Date Archives December 2009

I want the job of the guy who writes on the screen with the yellow pen.

Yesterday, Jim and Anne picked me up to go watch the Packers-Steelers game. Before the game, I suited myself in shame:


I should probably have a jersey or a team shirt or something other than this child-size Judas jersey for watching games in public. Brett Favre, you continue to complicate my life!

Anne is a big Steeler fan and we wondered if we could watch the game without it ending in a shirt-tearing sexy mud-wrestling match.


I’m proud to announce that we both remained adults throughout the course of the very close game, unlike one Bar Douchebag who clearly felt that the players could hear his shouts of “MOVE IT,FATASS!”

4205070707_8383e7e765 Overserious chinless douchebag is overserious. I asked the waitress if I could buy him either an instant vomit shot or something that would knock him out and shut him up, and she was disinclined to grant my request, but told me if I thought he was loud NOW, I should wait and see him when he’s got a pitcher in front of him. 😐

Other than prairie fire shots, I HAVE SO MUCH TO GIVE. Like this, the job I am completely and totally qualified for:

Mike Wallace, Josh Bell

After the game (sniff), we went to Laughs for their cookie exchange/white elephant/christmas party. Jim covered me, cookie-wise (everyone was supposed to bring two dozen, and I was otherwise indisposed on Saturday) and that’s good since even though the idea was people were supposed to go home with about the same number of cookies they came with, a couple of people practically Hoovered up the tables and I would be POd if I had invested baking time for zero returns. Not that I need two dozen cookies hanging around Casa Dildarian, I’m really just standing on principle and shouting “MOVE IT, FATASS!”

For my white elephant gift, I decided that it was time to pass on my magic presidential plate investment as it had appreciated just about as much as it was going to in my safe-deposit closet, and something as gold as this was meant to be treasured by more than one person. The little girl who opened it clearly realized it was a magic plate and spent the remainder of the evening with it clasped to her chest in a ferocious hug. In exchange for the magic plate, I got some cocoa, which means there’s one less item I have to drag home from the grocery store. Everyone wins!

Improbable Movie Trading Cards

Recently, Automatic Lifestyle Dispenser made a series of Improbable Movie Trading Cards for ‘The Room’. I had an ‘aha’ moment when I saw these, as I wanted a gag element in my gift to Tristan this year but wasn’t about to shell out seventy bucks for a promo poster for ‘The Room’ signed by Tommy Wiseau. My love of gag gifts stretches far, but perhaps not quite THAT far.

I decided to take The Cowboy‘s idea and run with it and make a LOT more and print them out on sticker paper. 100% of the credit for everything goes to him, I am just a copy-pasta girl.






















Gaylord Comes With A Bone Of His Own

The usual gang of suspects got together to watch Rifftrax Live: Christmas Shorts edition. To make things more festive, we dressed up…but more on that later. The JOURNEY is also important.

You see, I had to run an errand before meeting everyone at Shindig for the happiest hour of the day, so even though Emily kindly offered to come pick me up, I decided to take the bus so I could make a stop along the way. This was mistake number one.

After I ran my errand and waited and waited and waited at the bus stop, I was joined by a man in his late twenties/early thirties who seemed agitated when he asked if he could smoke in the bus shelter. I am not one to further provoke the agitated unless they REALLY deserve it, so I indicated I didn’t mind, and he sat down and started to smoke. Have you already guessed my second mistake? You are correct, oh clever friends, not bringing headphones to discourage conversation from strangers WOULD be my second mistake. He started to huff and kicked the inside of the shelter, and then told me that some kids had grabbed his laptop and run off the bus, and that he was so pissed, man, just so pissed off, man, he can’t believe how pissed off he is. He then proceeded to grab a 40 out of his pocket and chug it down, interspersed with ejaculations of “just so pissed, man, can’t believe it, what time does the bus come, so pissed off”. Out of his other pocket came a bag of pepperoni, and while he was stuffing these down his face, he again indicated that he was just so pissed off, man. Always Helpful Mellzah inquired if he’d filed a police report because then if the kids who stole it tried to pawn it, he could get it back, and no, Pepperoni Boy’s plan was to ride the bus line back and forth until he found these kids and beat the shit out of them. Yes, surely, this seems like a wise, rational plan.

When the bus FINALLY arrived, of course Pepperoni Boy chose to sit next to me, while continuing to stuff pepperoni in his face hole and surreptitiously swigging from his (another?) 40. I was enveloped in a greasy fog of spiced meats. Pepperoni Boy then asked if he could use my phone. Always Helpful Mellzah…hesitated. And went to hand it over. Pepperoni Boy realized his hands were greasy and instead asked if I could send a text message to someone, the message body consisting of “Never mind, he doesn’t have it anymore.” When I inquired as to who the message was from, it was answered with “They’ll know*.” To me, that read as vaguely ominious and I did not like it one bit. Furthermore, who are these people that they just expect calls and texts from random phone numbers and magically know who it’s from?

Thirty seconds later, with no response to the text, Pepperoni Boy rubbed his hands on his jeans and asked if he could use the phone to call the recipient of the ominous message. Always Helpful Mellzah handed him the phone. After that display of human kindness, obviously Pepperoni Boy felt I was hot for his bones, and tried hitting on me, explaining that he normally is too shy to talk to girls but he’s just so pissed off that he can today. Oh boy Oberto!

When he FINALLY left and the air started to clear, I breathed a sigh of relief and rode in silence the rest of the way to Shindig, where our holiday festivities began.

Emily wrapped a tree skirt around Jim and he came decked out as the King of Christmas:


Anne wore a festive holiday sweater with trivia questions on the back. The answers have been lost, so the answer key to any we did not know was changed to ‘your mom’. And to those we did know as well, let’s be honest, because I’m about twelve mentally and ‘your mom’ is always a funny answer to me.


Emily wore her fab-u-lous holiday sweater with glowing lights and a tinsel moustache.


I copped out and just wore my Santa hat, as full-regalia Santa On The Bus once was enough for me.

When we eventually made our way over to the theater, preshow we were treated to some Rifftrax trivia.


This outing was a little less heavy on hoopla than the last one; the guys came out, wished everyone a merry christmas, happy festivus, great feast of cthulhu (YES! Increased penetration for my alternative holiday), and then got to business, riffing on creepy old christmas specials, incredibly homoerotic advertisements for children’s toys, and a segment on…swimming? Also, for as much as they advertised the inclusion of Weird Al, he only came out for one short and spoke maybe five lines, total. How about ‘Fleeting appearance by Weird Al’? Or ‘Blink And You’ll Miss Him–here comes Weird Al!’? Or ‘Even though he’s totally known for his music and you would expect him to sing or be more involved as our special guest, he’s really only here for five minutes and is mostly a name to sell tickets and will not be performing so let’s all welcome Weird Al!’? It’s like those DVDs that boast amazing special features and then when you crack it open and watch, you realize the only special feature included is the trailer and the knowledge that you’re a sucker for marketing.

*Apparently they did NOT know as I received a text back an hour later that read (I am not making this up) “Who dis?”. DELETE.