on him! “I want…3 tacos….in the bathtub,” she says. Hey, everyone, News Flash: Roberto speaks The English too!
Time for a one-on-one with Dad. Oh, Dad’s wearing mandals. That’s a good look for a hydrocephalic 60-year-old! Roberto’s concerns is making Ali happy. He wants to convey how much he “generally cares about her.” Dad “doesn’t see a problem” with Roberto. Wow, are they talking about marriage or a new Weedeater? Oh, Mom’s back. She wants Roberto to teach her to salsa! Oh, great! Maybe next we’ll put up a pinata and don our ponchos and sombreros! Ole!
Now it’s Dead Mother’s turn. Hmmmm, I wonder if his Mom will come up at all. Look, we’ve got a Live Mother over here! Jealous much!? DM’s Mom was a nurse. Oh, Ali’s Mom is a nurse too! OH REALLY!? What dress size are you? Now it’s getting weird. Everyone’s a teacher! My favorite color is blue! ME TOO!!!! ME THREE!!!! We were all born in Montreal and speak Spanish and love Sizzler! THIS IS CRAZY!
Dad asks DM to go outside and talk. DM shoots him the secret gang sign for “Yes.”
You know, DM’s great and all, but he seems way more like the guy you get to mow your lawn than the love of anyone’s life. Ali has “so much going through her head right now.” Like the infected ends of her now-rotten extensions!
Last date with Roberto. Whilst out Jet-Skiing, they happen upon a school of stingrays. Oh, how beautiful! Nature is amazing and HOLY FUCK IT IS EATING MY INTESTINES ALI GET THE GUN GET IT OFF ME JESUS CHRIST I DON’T WANT TO DIE HERE.
Oh, I guess they’re like trained or something. Anyway, final date at the Hilton, some nonsensical conversation, then Roberto gives her a picture in a Special Frame he made from twine and macramé at Summer Camp.
Last date with DM now. Ali comes over to his room at the Hilton. Uh-oh, this doesn’t look good. She’s got on her We Need to Talk pout. Whoa, she’s dumping him! She’s in love with somebody else! Roberto, maybe. Why on Earth would she do this without talking to Chris Harrison first? Good God, DM, stop thanking her so much. She’s dumping you, not bringing you another round of Bud Light.
Now we have the predictable post-dumping shots. Ali goes to look meaningfully at the water. DM is crying over his balcony BUT LOOK! IT’S A RAINBOW! That’s his Mom! Just like that time when Kit Kats were 3 for 99 cents at the 7-Eleven! That was Mom too! And my car stopped leaking oil! Mom. Anyway, Chris gets on a boat and heads back to Cape Cod for some more ringworm and landscaping, I guess.
Getting close to the end now. Bear with me. Roberto’s getting ready and shaves and IMMEDIATELY has a 5 o’clock shadow. WTF, you actually see him getting swarthier. Then he puts on his Copier Salesman suit with the Cardboard Collar and it’s off to pop the question. Ali’s waiting on top of a mountain, and here comes Roberto on the Jungle Cruise ride from Disneyland. Once again, Roberto is a finalist in the Sweating 5000! Get the Sham-Wow, we're going to need it! He proposes, she says yes, whatever.
On the aftershow, they say they’re still together. I guess he doesn’t know she’s getting a little Matt Leinart on the side! Anyway, thank you for Sharing this Journey with me.
Well, friends, here we are at the end of our Amazing Journey that we Gave Everything Up for and did for the Right Reasons, which is to find the Love of Our Life. Opening Montage.
Let’s get to it. Time for Roberto to meet Ali’s family. Wow, is she adopted? All together, they look like a group photo of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Dad and Bro both have Balloon Heads and I don’t know what’s up with Sis. Everyone fancies themselves a Spanish speaker and Sis starts with the R-rolling and calls him “Rrrrrrrroberrrrrto.” Then Mom gets in on the act and tries out her high school Spanish on him! “I want…3 tacos….in the bathtub,” she says. Hey, everyone, News Flash: Roberto speaks The English too!
Time for a one-on-one with Dad. Oh, Dad’s wearing mandals. That’s a good look for a hydrocephalic 60-year-old! Roberto’s concerns is making Ali happy. He wants to convey how much he “generally cares about her.” Dad “doesn’t see a problem” with Roberto. Wow, are they talking about marriage or a new Weedeater? Oh, Mom’s back. She wants Roberto to teach her to salsa! Oh, great! Maybe next we’ll put up a pinata and don our ponchos and sombreros! Ole!
Now it’s Dead Mother’s turn. Hmmmm, I wonder if his Mom will come up at all. Look, we’ve got a Live Mother over here! Jealous much!? DM’s Mom was a nurse. Oh, Ali’s Mom is a nurse too! OH REALLY!? What dress size are you? Now it’s getting weird. Everyone’s a teacher! My favorite color is blue! ME TOO!!!! ME THREE!!!! We were all born in Montreal and speak Spanish and love Sizzler! THIS IS CRAZY!
Dad asks DM to go outside and talk. DM shoots him the secret gang sign for “Yes.”
You know, DM’s great and all, but he seems way more like the guy you get to mow your lawn than the love of anyone’s life. Ali has “so much going through her head right now.” Like the infected ends of her now-rotten extensions!
Last date with Roberto. Whilst out Jet-Skiing, they happen upon a school of stingrays. Oh, how beautiful! Nature is amazing and HOLY FUCK IT IS EATING MY INTESTINES ALI GET THE GUN GET IT OFF ME JESUS CHRIST I DON’T WANT TO DIE HERE.
Oh, I guess they’re like trained or something. Anyway, final date at the Hilton, some nonsensical conversation, then Roberto gives her a picture in a Special Frame he made from twine and macramé at Summer Camp.
Last date with DM now. Ali comes over to his room at the Hilton. Uh-oh, this doesn’t look good. She’s got on her We Need to Talk pout. Whoa, she’s dumping him! She’s in love with somebody else! Roberto, maybe. Why on Earth would she do this without talking to Chris Harrison first? Good God, DM, stop thanking her so much. She’s dumping you, not bringing you another round of Bud Light.
Now we have the predictable post-dumping shots. Ali goes to look meaningfully at the water. DM is crying over his balcony BUT LOOK! IT’S A RAINBOW! That’s his Mom! Just like that time when Kit Kats were 3 for 99 cents at the 7-Eleven! That was Mom too! And my car stopped leaking oil! Mom. Anyway, Chris gets on a boat and heads back to Cape Cod for some more ringworm and landscaping, I guess.
Getting close to the end now. Bear with me. Roberto’s getting ready and shaves and IMMEDIATELY has a 5 o’clock shadow. WTF, you actually see him getting swarthier. Then he puts on his Copier Salesman suit with the Cardboard Collar and it’s off to pop the question. Ali’s waiting on top of a mountain, and here comes Roberto on the Jungle Cruise ride from Disneyland. Once again, Roberto is a finalist in the Sweating 5000! Get the Sham-Wow, we're going to need it! He proposes, she says yes, whatever.
On the aftershow, they say they’re still together. I guess he doesn’t know she’s getting a little Matt Leinart on the side! Anyway, thank you for Sharing this Journey with me.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Mad Men #2: Creeper Glen is at it again!
I’ll get to the Mad Men in a second, but first let’s talk about Inception. Or rather, let’s talk about the two heavily-floral-scented mid-60s to mid-80s bitches that sat next to me and The Wife at the Century 20 Daly City yesterday and TALKED THROUGH THE WHOLE GODDAM MOVIE.
I knew they were going to be fucking trouble when they started a running commentary during the previews. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll want to see that” and so forth. Whatever, talking during the previews is a grey area but not completely out of line, as long as you shut up by the time the movie starts. Well, not these fucking harpies from the Mouth of Old Lady Hell. Blah blah blah. Actual quote, during a quiet scene, one mossback to another: “Do you like this movie?” OH FUCK YOU BOTH. Finally I leaned over and said “Can you PLEASE be quiet,” and Wrinkled Prune #1 just looks at me. They didn’t talk for 2 whole minutes! Yay! Oh, then Animated Corpse pulls out her Jitterbug and starts making phone calls. I shit you not, I almost fucking lost it.
OK, on to more important things. It’s Christmastime in Mad Men world! This is way before PC, so can say “Christmas” and not “Holiday Season.” Oh, look out, it’s Creeper Glen at the Xmas tree lot! And he’s packing a knife. “Maybe I’ll call you,” he tells Sally. Glen sounds like an experienced dater already! He calls her up later cleverly using the alias “Stanley” and fucking weirds out Sally and me both. He’s one to watch! When he’s not torturing animals.
Over at Sterling Coop, we’re going to have a holiday party! Oh, not a big one. Just a “glass of gin and a box of Velveeta.” Sounds like my usual Friday night! Here we see some market research types, led by Faye. At my house, one of the rabble says “Think Don’s going to sleep with her?” and everybody laughed because OF COURSE but HOLD THE PHONE maybe Don’s losing it a little.
It’s the Return of Fred! With much less pissed-in pants. Oh, whoa, he’s a sponsor now and whatever you call the alkie that needs a sponsor is calling him. Fred’ll meet him at the Baptist Church. First thought, shit you not, was there’s a Baptist Church in Manhattan? Fred’s stuck in the past, man. He’s bugging Pegs with his “women just want to get married” BS. Fred’s not long for this season, I feel.
Oh, great, Gay Lucky Strikes Guy is getting a manicure. Why don’t they just show him planting bulbs in his garden while singing the score to “Carousel”? WE GET IT HE’S GAY. GLSG demands a Christmas Party so SterCoop ramps it up bigtime. Everyone’s standing around and then GLSG shows up. Act natural, everyone! I have a feeling GLSG is not going to get what he actually wants. Except for conga, which everyone wants. Wow, GLSG is kind of an asshole! He squints at Roger and makes him put on the Santa suit and then takes embarrassing photos with his new Polaroid. Suck it up, Roger! It could be way worse, believe me. Oh, here comes Faye! Wait a motherfucking second, is she turning down Don Draper? Didn’t you get the memo, Faye? What the fuck is wrong with you?
Over at Pegs’, we meet Mystery Man Mark, who is quite the Super Horndog! Oh, that “This is how they do it in Sweden” line. Tried that, it only works on Swedes. Wait, Peggy told him she’s a virgin? Maybe her baby is Jesus! Wow, this show is going to get weirder and weirder. He brought cookies to try and get some! Good luck with that. Too bad cocaine hasn’t been invented yet.
Meanwhile, Creeper Glen and Accomplice #1 are…what, breaking into Sally’s house for a little light vandalism? WTF? Sally comes home and finds Glen’s little twine thing on her pillow. Eeeek, he ain’t right. But Sally’s all, “Awww, for me? This is a sweet-ass twine thing, for reals.”
OK, I was starting to get nervous and shaky because it looked like we were going to go a whole episode without Don getting laid which would probably throw the Earth off its axis but look out everybody, here comes Sexretary Allison, bringing him his keys after the Big Party. And…..SCORE! Whew, I feel better now. Then she leaves right away! Can I get her number? She wasn’t so slappy so I bet Don’s Just Not That Into You. The next day, Don gives her a card with a Large Cash Settlement in it. KLASSY. What does it say? “Thanks for the Dick-tation” or “You’re a bang-up gal”? Hey, apropos of nothing, what happened to Teacher Suzanne? I liked her.
Oh, and Peggy gives it up. That guy’s a loser, Pegs. What happened to Duck, anyway? I miss Duck. That is all.
Also, tonight is FINALLY the end of the Bachelorette and that cuts my TV recapping in half, THANK FUCKING GOD.
I knew they were going to be fucking trouble when they started a running commentary during the previews. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll want to see that” and so forth. Whatever, talking during the previews is a grey area but not completely out of line, as long as you shut up by the time the movie starts. Well, not these fucking harpies from the Mouth of Old Lady Hell. Blah blah blah. Actual quote, during a quiet scene, one mossback to another: “Do you like this movie?” OH FUCK YOU BOTH. Finally I leaned over and said “Can you PLEASE be quiet,” and Wrinkled Prune #1 just looks at me. They didn’t talk for 2 whole minutes! Yay! Oh, then Animated Corpse pulls out her Jitterbug and starts making phone calls. I shit you not, I almost fucking lost it.
OK, on to more important things. It’s Christmastime in Mad Men world! This is way before PC, so can say “Christmas” and not “Holiday Season.” Oh, look out, it’s Creeper Glen at the Xmas tree lot! And he’s packing a knife. “Maybe I’ll call you,” he tells Sally. Glen sounds like an experienced dater already! He calls her up later cleverly using the alias “Stanley” and fucking weirds out Sally and me both. He’s one to watch! When he’s not torturing animals.
Over at Sterling Coop, we’re going to have a holiday party! Oh, not a big one. Just a “glass of gin and a box of Velveeta.” Sounds like my usual Friday night! Here we see some market research types, led by Faye. At my house, one of the rabble says “Think Don’s going to sleep with her?” and everybody laughed because OF COURSE but HOLD THE PHONE maybe Don’s losing it a little.
It’s the Return of Fred! With much less pissed-in pants. Oh, whoa, he’s a sponsor now and whatever you call the alkie that needs a sponsor is calling him. Fred’ll meet him at the Baptist Church. First thought, shit you not, was there’s a Baptist Church in Manhattan? Fred’s stuck in the past, man. He’s bugging Pegs with his “women just want to get married” BS. Fred’s not long for this season, I feel.
Oh, great, Gay Lucky Strikes Guy is getting a manicure. Why don’t they just show him planting bulbs in his garden while singing the score to “Carousel”? WE GET IT HE’S GAY. GLSG demands a Christmas Party so SterCoop ramps it up bigtime. Everyone’s standing around and then GLSG shows up. Act natural, everyone! I have a feeling GLSG is not going to get what he actually wants. Except for conga, which everyone wants. Wow, GLSG is kind of an asshole! He squints at Roger and makes him put on the Santa suit and then takes embarrassing photos with his new Polaroid. Suck it up, Roger! It could be way worse, believe me. Oh, here comes Faye! Wait a motherfucking second, is she turning down Don Draper? Didn’t you get the memo, Faye? What the fuck is wrong with you?
Over at Pegs’, we meet Mystery Man Mark, who is quite the Super Horndog! Oh, that “This is how they do it in Sweden” line. Tried that, it only works on Swedes. Wait, Peggy told him she’s a virgin? Maybe her baby is Jesus! Wow, this show is going to get weirder and weirder. He brought cookies to try and get some! Good luck with that. Too bad cocaine hasn’t been invented yet.
Meanwhile, Creeper Glen and Accomplice #1 are…what, breaking into Sally’s house for a little light vandalism? WTF? Sally comes home and finds Glen’s little twine thing on her pillow. Eeeek, he ain’t right. But Sally’s all, “Awww, for me? This is a sweet-ass twine thing, for reals.”
OK, I was starting to get nervous and shaky because it looked like we were going to go a whole episode without Don getting laid which would probably throw the Earth off its axis but look out everybody, here comes Sexretary Allison, bringing him his keys after the Big Party. And…..SCORE! Whew, I feel better now. Then she leaves right away! Can I get her number? She wasn’t so slappy so I bet Don’s Just Not That Into You. The next day, Don gives her a card with a Large Cash Settlement in it. KLASSY. What does it say? “Thanks for the Dick-tation” or “You’re a bang-up gal”? Hey, apropos of nothing, what happened to Teacher Suzanne? I liked her.
Oh, and Peggy gives it up. That guy’s a loser, Pegs. What happened to Duck, anyway? I miss Duck. That is all.
Also, tonight is FINALLY the end of the Bachelorette and that cuts my TV recapping in half, THANK FUCKING GOD.
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