In My Dreams

Sometimes, while I'm falling asleep or have woken in the night, I have an idea that's worth writing down; something I don't want to forget. So, mornings following these occurrences, I take a look to be reminded exactly what I was thinking. Usually, I can explain my reasons for writing what appears, but, after attempts to decipher the following scribble, I wasn't any closer to understanding myself (but I did manage to question my sanity):

Courtney Cox and John Edwards are to get married. CC hits him with her car on purpose after she finds out he's gay, but doesn't want to call off the wedding. His sister, however, saw it all happen, and JE said (right before he died) that both he and CC looked into the other's eyes "and yet she never slowed the car."

Also, JE was secretly cross-dressing at work.

The rest of the film, CC tries to prove she didn't do it on purpose, and proceeds to concoct a never-ending lie. Things get complicatedly funny; it's a dark comedy. Co-starring Queen Latifah.

For reals.

Everything Coworker Said, Written Down

On November 28, 2007, I wrote down everything interesting a coworker on the otherside of the cubicle wall said. (That was a long sentence.)

Here are the best random soundbites, in no order:

• Hey Fabio, Tony said, “I’m not going to read this crap!” I’m going to reply, “Whatever dude.”
• Why is this not working? (said to computer)
• They only have king, queen and CA king. Hope you’re having a good day. Stay warm. Love you. Bye.
• Thanks Jo-Jo, I agree…I’m a “putter.”
• Peanut Butter Jelly time!
• I’m a putter. Did you read it? I was thinking, “If he didn’t read that, he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.”
• You’re a big green blur.
• Me and Sue went out dressed like cougars. I had bought a leopard print shirt, so people kept calling me cougar.
• Alright everyone, I’m going to workout.
• We gotta make it easy, Julia. We don’t like difficulty in life; we don’t like grumpy people on our bus.
• Sweet! Sweet! Is it wacky?
• Meeeee! I’m dancing and I need a partner. We’re taking interviews.
• Hmmm. Do I want the chicken, or the seared Alaskan Halibut?
• So we would pick his nose, like stick the cursor in his nose, scratching his head, putting stuff in his eye… I’m a happy little farm boy from Iowa and I’m just here to help.
• Hey! Woo Hoo! Hi… I’m gonna rub my head, we’re giving you a neck rub. We’re tickling your ear, can you feel it? I’m rubbing your temples, can you feel it? Look I can rub your eye, look I’m sticking my finger in your eye, does it hurt? We love you bye.
• “I know exactly what you’re doing to me” I’m playing with your nose.
• Hey Johnny, tell him you’re tickling his ears. You’re silly.
• I’m going to go pick up my pants.

So yeah, I've heard even stranger things muttered. Hilarious.

How to Review Movies, Paul Degarabedian-style

I was reading a review of Knocked Up, and I came across this:

"It looks like a lot of people wanted to get knocked up this weekend," said Paul Dergarabedian, president of box-office tracker Media By Numbers.

I wonder how hard a schedule Mr. Dergarabedian keeps; that was the laziest summation ever. It mentioned the title of the film, but not as the title. BRILLIANT.

The lack of thought being practiced made me sick. And it made me angry. It reminded me of Marmaduke; a comic strip that has been called "cancer and madness."

So I thought I would take the easy way out (obvs), and write my own reviews (Dargarbeidiadna-style):

"The weekend was spent waiting for the terminator to arrive."
"This movie took an easy ride to number one."
"Audiences were looking to do some dirty dancing at the box office."
"People lined up to board the 3:10 to Yuma."
"Whenever Batman begins to show his face, it gets scary!"

Try creating your own, and leave them in the comments. I wanted to write more, but had to stop because, while I couldn't tell if they were funny, I could tell I wanted to hurt myself.

My Friend Thinks I Can Beat Up Shaq

My iChat camera "magically" started working again (thank you, auto security-updates). Does anyone else get freaked out when machines fix themselves?

Imagine waking up, and not being able to see (in this case, the computer cannot display video), and, instead of asking for assistance, you determine how to optically enable yourself. Cyborg shit!

###

I fired up the video-chat feature, and began "cyber-hanging" with my cyber-buddy, Dave. We were cyber-talking about how large athletes have gotten, and how neither of us could survive a fight with assorted, named professionals.

All of a sudden, he tells me he thinks I can "beat up Shaq." What? Seriously? That guy is 13 inches taller, and outweighs me by 135 lbs. So, basically, he's the size of two people melted into one giant, singularly-coordinated individual, who dunks basketballs for money, and loves hoop earrings.

I asked Dave for reasons why I would win in a fight versus Shaquille O'Neal. Here they are:

1. He raps, but "not really."
2. He drives a red Chevy Tahoe. (I asked him for proof, and he stated he helped load Shaq's newly-purchased drumset from Guitar Center.)
3. "He has soft hands."
4. Shaq has bodyguards that accompanied him to Guitar Center.
5. He's "strong and large." Dave then tried to explain why that would be bad for Shaq when going against:
6. My "quick karate." Yes, though he seemingly ignored the duration (10 months) and discipline (tae kwan do) of my martial arts training, Dave felt it was enough to take down an NBA veteran who plays "cop" for fun.