April 30th, 2008 Riley
I made it all the way to the car this morning before realizing that I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t work a single hour more in April of 2008. So, I got out of the car and walked right back up the stairs and inside.
This is no lie. On my WMC post, when I said it was all that I had time for, I meant that I was leaving for work. And, at the time, I really thought that I was. Then, I didn’t. Awesome huh?
So I came back to my computer, emailed my staffing agency and told them that I had the croup. (Not really. Too many details will get you every time. Keep everyone on a need to know basis. You can file this as a life lesson.) Then, I did some homework that was due this morning, because it seems that I will forever be taking a class or two for the sole purpose of redistributing debt. After that, I readied my Nicholl Fellowship application and printed out my script for the May 1st postmark deadline. No matter how many people say, “You suck, Riley LaShea! Stop sending us your crap to read,” I’m still convinced that this particular screenplay is the fuckin’ shit. Take that, you bastards. You will not keep me down!
I was able to accomplish all of this and still make it to Dave & Buster’s for their eleven a.m. opening, and you know what happened next? You won’t even believe it. I’m convinced it’s due to my growing muscles, which I can say with some certainty are all thanks to Budokon. I beat the record at basketball and won the big ticket bonus. It’s true. I did. With a score of 64 points. Then, just for good measure, before I left, I beat my own record with a score of 68 points. I felt so badass. We won’t discuss the fact that I got my ass kicked four out of six times at air hockey. Of course, I was playing with my left hand and I’m not left-handed. That’s no excuse. It’s fact.
When we left D&B, we busted the food budget and had a tilapia lunch. Now, tilapia is something we have the ability to cook at home, it’s true, and we may even cook better at home, but every time we make tilapia, we set off the smoke detectors. This has happened in every apartment we’ve lived in. You have to make some smoke to get that nice, delicious scald. The problem is, this new apartment has sprinklers, so in the pursuit of a tasty meal, we could literally destroy everything we own. Somehow it just doesn’t seem worth it.
In order to send my script to the Nicholl peeps, I needed some cardstock, because somehow I don’t have any in the house. This is not only unusual, it’s absurd. So, we go into Staples. Now, I only need two pieces, so we go to the little copy area and ask if they have any. They do. Then the guy says, “Are you going to use it here?” as in “in our copiers,” and I’m like, “No,” and, I kid you not, he says, “Then I can’t help you.” I was too in disbelief to come up with a clever retort. I do wish now, though, that I’d asked if I could print on it in invisible ink. I didn’t say I wanted it for a measly amount of money. I just didn’t want to buy a whole bunch of it. As it was, I left stockless. Then, I went to Hobby Lobby and got four pieces for fifty cents. That’s right, Staples! That’s fifty cents you will never see. Considering the economy, you would think they would be scrapping over every penny. Guess not.
In between these two errands, we made a pit stop at Whole Foods and got to hear a guy trying to explain the benefits of composting to a group of kids who looked maybe six or seven years old. The best part was that he was holding their pizza hostage while he did it. Talk about a captive audience. “You want this piece of pizza? Okay, well I want your solemn vow that, the next time you don’t eat all of your dinner, you will walk the scraps out to the garden and throw it in the pile.”
Classic.
Soundtrack for today’s voyage: Madonna’s Hard Candy
Thoughts on soundtrack: Still love Madonna, no matter what anyone thinks. Still think she’s a legend. Still think her ability to adapt to the music of the moment is totally impressive. Wish I liked more than two songs on the album.
Posted in I Am A Rebel Because... | 5 Comments »
April 30th, 2008 Riley
When I go on trips I like to rent a car for the time that I am there. Of course getting a car rental can end up being a pain if you have not already secured one before you leave your home. So before you take a trip why not check out Advantage and have a look at their special offers and discounts. They offer some great prices on car rentals that you will not want to miss. So, when you get ready to play that trip over Memorial Day weekend go ahead and book your car rental at a great price through Advantage today!
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April 30th, 2008 Riley
I SHALL SPOIL! THEE HAVE BEEN WARNED
Women’s Murder Club returned to ABC’s lineup yesterday, and, I’m happy to report, the HoYay continues. It started early, right after the completely unnecessary Boxer-driving-fast lead-in. Now, I’m sure that some of you found Lindsay speeding through traffic in her SUV a super turn-on. That’s fine. It doesn’t change the fact that it didn’t, in any way, advance the story and shots like that are expensive. Cut costs where you can, WMC. You aren’t helping yourselves by busting the budget.
Anyway, back to planet sex appeal.
Lindsay gets to the crime scene. We find that there has clearly been an advance in their relationship as Lindsay actually lifts the tape to let Cindy onto the crime scene. This unlikely happening foreshadows the later unlikely happening of Lindsay involving Cindy in a police tactical maneuver. Clearly, a lot has changed in four months. It’s a good change. During this exchange, we get our first sexually-charged banter.
LINDSAY: I thought you were reading Eat Pray Love.
CINDY: I thought you were watching Atonement.
The Unspoken Here Went Thusly:
LINDSAY: You do realize we are talking about the lack of romance in our lives while standing very close with huge smiles on our faces.
CINDY: I want to jump you so bad.
Then, they have to bolt and they RUN to the car together. This, in itself, was a site to behold. I will watch… often… with wide eyes and a tickle in my heart.
Later, at the new coffee cart, which is a place they apparently love more than anything else on earth (what, did the diner burn down, and this is all they’ve got left?), they LIE to Cindy. Never do this. This is a bad idea. Now, one thing of note here is the fact that Cindy paid, and then later, after they all have a spat due to this lie that they told Cindy, Lindsay goes to the cart and has no money and says that she never does this. That’s so sweet. Her girlfriend buys her coffee every single time? Who needs Eat Pray Love and Atonement? Lindsay and Cindy know romantic gestures.
Okay, so due to this spat, which showed us an angry Cindy (when she slammed that copy machine shut, was anyone else like *ROWR*? Maybe it was just me), Lindsay wants to make it up to her, so she lets her tag along to a hostage situation. Like I mentioned before, we have come a LONG way in four months.
So, of course, they are in desperate need of a decoy, and a cop-like person won’t suffice, and some people are going to die if they don’t do something quick, so our brave little redhead is all like - I’ll do it. Let me do it. I must do it. I must save the innocent. - and Lindsay is all overprotective like she always is when it comes to Cindy.
The Unspoken Here Went Thusly:
LINDSAY: Listen, until I find someone else who can do that thing with their tongue, I am not about to put you in harm’s way.
CINDY: People could die. You know, it’s a little more important than your supreme sexual satisfaction.
LINDSAY: Not to me!
CINDY: You won’t think it’s sexy? If I do this little hero thing, it won’t turn your crank?
LINDSAY: Will you wear a cape for me later?
CINDY: With nothing else.
LINDSAY: Fine. Dammit.
So, Cindy gets her way and Lindsay is telling her what to do, leading her toward the house, with one hand ever-present on her back, and I go *THUMP* and hit my head on the floor. Then, Cindy jogs across to the house and Lindsay watches her go with a longing, “return to me, baby” look.
The day gets saved thanks to Super Cindy, and Lindsay goes to her immediately, and Cindy is lying on the porch, repeating “I’m a pancake. I’m a pancake,” because that’s what Lindsay told her to be and covering her head with her hands. (This whole I’m a pancake thing resulted in my girlfriend making a delightful quip later about a double-stack. God, you’ve gotta love a quick and witty chic.) Lindsay compliments her little pancake on a job well done and helps her up, and it’s all so very sweet that I swoon and turn off my TV before I have to see Boxer plucked up and placed back into hetero world.
Other thoughts:
Lindsay did have one moment with Jill. I’ll give those ’shippers that, but just one, and it didn’t have the zing of Lindsay/Cindy.
Lindsay’s guy… okay. But does every love interest ever have to be a super suave and successful person? Just once, I would like to see a popular character fall head over heels for someone that no friend would ever be jealous of, someone they actually cringe when they see, someone that makes them ask “why?” I’m just sayin’.
There was some seriously BAD dialogue on this episode. It’s happened before, but there were some special instances last night.
That’s all I have for now… or at least all the time I have for now.
All in all, it brought a smile. Now, don’t be douches and cancel it, ABC!
Posted in My Favorite Things | 9 Comments »
April 29th, 2008 Riley
TITLE: Inamorata (25/?)
PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy
DISCLAIMER: Women’s Murder Club does not belong to me. The characters do not belong to me. They are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. I have no problems with that as long as I can borrow them for short bursts and use them in pursuit of my own enjoyment. I am not trying to infringe. Though, I don’t know why anyone has a problem with fan fic. After all, it really is a compliment. If anyone wants to write fan fiction about my book, feel free.
“Hold up,” Jacobi ordered.
Lindsay slowed without protest. She’d been waiting for just such a command. Jacobi never would have asked her to leave Cindy if he didn’t have a purpose.
She turned his chair a quarter circle, parking it against one wall in the deserted corridor and walked across the hallway to lean against the wall opposite him, still too drained to stand for any real length of time without some kind of prop.
Jacobi looked his age, older even, and sick and tired and a dozen other things suggesting he shouldn’t have made the voyage from his bed again to check on Cindy.
“How’s she doing?”
Lindsay took a deep breath, though it didn’t feel particularly cleansing, and let her eyes fall from his. She found focus on the contrast between the hospital-issued gown, exactly like the one they’d put Cindy in, and the white robe that had somehow come into his possession.
“Remarkably well… considering.”
Because it kept her vision occupied and her thoughts somewhat at bay, she stared at the same spot for so long that the gown’s pattern started swirling before her eyes. Jacobi’s focus, on the other hand, was steady when she glanced back up.
“It got bad, didn’t it?” he asked.
She just stared at him, until her gaze went through him, then dropped her head. The floor blurred instantly.
That was the question, that’s what everyone would want to know, “how bad did it get?”, and she would be the one to have to tell them. They would ask her, because they would never ask Cindy. No one would make Cindy relive it just so they could be well-informed, but, still, they would need the answer. If they were left to imagine, they would conceive far worse scenarios. She should know. And what happened was bad enough without adding falsehoods.
Now Jacobi was the one Lindsay wanted to lie to, but she couldn’t to him either.
“It got bad,” she whispered.
She made no effort to hide the tears that weren’t going to fall, but were very much present, as she raised her head again. There was no buffering of his reaction. It was plainly written in his features. If Ashe weren’t already dead, Jacobi would be getting up out of that chair again at this very second to go hunt him down.
But Ashe was dead. He had already seen to it.
“You didn’t have to shoot him,” Lindsay uttered, with a ferocity that took even her by surprise. “I was going to.”
“I know,” Jacobi responded. “That’s why I shot him. I think you’re carrying around enough guilt without adding to it. Don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t have felt guilty about that,” she firmly stated.
“Not consciously. Consciously, you probably would have been somewhat pleased. But it would have weighed.”
“It won’t weigh on you?”
Like those times when he came face-to-face with individuals responsible for acts so horrific they didn’t deserve to see any human sentiment being directed at them, Jacobi’s face turned to stone.
“That bastard wasn’t about to see another day. It had to be one of us. I would rather it be me. I had as much right to it as you did.”
That part was true. He was entitled. But it was the other part of this discussion, the part that they weren’t going to have right now, that made her wish he’d just let her take the shot. The consequent part. There was no way that this was going to go down as a good shoot. As much as he deserved what he’d gotten, someone was going to pay for Ashe.
“Now let’s talk about that other guilt,” Jacobi quietly changed the subject to the one she highly suspected was the real reason they were engaging in this exchange at all.
“I don’t want to,” she said with what she hoped came across as finality, and crossed her arms, trying to appear impenetrable.
“Well I do.”
His words easily broke through. Because the defenses she had worked so hard to build up had been weakened. Possibly beyond repair. By Cindy.
“Don’t tell me that what happened to her isn’t my fault, Jacobi. I am the one he came here after. I’m the one who had what he wanted.”
“And you’re the one who let Cindy get close to you when you knew that it was dangerous.”
Lindsay turned her head toward the soft swish of pant legs, grateful for the disruption. The approaching orderly smiled and nodded, lingering on Jacobi for only a moment as he passed between them, and then they were alone again.
“What would have made you feel less guilty?” Jacobi picked up almost immediately once the man was out of sight. “If you had kept her at arms length, or further, Ashe had decided she was a good target anyway, taken her anyway, maybe killed her anyway.”
“Fuck, Jacobi!” Lindsay shouted, looking around to make sure she hadn’t drawn out any spectators, and seething in earnest as she looked back at him.
How could he even say that out loud?
“Yeah, it isn’t pretty, and it could have happened just like that.” He was furious too. She could hear it in his voice. He lifted a steady hand and pointed right at her, and suddenly he looked strong again. “The only difference would have been that you would have spent the last days not with her instead of with her, and then you would have felt guilty about that. He was determined to get in somewhere. When you were pushing people out of your life, thinking that would keep them safe, you also thought that it was someone who didn’t already have the inside knowledge. Ashe knew his options, Lindsay. Where in that situation could you have won? Do you really think that you would feel any less guilty if it had been Jill or Claire?”
“I don’t know,” she muttered. She really didn’t. “I should have just given him what he wanted in the first place. Then it might not have been anybody.”
Jacobi may or may not have understood that. He didn’t know about Ashe, that he wasn’t Kiss-Me-Not. Or maybe he did. It was hard to know what he knew, but she didn’t want to have the full question and answer session now, because it only prolonged her getting back to Cindy, something she was already well aware wasn’t going to happen until Jacobi had said his piece.
“Or it might have been. You can’t know. It might have even been you.”
“That would have been better.”
“Would it? Do you think that’s how Cindy feels?”
Lindsay kicked the floor, the sole of her shoe making a loud squeaking sound and a scuff mark on the linoleum. It was childish, but it provided her momentary solace.
Of course that’s not how Cindy would feel, because, from the very beginning, Cindy was far too munificent when it came to her. Even when she didn’t deserve it. Maybe more so when she was undeserving. Because Cindy loved her. Cindy had always loved her. Brazenly. From the start. And it didn’t take long to respond to it, open to it. She wanted it, Cindy’s love. She did. She needed it. But what if she didn’t have the capability to make good on an investment like that?
“I can’t help but think that she deserves better,” she breathed to the only person she would ever tell those fears.
Jacobi’s eyes were too attentive. It’s not like she hadn’t just put her insecurity on display, but why did he have to look so intently at it?
Finally, he gave a small shrug, effectively downplaying her doubts.
“Well, she wants you, so it doesn’t really matter what you think,” he returned, and Lindsay didn’t know if it made her feel better or worse. “Let me give you some advice.”
She didn’t want it… at all… but she looked up at him anyway.
“Get over it.”
The gruff statement shocked her into actually listening.
“You might have made some bad judgments. Or you might not have. It might have changed everything or it might have changed nothing. You did not put Cindy in that attic. You didn’t hurt her. Ashe did. She survived this and she is going to survive this, but to do that, she is going to need you to be there for her.”
“That’s all that I want to do.”
“Then do it.”
He made it seem so much simpler than it was, and she couldn’t stop the reflexive shake of her head as she looked away.
“You can’t do that for her?”
And that just made her angry. It made it sound like a choice, like she just wanted to walk away and leave Cindy to fend for herself, but when she opened her mouth to speak, she found that the anger wasn’t sustainable. It was replaced by the acrid taste of fear, burning her throat and chest. A few of the tears finally spilled over onto her cheeks. She wiped them quickly away.
“I don’t know how,” she admitted quietly.
She got no response, and by the time she found the courage to look at him again, Jacobi had lost all anger too. He looked almost as sad as she felt, and like he wanted to take it, the burden, from her. Hadn’t he already taken his share?
“He was going to take someone. He was going to do something. You’re right,” Lindsay conceded. “But, what he chose to do, Jacobi… it was because of me. He wanted me to see that. But I just had to see it. And I don’t know what to do for her.”
“Me neither,” Jacobi replied. It would have been truly valued wisdom if he did. “But I think she’ll let you know.”
Lindsay gave a slight nod. It was possible she guessed. The movement loosed another drop to make its way down her cheek. This time she didn’t bother to get rid of it.
This wasn’t supposed to be their conversation about Cindy. Jacobi had known, and she’d known that he’d known, but there was still supposed to be a conversation. Of courtesy. An instance of jubilant boasting. She found herself grieving that missing moment. And needing it.
“You know, Jacobi,” she husked, smiling a little. She didn’t have to fake it. Or force it. She just imagined what it could have been like in a favorable scenario, and remembered what it was like in the evidence room and Claire’s office and the late night phone conversations full of Cindy’s unique take on all things life. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m kind of with Cindy.”
He squinted up at her. Maybe it was somewhat cruel to switch tracks on him like that when he had only a partially functional brain. But then he smiled too, slowly, just a little, and leaned toward her.
“With?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“You know…” she said, her hand circling in a leading motion, “…with.”
“Ah.” Jacobi shifted back in his chair. “She finally got to you, huh?”
“She did,” Lindsay confessed.
“Who knew those walls were surmountable?”
It was a soft segue, carrying them back from the momentary delusion to their current reality.
“She did,” Lindsay responded in a hushed whisper.
And, with that, her soul was laid open. I love her so much it scares me… I don’t think I could live without her… I don’t know what I would have done if things had gone wrong… they were all present in the space between them, summed up concisely in two words. Because Cindy had done what no one else had been able to do.
Jacobi understood that.
“Now, wheel me on back, would you? I could really stand a return to my own pain meds.”
Primed to go at the moment she was dismissed, Lindsay kicked off the wall and walked around the wheelchair. Whatever guilt she was harboring, and she was, as undeserving as she may feel, she still wanted only to get back to Cindy. It was a strange paradox.
When she reached for his chair, Jacobi turned and grabbed her hand.
“You can do this,” he assured her, giving a firm squeeze before releasing her hand.
God, she hoped he was right.
Posted in fan fiction | 10 Comments »
April 29th, 2008 Riley
But a more appropriate question would be who does not heart shoes? I mean really? I cannot think of anyone. Well, except for maybe my nephews, but they are young so they will grow out of it. Well, you know, since pretty much every one and their brother hearts shoes I have been known to buy people shoes as gifts for birthdays and what not in the past. It seems like I buy more shoes for other people than I do for myself. But that is okay. If you like to buy shoes for your self or for other people as gifts then you need to check out Infinity Shoes. You see, you might not have heard of it before today but Infinity Shoes is an online retailer that specializes in selling shoes for women. And actually, they do have a brick and mortar retail presence in New York City, but that is the only place. So whether you are looking for some tsubo shoes, some sweet new seychelles shoes or maybe even a pair of those stylish but practical minnetonka boots you will be able to find it at Infinity Shoes. I see a great pair of Merrell shoes on their that my gf would love for her bday. They are the Siren Sport shoes. But you know what? There are lots of great shoes to choose from at Infinity Shoes so it is hard to pick just one that I would buy for someone right now. If you need to go do some shoe shopping, why not start online with Infinity Shoes today.
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April 29th, 2008 Riley
I probably shouldn’t have laughed as hard as I did when I read this story. After all, it’s all about spousal abuse, assault, and just plain dumbass behavior. And yet, I cracked up several times out loud. Picturing it in my head still brings a smile to my face .
It also doesn’t hurt that the story’s writer was clearly humored by the events and it came across in the tone. That last line is pure comic genius.
Posted in Ultimate Guilty Pleasures | 2 Comments »
April 29th, 2008 Riley
Yet another entry on the list of totally unlikely things of which I am completely convinced.
Did you know that time moves faster when your eyes are closed?
It’s true. And it’s not just the fact that you can’t see a clock or watch a TV show or visually monitor anything showing the passing of time. When your eyes are closed, time actually picks up speed.
It doesn’t matter if you are sleeping or blinking or sneezing or meditating or praying or playing peek-a-boo.
I know it sounds whack, but this is something that I can actually prove.
Think back with me, for a moment, to that wonderful childhood game, Hide and Seek. When you were the seeker, and you were counting to a hundred, did it ever actually take you to that full one hundred? Of course not! Because time sped up. It was such a cosmic phenomenon that it even had the ability to effect you.
Remember? You would be counting - “1, 2, 3…” - and then all of the sudden, it was like, “4 5 6 789, 21, 35, 60, 99… Ready or not. Here I come!”
You see there?
Theory: Time Moves Faster When You Can’t See It Going
Result: Proven
Posted in Theories | 2 Comments »
April 29th, 2008 Riley
Are you someone that has to take B12 shots with some regularity? If so then I bet you that you are no fan of those shots are you? Well, that goes without saying, does it not? If you do have to take those painful B12 shots then let me tell you about something that might mean the end of those painful B12 shots that you have been having to get from the doctor’s office. Instead you will want to look into the new Sublingual B12 Energy Booster instead of those painful B12 shots that you have been getting. If you want to skip right over the chase you can go ahead and get your sublingual B12 here. You will be getting it right from the Sublingual website. You might be wondering though what exactly this new Sublingual B12 Energy Booster is exactly. Well it is simple. You see, the Sublingual B12 Energy Booster is not only a safe alternative to those painful B12 shots, but the Sublingual B12 Energy Booster is also affordable and painless. Sublingual B12 Energy Booster is a B12 shot alternative for people like you. And if you have diabetes, dementia, gastric bypass or are a vegan then you know what I am talking about. If you are still unsure about Sublingual B12 Energy Booster then consider this - over 10 million boxes of this stuff have been sold! So go ahead and check out their website to get some more info and order a box of the Sublingual B12 Energy Booster for your self or for a family member today!
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April 28th, 2008 Riley
WARNING: If you have not read anything about the return of WMC, there may be a small spoiler within.
Now seriously… Do not remain silent on this people! Proclaim it loudly. We are GLAD to have our girls back. And it sounds like there is some potential that we may even be GLAAD. *Wink Wink* Of course, it won’t be my pairing of choice, or of my late night flights of fancy, but I’ve learned to take the touch of Sappho where I can get it in mainstream entertainment.
In all of my excitement though, I retain an element of concern. ABC still hasn’t renewed Women’s Murder Club for next season. Rumor has it, the cast and crew are looking for other work. This is do or die now. These three eps must receive a downright spectacular response. Because I desperately need to keep Lindsay, Cindy, and their smoldering sexual chemistry in my life, I’ve been brainstorming ways to make sure ABC gets what it needs in order to deliver us a second season. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far.
Recording Counts
Did you know there doesn’t have to be immediate show watching involved to score great ratings? It’s true. Recording counts in the Nielsens. So, if you know a Nielsen family, ask them to Tivo or old school VCR it for you. By Nielsen family, I am referring to one of those chosen homes that gets the little box, aka The Grail, that monitors their every small screen inclination, not just any ole family named Nielsen. I mean, you can ask the Nielsens for their assistance if you really want to, but it will have zero effect on WMC’s outcome. Nation, we must think big picture here.
If you don’t know your Nielsen (box) family well enough to beg favors, pay them… under the table… tax free! It’ll be worth it when ABC announces season 2!
How much should you offer? If you have to ask that question, then, trust me, you are not offering enough. How much is it worth to you?
Some things to keep in mind when determining this figure:
Lindsay’s overprotective streak and rampant Jamie Galvan jealousy.
Cindy’s blatant puppy love.
Cindy to Lindsay: “Who’s ready for a hand and foot fantasy?”
Lindsay to Cindy: “There is no way that you are going running around in random groups of men…”
Cindy to Lindsay: “Would you just shut up and let me be here for you?”
Lindsay to Cindy: “If we are going to have a relationship…”
Not the mention the LOOKS. I swear sometimes Angie and Aubrey’s eyes go places that porn is afraid to go. Me likey.
Of course, the likelihood that you know a Nielsen family is slim to none. I have become rather aware of the fact that Nielsen boxes go only to douche households. Since you read my page, you are clearly not a member of a douche household, nor would you ever associate with members of a douche household.
Good for you. Bad for Women’s Murder Club.
Be the Fantasy
If you happen to be a Nielsen family, first of all, I was totally playin’ you with that whole ‘douche’ thing. I just didn’t want the natives to get restless, what with the extreme envy they would feel over your elevated position in society as an important pop culture decision-maker. Bully for you, sincerely. It’s amazing what you’ve managed to accomplish in your young life. So on, so forth, suck up, suck up, suck up.
Okay, so if you do have television decision-making power of household, you must make that household work for us. It’s not enough to just watch WMC, you must offer those demographics that advertisers are jonesing for. So, let your house be a temporary refuge for your sister’s troubled teens. Take an age-range (roughly 18-30) appropriate lover. Or three. Turn your beautiful country home into a frat house.
“Hi-ho there, Nielsen people. I just wanted to let you know, I have ten eighteen to twenty-two year old single males living here now that have expendable income, zero willpower, like to spend on beer and Judd Apatow movies, and just can’t get enough Women’s Murder Club.”
It seems my most cringe-inducing nightmare is the network and advertisers’ wet dream.
Provide them the fantasy.
Decimate SVU (in a simple two-part plan)
Part 1: Go onto any message board where Law & Order: SVU watchers lurk and post that tomorrow’s “very special” episode had been postponed. Make up a reason. Be merciless.
Robin Williams? Yeah, it’s alleged that he ate a puppy while on set. They won’t air the episode until the investigation is complete.
Feel no guilt. Take no prisoners. This is war. There will be casualties. That’s right, I’m talking to you, Ice-T.
Part 2: Those of you who watch SVU must abandon it for WMC. I know this might be difficult for some of you. Why? When lately has SVU been the least bit bearable? Let me help. It’s been a while. And please keep in mind, you don’t have to watch SVU, because just like the original Law & Order, SVU is going to be available for you to watch in syndication for all of eternity.
Threaten them with Sharpton
The reverend loves a worthy cause and a good protest. He’s kind of busy in New York right now, but I say, when that dust has settled, we chip in, fly Al Sharpton first-class to LA, and set him up outside the ABC executive offices.
I know a lot of people like to poke fun at the good reverend, act like he’s nothing but a voice box, but everyone really knows that Sharpton is downright fearsome. He don’t play. When Al’s behind a cause, you best recognize.
For now, that’s all I got. Any ideas?
Posted in My Favorite Things | 9 Comments »
April 28th, 2008 Riley
I wore real shoes to work today, which is not an unusual thing, but last week I wore sandals for the majority of the week and I got used to taking them off and sitting in my most favoritest fashion. I’m a leg-crosser, see? But not at the knees or the ankles or one leg up beneath me. Those unsymmetrical ways of crossing hurt my back and don’t fulfill me emotionally. I am a full-on, two-legged, pretzeled up in my chair leg-crosser. I do it at home and abroad. I do it in the car. An hour into a road trip, the shoes come off and the legs come up. Witnesses can verify this phenomenon. It’s instinctive, and, of course, I have a theory about it.
I would like to believe that this is an indicator that I descend directly from Buddha, and there are some signs that point in that direction. For instance, martial arts. Just started dabbling and I find I pick up quite like a ninja… okay, maybe not like a ninja, but definitely like a kata-inclined white girl. Then, the other day, I needed a snack, I had a craving, opened up some baby corns and proceeded to munch baby corns until the can was empty. It was strange even to me.
Sadly, though, I don’t actually think that I am a Buddhist ninja.
In truth, I’ve been trying to recall where exactly I have seen the most consistent, inherent cross-legged sitting. Then I remembered.
At the zoo.
Gorillas.
I don’t want to talk about it.
Posted in Theories | 1 Comment »
