Saturday, August 11, 2007

The Pointless Pizza Boys of Bettendorf, IA (and other weekend ramblings)

(For years, too many years to count, I have known of a movie. It had the plot of Pirates of Penzance, but with better set design. And in the end, the girl romantic lead stopped time and set the pirates up with her sisters so she could marry the boy romantic lead. I finally, through the wonder of the Interweb, found that movie. And it is TACKY. Never ever watch a movie you vaguely recall from childhood which might have in fact been part of a dream if not for the fact that it mirrored a piece of musical theater you were never exposed to. Because it will invariably SUCK and ruin your memories. Which is also why I will not buy The Hoboken Chicken Emergency, even though it is on my amazon.com wish list.)

I have a night to myself. Ryan is at my mother's. I have library books I haven't even cracked which are due back in two days. I have twelve hours of suspenseful prime-time crime dramas inside my DVR. I have last night's Monk and Psych to watch yet. I have a movie trapped inside of my computer which refuses to be burned to disc or even discs and which I will have to watch at my desk which is awkward because the chair rolls around on the newly carpetless floor (Long story but basically I got mad at the carpet for smelling like dog pee and took a box-knife to it at 9:00 Monday night and ripped it all out. Eighteen hours and one tetanus shot later I had ugly, but odorless, pee-stained hardwood floors.) making it difficult not to miss the action. I have a notebook full of character ideas and the wispy memories of a vaguely homo-erotic third person dream I had and want to write into a story. I have all of these things to do and what am I doing? I'm reading and copy/pasting (with props, mad props) Savage Love chunks (that just sounded horribly wrong) and blogging while NOT talking to Tom on the phone. I mean, he's on the phone, and I'm on the phone, but we're not talking. We're not fighting or even arguing, we simply have nothing really interesting to say anymore. I think after three years (almost) of a telephone-based marriage, that we may have run out of topics.

Why am I not hanging up to watch TV, read books, write books, or finally see this movie I've had for over a month already? Because it's late! Because it's late and if I

OMG!I.broke.my.keyboard!...I.took.the.button.off.to.clean.under.it.
and.there's.a.piece.of.wire.thing.in.it.and.I.don't.know.how.to.
replace.it.the.right.way!Oh.crap...Let.the.IRC.guys.be.able.to.help! Thank the gods for alphablu. I can always count on him for funny links and computer help. He was the guy who made me realize how horribly wrong it is to buy generic lubricant. I mean, if it's KY that's pushing your budget over then you have some serious issues, and probably some loss of muscle control to look forward, or backward, to.

Okay, now that that little trauma/drama is over with, and Tom finally had to hang up to watch reality television or whack off or whatever other dirty things he thinks I don't suspect, I am going to go too. I have to watch Blue Lagoon.

I always feel sorry for that poor blond guy from Blue Lagoon. He was the male lead in the movie that made Brooke Shields (I think. I don't really know since I was only born in 1976) and the movie that made Kristy MacNichol (again an assumption) and he's never really had his big break. (See? I was going somewhere with that parentheses pirate lead-in.) I mean, he can't act, but neither can Keanu, or Ashton, or Brad, and he had the same pecs, I mean credentials, they have. It makes me worry about the future of The Actor I Almost Could've Shagged.

TAIACS is my age, from very near here. If I'd only bumped into him during my high school years I could be selling my story to the tabloids. Or at least I'd have a cutey to point out to my friends instead of random long-haired pizza boys.

My Gods why am I still blogging? I have incestuous skinny dipping to watch!

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