There are so many levels as to why this is fucking hysterical- but if you don’t know them. . . just hearing the simple bit of Sarah Silverman sing about how she is fucking Matt Damon will be quite enough.
Brilliance.
Ms. Silverman is one of those women I love to be friends with but she would be way too smart and would probably embarrass me.
Yeah, yeah yeah.
I KNOW this hasn’t been the most interesting reading of late. But gather round the campfire tonight and I should have some amusing tales to to tell. Stories involving the meeting of random strangers.
There is something in the air recently and I have been forced into making nice with people I don’t know. There is something nice and yet somewhat annoying about that as I really don’t like people very much.
I’ll give you a teaser. One story will involve two Americans that Stuart met in the loo and kept trying to come back to our place.
He really needs to learn what that sounds like to people. . .
We are supposed to be leaving the house soonish to meet Jen and to do the pub quiz at the Frog and Forgetmenot. (yes- that is the name of the pub) We have yet to leave because Stuart is seeing the new toys coming from Mac at a Website covering Macworld.
He came in clapping his hands. “The Macbook air is so thin, it can fit in an a4 envelope.”
“Cool”
“Finally they stopped selling them with DVDs!”
“What if you want to watch a DVD?”
“It’s a dead format Thomas.” And then he said something about the information being transmitted wirelessly through the air or something or other but I was too busy playing with my abacus to pay attention.
“It’s better than sex.”
“Okay honey.”
Then, knowing that I was transcribing and blogging his mac orgasm and that his mate Rouven reads this said, “Oy! Rouven. How thick is your Macbook Pro? Bah-hah-hah-hah-ha.”
For those of you that read my mother’s comments on the last post, I’s got some s’plainen’ to-do.
First, for my friends that know me. . . you can see my tendency to forget to give context when telling an anecdote is clearly a genetic trait.
Second, my mother has always been incredibly supportive of me. This has been aided by the fact that I earned a high GPA in High School, graduated Undergrad in four years rather than the seven or never plan, went on to earn two Masters degrees, mostly paid her back money that I have borrowed, and never got knocked up or arrested. One of my old jokes about my mother– (which I have probably already used here. Sue me. You try writing one of these things for a few years and come up with new material every flippen day. It’s hard.) One of my old jokes is, if I told my mother I was thinking of becoming a prostitute, she would say, “Well, you go out there and be the best little crack whore that you can be.”
Third. What she going on about?
Alright. I think I have already talked about this (see above comment regarding recycled material).
I loved The Pink Panther movies as a kid and I adored the slap stick genius of Peter Sellers. I would pay homage to his comedy genius by painting on a fake mustache, putting on my mother’s trench coat and my father’s hat, pop into a closet and then spring out saying one of the lines from the movie in the best bad French accent my 11 year old self could do.
If I had been born ten years later they would have put me on medication.
I was quickly eyeballing my comments making sure there wasn’t a real comment stuck in the spam before I deleted them all when for .0008 of a second my heart jumped.
I had a comment from Bill Nighy.
I adore Bill Nighy. I saw him eating at Circus once and luckily I wasn’t drunk so I didn’t go to his table and tell him how much I love him. I am sad to say I haven’t seen him on stage yet. My love is from his performance as the washed up rock star in Love Actually: “Hiya kids. Here is an important message from your Uncle Bill. Don’t buy drugs. Become a pop star, and they give you them for free.” As well as some smaller indie films. (Rent I Capture The Castle today. Is a lovely adaptation of the Dodie Smith novel. Then go read the novel for 101 Dalmations which I remember loving when I was ten. Much better than Walt Disney.)
So an actor I adore has left a comment on my stupid little blog!
I looked closer.
Bill Nighy | wwedivasws@gmail.com | bill-nighy.info | IP: 64.22.107.90
Hi there…Man i love reading your blog, interesting posts ! it was a great Wednesday
It was spam. Bill Nighy spam.
I love Bill but I think this is even odder spam than the Best Cat Litter Boxes.
I have proof that the end of the world is neigh. Yesterday I went up north to introduce Paulo to the folks at the agency I used to manage. The weather in London was windy, rainy, grey and miserable. Up in Warrington a hop skip and a jump from Liverpool and Manchester the weather was bright blue warm skies.
The world is Topsy-Turvy! What happened to the grim north?
Was a really good meeting- they are all lovely people. Came back on the train to the wind and the rain and the grey and the miserable.
Met up with Al for a drink and we tried to go to the Mexican at the place that Jen reccommended but it was an hour wait so we went to another one up the road on Maiden Lane and had a few margaritas (for me) and mojitos (for al) and then moved on to The Coal Hole and kvetched until closing.
Today the weather is once again a big pile of doo-doo. I am very happy to be working at home huddled on the sofa, although I haven’t eaten yet today and there is no food in the house so I will need to wander out soon since it is nearly 3:30.
Four more days to Spain with Stuart and Ollie. Four days, four days. . .
I just saw a commercial for chocolate that I can’t decide is amusing or not. I’m leaning toward not.
It’s for a parody of the famous Russian roulette scenes from The Deer Hunter.
I don’t remember the name of the chocolate because I am rather certain that unless it caused spontaneous orgasm, I don’t want anything to do with it.
Doing a quick bit of research on a loan site that one of my loan sites is complaining about and I was looking around a bit at the architecture of the site. Under the dropdown for reasons for the loan, the user has the choice of:
Debt Consolidation- Fair enough. Good reason to do a loan. I’ve considered taking one out here so I can wipe out some of my US debt.
Home Improvement- Totally understandable. In addition to making things pretty, it adds to the value.
Car Finance- Yep. Nothing unusual here.
Cosmetic Surgery- Okay. . . I really don’t believe in cosmetic surgery. . . It’s easy for me to say I guess as I wasn’t cursed with a big honker. I must admit, in my weaker moments, I have thought about having a breast reduction and liposuctioning my ass. However, should I ever go down that road, I would save my pence and pay cash for my new tits. I certainly wouldn’t take out a flipping loan.
And last but not least. . . Holiday.
Holiday. Who the hell takes out a loan to go on holiday?
I’ve done some stupid things in my life with my finances such as selling stock that I should have held on to (1000 shares of Yahoo! at $7.80) and going shopping rather than paying things off, lending student loan cash to a boyfriend and just ignoring credit card bills until it gets boo scary and they start calling you at all hours threatening your life. I am a financial disaster area.
That said, I have never. Ever. Never ever. Ever never taken out a loan to go on holiday.
Stuart has given me the feedback that I have not been clear that I have returned to the Island of Shakespeare, The Beatles and inspiring Kate Moss fashions. (To be fair, it actually wasn’t clear, as Lille has pointed out.)
Stuart says hi, by the way. Yo to the Chief!
So yeah. I’m home.
In other news, we are having a little impromptu Eurovision song contest party tomorrow. (Anyone who reads this and knows me, you’re invited. Shoot me an e-mail or call me and I will give you directions.) We were going to go to Richard’s but he has flaked. *So much for German’s being prompt and dependable.
*Okay, that’s a joke. I’m sure that there are lots of Germans that sleep in and skive off from work and Eurovision song contest parties. I just feel the need to explain because, you know, German’s don’t have a sense of humour.**
(Richard, you know I love you.)
**Okay. True story and then I will stop. No! I haven’t been drinking. . .
I didn’t witness this, but I knew people that were in the class. . .So a film teacher at UNLV was showing the classic Billy Wilder Film Noir flick, Double Indemnity. It came out in the late 40’s I think. There is a scene where Fred MacMurry goes to a drive thru- the kind where there are waitresses on roller skates and they bring the food out to you. He orders a beer. Everyone laughed at the anachronism because now you can be arrested if you have an open container in your car. (That was fun trying to explain that to Stuart in the states. No honey. You can’t drink that beer. No honey, even if I am the one driving.)
Anyhoooo.
The class laughs.
The teacher (who to be fair, was Austrian, not German) said, “THAT VHAS NOT FUNNY! You can only laugh vhen it is FUNNY! I VHILL tell vhou vhen it is FUNNY!”
Which may be one of the funniest lines I have heard, in my life, ever. (Every woman adores a Fascist. . .)
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All words © Nicole Thomas unless otherwise credited.
Not that I think that anyone would be silly enough to steal my ramblings, but in case you may be thinking about it. . . the very act of my writing this means that I own the copyright. Really. Look it up.
So, please don't plagiarize. It just ain't cool. And what I say just isn't that interesting. Trust me. Most of my friends don't even read this.
That being said, I do subscribe to the T.S. Eliot philosophy of "Immature poets borrow, mature poets steal." There is a difference between Stealing and stealing. . . This is not to say that I am mature. If anything. . . I'm rambling aren't I? That's what I do. I ramble. So, yeah. I'll shut up now.
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