It’s a verbal vomit post because it’s been that kind of a day.

You know when you have those kinds of days that don’t seem to have a thread of connectivity running through them to ground you? So, you’re kind of like the tasmanian devil dude spinning around everyone, and …. Look, let’s just be honest. I was manic today. And it’s Tuesday. So, according to The Bangles, I can’t even do manic correctly. But anyway. It was a wild kind of day. Rollercoastery. No, spellcheck. Rollercoastery, NOT rollercoasters. I’ll write my own posts, thank you. Why don’t you take the evening off? I believe I’ve got this covered as it’s a BLOG. I’m not writing a thesis.

I’m just going to be honest. I can’t write the final two posts for Mad Men just yet. But I have to write them at some point because I have to finish! So, they’ll appear at some point. No one will care. But I will have finished the task. I just can’t quite face the fact that the show is over. Yet. It’s Breaking Bad all over again.

So, welcome to a verbal vomit post. Let’s get to it, shall we?

  • First. Who has watched Montage of Heck? If you haven’t, you must do so now. You will be grateful you spent your time on that instead of reading this crap. It’s incredible. And it got me wondering how my genius hasn’t been discovered yet. <snort> OK. No. What it actually did make me wonder, for real this time, was how many people focus on less weightier matters and topics, because it can be too emotionally-draining to dig into their psyche? I know there are many times that I just don’t look too closely for deeper meaning in things when I’m feeling particularly fragile. Usually, I’m all for poking and prodding at the dark corners of my mind to see what’s in there, but I know my limits and when to look up at the sky and just think, “Yep, it’s cloudy today.” He (Cobain) spent so much time in his head, and I can’t fathom the depth of his loneliness; although you definitely get a sense of it in the movie. It’s really well done.
  • Next. Gimelstob. Was it you? I’m not sure. If not, I apologize. One of you French Open commentators was complaining about Nadal being called for his CONTINUED time delays on his serve on a break point. Look. I get your point. It’s valid. However, I have an opposing point which is also valid. When he’s been called in the past on points that weren’t important, it hasn’t stopped him from taking extra time before every serve. Do you know how many times he went over the allotted time on his serve? Do you? Well of course you do because you told me during your diatribe. EVERY SINGLE TIME. That’s fairly significant, no? And my opinion is that if you call him on it when it HURTS him more (perhaps like on a break point?), it might make more of an impact. You immediately started blabbering about how this must NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN. THIS CAN NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN. Dude, chill. Have a beer. And he was eventually broken by Sock (Yes, non-tennis fans. The man’s last name is Sock. It’s fairly ridiculous, but what are you going to do. Also, he’s American. A male American tennis player. Who is damn good. I’ll take his ridiculous name and chant it, if it will make him successful.) See, that probably will stick in Nadal’s noggin. Hmmmm, all this time I’m taking before my serves is being noticed and becoming less and less tolerated. Maybe I should do something about it. But mine is also just an opinion. Just like yours. Guess what? The chair umpire? His is not an opinion. His is the ruling. Move on, man. I’m just grumbling about you on my little blog. You made an ass out of yourself on broadcast telly.
  • Veep. This show, people. You can’t even laugh out loud. You have to giggle to yourself as quietly as possible or else you’ll miss the next bon mot which is coming 2 seconds after the last.
  • Entourage. Yeah, woohoo and all that. I’m not even talking about the movie. Or the show. I just suspect that I’m supposed to be a part of certain celebrity entourages. It has just not happened due to circumstances. But if these celebs knew me they would almost certainly make me a part of their circle. I say almost because you have to account for a public mask that doesn’t match the private persona. If that’s the case, then all bets are off.
    • Jason Bateman. He and I would be thick as thieves. We’d probably be a threesome (not in that way, sicko) with Will Arnett with nearly constant banter. It would be endlessly entertaining to certain people, but confusing for others because we’d have a shorthand where we’d never quite finish a conversation or sentence because we’d be all crazy simpatico.
    • Amy Poehler. This would be the hardest to get in. I’d have to audition. And again. But I know who she hangs with, and my edge would win her over in the end. I trend dark humor, Amy. Call me. Plus, how could she say no to anyone. She’s so nice.
    • Lauren Graham. If she is anything at all like her former character, Lorelai Gilmore, then she and I would either get along like the closest sisters ever, or we’d fight constantly, because we are the same person.
    • Melissa McCarthy. I just need to be around her. Watch her do her thing. If you’ve ever seen This is 40 and haven’t watched until the credits finish, then you missed probably the best part of the movie. Melissa just goes to town. And I need that in my life. But I think I could roll with her. One of my favorite people ever moved out of town years and years ago, and I’ve never seen her since. I miss her terribly. She was my non-celeb Melissa McCarthy. We worked together and were a traveling comedy show which can be hard to manage in a law firm. But we made it work. So I think I could make things work with Melissa. I think.
    • Dave Matthews. I think this dude is probably in my family tree, and I just haven’t discovered it yet. I believe discovering begins with looking, but that could be a nasty lie. But I digress. You know the part in “Dancing Nancies” where he’s all — could I have been your little brother — and I’m like I’m certain you ARE, dude! Except not my little brother since you’re older. But you listen to his little bits on stage and he’s really strange and talking just “mad-crazy” talk, and I’m thinking, “Yeah, that sounds weird-trippy, and he’s doing that rambling thing. Sounds like me.” I’ve even turned to Matthew before and said something along those lines. Matthew kind of gave me the patient look that says, “Yes, it’s not one of your better qualities, but I’m rolling with it.” Anyway, as I was saying. Similar sense of humor. And did I mention that my confirmed brother has musical talents? Hi, Greg! Well, just put all that together. I don’t think I need to paint the rest of the picture for you, right? So, I’m looking forward to my holiday gift this year. Yeah, I didn’t know if it was a Christmas gift I should be expecting, or one of the other holidays, or a generic holiday gift. So I just figured I’d slip holiday in there to cover the whole shebang. Make sure I get my gift. Dude’s got mad cashflow. Hell, I’m bringing some of it TO YOU this summer, possible bro. The least you can do is reimburse.

Good news. Tasmanian devil left the house, yo. I’m tired. Time for Tito’s. Yeah. This post wasn’t even brought to you by alcohol.

Happy birthday, Dave Matthews!

I love to give the haters a chance to come out and do what they do. People need activities. If you’re a hater, you need to hate. Now, I will say this, if you are a hater of a person, that’s kind of crappy. Unless the person is a total turd. In which case, hate on, hater. Yet, I don’t think that applies here. But something about the band does seem to be a bit polarizing. I have a theory. I believe it could be a fan issue, and I’ll not deny that there are some tools and asshats attending the shows to whom I like to give a wide berth. For whatever reason, this band has lovers and haters. Like I said, polarizing. I happen to be on the lover side. Go to a concert. If you’re still a hater, then I don’t have a second clause for you.

So I’ll take this opportunity to wish him a happy birthday into the void. I believe I’ve spoken about this before. You know, that celebs, rock stars, sports stars, etc. don’t give a tiny (or even a large) rat’s ass what the rest of us think. You know that’s true. And if we’re all being honest, would we? Well, I would, but that’s because I’m a very odd person. I’m on a tangent which is how I roll, but I took a personality test the other day and found out I’m an INFP. I and P were pretty damn definitive. DON’T MAKE PLANS WITH ME, APPARENTLY. Because I’ll be in the wind, I guess. I think the N and F were less definitive because I got a little cheaty (NOT CHESTY, AUTOCORRECT) on those because I was having a little more trouble deciding on those answers. But as I looked back through the test, I think I’m pretty much a solid INFP. Which means I’m weird. 4% of the population tests as INFP. Hmmmmm. I’m principled and testy if you don’t follow the rules. BUT I’M LOYAL! To a few people that I trust. Also, I like to write. Uh huh, gee thanks there, testing peeps. I already figured that one out on my own. Got any other gems for me? Geez, that was a pretty lengthy tangent.

Hey, happy birthday, Dave Matthews. And to celebrate, I plan to make this all about me and do a top 15 in no particular order (with no justification) of my favorite Dave Matthews/Dave Matthews Band songs.

  • Some Devil
  • Eh Hee
  • Squirm
  • If Only
  • When the World Ends
  • The Stone
  • Rhyme & Reason
  • Big Eyed Fish
  • Granny
  • Dancing Nancies
  • Belly Belly Nice
  • Spoon
  • Two Step
  • Louisiana Bayou
  • Jimi Thing

Joan Rivers: twerking. This is what Miley Cyrus has wrought. Let us all give thanks. I’m serious.

OK, thankfully the Miley-Cyrus-at-the-VMAs furor has died down. The open letters to Miley, and her father, and all of Hollywood, and Congress, and ANYONE WHO WILL LISTEN OHMYGODWON’TSOMEONEPLEASETHINKOFTHECHILDREN!!!! have finally slowed or even stopped. I don’t really get the “earnest open letter to famous person” madness that seems to happen all over social media when some celeb has been targeted for a public intervention. Hey guys. No celeb is reading your open letters. Trust me. They are way too busy feeling awesome and, if you are going to negate that business, they are not trying to hear that. If you are writing open letters full of ass-kissing and unicorn love, they aren’t reading that either. If I thought this was a successful course of action, I’d be banging out an urgent electronic missive to Federer. It would go something like this:
Dear You’ve-Got-My-Vote-for-Best-Tennis-Player-Ever AKA Capt. Hottie with the sexy voice,
Please go back in time and retire from tennis after winning last year’s Wimbledon title. You will not have to listen to a year of “Dude sucks and I don’t know why in the world we discussed the possibility of his being the best tennis player ever.” You will not miss that conversation, believe me. Also, thanks for giving me years of watching you play tennis with a mastery that still amazes me.
Best Wishes,
A Steadfast Fan
I might send a note to Dave Matthews to let him know that I think he is an odd bird in the good sense, and I can dig that as I’m an odd bird myself (though maybe not in the good sense). Nah. That’s two letters, and I’m pretty lazy. So, just the one to Roger. And of course I’m not corresponding with Roger Federer or Dave Matthews or any other sports figure, or rock star, or celebrity or famous person because I was born with a working brain cell or two and know that those people haven’t the slightest interest in hearing from me. Hell, I’m not famous in any way at all, though I do play a famous person in many of my nocturnal dramas, and I don’t want to receive correspondence from random peeps. I bet you don’t either.

Anyway. Back to Miley. I saw Miley Cyrus perform at the VMAs, and my reaction went like this. Aw, that’s too bad that she’s creating an embarrassing memory right now in front of so many people. My other thought was, “WHAT IN THE WORLD IS UP WITH HER TONGUE? IS IT SUPERSIZED?” Yes, that is in all caps because I just couldn’t get past the tongue. It showed up in a dream later that night. I’m not even kidding. It was just a giant tongue sitting in a chair that I worked into one of my dreams. Very odd, but it really added some extra atmosphere to that particular dream. Had it contributed dialog, it would have turned that dream into a nightmare, but it was mercifully silent. I think it’s the new “elephant in the room” for me. But I digress again! The twerking! I’m just so glad that Miley made twerking a word familiar to us all because when Joan Rivers mentioned at the beginning of the Fashion Police ep. that they were going to be twerking, I knew I was about to witness something awesome!!!! People, behold:

No, it is NOT a stand-in! Yeah, it is TOTALLY a stand-in. But tell me that just the idea alone of Joan Rivers twerking isn’t laugh out loud funny. Go on, tell me.