Aloha, fools!

Well, I'm in the land of pukka shells and dog the bounty hunter and I couldn't be happier. Surf lessons are scheduled and a mai tai has been ordered. Check back for surf photos!

In Honor of My Vacation:

Some smooth smooth music. "Sailing" by Christopher Cross. I can almost feel the sand between my toes, the Mai Tai in hand and the 3rd degree burns on my body.

Would You Rather of the Afternoon

Would you rather:

Have "From a Distance" as performed by Bette Midler, stuck in your head for a month straight?

OR

Get the shit kicked out of you by Kimbo Slice in a no holds barred cage match?


I choose Kimbo. Hands down.

Link of the day:

This post from Tyler Durden seriously makes me cry from laughter every single time I look at it. My friend even blew up the post and I have it decorating my cubicle right now. Posted next to the photos of Despareaux and the hedgehog photos I found.

Enjoy:

Violet Affleck Might Be A Goblin

FYI:

2009 is the year of Cline!

Prepare yourself people. I've got t-minus 3 years until 2012 and us all getting obliterated and I'm declaring this the year of the Cline. My time to shine. So buckle up, this shit it going off!

SPREAD THE WORD.

2009 YEAR OF THE CLINE (morgan not patsy)

Its The Final Countdown

(This is just a little photo I took of myself posing with a surf-board. I am actually much better looking in person)

As of 7pm this evening I am officially embarking on my first "real" vacation in over 6 years. Sure I get to high tail it out of dodge now and again to visit friends - and believe me that's been fun. But this vacation is about numero uno.

No traveling to the family compound for an extended family luncheon that inevitably ends with my family thinking I am gay. Nope. No flying up to the bay area and in the process misjudging the time it takes for my klonopin to leave my system and ending up black out drunk by 4pm off one cocktail. I don't think so! I'm taking a break from all my worries. Hawaii is going to be my "Cheers" bar. Shelly Long era of course. And without Frazier's shrew of a wife.This is going to be a total rest and relaxation weekend. I'm going to kick back relax and live it up!

Well....mostly rest and relaxation. There are a few things I have to take care of while on the island. I mean I am planning on stalking an attractive pro-bowl playing football star (any will do) and having him fall in love with me. Also involved in this quest will be me being the next great surfing star. And that takes time and effort. I mean becoming a surfing legend takes effort - the whole stalking and love making is a piece of cake. But as far as the surfing goes - I need a day or so dedicated to actually learning to surf considering I've never even touched a board. You can't become a world class surfing machine overnight! I think it takes at least 2 days. And I'll have to nap some other time because I am going to be following the Brady Bunch's travels to the island - step for step.After I get my guts beaten up by the totes hot football star and master the art of surfing pipe (is that a euphemism? because it is now). After I take care of those little things though? That's going to be crazy relaxing.

So listen up mother fuckers, 2009 is the year of the Cline - and since this is my year to shine I need a weekend of indulgences and surf championships to rev me up and get me ready for this year. MY YEAR.

I may or may not be blogging this weekend. Depends if I can pry myself away from the totes hot quarterback who is willing to slum it with a lowly maid like me. Probably not. With translucent skin and abnormally long arms I am a TOTAL sex machine. Dudes see me and can't control themselves. Its a curse really.

It's going to be surfing, boning, stalking and sipping pina coladas and getting caught in the rain!

FUCK YOU I'M GOING ON VACATION!

Awesomest Video of my Lifetime!!!

big ups to JASON for finding this fucking GEM!

Swoon Alert: Jeff Lynne Edition

Meow, Mr. Lynne. Meow!!!

Is it the white mans afro, the silken blouses or the amazing Xanadu soundtrack? Not sure - but whatever spell that frizzy haired moppet has bewitched me with it is really, really powerful.

Ooh wee the chills I get when he harmonizes with himself on such classics as Mr. Blue Sky, Sweet Talking Woman, All Over The World and my personal favorite Turn to Stone. And I'm not exaggerating - this music gets me going. In fact I listened to an ELO mix cd for the entire second day of my drive from Texas to LA. Overkill? Sure. Awesome? Hells fucking yes.

Jeff Lynne at the peak of ELO's awesome explosion resembled a young Lindsay Buckingham who is the cats meow in my book. I wouldn't mind spending some quality time with those two dapper dans. I'd help them pick their fro's if you know what I mean and I think you do. Wink. Wink.

Jeff went on to be even more awesome when he and some other cool cats formed The Traveling Willburys. Jeff makes my heart flutter and knees go weak - therefore he is the SWOON ALERT OF THE DAY!

Awesome video of the morning!

Thanks to JASON for this find!!!

DJ Scat Cat 4- Ever

Don't get me wrong, I love this song/video - but isn't it a little scandelous to be having a sexy relationship with a cartoon cat? I watched "Cool World" and I know how deviant and over-sexed cartoon characters can be. Be careful, Paula. Inter-species loving is a dangerous road to travel. You'd be better off dating that fox who coaches a kids hockey team!

Happy Wednesday!

Best Quote Ever

Danger Zone tipster Jamie sent this gem in:

"Hey I just saw your homie John Sally on TMZ. They asked him why he goes to strip clubs when he has so much money and could get any girl and he said "hey, it's an establishment...that's like asking me why I go shopping at the mall".

Swoon!!! I love John.

Ah Yeah!

HEY GIRL HEY - TONIGHT!

Call or email me with your best CELEBRITY ENCOUNTERS!!! We are broadcasting live tonight from 9-10 pm PST!

www.latalkradio.com
323-203-0815
heygirlheyradio@gmail.com

In honor of tonight's show I have decided to post a photo of one of my many random celebrity encounters while living in LA.

My friends and I had been having brunch at Saddle Ranch (don't judge - they have bottomless mimosas for $10) and we were surrounded by randoms. Twista and his entourage were beside us. A table of little people were behind us. And in front of us - lo and behold - Ron Jeremy. Who doesn't get excited when eating by an obese, troll of a porn star?!For some reason (mimosas) we decided to take a photo with him. I still have to take showers in bleach to rid myself of the skeevie feeling he gave us.

We can't figure out why none of the photos turned out clear, either. We took some from different angles and the sun kept distorting them. I think it was God trying to save us from the hell of seeing that beast in Kodachrome!

I'm Kenny Chesney Serious When I Say I Hope You Are Having A Great Tuesday

Crunk Juice + Ying Yang Twins = Getting in Fights with Cabbies

For those of you who have met me, you understand that I am not the type of lady that you look at and think, "bet she would really like to go to a Maxim party". Well, you would be right - unless said party happen to have Lil Jon and the Ying Yang Twins as the musical act. In that case I am totally there.

So, I got all dolled up -which of course means I looked like the Keebler elf with heels on - and my friend Theresa and I ventured out into the wild LA night in search of Maxim and mayhem.

Don't worry. We totally found it.

We arrived at the function and to say we stuck out like a sore thumb would be putting it mildly. It was like someone stopped the record when we walked in and all the heads whipped around to see what was up. We looked like two girls who should have been in a John Mayer video and accidentally hit up the wrong studio and ended up on a gangsta rap video set. I'm talking hot pants. Bling. People drinking out of chalices. Booties. I'm talking booties everywhere you turned. You were surrounded by some b-oo-t-y-oh-my. And I got an ass that just won't stop - but it is a big Irish ass - no match for those ladies. So we did what any girls in an uncomfortable situation would do - we hit the bar.

Apparently Lil Jon is the spokesman for a red-bull like beverage called "crunk Juice". So every cocktail you wanted (that was free of charge at least - and you know I was all about the free drinks) was a crunk-juice cocktail. The crunk-juice itself wasn't as much of an issue as the vodka they were using was. Its called "UV Vodka". Now I don't know about you, but I don't want anything to do with something containing UV-anything. UV rays - no good. The movie Ultra Violet - no good. See, nothing good comes of being associated with UV. And this vodka proved my point. No good can come of that and mix in crunk juice and you have a match made in hell.

After Theresa and I had a couple of UV and Crunks, things started getting interesting. First off the people watching got better. Ice Tea and his lovely, demure wife Coco hung out. As did the other dude from Keenan and Kel - you know the one who sort of looked like Sisquo? Yeah, well he hung out and chatted T up something fierce. Wanna know what else was fierce? His breath. It was kicking like a ninja it was so bad. Oooh-wee. No amount of crunk could take that away either. It was about the time Theresa was cornered by some dudes who ran a rap company that I spotted my victim. The one and only.....wait for it....wait for it....Steve Urkel. I swear on the soul of Carl Winslow that it was him and I did indeed talk to him. Here was the gross thing though - his speaking voice and demeanor were so much like Stefan's that it almost made me puke. I wanted him to spill his drink and then ask "Did I do that?". He didn't and by that point Theresa and I had consumed enough crunk and UV to fall a lesser man. And it was about that point that I did indeed become crunk.

What is the definition of crunk? I have no idea. But in my personal case, the symptoms of getting crunk included me getting SUPER HYPER and SUPER FIESTY. Oh and knee-walking drunk. All of this culminated around the time the Ying Yang Twins took the stage. Apparently Lil Jon was running late - forgot his pimp cup or something - so the Twins had to cover for him. So they sang the same song about 4 times. And I was so crunk that I didn't care. Each time the song came on I flipped my shit and danced like there was no tomorrow. Theresa, who was also crunk by this point, questioned why they kept playing the song again. But like me, the siren song of Ying Yang and their whispering drew us in and we got crunk some more.

We stopped getting crunk a little after Lil Jon took the stage. I was at the point where I was so feisty I figured that the next smart ass comment I made would probably rekindle the West Coast/ East Coast beef and I didn't want that to be on my conscious. So we did what any crunk girls would do - we went in search for a hot dog stand that was open. Our cab driver however was definitely not crunk and did not in anwyway appreciate the crunk. I politely screamed for him to take us to Carnies which I figured to be the closest hot dog vendor. He claimed it was closed. We screamed back he was wrong and that we were not paying him for his opinions. It was about then that we got asked to exit the cab. He was nice enough to drop us at Carnies. And like he had told us, it was indeed closed. We had to find another cab more sympathetic to the crunk. And then we went home and made ramen, which is so not as krunk as a hot dog would have been.

That will be my first and last Maxim party.

Crunk Juice is a helluva drug.

Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaah!

It's a VIXEN type of afternoon, bitches!

God, I would have KILLED to have hair like any member of Vixen - save for the drummers as it looked to suffer some damage from over-processing. Needless to say, never has a band name been more fitting than Vixen's. MEOW!

A Very Duggar Wedding: Or How My Mind Got Blown

It's taken me a full two days to recover from my Sunday evening viewing of "A Very Duggar Wedding". Yes, Josh and Anna's vows totally blew my mind.

Look, I am down with different faiths. For sure. And although their clothing and hairstyles disturb me, they aren't much different from my Pentecostal kinfolk back home. My great grandma Toni totally rocked the Pentecostal hair and skirts. She also liked to do glory dancing and revivals. I respect their right to believe whatever they want - but good golly did some of the stuff weird me out.

It's the overall "Duggar effect" that I am still reeling from. Lets start with the basics before getting into the nitty gritty of the wedding.


Duggar Run Down:
They have 18 kids.
All of said children have names that start with "J" (Jinger is my personal favorite as it sounds like the name of a stripper or a keebler elf)
All of the girls wear skirts and have permed hair.


Now lets talk about the wedding. So Josh the oldest Duggar kid and proposes to Anna. That episode is a post in and of itself. Anna wears denim skirts and then coordinates her top to whatever Josh is wearing.She also suffers from the unfortunate permed hair and slicking over of the bangs that plague the Duggar girls.

I don't know what to touch on first....there is just so much. I'm going to break down the episode topic by topic.

CLOTHING:
As I mentioned before, Anna has taken to wearing color & pattern coordinated shirts with Josh. This isn't a good idea. Trust me Anna. Trust me. Not. A. Good. Look. What a man must think when his lady friend starts rocking the same ensembles. Stalker alert. Josh - this lady is going to be stuck to you like GLUE. And when they said the woman should be submissive to the man - there was no mention of the lady being forced to wear the same Sears shirt. And seriously, if you are allowed to wear some henleys every once and a while, step it up girlfriend. I know you have some spare cash since you make your own clothes. Take a trip to Old Navy and get a little bit hipper. You can use all the help you can get in this department.

Anna's Family's clothing in general is about 1,000 times worse than the Duggars. Anna and her mom wear matching shirts anytime Josh isn't around. Her mom, bless her heart, has gotten her hands on the ugliest, most unflattering pattern of all time and has chosen to use that for all of her clothing needs. Man oh man. Ill fitting sack dresses? Have mercy. And the fabric? The fabric is normally in off-color shades like maroon and mauve. If you can't find the color on a rainbow kids, I wouldn't trust it. Wearing cheap fabric in bad colors only accentuates the problem. I think Barbara Mandrells "Visa" clothing line looks more comfortable and more breathable than those duds.

How the men in those families ever want to procreate when they are dealing with those outfits and that hair. I'm just saying.

ANNA'S BIG ASS FAMILY LIVES IN A TRAILER:

I do not judge the whole living on a trailer thing as much as I wonder how they fit their herd of kids in ther? Was it a pod of mini- trailers - like a compound? Or was it "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" style? Either way the wood paneled interior coupled with the closing almost gave me an aneurysm. Blech.

Also, living in a trailer in a location that is prone to tornadoes is just asking for it.

CLOSE UP SHOT OF JINGER EATING A PICKLE:

It was a weird shot of the sisters and Josh heading to Florida to help sew some hideous dresses and for some reason the TLC folks decided to include a shot where one of the sisters is nibbling on a giant gherkin.

THE WEDDING RECEPTION/DECORATIONS:

Fake flowers. Fake flowers. Fake flowers.

WOOF.

As far as food went - they showed some of the church ladies with their hands in giant vats of chicken salad. Churning it by hand. BLECH. I also saw lots of casseroles. Because you have to make sure your consitution is strong in order to pop out a gaggle of kids.

No booze. No dancing..... Those are the two reasons people (ie. me) go to weddings. Free booze and a night of cutting a rug with touchy feely geriatrics. It was just a lot of people eating chicken salad and watching a million kids run around. Oh and the little boy put a garter on his head like a headband...which creeps me out. For a culture that values modesty there is something weird about that. I also am opposed to garters in general so maybe I am biased.

THE CEREMONY:

1) Josh SANG to his bride. He serenaded her with a song about loyalty. I think its a sweet idea - if you are into that sort of thing. But he sounded like the people who sang at revivals back when I attended a evangelical Baptist church. Just saying - its a weird song voice and it was weird to sing it to her then. I used to think singing "It's Your Love" was bad - Josh, you proved me wrong. I would love to hear a redneck butcher Tim McGraw and Faith Hill any day over Josh's creepy song about loyalty. I sort of zoned out but I could have sworn there was a line in there about always coordinating their JC Penny shirts.

2) The father of the bride commented before the wedding that "His authority over her was now being transferred to Josh. And that it was a great system". HEY-O! I think I heard of that before in a little film called "Sleeping with the enemy". During the ceremony the Pastor went on to echo that sentiment. Um, speaking as a religious person - if they said that at my wedding I think I would have to throw up a "talk to the hand" or "bitch please" gesture just like Shenehney used to do on Martin. She was full of sass!

3) Josh and Anna had NEVER kissed anyone let alone each other before their wedding. Let me just type that again in case you didn't get it the first time: Never kissed anyone before the wedding. Please see next topic for analysis.

JOSH AND ANNA NEVER KISSED BEFORE THE WEDDING:
While I applaud them for sticking to their convictions, the whole idea of having your first kiss take place in front of your 18 siblings, extended fundamentalist family and a camera crew is a little too much for me to handle. Can you imagine? And it isn't like those people have seen movies to know what its all about! Heck, they didn't even know what a "Bridezilla" was.

The one thing they did do however was hold hands. And by golly did they ever. As another friend who was traumatized by the Duggars put it: " they were having hand sex". Those fingers were writhing and intertwined 24/7. It could have been sort of sweet but it came across as wicked sexual.

Icing on the awkward cake? The parents give them the birds and the bees talk about an hour before the wedding. WHEN HE IS 20 YEARS OLD AND ABOUT TO GET MARRIED. Sure he probably had a basic idea considering he has 17 siblings - but dear God - way to wait until the last minute Jim Bob. They provide him with a book. A book right before the wedding. I can't imagine he would have time to peruse that before the wedding night. Yeowza.

Oh and Jinger pointed out that after their night together "He would have love marks all over him. but I don't think he cares". "Love marks"......my mind is going to melt.

I urge you to watch this show if you didn't catch it live. Its like viewing a tribe in New Guinea. You will be in awe over their customs. Those tribe members would have better clothing than the Duggars though, guaranteed.

Hey, Girl. Hey - TONIGHTS TOPIC!

Tonight the Hobbit is live on www.latalkradio.com from 9-10pm PST.

Topic: CELEB ENCOUNTERS!
Call in #: 323-203-0815

If the lines are busy but you have something you want us to touch on - send me an email at heygirlheyradio@gmail.com and I will make sure to read your email on the air.

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Be there or be square!

ALSO:

Don't forget to join the "Hey, Girl. Hey" facebook group and enter the PICTURE CONTEST in hopes of winning a kick ass prize!!!!!

Awesome video of the morning!

Thank you to STINA for this amazing find:

Most Disturning Video find of 2009

Thank you to Allison for pointing out a creepy-ass kids show out of Britain.....WOW.

I give you.....MINI POPS

Song of the Day: The Fat Boys feat. The Beach Boys

"Wipe Out" by the Fat Boys

Hey-O: T- Minus 4 Days!

Watching Blue Crush: Or How I am preparing for my vacation!

Gidget did it. The Brady's did it. The cast of Saved by the Bell did it. Now its my turn. Yes, yes yes.....the Hobbit is going Hawaiian!!!

Now I've never been much for tropical locales considering my skin is a touch on the translucent side. I get sunburned driving in my car with the windows rolled up so you can imagine what happens when you stick me in the direct path of sunlight. It isn't pretty. But, I decided to throw caution and better judgment into the wind and go for broke. I need some rest and relaxation something terrible and where better to relieve stress than in Hawaii?

Now, aside from frying myself in the sun, I have something special in store. Its time for me to embrace my destiny - my destiny that I realized after viewing Blue Crush. And that destiny is to become a world class surfer, snag a pro-bowl playing quarterback with dapper looks and a penchant for slumming it and then to leave my shady upbringing behind. This weekend is the weekend to fulfill that dream.

Sure I am facing an uphill battle in my quest. One, there isn't a pro-bowl being played this coming weekend so the crop of star quarterbacks will be greatly limited. Secondly, I don't know how to surf. I've never even tried. I had a panic attack when snorkeling in Bermuda. I was fine for the first couple of minutes and then BAM! Freak out. Luckily it was nothing that a delicious rum swizzle couldn't cure. But you get my drift. So I do understand the issues I am up against. I really do. But if Gidget can win Moondoggie back after visiting and Greg can overcome the curse of the evil Tiki and the gang from Bayside can go all the way to the islands and have wild antics follow - then I can turn my life into Blue Crush.

I don't even have a creepy-Michelle Rodriquez-esque friend to be all jealous and try to salt my game. And I certainly won't have to be towed into some big wave surfing against my will. I've got this in the bag.

Yesterday I re-watched Blue Crush. Tonight its Gidget and Gidget goes Hawaiian. I'm in it to win it. And thats the way you have to be if you want to win Pipe Masters and bone a totally hot dude.

Apollo + Glass of Wine = Frakin Good Night!

Longest. Day. Ever

Seriously, this day has been PAINFUL! It's raining outside and all I want to go is go home, curl up in bed with a bottle of scotch and watch me some Battlestar Galactica. Is that too much to ask? Apparently it is. So I am stuck here at the office. Nary a latte in sight. And I am bored. So bored that looking up pictures of Stuart Little and Greg Evian ain't doing it for me.

I was trying to look up info on surfing but that made me more tired looking at pictures of people exerting themselves. Whats wrong with me? Don't answer that.

You know what I need?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!BONE THUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Inside the Taco: New Employees

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Awesomeness of the Morning

Thanks to JODI for finding this gem!

Happy Thursday!!

Thank you to THERESA for this gem!

Strawberry Wine: Or Kissing Someone With Head Trauma

So, I used to date this guy who had his head run over. True story.

Well, he had his head run over before I started dating him, but it was run over all the same. Age old story of a dude drunk at a pasture party trying to out-run a Toyota Tacoma, only to trip, fall and have his head run over by the truck.

Thankfully there was a lot of mud in that field due to rain and the truck had mud grips on the tires so the damage was minimal. Although I still think his refusal to go to the hospital until he finished the 5th of vodka he was drinking might have been a bad idea. Then again, who am I to judge? Shit, this is coming from the girl who thought it appropriate to go to her first day of fencing class three sheets to the wind as she was under the impression that it would just be going over the syllabus and not playing with swords. My mistake. Anyway, he was fine and the only way you could really tell that he had anything wrong with him was when he stuck his cigarette behind his left ear - the cigarette would fall out and we would all share a hearty laugh about the time his head was run over.

So, I met this gem a while after the head-being run over thing - although the exact place escapes me. I believe it was at my friends garage where they, fittingly enough, had a garage band and would play really earnest yet oh so terrible covers of The Toadies, Live and Alice and Chains. Me and two other chicks were their groupies and would sit there and sway along and then remark after the song how much the lead singer sounded like Lane Staley. Which looking back might not have been the best compliment.I spent so many weekends hanging out in that garage, rocking my doc martens and drinking cheap beer. Sigh, the good old days!

Anyway, I had recently gotten out of an ill advised romance with the bass player in the group who happened to have spent the year before with his jaw wired shut (what can I say, I am a sucker for injuries). Of course when I say "romance", I mean two dates, one of which was to a kegger on someone's land and one was to Dallas to go to The Guitar Center. We also shared what could be considered the worlds most awkward kiss. French kissing with a severe sinus infection. Enough Said. Anywho,then this turtle dove swooped down and took my breath away.

What wasn't to fall in love with? Massive head trauma? Check. Student at the local Jt. College? Check. Penchant for wearing overalls? Check. And most importantly, a 1996 MAGENTA FORD RANGER. CHECK CHECK CHECK! I couldn't escape that truck. No matter how much my common sense prevailed. There was something about that truck and the sweet tape deck in it that drove me wild. We shared our first kiss in that truck while Deena Carter's Strawberry Wine played and I swore I could relate. Even though I think she was alluding to her loosing her virginity and at that point the closest thing I had ever gotten to that was a tingly sensation while watching the "Wicked Game" Video by Chris Issak. Oh Deena Carter - that song is forever ingrained in my memory as head trauma. I can even remember the checked shirt I was wearing. And no, I'm not a lesbian. I just dressed like one. Blame it on my mom. She likes to rock, what my cousin calls, "Prison Chic". You know, denim on denim. Anyway, its funny to think about how romantic that song was...yeah. Its a pretty melancholy song actually and there isn't anything romantic about longing for a time pre-bonin' in your life. And moreover, I've never once known anyone who has tasted this mystery elixir of "Strawberry Wine". Whatever Deena.

Anyway, for a month or so we hung out. I thought I was pretty cool. I got to go to older kids parties without even a second look. Thats what happens when you are 16 and dating Jr. College boys. Of course I kept it a secret from Mom that he was in Jr. College and almost 21. I have a feeling the ole' prison bitch wouldn't have been super happy about our relationship.

We would attempt to hang out when we could. Which again was a bit pathetic considering I was in high school and he wasn't. It was relegated to weekends or on weeknights when I was able to think of an excuse like "I'm going to be studying at Fritz's house" that my mom would believe. Too close of a friend and she was liable to call if she needed me. Someone like that, on the fringes of my friends, was a much safer option. Even then I had to be home at a decent hour so it was pretty freaking lame. And when he wasn't wooing me he was driving the JR college cheerleading squad out to the closest country bar called "Little Bits" in the next city. I just thought he was one of those nice guys who had lots of friends and didn't mind not getting anything more than a timid kiss from the Junior in High School girl who would have to turn down the Tom Jones in order to talk to him on the phone.

All too soon however, my forbidden love life was cut short. Cut short by a bitch whose legs were like peanut butter - easily spread. One night - it was a Tuesday or so - Head Trauma was having a party at his house and amazingly enough I couldn't figure out anyway to get to it considering it was a school night and to be honest I really had no desire to go. I was too much of a sucker for the law of the land to risk my Mom's wrath. So I stayed home, watched "The Commitments" on VHS for the millionth time and beeped him to see how the party was going (and yes he had a beeper).

What came next really highlights my naivety. Peanut Butter legs answered the beep and called me back. She told me how kind and attentive he was being to her at the party and said they were having a dandy time and then thanked me for calling. Of course I believed her and figured that his damned head injury had somehow made him the most courteous man in NE Texas. Watch a catch! Pudgy in overalls AND considerate? Swoon!Wasn't I the lucky one?!

I of course was wrong. While eating at McKee's which is one of the few places open 24 hours AND where you could stumble in under age and drunk without consequence, I found out the truth. A mutual friend stumbled over. Also drunk. And told me people had walked in on them boning on his pool table. And the icing in the cake was that this apparently not the first time. Looks like I wasn't the only person whom he played Strawberry Wine for.....fucking Deena Carter man.

I ran into him at a new years party a few years later. He was nice and apologized for porking the slut. And to be honest, I don't blame him. The most he was getting from me was a high five and grief from his friends. I also felt better when I saw him put a cigarette behind his ear and it fell out due to the extra space from having his head get run over. Does that make me evil?

If I had a bottle of strawberry wine I would pour out a little in honor of the dude that trampled my heart and ruined deena carter forever.

Link of the day:

A studly beast of a man singing a cover of "Queen of Memphis"

Cindy Pink The Garage Sale Lady: Or How Only Children Entertain Themselves

It's amazing that someone so weird as a small child could turn into the well adjusted youth you see in the photo above. I mean, look at her!!Not. Weird. At. All.


But I was weird when I was little. Crazy weird. I blame being an only child but others might blame a nasty case of fetal alcohol syndrome. Whatever the culprit was, it doesn't change the fact that I used to assume alter-egos at the drop of a hat. Yes, at any given moment I would assume my other character and it was anyone's guess as to when I would revert back to the lil' hobbit. One of the first and most memorable characters I created was Cindy Pink the Garage Sale Lady.Which by the way must be said in its complete form - there is no shortened form of el nombre.

So CPTGSL was, as you might have guessed, obsessed with garage sales. I'm not sure where this came from as I can only recall my great grandmother Toni hosting one garage sale that I ever attended. Whatever it was that drew me into the wonderful world of garage sales, did a damn good job of really bewitching me. I loved nothing more than to fold up clothes and put knickknacks out on the table. I would haggle with the imaginary white trash families that came to peruse my wares. I would snap at the imaginary obese kids with cheeto dust on their fingers to keep their grubby mitts off my goods. I would feel good about my sales and then, when I had sold all I could, I would put the clothes back in the drawers and the strawberry shortcake dolls back into their strawberry carrying case. I was quite content. As was my mother who liked me playing garage sale much more than when I was pretending to be married to John from ChIps and I told her he was an alcoholic.

Eventually though, like most things in life, the luster had worn off. I grew tired of the imaginary people who smoked Newport Lites and listened to the musical stylings of Alabama getting all up in my business. I was over those duds. I needed to spice it up and step up my game. I needed excitement. I needed to actually interact with another human being.

Up the road lived an elderly man named Bruce. He was amazing - he thought me how to dance to the song "Glow Little Glowworm". He once broke into our house and put foot-print cut outs all over the floor and walls as he thought I might get a kick out of it. I thought it was magic! Also he used to go through our mail. One time he opened a poster from Disneyland because he said it looked important. I think he might have had dementia. Regardless, he was my friend. And just the friend that would enjoy a real live garage sale.

My mom was out in the garden picking strawberries and trying to relocate any salamanders she came across since I had been in the habit of finding them and making them my pets. I had three already, Sally Jessie and Raphael and she didn't want me to get anymore. I think they freaked her out. Anyway, she was occupied and I decided to load every single stuffed animal I owned into the back of my wagon and took off for Bruce's house. In Cindy Pink the Garage Sale Lady's world - you went big or you went home. So I took them all. I took the care bears and the Zapf baby dolls. All of them. I was like a gypsy or something.

Bruce seemed a little confused when I rolled up saying I needed to sell the toys in order to make some money. I am sure he thought we were destitute and my mom had sent me to try and score some cash. So he begrudgingly bought every single toy. I think I made about a dollar off of it and I was feeling good. My first real sale!

That excitement lasted about twenty minutes until the reality of what I had done hit me. My mom came into my room and found me sobbing and holding a dollar bill. The place had been ransacked. I dug out every single doll I could find. There was nothing left but a snoopy snow-cone maker and some puzzles. My Mom had to go down to crazy Bruce's house, get the dolls back for me and then come back and explain that I shouldn't do that again. The good news was that I got to keep the buck and I got my stuffed animals back. The bad news was my mom told me Cindy Pink the Garage Sale Lady had to go. Immediately. Apparently me wandering the streets selling my toys for cash painted our family as a bit trashy and poor. Not exactly the reputation she was going for.

I've lost my love for garage sales but I'm stilll weird as fuck. Some things never change.

Welcome David Caruso Fans!

It has come to my attention that my Caruso encounter was linked on the blog "Caruso Revealed" and fans of David have been hitting up The Danger Zone. AWESOME!! Welcome fellow Gingersnap lovers!

I am sure this isn't exactly the sort of site you bargained for when you clicked the link, but I am happy to have you all the same. Peruse the merchandise and stay a while.

CARUSO FANS UNITE!

Awesome blog: Caruso Revealed!

Random Pic of the Day

Song O' The Afternoon: Rob & Fab Slow Jam Edition

It's so smooth. It's so sensitive. It's so fucking awesome.

Dear Mama

I'm sorry for calling Raven Symone a c**t on my radio show.....even though she is one.

I'm Plimpton?

Last night on my radio show someone said that if I was a Goonies character I would be Martha Plimpton. My ego is completely blown. Not to say that Ms. Plimpton isn't wicked talented - because she is - but man, why do I gotta be the Plimp? I would be Mouth in a heartbeat. I would be Rosa the housekeeper. Hell I'd be Troy's dad or the Throw Mama From The Train lady before I would want to be Plimpton. I understand why they would say that - she was spunky and liked to say smart ass things. Also we both share a unique look and penchant for wearing oversize glasses. I get it, but I'm not happy about it. Sigh.

Why is it that the sassy sidekicks are always freaks?

In Honor of Sensei!

Best. Night. Ever.

I knew it was going to have to be an act of God in order to top my Mickey Dolenz sighting last week. Well get ready for some biblical shit because last night I had double the star power and double the awesome - I'm suprised the world didn't implode with two stars of that caliber being within inches of each other. What dapper dans could cause such an amazing response from me? Holy shit....are you ready for the reveal?

David Caruso.

And wait for it...

Wait for it....

Martin Kove - aka Kreese the Cobra Kai sensei.


Caruso was who I spotted first - I would be able to pick that gingersnap out of any crowd. He and some real bad-ass looking dudes were enjoying delicatessen treats and talking show. He was wearing a brown leather jacket that really brought out the pink in his skin and orange in his hair. I could barely breathe. You have no idea how many times my friend Darcy and I have made David Caruso jokes - seriously. Somewhere deep in my elfin heart I think I might have a legitimate crush on him.



As if that wasn't amazing enough - a friend of mine pointed out Martin Kove standing right next to me. MARTIN "STRIKE FIRST. STRIKE HARD. NO MERCY SIR" Kove. OH. MY. GOD. I had "You're the best! The Best! The best around!!!" playing in my head on repeat. Might I just say that Mr. Kove is looking pretty freaking good! Seriously, he had a healthy head of hair, a nice suit and a rocking stashe. Good show, sensei!



Oh man. I can't even imagine what could top those sightings. 2009 is off to one helluva start!

How to Party In A Pasture: 101

(ed. note: I do not condone underage drinking/drinking and driving nor partying on land that is not yours. But I do condone being awesome. )

Want to drink some cheap beer with friends but only have a cow pasture 20 miles outside of the city limits as a place to congregate? Don’t despair, my friends! You're in luck! I just so happen to be an authority on partying in pastures!

Being from a small town in Tejas, I’ve spent many years perfecting this art and will now, at no charge might I add, share with you all the tricks I have picked up over the years. With my informative guide, you too can have a blast boozing it up with pals in knee high grass while dodging rattlesnakes and cow shit! Yee-Haw!

Now there are two types of pasture parties - ones that are on land that is owned by someone you know and ones that are on land that does not belong to anyone you know. The best bet is always to go to parties where you know the land owners. The reason? There is probably a gate that you have access to and that will allow you to open and close said gate at will. This will keep out the cops AND the undesirables who like to carry fifths of Jack Daniels and switchblades on their person. These people exist – believe me. But whether you are sneaking onto somebody’s land or breaking into your family’s ranch house all in the name of a good time – these are timeless tips for you to enjoy.

Pasture Parties 101:

• Truck coolers are your friends! Remove all of your friends tools and baseball equipment, buy a couple of bags of ice – and VOILA! You have a cooler that can easily ice down the couple of cases of beer that you buy in Oklahoma and have them cold and refreshing by the time you hit up your favorite pasture. Just remember to have a good story on deck if by chance the cops pull you over and question what is leaking out of the back of the truck. Claiming to have driven through a sprinkler, for the record, doesn’t seem to work.

• Remember to douse yourself in OFF! Nothing ruins a drunken stupor like finding ticks in your nether regions. And believe me – they always go to your nether regions. You might think that you won’t be wading in waist deep scrub – but you never know when some headlights resembling those of a crown Victoria start to make their way into the pasture and BAM! Next thing you know, you and your friends are doing the GI Joe crawl through bushes and you better pray you put your off on.

• Don’t stick boots/shoes in bonfire. This should seem pretty obvious – but you would be amazed at how cold your pigs can get when you are standing around and boozing. And speaking of booze that might make you loose some of your depth perception and the next thing you know you’ve got your Doc Martens a little too close to the flame and the soles are melting. You try explaining that one to your mother – not an easy situation to come up with a convincing lie about.

• Don’t pick a fight with hicks who carry around bottles of Jack Daniels in their back pocket. Another obvious tip – but again, its amazing what a couple of drinks will do to people and their confidence. Also, you may not think that it is possible to carry a fifth of Jack in a back pocket – but let me tell you that it is. This one crazy dude, I think his name was Corey, used to carry a bottle around in his back pocket. He was also ALWAYS down to rumble and didn’t care who got in the way. I saw beer bottles whizz past my head and fists flying more times than I can count. Hicks like to fight – it’s a fact of nature. Be careful who you piss off.

• And for the ladies out there -Don’t point out to drunken sluts that they are in fact, drunken sluts. Again, obvious – but also very dangerous. I narrowly avoided a good sucker punch when I told a senior girl who was bonin’ the dude I was dating that she had legs like peanut butter – easily spread. I lucked out because she thought I was just being funny as opposed to actually calling her out for being a dirty whore. Other girls have not been so lucky. Even good girls have been known to throw punches when they are in the pasture. Its like Lord of The Flies and Shit.

• Beware of the “Body Suit Girl”. If you are a male and you encounter one of these girls there is a good chance you could get a blow job out of it. The downside is of course, VD of some sort. If you are a girl, you could end up in the category above. Finding yourself trying to dodge a bottle of Boone’s as the chick is going after you. If you are not familiar with who or what a “Body Suit Girl” is – you can pick them out pretty easily. The BSG tend to wear, well bodysuits. They like to drive jewel toned quasi-sporty off brand cars (Eagle Talon, Ford Probe, Pontiac Sunfires) and drink either Boone’s and or Bud Ice. And although the fashions might be a little different now, don’t let it fool you, the BSG do indeed still exist.

• Have a good alibi ready for your mother. Lets say you think you have it down because you tell your mom you are going to Robert’s. What you didn’t specify is that it was Robert’s parents farm as opposed to Roberts house in a nice neighborhood. Clever, right? WRONG. Coming home with hay lodged into the wheel area of your Nissan Sentra is sure to tip your Mom off – saying that Robert’s parents needed to weed their curb isn’t going to cut it. Trust me.

• Be prepared to flee! This is where the OFF! And the good alibi come together. Say for example you are in a field and the cops show up. Heaven forbid you get an MIP – so you do whatever you have to. In my particular case it was doing the GI Joe crawl fast as lightning into the center of the field, laying low until the police lost interest. What I couldn’t tell at first, due to it being pitch fucking black, was that I had crawled into a pond and I was covered from the knees down in mud. Coming out of a pond with another dude, caked in mud from the knees down, leads people to believe that you were out there pleasuring him. To top off the mortification, say you come home and your mom is awake and questioning how you became coated in mud. ALIBI! I used the brilliant “was inline skating at the Mormon church and fell onto the grass. The sprinklers were on so I got muddy” line. Brilliant.

• Drink whatever you can get your hands on. Sure, having a nice case of Stella would be golden. But doodles, you are about an hour outside of town and the nearest liquor store is in another state. Don’t be proud. Drink whatever you can get your grubby mits on. Warm ZIMA? Sure. Bud Ice? Lovely. A wine cooler, couple bottles of MGD and a glass of Wild Turkey? Don’t mind if I do. Sure it will probably make you sick – but the point is, you’re drinking!

• Beware of getting your head run over by a Toyota Tacoma.
Please see this for details: http://morganinla.blogspot.com/2007/09/curse-of-ford-ranger-part-1-high-school.html

WHICH BRINGS US TO MY FINAL AND IN SOME WAYS MOST IMPORTANT RULE OF THUMB
• Don’t get sick on or around dudes you have a crush on. This lesson was learned the hard way after a long night of drinking swill, I had to endure a 45 min truck ride home. I am notoriously carsick and this was no exception. I made it through the drive, in which the super hot senior who was driving me decided to blare Alice in Chains, without incident. But the second the car door opened tossed my cookies all over the dude. To this day, if I hear “Rooster” it makes me nauseous. Also, the dude totally didn’t want to be around me after that. Cant imagine why!


More advanced tips to follow in my 201 series!!!
Remember kids – don’t drink and drive.

Gross Out Discovery of the Afternoon

Mechanically.

Separated.

Chicken.

Oh holy shit is that the most disgusting thing ever or what?!

Funniest Image of the Day: Barry Bostwick Edition

"Hollywood's newest MEGASTAR".......Oh yes, that Barry Bostwick is outta this world famous!

HEY GIRL HEY - TONIGHT!

Tonight's topic is:

CHILD STARS!!!!

www.latalkradio.com
9-10pm PST

Call in!!!!!

Star Wars As Told By Someone Who Has Never Seen It

Star Wars: Retold (by someone who hasn't seen it) from Joe Nicolosi on Vimeo.

Thanks to Adam for finding this!

Happy Wonder Pets Tuesday!

Video Superstar of 2009: Mark Gormley!!!

Dear Downstairs Neighbor: F - You!

Look buddy - I'm forever grateful that you rescued me from my locked bathroom that one Sunday. Really I am. You heard me screaming for help and after about 20 minutes you stuck your head out your window and followed my instructions on how to get me the fuck out of my porcelain prison. So thank you. But, yesterday you really pissed me off.

Stop drumming on my rockband drum kit? It wasn't like it was midnight and I was pretending to be the drummer from Rush. It was 3 in the afternoon. On a fucking holiday. So sorry to have interrupted your Oprah viewing - I hope you can still figure out how to become a better you. Here's a thought - ditch the Ed Hardy clothes and take the gigantic stick out of your ass and you'll be on the right path.

Let me just say that I have never once complained about the noises coming from your apartment. Noises that are carnal in nature. I would hazard to guess that my kick-ass drumming on "Spirit in the Sky" is far less offensive than hearing you beating up some chicks guts, if you know what I mean and I think you do. Also, I never complained when said lady friend decided to have a post coital chat with her BFF on speakerphone...at 3am. I didn't complain. You were having a good time by the sounds of it and I didn't want to ruin it. Well that ends now.

Yep - I'm going to fucking raise hell the next time I hear you making sexy. HELL! I will tell the landlord you have a nasty kitty that sits in your window and meows when I walk past. I will tell you to shut your front door so that I don't have to listen to your TV blaring. I will make you rue the day that you put the kibosh on my drumming. Phil mother fucking Collins didn't get to be awesome over night. It took time and practice. I will forever blame you if my drumming career goes in the shitter due to lack of practice time.

I hope you know how much of an ass you are. And to think I was going to feel bad if our apartment crushed you in the event of a massive earthquake. Well no more worrying about that! HA! And don't worry - I won't ask for your assistance on getting out of my bathroom ever again. I got a new doorknob, anyway. Jerk.

Oh and I bet if I checked your apartment I would find a jewelry box full of pukka shells. You just strike me as that type of guy. I hazard to guess that had I been drumming along to some LFO you wouldn't have had a problem with it. Figures.

Hey-O!!!!

Its a great day to be an American.

I can't imagine why I didn't kiss anyone until I was 16....

Song Of The Night: Big Ole' Mole Edition

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! FALCOR! AHHHHHHHHHH!

An Open Letter to The Lil' Varmit That Could: Nutso P. Cline, III

Dear Nutso P Cline,

I am assuming that you are dead by now and will have to read this via supernatural means. Well, I suppose it would take supernatural forces in general for you to be able to read at all considering you are a squirrel. But that's neither here nor there. I hope you go to whatever lengths necessary in order to get your beady eyes on this post - because this for you, ole' sport.

Nutso P Cline, let me first say that you were a gentleman and a scholar. A God amongst ordinary squirrels. And you stole my heart, kind sir, from the moment I laid eyes on your giant ears.

I bought you as a present for my then beau, all the while knowing that he would reject you and I would be left to be your keeper. And reject you he did and so you and I started our journey together. I purchased you the ultimate bachelor pad and made sure that you were treated like the little prince you were. You enjoyed chewing on toilet paper tubes and burrowing in the fluffy nesting materials I would buy for you.

Do you remember our trip from Portland to Eugene in the U-Haul? Just you and me on the open road - chugging along and listening to Jagged Edge? You loved Jagged Edge. You loved your rolling ball as well. I'll never forget the time that you escaped from it and were running loose in my apartment. I was scared to death that in the process of catching you I would somehow manage to rip off your tail. Thankfully, your tail stayed on and you got back into the cage in time for me to make my Spanish final.

There were trying times as well. Like when I learned that you suffered from not only depression but also diabetes and that if your tail was to rip off you would not be able to regenerate a new one. Also, your growth. When I brought you home you were just a wee thing with big ears. A little Desperaux if you will. Then you started growing. And growing. And growing. And eventually ended up the size of a pound cake. That freaked me out, I'm not going to lie. Also you had orange chompers like a nutria. These were all things that I probably should have researched before buying you - but I learned my lesson and ended up keeping you despite your mood swings and Steel Magnolia-esque diabetic shock moments.

I wasn't the only one who enjoyed your company, either. Darcy and her mother took care of "Ratso" while I was on vacation. As did Stefani and Amy. Everyone thought you were a real scamp! And might I add, I scored some tail using your adorableness as a lure to get a man to come inside for a nightcap. For that, I am eternally grateful.

Having to leave you behind as I made my journey back to my homeland was a difficult, I know it was the right decision for both of us. Zany Zoo Pets welcomed you with open arms into their petting zoo. All the little school children loved to come in and pet you behind your ears and you finally had some purpose in your little rodent life.

Nutso, to this day I have dreams that I find you and have forgotten to feed you these past 8 years. I see your little emaciated body and it breaks my heart. Bottom line, I miss ya boo.

You were a good squirrel and I hope you are enjoying that Zany Zoo in the sky!

xoxo-
The lady who fed you treats

I've got my ticket on a spaceship to awesome-town!!!

BATTLESTAR MOTHERFRAKING GALACTICA IS BACK!!!!!
I'm so excited about this show that I can hardly contain myself. There is nothing I love more than some intergalactic awesomeness and this show has that in spades. Sure watching a science fiction show makes me a giant nerd and sure my love for space shenanigans drives the men away - but you can't choose who you love and love BSG, I do.

SO. FRAKING. EXCITED.

Happy Freaking Friday!

Photo of the Evening

If I wasn't already going to hell for the last video I posted, then I am certainly going for this one.

See you in hell...

I am SO going to hell for laughing at this. First off, this was my favorite "Intervention" because it was so freaking twisted. Secondly, I am a big fan of Katrina and the Waves. Thirdly, I'm demented or something.

"I FEEL LIKE I'M WALKING ON SUNSHINE"

Saucy Coffee Maker

Inside The Taco: New Coffee Machine - Watch more Free Videos

Disturbing Piece of Information: Afternoon Edition

There are a few reasons why my mother has never received a link to my blog or radio show - most of the reasons involve my use of inappropriate language. I would give longshoremen a run for their money with the way I drop f-bombs.

Well my mom, being the proud and crafty parent that she is, decided to do some investigating and managed to find the radio show which in turn links her to my blog. BUSTED. The saving grace is that her school blocks access to blogs and she goes to bed early so there isn't a lot of time for her to peruse this piece of shit. See there I go again with the language! What the school doesn't block is the radio site. This is a bit more troublesome.

You see, the show started off sweet and demure with me just waxing poetic on Center Stage. By the second show things took a turn for the worst when the station manager informed me that there were no restrictions as to what I could say. You can't tell me that. Really. I was very conscious of not saying anything lewd in the first show. I didn't even say "butt". And then you go and tell me I could talk about donkey punches and all hell breaks loose.

If anyone listened to the show on Tuesday you can imagine the horror I feel right now when my mother emailed me saying:
"I listened to the show....."

The ellipses says it all. Oh man, oh man. Knowing my mother listened to me lead a discussion about masturbation is one of the most mortifying things ever. And that's saying something for me. Because my life is one mortifying event after another. The pro is that I wasn't discussing anything about me personally - but still. Oh man, this isn't good.

If anyone wants to adopt a 29 year old train wreck, let me know. I am assuming my mother will be disowning me within the hour.

There isn't enough Klonopin in the world for this:

Highlight of the Year!

I know its only 15 days into 2009 but I've basically had an experience last night that will be hard to top.

As I was grabbing my complimentary popcorn and soda at last nights Big Love season 3 premiere (tune in Sunday on HBO!)- I ended up having the best celebrity run in EVER. Seriously. Tops the time I ran into my favorite soap star (Jasper Jax - Meow) and accidentally flashed him. And ranks only behind telling Vince Vaughn he has the clap in awesome celeb sightings.

Micky " Hey, Hey, We're The Monkees" Dolenz!!!

I had the BIGGEST crush on he and Mike growing up. I mean like BIG TIME crush. Davy Jones was for the birds - Micky was where it was at. He played the drums, sang my two favorite Monkees songs, "Pleasant Valley Sunday" and "Last Train To Clarksville" and rocked a sick fro'. Best yet? His daughter starred in the classic film "She's Out Of Control" with Tony Danza.

I can die happy now!

THANK YOU TO JASON FOR FINDING THIS GEM!!!

Hysterical Hysteria & Bloody Kitty Parties: TONIGHT!

Do you live in LA or NYC and need something to do tonight?

I know you do, don't lie and say that you have plans already because I know you don't. Seriously, don't bullshit a bullshiter, Ok. Because if you are like me, your plans on any given night involve perfecting your drumming skills on "Spirit In The Sky", drinking wine straight out of the bottle, and playing with your pet rabbit. So believe me, you are in dire need of getting out of the house. Well, tonight is the night to dust off your Sunday best and get the fuck out!

If you are in:

NYC
CHERYL'S JOYOUS TOUCHSTONE

The Cheryl's throw a mean dance party and this one is sure to be on par with greatness. Get ready to do synchronized dancing while getting doused with fake blood and glitter!!

L.A.
PAYPHONE WEDDING

Come out and support a great improv team! Three of the performers can also be heard on "The Hey, Girl. Hey" radio program.

So get your socially awkward self out there and do something! Take a chance, its your life.

Happy Thursday!!

Because the new year wouldn't be the new year without a fantastical adventure with CDO.

SHINE ON!

RIP Khan!

Would You Rather of the Afternoon: A Battle Royale

Would you rather:

Make out with Mona from Who's The Boss

OR

Make out with Blanche from Golden Girls?


In both cases full sobriety is required and the make-out session will take place on a Craft-Matic Adjustable bed with Neil Sedaka's "Bad Blood" playing in the background.

My Dark Confession: And I Ain't Talking Billy Dee Williams

I have a deep seeded hatred of Shifty Shellshock and his cohorts in Crazytown. First off, "Shifty Shellshock"? Nice alliteration , ass-clown. And naming your band Crazytown is forcing me to believe that you are indeed crazy-insane!You presumptuous jerks - let me make that decision for myself. I'll listen to your music and THEN decide if you do indeed dwell in a Crazytown. And "Butterfly" - sweet Lord don't get me started on that song. Oh man that makes LFO look like fucking Bob Dylan in the lyrics department. When we met a douchebag at a frat party back in college my friend Squidy and I would ask them if they loved Crazytown and the douchebags always said yes. They couldn't get enough of "Butterfly" or puka shell necklaces. Double Yuck. Basically I am morally opposed to all things Crazytown....

Except

I was living in sin down in Austin and had a lot of spare time on my hands seeing as I wasn't working and one day I stumbled across a video. It was Shifty Shellshock and Paul Oakenfold and the song way "Starry Eyed Suprise". Now I need to be clear about something - I like pretty much all types of music except for techno. I hate techno. I hate any offshoot of techno. I hate trance. I hate it all. It is so repetitive and mind numbing.

So seeing these two despised things collide in a video should have sent me into a tailspin - but instead I found myself falling in love with the song. So in love that it is in constant rotation on my ipod and if I were to ever start working out (which why would I since I have this smoking hot bod) I would definitely put this song on a workout mix.

I just feel like I needed to be honest with everyone seeing as I had "confessions" on my radio show last night and I felt too ashamed to admit this one. Can you blame me? Shifty motherfucking Shellshock? Woof!

Oh and in the interest of full disclosure, the boyfriend I was crashing with not only loved techno music but also used to frequent raves. I found out after I reached up into his closet and a mesh shirt and jinco jeans fell on me. That was a deal breaker.

Don't Dress Up On My Account!

Oh hello there, D'Angelo! Don't bother with the formalities - like clothing - just sing me a ditty about making sweet love and we can call it a day.

Happy Wednesday!

What Do You Get When You Invite 3 Knuckleheads On The Radio With You?

Hilarity and Masturbation!!!

If you didn't catch last nights "Hey, Girl Hey" show, you can listen to it via this link: http://www.latalkradio.com/images/Morgan-011309.mp3

If you thought those dudes were funny, then check them out tomorrow night when their improv team Payphone Wedding performs!

THURSDAY JAN. 15TH
Crashbar Improv
Time:
8pm
Street:
1523 N La Brea Ave.

Would You Rather of the Afternoon

Would you rather sit in a bathtub full of cottage cheese for 24 hours straight

OR
Wear a diaper full of tuna salad for 24 hours straight?

I know, I think I might have gone a little too far this time.

Confess Your Guilty Pleasures Tonight on The Hey Girl Show

9-10pm PST
www.latalkradio.com
Call In:
323-203-0815
And you know I will be talking about some Silk Stalkings!!!

Need Something To Do Thursday Night in LA?

PAYPHONE WEDDING is performing!!

Vince and that other dude totally went and saw this improv team and look how hard it made them laugh! They are seriously dying! I think it might be a bit unhealthy to laugh that hard at something so hysterical!

If its good enough for them then its good enough for you! So get your ass down there and watch!

PAYPHONE WEDDING
THURSDAY JAN. 15TH
Crashbar Improv
Time:
8:00pm - 10:45pm
Location:
Tre Stage
Street:
1523 N La Brea Ave.

Payphone Wedding is:
Michael Capes, Hector Santa Cruz, Rene Gube, Danny Mastrangelo, Toni Ramos, Jake Regal, Amy Vorpahl

Dream Weaver

I've always had extremely vivid dreams and under normal circumstances (ie - me not getting black-out drunk) I always seem to remember them. And folks, I'm not talking about "I had a cr-azy dream where I didn't have any pants on" type of dreams. Its more like "my dream is fully animated and set in outer space" kind of stuff. One time I dreamed that my mattress had sunken in the middle a little bit and a shallow puddle of water had formed and a full-grown great white shark was swimming in it. Or the one where I was being chased out of a burning house by a levitating baby that would only scream "Zucchini" at me. And don't even get me started on the animal carnage dreams because those are insane. My dreams are as crazy as I am and that is saying something. Even my therapists have been intrigued/freaked out by them.

I have a stockpile of dream analyzation books back at my house and like to look into them from time to time to see what the heck it all means. Normally its a cluster fuck trying to make sense of it all. Well today I wanted to see what one of my dreams last night meant as I seem to have a variation on this dream pretty frequently. I dream I am getting married but I have no idea who the person is and normally there is an issue with the venue/dress/ etc - its one of the more tame dreams I have. Anyway, last nights was pretty much the same only my soon to be husband also hung out with a gang of Asian street racers a-la "Fast and the Furious Tokyo Drift".

So I am looking up the dream on some of those online sights and they all said "blah blah its basically your masculine and feminine sides trying to merge into one. balancing your emotions" and all that shit. But then there was an interesting addition to the analyzation - it said people who dream of this can contact spirits. HEY-O! What?!

I freaking knew some creepy poltergeist shit was bound to happen in my life and this rinky-dink website only confirms it. First and foremost, I don't want to communicate with spirits. No really, I'm good. I'd prefer to live my life spirit free - unless we are referring to alcoholic spirits - then in that case you can just call me the ghost whisperer! But seriously, I don't want to somehow channel the dead. I don't even like movies about that. I hated the movie Ghost and don't even get me started on Casper.

Plus, I am easily startled. Do they give you any warning or am I the one initiating contact? I don't want some ghoulish son of a bitch just popping into my life with no warning. That could give me a heart attack. And most importantly, aside from me being quite scared of ghosts and partial to living life sans crystal balls and tarot cards, the main issue I have with this is that I don't need one more thing to make me even weirder. You add "receptionist to the spirits" to my love of mellow rock, 70's sci-fi, sheep knickknacks, and Jackee Harry and you have one fucked up chick.

I've decided to not take any incoming calls from wayward spirits looking for a new friend. Nope, no thank you. I've got much too much on my plate to deal with their bullshit. I have to figure out how to successfully merge my masculine and feminine so as to stop having wedding dreams before I can start living life like a Cher song.

Cheryl Joyous Touchstone!

CHERYL (the dance party that will ruin your life) presents: JOYOUS TOUCHSTONE

Come DIE and be REBORN with us on the DANCE FLOOR this Thursday night!

CHERYL: JOYOUS TOUCHSTONE is gold, glitter, galactic cats, light/darkness, creation/destruction, and rivers of FAKE BLOOD!

THIS THURSDAY January 15th 10pm till you drop
(and every third Thursday of the month)
AT Royale, 5th Ave between 12th and 13th Streets, Brooklyn
(F or R train to the 4th Ave/9th Street stop)

Need more dance floor FASHION inspiration? Just look like the contents of a jewelry box.
THINK:
- Joyce Leslie meets the British Crown Jewels
- Wet seal dripping with sapphires and rubies
- Gem-encrusted tank tops and gold leaf pantyhose

PLAN TO CALL IN DEAD ON FRIDAY.

P.S. Join the CHERYLites GROUP PAGE on Facebook and receive our invites, see CHERYL party pics, and get links to the videos!

Tuesday Would You Rather

Today's Would You Rather:

Would you rather be forced to listen to the "Free Willy" theme song on repeat for the next 5 years

OR

Would you rather be forced to listen to "Can't Fight The Moonlight" from Coyote Ugly on repeat for the next 5 years?

Both prospects in my opinion are equally terrifying. I think if I was subjected to more than a few days of LeAnn singing "Can't Fight The Moonlight" I would end up turning into one of the zombies from 28 Days Later. I'm pretty sure I would go bat shit crazy and start ripping people to shreds and spewing blood. That song really, really gets to me. I think I would choose the soothing lyrics of MJ - sure it still sucks ass but at least I could block it out a little more. And it would make me more conscious of the plight of whales by reminding me of Willy and his poor little drooping dorsal fin.

Happy Tuesday

Happy Tuesday from Melissa Manchester and the Muppets

Don't Forget to Tune In Tomorrow Night To Hey Girl!

images taken via: http://fuckyeahryangosling.tumblr.com/

Website of the Afternoon: Gosling Edition

http://fuckyeahryangosling.tumblr.com/

link via: best week ever

Taking A Tip From That Squinty-Eyed Perpetual Optimist

And I'm just going to will myself into a better mood. If Brother Joel can do it, so can I.

Speaking of Brother Joel - my late Great Grandma Toni loved her some "Brother Joel". With that said she loved anything that came on the Christian networks and hated anything that had the slightest whiff of witchcraft. When I was little and sick my mother sent me to Toni's house. I hated going there. She was convinced that the cure for the common cold could be found in copious amounts of chicken and dumplings and glasses of milk. Gag. She also wouldn't let me watch "The Smurfs" or "I Dream of Jeanie" because it dealt with witchcraft. Now I don't know about you but I've never seen someone conjure up some small blue critters after repeating lines that Gargamel said on the show - but I could be mistaken. She did approve of Little House on the Prairie and Divorce Court. The latter she allowed me to watch because "its real life and that's what your mother did to your father. She divorced him". Which is awesome to tell a feverish 8 year old who is trying to choke down a pound of dumplings.

Toni was a real character. She lived what the old timers would call, "a hard scrapple" life. She grew up in the dust bowl and rode on horseback to her wedding. She picked cotton and contracted TB. All of those things lead her to have quite possibly the most negative outlook on life in all of the Northern Hemisphere. She could find the bad in everything. Swimming in the baby pool was pretty much the best way to get her started. She could tell you all the ways you could accidentally die. She also told me to keep an eye out when I was in Italy because that's where my great grandfather got shot and torn up with shrapnel...during WWII. I told her I would keep an eye out just in case there are some geriatric Nazi's still hiding out in the hillsides of Tuscany just waiting to make their move.

Basically I inherited A LOT from Toni. From my constant worry to my obsession with the rapture - these can all be traced back to that lady. And I don't hold it against her.

But thats what makes Toni's obsession with Joel Osteen so hysterical. This is a man whose platform is basically turning frowns upside down. He always wants to look for the good in bad situations. And for some reason Toni ate it up with a spoon. I just don't get it. But considering I inherited by negative nelly behavior from her, I decided the way to pick this day up would be to watch a little Joel on the you tube.

That man blinks A LOT!

So, wish me luck - I'm going to try and turn my frown upside down. And if chugging a bottle of schnapps and blaring Kenny loggins is what it is going to take, then so be it!

Hey, Girl. Hey! - Tuesday Night!!!

Tomorrow night 9-10pm PST

The "Hey, Girl. Hey" Show!
www.latalkradio.com

MYSTERY TOPIC!!!

Call In:
323-203-0815

Special Guests:

Mike Capes
Rene Gube
Hector Santa Cruz

All Apologies

Be a lamb and check out this funny video from my friend:

All Apologies - watch more funny videos

Song of the Day

I've got too much free time on my hands

Because I've started making action figures. First up was one of the incomparable Mark "Return of the Mack" Morrison.

I need to get a life.

Someone Put Me Out of My Misery.

Oh Leo and Kate - I know how you are feeling in this photo. Rejuvinated. Ready to take on the world. Or at least to totes bone in the back of a car. But I feel ya - you are on top of the world. Well guess what, assholes? Shit is about hit the fan. Enjoy the nudie painting sessions and clogging in the basement with the poor people while you can, because it ain't going to be smooth sailing for much longer.

If you couldn't tell, I'm having a Titanic kind of day. Which isn't to be confused with a Chico's kind of day - which also sucks but doesn't hold the romance and mayhem of a Titanic day.

I woke up with the wide eyed enthusiasm of Leo - ready to rock and roll and make things happen. Between my 5am wake up and 11 am that lil scamp with big dreams has been replaced with the Leo that is chained to a pipe in a sinking ship. Everyone forgot he is down there and he is up to his nostrils in cold water. What a bummer. No more having people embarrass themselves by pretending to fly on the front of the ship while screaming lame ass affirmations. Nope. It's time to jump in the life rafts and it looks like there isn't enough room for lil' ole me and fucking Kate won't share her chunk of debris. So here I am, floating in the cold, dark waters, freezing to death and about to drown in the sea called my office.

I'm contemplating putting "My Heart Will Go On" on repeat here in my cubicle just to drive the point home.


God, is it Friday yet?

Garth VS Me: The battle of the oversized glasses wages on!

I've Got A Question For You:

Who is Johnny?

Happy Thursday!

Swoon Alert: Omar Sharif Edition

I just go weak in the knees when I watch Omar Sharif in action. That man's inky black eyes do me in every time. And while being bedridden this week, the man once again ensnared me with his exotic accent and sexy puppy dog eyes. Yes, I watched "Jewel of the Nile". Now I love "Romancing the Stone" - love it. Jewel? Not so much. Even the Billy Ocean song can't save that film. But if Omar is there - I'll watch.

I first fell in love with Omar (props on the rocking name, Boo!)back when I was but a wee hobbit. I had a bit of an obsession with musicals and I was smitten the first time I saw Omar come on the stage as Mr.Arnstein. The dapper suits and the cocky attitude made my munchkin heart swoon. And to top it off, he was a good for nothing gambler. Just the type of man that I have fallen for ever since. Kenny Rogers, you listening? I hated when that Barbara character came on screen. What a ham. She kept taking screen time away from Omar. Between her hamming it up with Omar in "Funny Girl" and her grating accent and awful acting in the Ryan O'Neal classic "Whats Up Doc", I've never quite forgiven her.

A few years later I found my Mom sobbing in front of the TV in the living room. I knew that meant she had been watching some film that tore her up. In this case she had just finished watching "Dr. Zhivago" and she was a mess. A couple years later I saw her rolling on the ground crying with the "Wind Beneath My Wings" playing on screen. "Beaches" claimed another victim. And I caught the tail end of a crying jag that my mom and aunt were on after a viewing of "Terms of Endearment". Hearing them choke out "he was such a bastard" and "Oh God, when she *sob sob sob* son that he shouldn't be mad at her * sob * and then she DIES", has scarred me to this day. But in this particular instance her poison was Omar and after he drops dead (spoiler alert) and misses running into Julie in the square....well my mom was toast. I don't think she was back in commission for a few days. I didn't even hear her tumble rocks, she was so sad. And she loves tumbling rocks.

The Omar incident lead my mother to impart lasting words of wisdom to me. They were, "If you know whats good for you, never watch "Love Story" or Dr. Zhivago". it seemed a simple enough promise to make. But, what with kids being kids and all, that was a lesson that I had to learn for myself.

And believe me, I lived and learned it straight upJoe Public style. It took me a couple of years before I broke my promise - but when I did I knew exactly what she had warned me about. Dear me. That movie broke my heart into a thousand pieces. I collapsed into a pathetic blob on my bed and cried and cried. After a while my mom came into my room to check on me and see what the hell was going on. I'm sure she thought I had just watched "Babe" (those talking animal films always make me cry) but once she entered the room and caught glimpse of the credits rolling all she could do is look at me knowingly and shake her head. And then before the sad sack music could make her have a flashback to the film and cause her to be upset she hightailed it the fuck out of there. Not before yelling, "I told you so".

If you have a weekend to spend sobbing and wallowing in your sorrows, I highly recommend watching "Dr Zhivago" this weekend. Omar is smoking hot and Julie Christie has amazing hair. All in all a very good film. And Omar's glorious inky eyes have never looked inkier than with that snowy Russian background.

And don't even get me started on "Lawrence of Arabia"...holy shit between Peter O'Toole's eyes and Omar's I'm pretty much on a hot dude rocket-ship bound for my wildest dreams coming true! I get my own kind of blood-lust after watching that film, if you know what I mean and I think you do!

Dear Omar,

I don't care that you rough up Beverly Hills parking lot attendants. Really I don't. In fact that makes you MORE of a bad-ass in my eyes. You're in your late 70's for fucks sake! That is totally hot. Like smokin' hot. You are the only dude with inky black eyes for me! I live in LA, so if you are ever in the area, we can totally pull a Bonnie and Clyde and go rough up some valets. I'm totally cool with it.

Think it over, Boo.

XOXO-
Hobbit Girl

New Cheryl!!!

A new year and a new Cheryl!

This video is guaranteed to ruin your life!!

ROUS: Or How a Dastardly Rodent Ruined My Sick Day

Where is Chris Dane Owens in his Wesley the farm boy get-up when you need him? I've got a rodent of unusal size on my hands.

My lovely day spent sitting at home, tending to the cough and relaxing was interrupted without warning with gnawing and clawing coming from inside out kitchen cabinets. How Rude!

This thing isn't small either. I have a grown rabbit who could gnaw through a door quieter and less viciously than whatever rodent is lurking behind those cabinet doors. As I type this, I am barricaded in my room. There is a blanket under my door so as to block any entry of the beast into my room. Although by the sounds of the behemoth, it probably walks on hind legs and can use the doorknob. I think he is going to try and devour Donnie.

Someone needs to check the fire swamp, because one of their rodents of unusual size has gone AWOL.

Song O' The Afternoon!

"Somebody's Baby" by Jackson Browne.

My 4 Year Annivesary

What with me ringing in the new year with my rockband skillz and coming down with the bubonic plague, I had almost forgotten my "move to LA" anniversary! Yes, four years ago, this wild eyed dreamer set up shop in the city of angels hoping to make it in the film industry. Four years later? Well, I’m still here and I still have wild eyes alright, but that's mainly due to the fact that I ran out of contacts for my right eye and am now forced to function with one peeper.

These past four years have flown by. Why it seems like just yesterday that I first came to LA and decided to hit up some hot spots with my pal, Theresa. One of those nights ended with me basically telling a celeb that I thought he had VD. That was also the same night that I broke a pretty successful directors stereo system because in my drunkenness I thought it would be awesome to switch between listening to "Wishing Well" by Terrence Trent D'Arby and "Radio Free Europe" on full blast for hours on end. And my liver remembers the frequent trips to El Guapo that Darcy and I took quite clearly. Those visits to the weirdest sports bar ever (I'm talking go-go dancers at 3pm on a Sunday) normally culminated with us trying to drunkenly figure out how we consumed 8 daiquiris each and then us stumbling home and putting random furniture that we found on the side of the road on top of my car as to call dibs on it. And while we are on the subject of Darcy and Theresa, lets not forget the lovely times we had at Saddle Ranch. Oh Saddle Ranch, many a mimosa was had there! Between the gigantic proportions of not so great food, copious amounts of booze, wandering minstrels that don’t know any songs other than “brown eyed girl” and wanna-be actors doubling as waiters that put on faux Texas accents – what’s not to love?! Hell, we even got up close and personal with Ron Jeremy there! Our parents would be so proud.

And I can’t believe four years have passed since I lived in that lovely little studio in the heart of Hollywood. Oh the unit was so cute –If only I hadn’t had a methamphetamine addict living above me and the place would have been sheer perfection. I do miss that son of a bitch and his crazy ass “Trading Spaces” style home improvements that he would chose to get into around 3am. Nothing is more comforting when you are trying sleep then the sound of a chainsaw being revved up. I also loved it when he would become ultra aggressive and threaten me! Swoon. He was a heartbreaker for sure. And then there was the morbidly obese woman who lived next door to me who had a gaggle of bunnies in cages on her porch. She was a real treat – mainly because she apparently liked some kinky ass sex. One night I was doing some editing and I suddenly heard what sounded like someone being domestically abused. Mind you I had headphones on and I could hear it through my headphones. I jumped up and had my hand on the phone to call 911 (I was a pretty quick draw after having to deal with the Meth head threatening to pummel me into 1000 pieces) when I realized that the person getting slapped – and I do mean slapped – was a willing participant. Those yelps weren’t that of “Sleeping With The Enemy” style beatings. Nope. Those were the yelps of a woman getting into a man just going to town on her. The mental images that those sounds conjured up are the things that nightmares are made of. If you had seen this woman you might have mistaken her for the mom in “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape” uglier sister. And the real thing I miss about the apartment isn’t the fact that all the weird characters from Hollywood and Highland would change into their garb in front of my place. Meaning that at any given time you could see Shrek and Princess Fiona taking a smoke break or Spiderman slipping into the spandex. Nope, the real thing I miss was the excitement that came from living in such a seedy area. Nothing will ever top trying to sleep with some jackass blaring a car horn all night. By the time I finally realized he wasn’t going to stop, it was 5am and the horn was dying by this point. I made my way outside around 5:30, cranky and sleep deprived, only to find the culprit of all the horn honking….he was dead…slumped over with his head on the horn. I basically heard this man’s death beep. And I ignored it. Dead Man Honking, how I miss thee. Over the years I’ve upped the ante in seedy apartments (the crack den I just recently moved out of takes the cake in shitastic and dangerous abodes) but nothing tops that little crap-heap on Hawthorne.

My memories aren’t just relegated to drunken debauchery and neighbors trying to slit my throat. Nope, I came out here for film school and the first two years of my residency are pretty much a blur of classes and film shoots. Ah, art school. Nothing makes you want to blow a place up like being stuck in a computer lab during finals week around 5am with all of the undesirables. I saw more portly, greasy, pimpled boys sporting black faded “Zelda” shirts than I care to recall. Most of the times I was teetering on the verge of a Jonestown-esque massacre due to the level of nerdom that surrounded me at that school. And that’s saying something coming from the girl who loves sci-fi and mellow rock. These dudes were on a whole different level of nerdiness. Between late night computer lab conversations about X-Men and the latest World of Warcraft game and the over-sexed nature that every freaking student seemed to exude, I almost took a flame thrower to the place. Its natural selection – I don’t think those people are meant to breed. Seriously though, what’s the deal with nerds like that being so hyper- sexual? I remember that all the band nerds and theater geeks from high school were like that as well? All I could think was that these straight up dweebs were all kinds of sexually frustrated after years of reading those creepy super sexy Japanamation cartoons and then they came to a school where everyone (save me and a few others) were just like them. Pigs in shit I tell you. The amount of emo-clad game-design and animation students I saw sucking face and dry humping each other in the cafeteria is mind boggling.

Yes, time has flown. Four years have past since I left my job at the salon and headed for the land of broken dreams. I’ve held up ok. I’m taking improv classes. I joined a kickball team. I do a really terrible radio show. And I have a decent job. All in all not too bad.

Now check back in with me in two more years and I am sure we will see that I am now out on the streets, destitute and alone, forced to give hand jobs for 40oz of King Cobra. Just give me some time to hit bottom and we will really have something to blog about.

HEY GIRL HEY - TONIGHT!

Tonight! Tonight! Tonight!!!

9-10pm PST www.latalkradio.com
Call In #: 323-203-0815

Topic: Kids Shows
Guest: Michael Capes

Happy Tuesday!

Dropping Bombs Like a B52

I was at the doctors office yesterday trying to rid myself of whatever SARS/Cholera - like bug I've come down with and I thought I would play the comedian.

A nurse came in and saw me mid-coughing fit, tears streaming down my eyes, and said to me, "You don't look so good". To which I replied, "You should see the other guy"....A ZING!

Silence.

Then she explained to me that she was saying that I looked like I didn't feel good, which made me have to explain to her what the point of the lame joke I told was. When our super awkward discussion of the lame joke I told was over, she sort of looked at me like I was pathetic and left the room. And they left me there, alone, for over an hour. I am convinced she was punishing me for telling lame ass zingers. I guess I don't blame her. If I ever ran into those jerks from "Whos line is it anyway" I would probably scissor kick them in the jugular. I'm just glad I didn't mention to the nurse that I had this stupid blog - had she read the dud entries on here, I can bet I would still be waiting in that office. She was a stickler for good comedy.

Happy Monday!

My Own Personal Kryptonite : The Colin Edition

I was never one of those squealey tween girls who lost their shit over the flavor of the moment boys. And believe me, my mom was VERY thankful for this. Adding some sort of prepubecent boy crazy phase to my already overboard personality (see, my obsessive collecting of Sheep paraphernalia and my fear of tornadoes, devil possessions, spinal taps and the like) would have been more than she or anyone else could tolerate.

Don't get me wrong, I did have massive crushes on famous guys. I held onto the dream that Donnie Wahlberg would somehow make it to NE Texas, find me learning how to do out of date line dances during gym at the local middle school (The "Bad Bad Leroy Brown" - how is that an appropriate dance to teach someone in 92'?) and then he would sweep me off of my la gear wearing feet and take me back to Beantown and we would live happily ever after. But despite my love of NKOTB's resident bad boy and me being head over heels for Troy Donahue and Richard Egan who were stars in their own right.....40 years prior - I at least kept that shit to myself and my hormones in check.

This all changed when one Mr Colin Farell sauntered into my life in the flick "Tigerland". OH. SWEET. JESUS. Whatever I repressed from my tween years came back in crazy full force! The accent. The cussing. The fact that I might contract a venereal disease from him, which I could never fully recover from. All those were things that attracted me to that scamp beyond belief. I found myself mesmerized by his unruly brows and his overuse of man jewelry. Anything and everything he acted in I had to see. Even when I knew it was going to be a shit film, every ounce of my being made me to go and see it. He has an affect on me that cannot be explained. Well, it can be explained a little bit. Check out the scene in Tigerland where he takes a chick back to his hotel room. I'm just saying. Put some D'Angleo in the background and you pretty much have my wildest fantasy blown up to the big screen.

The hours upon hours I have wasted watching craptastic fare in order to catch a glimpse of my Irish whiskey dream! Have you even seen "American Outlaws"? Yeah, I didn't think so. Well I own it. Its the Jesse James movie he made with Scott Caan. I don't recommend it. And yet, I have been known to pop it in the ole' DVD player on occasion in order to get my leprechaun fix. Anyway, the list goes on and on. I even saw "Alexander" in the theater. Mind you it was the 2 dollar theater in my hometown but still. I was the only one watching - that says it all. The list goes on - what was the one where he was a dude in the CIA with Tom Bradys ex? Yeah I watched that.

Now there have been some good movies as well. I loved "Intermission" and he plays a bad dude with a soft spot for Celtic trance music. I loved "The Lost World" and "Tigerland" and many others. And I didn't just love Tigerland because the dude from Blue Crush was in it too. It was a legitimately good film. But mainly I just love me some dirty Irish boy. I can only imagine what my teetotaling family would say if I brought that scoundrel back to NE Texas for a visit. I am sure after dropping the f-bomb and calling people cunts a couple of times, we would have to call the ambulance to come and resuscitate my entire family. Almost worth it...almost.

Needless to say, with me being sickly I've been forced to lay in bed a lot more than I am comfortable with - which has lead me to watching TV. And this weekend Colin lured me in again, the bastard. How about SWAT? Lets just say that it was on FX two days in a row and I caught it...both times. That movie sucks. I know it sucks. But I'll be damned that with his freshly cut head of hair and by the looks of it a showered body - once again my subconscious forces me into viewing. And that tells you how strong the pull is since I hate Michelle Rodriquez and she is in SWAT - yet I still watch it. Why do I hate her? Well for one she almost ruins the best movie of all time - Blue Crush.

Damn you, Colin. Why can't you leave me be?!! Donnie Wahlberg would have never forced me to watch this bullshit! Worst case he would have torched a hotel room or made me play dress up in his urban "hardwear" clothing collection. He wouldn't have made me watch fucking SWAT. Damn you for being so dreamy. So gross and dreamy.

Monday, Monday

I'm not going to lie - I want to be at work right now about as much as I want to be gang banged by Menudo. So not that much.

Having two weeks off was pretty freaking nice, I must say. I spent week one playing rockband 24/7 and honing my drumming skills. Sure having my hands become arthritic from hitting the faux-skins wasn't ideal - but thats the price you must pay when you want to ROCK! Week two was spent with me harboring some sort of ebola virus. I sound as if I have a nasty case of TB and I look like I've already died from cholera. A sexy look all around.

A trip to the doctor is in store for today as my ribs cannot take any more coughing. And to top it off....I'm back at work. My desk is a disaster area. I have about 300 of my bosses emails to sift through and the icing on the cake is that we are sans interns for a while which means no minions to send to get my much needed latte. Ain't life a bitch. I need to win the lottery.


In honor of being back working for the man, I've posted a song. Enjoy.

Hey, Girl. Hey! - Tuesday Night Topic!!

Tuesday nights topic is:
Kids Shows

Special Guest:
Michael Capes

Tune in Tuesday, January 7th 9-10pm PST
http://www.latalkradio.com/

Happy Birthday to the OG Shitbag

I would like to send a birthday shout out to the original shitbag - Happy birthday, Boo! We've been pals for 10 years now and every year seems to be filled with more and more shenanigans - but nothing has come close to our first summer spent in college. The summer of 99'.

Sweet Lord did we have a ridiculous time or what? Between throwing themed parties, pawning my bike for Kaluha, stalking local frat boys via my database at the library, going to Costco in order to partake of the free samples instead of eating real meals, and posing for pictures outside of the local Rehab center - we had a freaking dynamite summer. I think we even squeezed in some classes as well.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Happy Saturday!

Hey Now! Kip Winger wishes you a very happy Saturday evening!

2009 is the year of the Hobbit

I am looking forward to good things in 2009. Or at least I am hoping for good things in 09' - Hell there isn't much time left. The world is set to end in 2012 and things better pick up now or else I am going to be REALLY fucking pissed off when the world implodes and I am still sitting alone in my apartment listening to Jim Croce and sketching up pictures of Starbuck and Lee Adama from BSG. That would totes suck ass. So, because there is no time like the present to switch gears and become an optimist, I am looking forward to all the amazing shit 2009 is going to throw at me. Last year is going to be a hard one to top though.

2008 gave me many, many treats. For one, I went on a Sci Fi bender and ended up falling in love with Battlestar Galactica. It takes a real nerd to sit down over the span of a week and watch 3 seasons back to back. But I did it. And I enjoyed every second of it. And I am a better person having viewed it. The final episodes start on the 16th and I am not sure I am ready for it. But I'm hoping that they will blow my mind.

Also, 08' took me to some amazing concerts. I got to visit a country and western music festival where I stuffed my face with sausage sandwiches and got hit on by many a critter. Most notably a female critter who wanted my tender lovin'. Thankfully the margaritas hadn't taken away my ability to run and run quickly away from her. Not that there is anything wrong with that - but it just ain't my style. And most exciting of all, I saw Hall and Oates, front and center at the Troubadour. Sure I had to go alone and wade through a sea of menopausal women who smelled as if they had doused themselves in a Sutter Home body wash - but it was the best concert and it rocked my socks off.

On the social scene, things were rolling right along in 08'. We saw the inaugural voyage of the Smooth Cruise and dear God did it live up to its name. Never has dressing up in a velour sailor inspired ballgown and sipping wine coolers while trawling around the waters of Marina Del Ray to the tunes of "Baker Street", been so much fun. I also joined an adult co-ed kickball league. Sure I looked a fool most of the time and was relegated to right field - which as everyone knows is where you put the quadriplegic retards - but I had a blast. Aside from throwing smooth galas and kicking ass at kids games, I also went out on a limb and started taking improv classes. You haven't lived until you have made a Heath Ledger corpse joke waaaaay too soon after his death on stage at a graduation show. And bombing in class is just as much fun! I'm not saying I was in a scene that I made about taking a gaggle of whores to the slaughter house because "lean meat" was in fashion - but I am not saying I didn't either. Sure I wanted to run out of the classroom crying from embarrassment, but I stuck with it and have really, really enjoyed it. And it that wasn't enough, for some really fucked up reason, I started hosting an online radio show. I know, 08' was amazing right?! Sure, my dating life didn't fare so well - but Kenny Loggins will succumb to my charms soon enough. Restraining orders be damned!!!

All in all 08' was a helluva year and I am hoping 09' will be as well. Because I have 3 years to become a totally un-lame, less nerdy person. And I am hoping I am off to a good start.

Now if you will excuse me, I need to queue up the dvd player. I've got to take my Buck Rogers dvd out before I can sit down for my sci fi binge.

Still Sickly After All These Years

I have a cold that just won't stop and a voice that has been gone since about 2am on Wednesday. Sure me screaming "Enter Sandman" at the top of my lungs during a rockband new years eve party while I had a nasty cold could have something to do with it. But why sweat the details? The fact remains that as of now I sound like Barry White with a cold. But it was worth it. Who would have thought that having a party where you played fake instruments until 3am could equal the best new years ever? So, I suppose this gruff man voice is a welcome side effect to rocking in the new year.

There are some downsides to this, however. Like the drive thru Starbucks in Carson that I enjoy frequenting so much has a very difficult time understanding my drink order. This has lead to some very unfortunate sips of beverage when one was expecting a regular latte and ends up with some sort of vanilla concoction. Blech. Also, the sense of humor doesn't translate when it sounds like a 90 year old male smoker is delivering the lines. Any my mother, God bless her, is convinced I am going to develop pneumonia and calls me every few hours for updates. And while I appreciate the concerns, chatting on the phone isn't helping my voice out much. I think it should be back in business by tomorrow. But Metallica solos might be on hold for the time being.

As of now, I am wallowing in my downtime. Tonight’s agenda includes a viewing of "Romancing The Stone" and "Season 3 of Battlestar". BOO YA!

Happy Thursday!

What better way to usher in the new year than to blare some "Oh Sherry" by one Mr. Steve Perry!

How Am I Just Finding Out About This?

Edgar Winter is albino?

Holy Shit.