Sometimes They Tie a Thief to the Tree

My Picks for The Current's "Top 89":

2009-12-07T18:43:31Z

Camera Obscura: "Honey in the Sun" (My Maudlin Career)
Death Cab For Cutie: Meet Me On The Equinox (Twilight 2 New Moon Soundtrack)
Depeche Mode: In Sympathy (Sounds Of The Universe)
Franz Ferdinand: Twilight Omens (Tonight: Franz Ferdinand)
Gossip: Heavy Cross (Music For Men)
Green Day: Peacemaker (21st Century Breakdown)
Imogen Heap: Tidal (Ellipse)
Mason Jennings: The Field (Blood of Man)
Solid Gold: Bible Thumper (Bodies Of Water)
Yeasayer: Ambling Alp (Odd Blood)

onanrulz @ 2009-11-23T09:34:00

2009-11-23T15:34:51Z

Okay, I just need to share the bizarre dream I had on Saturday night (yes, I had been drinking):

I'm in Baton Rouge, in my Grandpa's driveway. Across the street, my old roommate Lee is strapping a turbine-powered jetpack to his back, with his arms threaded through Da Vinci-esque wings. The turbine on his right wing suddenly overdrives, tearing his right arm out of the shoulder socket. He picks his arm up and gives it to me to carry to my car, and slightly panicked, we race to a hospital.

The problem is, I've forgotten how to navigate Baton Rouge, and I cannot get to the hospital. Or should I say the right hospital. Because in my dream we stop at three distinct hospitals, but he objects to each one in a picky fashion as he sits bleeding in my passenger seat. Nor do the doctors seem particularly concerned with his arm so much as they are with directing us to the correct hospital.

We never make it, as the dream ends with us lost somewhere on I-12.

Fringe Reviews, Days 9, 10 & 11: The Lightning Round!

2009-08-10T18:11:07Z

The Traveling Musicians: The Nomad was the perfect setting for this bawdy and hilarious rock show. The band successfully lampooned a variety of musical styles and musicians, my personal favorite song being the Doors/Jim Morrison pastiche. A great show to relax at and have a beer.

An Intimate Evening With Fotis Part III: With his strongest material yet, Mike Fotis regales his audience with stories of mundane tribulations, yet he weaves them together into hilarious epic tragedy. Jen Scott's accompaniment on upright bass compliments Fotis's self-described neurosis, hang-ups, and eventual triumphs.

Sarah, Your Ovaries Are Drying Up: The Musical: Skeptical of anything with the word "musical" in it's title, I cautiously approached this show, and was pleasantly surprised at the excellent quality in the script and the musical performances. Musicians Molly Dworsky and Nate Rowan provide an excellent thematic through-line the show, and the cast has fun with the witty script.

Citation Needed: A short-yet concise sketch show, Citation Needed playful abuses the ability to twist the facts of the popular online encyclopedia. The sketches never dragged due comediennes Lisa and Mary Kate's unflagging energy and enthusiasm.

Buyer's Remorse: Attention must be paid to Sam Landman and Ian Miller's conflicting yet complimenting performances, serving as foils to the ridiculous relationship of assassins Parker and "Man of Few Words" Johnson. That they feel sidelined as secondary characters to a less interesting A-story is my sole complaint with this show.

Two Bowls of Cereal and Some Bacon: Alternating between two biographical anecdotes, Mahmoud Hakima weaves a heartbreaking tale of domestic abuse and racism, and the way a child justifies them into what he perceives as normality. Hakima's tales evoke vivid detail and authenticity that easily transport the listener into the world of a seven-year-old-boy. MaryLynn Mennicke's sound design provides the perfect companions to Hakima's vignettes.

Punk Rock Omaha: Eschewing their long-form improv format for a remount of their 2002 Fringe hit, Ferrari McSpeedy challenges themselves to put on a show not for the audience but for themselves. They're not looking for a precise show so much as they looking to have fun trying to remember the lines and poking fun at their own material, and their frantic pace amuses the audience about as much as their script.

[Since I have never read Moby Dick, I recuse myself from reviewing Moby Dick Tonight. But it was weird.]

The Harty Boys in The Case of the Limping Platypus: Any show that successfully parodies boy adventure novels with the same quality of The Venture Bros. is a winner in my opinion. While opening relatively slowly, the show picks up frantically yet tightly as the Harty Boys happen upon the crime scene. The script wittily pokes fun at its genres conventions as well as skewers many of the Twin Cities' landmarks. The cast superbly relishes in the absurdity of their characters, and the two child actors in particular give outstanding performances.

The Morning After the Summer of Love: Scream Blue Murmur's exploration of the tumultuous issues surrounding the year 1968 and its repercussions forty years later provides the Irish poets with a broad range of emotions and imagery for poetic material. Their works, while powerful, never connected with me emotionally, though that may be due to my lack of connection to the era of the '60s. The grasp they had on the audience was unmistakable, though, as they are still master storytellers with distinct voices.

Axed! (The Rockstars' Remix): Three mesmerizing short stories from three mesmerizing storytellers. Rik Reppe, Courtney McLean, and Dave Mondy took turns telling one story each in a chapterized format that left me disappointed that I had to wait, yet reminded me that I needed to hear each of the next stories as well. The encore showing at the BLB, beer in my hand, was the perfect way to end the Fringe Festival.

Nude Fringe Review #6: Homina Homina Homina

2009-08-10T17:44:18Z

Blue Ribbon Burlesque: Timecodes from lights-down:

12:23 - Blue ribbons used as tassles!
26:06 - Pasties (in the form of leeches)!
36:40 - Pasties during a fan dance!
48:38 - Tassles, and a bikini-pasty-thingy!

Awesome.

Fringe Reviews, Day 8: "Prayer pimples for hairy fish nuts?"

2009-08-07T16:01:19Z

Comedy Go: Suggestion: Comedian

And I have thus seen every Ferrari McSpeedy improv set at this year's Fringe. A solid showing overall, but I can see the toll that four 45-minute longform sets has inflicted upon them. So on Sunday, Punk Rock Omaha, their first scripted Fringe show from 2002! I look forward to it.

Squawk: I have a soft spot for penguins thanks to Berke Breathed's creation, Opus from Bloom County and its spinoffs. Walking Shadow's creation, Lt. Andrew Falkland, won me over with amazing puppetry that gave him (yes, I know it's an inanimate object) a unique, lovable personality. I never questioned his interaction with his human counterparts, his determination, his motivation, and his integration into the much-touted "Post-Racial America."

The only qualm I have with the story is that it crams in too many social issues, when it would benefit a tighter plot by focusing on one. Squawk does juggle the ethical points it raises well, though, and I applaud it for adding intelligent discussion to the issue of race in America.

Fringe Reviews, Day 7: Improved Improv

2009-08-06T17:48:08Z

Comedy Go!: Suggestion: Famous Fruits.

The duo were joined by BNW colleague Lauren Anderson, who injected a frenzied energy into the set. While not as tightly plotted as the previous two sets, it remained strong, hilarious, and well-developed character-wise.

Tragedy of You: Joseph Scrimshaw works wonders with his scripted shows, so I was curious to check out his Mad Lib-esque Tragedy of You. While not as tightly constructed, his improvised drama entertained nonetheless.

Scrimshaw invites an audience volunteer to provide personal details about his/her life, and as they answer questions for his fill-in-the-blank whiteboard, Scrimshaw studies the mannerisms of his subject. When he's gotten all the details he needs, he begins a loosely described five-act Shakespearean tragedy, humorously skewering the Bard along with his audience volunteer. Don't expect iambic pentameter throughout, but do appreciate the jokes made of the literary devices. Dennis Curley accompanies Scrimshaw on the piano, providing amusing interludes between acts. And the inclusion of a bear was nice.

Nude Fringe Review #5: Man-Ass Done Right

2009-08-06T17:27:53Z

The Return of LICK!: Timecodes from lights-down:

41:24 - Bobby Gardner man-ass, Coppertone style!

I loved this show. The commitment to pelvic thrusting won-over my black heart.

A Very Special Fringe Review: The Nightmare Man

2009-08-04T18:22:30Z

To quote writer/director/misogynist/actor Tommy Wiseau, "Do you understand life?! Do you?!" With brazen confidence, writer/director/misogynist/actor Matt Kelly answers, "Yes, Tommy, I do. I do."

Like the auteur Wiseau, Matt Kelly's dream persona, referred to as "Killer," grapples with the she-demon haunting him. Yet in his film The Room, "Johnny," Mr. Wiseau's role, is crippled to inaction by the cheating machinations of fiancée Lisa, while Kelly's nightmare version of Killer (portrayed by Max Besner) proactively murders his true love Meghan, as well as every other female character in the production (all played with various accents by Katy McGrath), as they all represent her nature of betrayal due to their having of vaginae.

Despite their differences in methodology, their denouement remains similar: Johnny, too perfect and pure for this world, removes himself from it, while Killer, filled with peace of mind, concludes to remove everyone else. Killer, though, may have the edge on Johnny, as he has realized that women are for copulation, but murder is his one true lady.

Kelly's monologues, while brief and arresting, are saddled with in-between "Nightmare" segments acting out his murders, riddled with dialogue that sounds false compared to his tight solo scenes. Also perplexing are the costume designs for the "Nightmare" scenes, which evoke the character designs of Capcom's Super Street Fighter II: Turbo Edition.

The triumph of a film like The Room lies in its bizarre cultural impact and the invitation it gives the audience to freely laugh and cringe at a man's self-unrecognized flaw. The Nightmare Man succeeds in the latter, but in the ephemerality of the Fringe Festival it is doomed to be forgotten.

But not by me. Kudos.

Fringe Reviews, Day 5: At least I could drink at this venue.

2009-08-04T17:40:47Z

Full Frontal Improv: While actual quality improv at this year's Fringe plays with plenty of seats left to fill (*cough*Comedy Go!*cough*), bad improv like this show pack in the audience.

Swandive plays it safe, sticking to recognizable short-form games recognizable to anyone whose sole exposure to improv are a couple episodes of Whose Line is it Anyway?. Character work was rarely solid, chemistry was never sparked, and cheap laughs were quickly grabbed in favor of a more meaningful joke. When other long-running short-form venues like ComedySportz and Stevie Ray's perform better and cheaper, there's no reason to see this poorly rehearsed improv show.

Improv pro-tip for the actors: wear closed-toed shoes for your safety.

Drinking Stories: Comedienne Jen Zalaar excels as a monologist; she confidently delivers her scripted material, and her off-the-cuff stories share the same meticulous detail. Her series of stories are tied together by the motif of drinking, be it coffee, tea, water, or beer. Bring in a drink, as she'll be raising a glass in toast throughout her set.

Nude Fringe Review #4: Boobs, Glorious Boobs!

2009-08-04T14:11:05Z

Full Frontal: A Tale of Love & Lobotomies: Timecodes from lights-down:

1:35 - Boobs. Bouncing around as the actress ran across the stage.

And after the first three minutes you can leave, because this play is essentially One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest minus McMurphy.

Fringe Reviews, Day 4: Humo(u)r to Heartbreak

2009-08-03T15:56:14Z

Tales... of the Expected!: Like many children, I grew up to bedtime stories and parables; unlike some children, I was also raised to appreciate corny, cheeseball humor and irreverent parody. Tales reminded me of why I loved Fractured Fairy Tales: the dialogue was cheesy yet snappy and the humour was as socially scathing as it was self-deprecating.

Each performance showcases three of five tales "repurposed" Ari Hoptman. I was lucky to have caught the fantastic retellings of "Sleeping Beauty," "Jack & the Beanstalk," and my personal favorite, the classic fairy tale Das Boot (I'll leave you to figure out the wonderful pun, should you see the show).

I expect some people won't appreciate this show; I refer to those people, in a more polite fashion, as "joyless schmucks." The performers relished their roles, punctuated their punchlines, and sated the satirist-fanboy in me.

Comedy Go!: Suggestion: plumber.

Solid set, more playful and less narrative than the first one; a nice change in structure with some outlandish characters. A great set overall.

Also, fuck the Strib (and some reviewers): Bozic has never needed to be carried, and moments of silence ("dead spots," as referred to by some clueless reviewers) are not uncommon in long-form improv. Please watch something other than Whose Line is it Anyway reruns for a clue.

Comedy of Errors: I was initially skeptical of the gimmick "Shakespeare in the Parking Lot," and the performance felt rushed, yet both aspects gave the show a charming appeal.

Director Jason Ballweber successfully creates a "garbage-chic" atmosphere to match the Bedlam's parking lot, and makes excellent use of the challenging performance space. I didn't mind watching the cast trip over iambic pentameter at 80 kph, as they clearly conveyed the emotions of their roles in an over-the-top fashion befitting the show's set.

Sideway Stories from Wayside School: I probably owe Louis Sachar for the development of my sense of humor; I adored his Wayside series in middle school. Four Humours has done him justice with their stage version of his stories, reminding me about what I loved about the series: the wonderful absurdity of Sachar's universe.

The Humours' adaptation to the stage uses some inventive techniques to portray such oddities as Ms. Jewls' blackboard, talking pigtails, dead rats, the ethereal Miss Zarves, and students transmogrified into apples, and the adult cast made me quickly forget that they were adults; they portray the comically traumatized children of the 30th-floor classroom with juvenile frenzy.

This is one of the best kid shows of the year, if not the Fringe, serving justice to my fond memories of the series.

June of Arc: From the bowels of the Rarig, Sandbox Theatre presents a show equally beautiful and painful.

Heather Stone captures the transfiguration of June Cleaver's icon/cypher of 1950's maternity into a real woman, teeming with frustration, dreams deferred. It's heartbreaking to watch her veneer crack further after each commercial break, commercial breaks that only illustrate the forced fabrication of a time in American history that never existed. Her chains, pearls they may be, are no less dehumanizing.

Nude Fringe Review #3: One-Hundred Minutes of Clothed Torture

2009-08-02T05:04:02Z

Storm Still: There was no instance of nudity in the one-hundred-plus minutes of this "play."

It was also awful, and abject torture to sit through.

Nude Fringe Review #2: The Problem of Watching Nudity on a Powerpoint Slide

2009-08-02T02:20:00Z

The Problem of the Body: Why is our society ashamed of bodily urges?: Timecodes from lights-down:

00:43 - Nude images presented in a slideshow, including artwork, photography, pornography, and paparazzi-shots of certain celebrities.

A lack of live nudity was sorely disappointing. The lecture was fascinating, though. I enjoyed this show.

Fringe Reviews, Day 2 & 3: Hogg-warts

2009-08-02T02:11:04Z

Parry Hotter and the Half-Drunk Twins: When reviewing Bard Fiction, I pondered what the experience would be like watching a parody of a show without prior experience of the source material. I was able to test the theory, though, as I have never read any of J. K. Rowling's signature series, and I have only seen the first three movies.

Tom Reed doesn't let familiarity hinder his show, though. Pop culture prepared me enough for the cursory level of Harry Potter knowledge I needed to follow the series' plot, and perhaps the lack of fondness for her novels allowed me to enjoy Reed as he highlighted the plot holes and thinly-veiled morality lessons/religion-building.

Cherry Cherry Lemon: Someone should tally the percentage of Fringe shows devoted to sex; I imagine they make up a sizable chunk of the Festival's subject matter (aside from musicals, perhaps). Most are rote sketch-comedy shows that use sex to shock, yet say nothing of gender politics or the act itself. Cherry Cherry Lemon, by contrast, creates an air of honest discussion by laughing at sex, not as a punchline, but as an undeniable urge of human nature.

Keira McDonald and Meghan Hill introduce two characters who appear as little more than the cliché female roles prevalent in so many sex-themed comedies, yet patience reveals deeper levels of complexity. And while the ending remains unsatisfying, it's clear that these women have traveled their full developmental arcs.

Hogg and the Humours: I always look forward to what the Four Humours boys bring to Fringe, and this year they've brought a sideshow distraction that was hectic, chaotic, novel, and engaging.

Following the mold of a late-night variety show, Jimmy Hogg hosts an interview show with the Humours as his "house band," performing improv in between interviews and musical guests.

I loved how natural this idea felt; sure, it seems a bit commercial, interviewing actors, directors, and musicians from other Fringe Shows (in my case, Mike Fotis, who stuck around for the improv set), but good, honest variety show is appreciated by me.

Nude Fringe Review #1: Unwanted, Unneeded, Undesirable

2009-08-01T00:09:26Z

Wants, Needs, Desires: Timecodes from lights-down:

25:57 - Copious man-ass and package stuffed into briefs.
51:21 - Man-ass reprise.

It was a pretty boring sit-through, and I wasn't exactly titillated. Your mileage (probably due to sexual orientation) may vary.

Fringe Reviews, Day 1: Four Shows, Little Disappointment

2009-07-31T18:03:06Z

Comedy Go!: Suggestion: Balloon.

They've promised a new show for every performance, and someone has to keep them honest, so I vowed to attend every showing of Comedy Go!

Ferrari McSpeedy make themselves comfortable in the Rarig Thrust, a space not dissimilar from their usual haunt of the Brave New Workshop, and while a 45 to 50-minute set is a longer stretch than they're normally used to, they used it to delve further into their characters, and bring together a cohesive universe for their scenework. The duo used their shared universe to make an honest connection between friends, fathers and sons, and the last scene was an emotional payoff.

I'm holding them to this "new show" idea, but I'd love to see some of the characters & themes pop back up over the next two weeks.

Monster: In my four-year Fringe experience, I've noticed that the one-man, multi-character drama tends to be the more successful format; perhaps the brief run times are more tailored to the format. Daniel MacIvor's Monster follows suit, cramming an erratic and enjoyable experience into its given slot.

The grisley subject matter of murder/dismemberment draws curiosity to the show, but actor Chris Kehoe's charisma drives the experience. He exudes a Bruce-Campbell-for-the-stage attitude as overconfident-yet-tense narrater Adam, but has no problem shifting into the distinct characters that color the story's moebius-strip plot.

This is a play that always asks why, and it's refreshing to get an unexpected response.

Bard Fiction: I've wondered how enjoyable some of the more reference-heavy shows are to those unfamiliar. It's been four or five years since I last saw Pulp Fiction, and I wasn't sure if I needed a brush-up on the film to enjoy performance. But it seems that the writers hit the major touchstones of the film, many of which are culturally ubiquitous and recognizable to even those who have not seen Tarantino's original.

I was amazed at the seamless transition of handgun to dagger, cocaine to snuff, "Bad Mother****er" to "Blasted Oedipus." The use of iambic pentameter and an Elizabethan-influenced dialect retained the spirit of the dialogue while remaining easy to follow. Standout performer Clarence Wethern, taking the classic roles of Samuel L. Jackson's "Julius" and Christopher Walken's "Koons," avoids the trap of turning two well-known roles from two oft-parodied actors into caricatures, retaining the essence of the characters.

This is a play for lovers of Shakespeare who want a good laugh at the Bard. This is a play for anyone who has ever seen Pulp Fiction, regardless of how they feel about the movie or Quentin Tarantino in general. And for those who have never seen the film, what a great way to test how ingrained into our culture the movie has become. This is a Fringe stand-out.

Livelihood: Livelihood feels much like a sketch comedy piece, with elements borrowed from Monty Python, Kids in the Hall, and Mr. Show. What benefited those troupes was the ability to tell such a story in four minutes; Livelihood suffers when stretched to 50.

The story of a job interview gone awry fits right into the Kids in the Hall-world of "Danny" and "A T & Love," and the rising absurdity of the interviewer's demands cleverly borrows from Monty Python sketches such as "Dead Parrot," "Argument Clinic," and "Cheese Shop," waiting for the payoff taxes the patience.

It's a dark show with witty dialogue (Matt Greseth relishes in the insanity of hiring manager "Mike"), and I love this setup, but the climax feels forced, and a touch predictable. For social satire, it never delivers a clear, original message on the discussion of the failing U.S. economy, save that perhaps nihilistic abandonment is the only option.

onanrulz @ 2009-07-13T13:18:00

2009-07-13T18:20:55Z

Same as last year, I will review every show I see at the Minnesota Fringe this year, but I will only post them to my LJ, with links to it from my Twitter updates. I have sent out the warning on Facebook and Twitter, and I will repeat it here: if you do not want me to see your show, tell me now.

Meme brazenly stolen from carinbrat! News at 10!

2009-07-13T18:08:27Z

Reply to this meme by yelling "Words!" and I will give you five words that remind me of you. Then post them in your LJ and explain what they mean to you. (Please note: If you simply wish to comment on something I've said but don't want to participate in the meme, that is fine. I will only give you five words if you specifically comment with "Words!") [You can feel free to try; I may or may not respond depending on familiarity with you/capricious whim.]

These five answers provided by carinbrat:

Improv: I owe the Art of Improvisation (since there isn't a corresponding Muse. Or is there? Someone correct me.) an extended penance for the shitty short-form we did in college. We broke every rule because we didn't know no better, and though it should have been an Edmund Fitzgerald-class wreck, we somehow garnered enough of a following to justify a weekly show. Regardless, I was done with improv after college. Then I moved to MPLS, fell back into improv through ComedySportz and the BNW, and decided to learn all I should have learned. Improv community, if you believe that I am destroying you with my presence, you have no one else to blame for my renewed interest but the biscuitpig.
Anime: Some lonely, despondent teenagers seek refuge in fantasy literature, Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, or sci-fi movies and TV. I happened to discover anime. I may have had a predisposition from childhood due to Voltron, but when I saw Akira, Vampire Hunter D, Ninja Scroll and Robot Carnival in high school, I had never seen anything so foreign, yet stunning and arresting. I had never seen stories told like this. Gundam Wing turned me into a giant-robot fan , as well as a collector. Since 2000, I have bought one anime DVD per month, give-or-take. My brother Benjamin and I watched a lot of anime together, thanks to Cartoon Network's "Toonami" and "[adult swim]" programming blocks, but when I moved, I had no one in the cities to talk anime with. So I'm rectifying the situation by making bupwethern watch some series and movies I think he'd enjoy. We've finished Death Note, and now we're on Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex. I'd never make him watch anything like the nostalgia-brand Gundam series, or anything fan-servicey like Code Geass or Tenchi Muyo!, but I would like to show him Cowboy Bebop, Moribito, and maybe, maaaaaybe Outlaw Star.
Crawfish: Those close to me know my crippling fear of any animal below the taxonomical class of Avian, yet I find nothing unappealing about boiling crawfish alive and savagely tearing them apart for their meat, as well as sucking the juices from their heads. If there's two things about eating crawfish that I repeat ad nauseam, it's 1) look for the ones with big claws for their delicious, delicious claw meat, and 2) always remove the "Hershey highway."
Beer: I used to make fun of zmftimelord for being a "beer snob" when we were in college; he constantly expounded upon the beauty of craft beer, while I drank pitcher after pitcher of Miller High Life (Da Champagne of Beers, brah.) and threw the fact in his face. I'm not ashamed of that; you're supposed to drink terrible, cheap beer in college. Since graduating, I have evolved, and believe that I can rightly be a beer snob among my peers. My taste buds must have evolved, too. I remember hating the taste of dark beer in college, yet now I am drawn to stouts and porters. Abita Turbodog still remains my top beer choice.

Hackfic: This would be in reference to my alter-ego, fictionhack. I have neglected the project for a few months sadly, but I need to recharge my juices for upcoming ideas, so I need to put in another chapter or two. I started the project with one goal in mind: to create the worst thriller imaginable, to parody "authors" like Dan Brown, James Patterson, Patricia Cornwell, et al. I settled on the genre of "Medical Mystery," recalling how my mother burned through the library of Robin Cook, and combined it with my love of TV procedurals. I refuse to do anything more than a cursory amount of research about medicine, anatomy, the city of Los Angeles, etc., because the more uninformed and artificial it reads, the closer I reach my goal of emptying my creativity of cultural garbage.

And people wonder why I left Tangipahoa Parish.

2009-06-03T16:11:25Z

Monday evening, I noticed four text messages I received from a number I did not recognize with a 985-area code:

Hey babe

Heyy mehh foxyy ladyy

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Heyyy babee

Yes, I was a victim of sexy wrong-number texting.

Assuming the problem would resolve itself, I ignored them. I've fielded a few wrong-number calls on my phone since I moved to the MPLS, and I figured that this guy would realize his mistake when he sobered up on Tuesday.

I was wrong.

At 7:14 a.m. on Tuesday, I received yet another text from the same number:

Good luckk... This morning with ur dance practice

And again, during Six-Ring Circus rehearsal that night:

Heyy babee

Heyy mehh sexyy foxxyy ladiee

Heyy mehh sexyy foxxyy ladiee

Heyyyy

Annoyed, I showed the texts to my old improv coach, tech guru Chuck, after the show, complaining that I would have to block the number. He chided me, pointing out a potentially-missed opportunity to fuck with the life of a total stranger.

I met up with bupwethern and carinbrat at Green Mill, explained the situation, and unfolded our revenge plot. It started with a text from me:

Hey cutie I missed ya

When we didn't get a response forty-five minutes later, I sent another message:

Y r u ignring me

Immediately:

What u mean dis is bailey rite

Oh, it was on.

U kno who it is dont fuk wit me... I m wet

Who

At this point, I handed the phone off to bupwethern, who took his time carefully crafting the appropriate response:

U been txting me. I thought youd wanna hear about my dance practice. Ill dace 4 U";)

What ur name and i memt to send that 2 my gf my bad

Well, the jig was up. The honorable thing to do was confess:

You have been erroneously texting me for the past 48 hours. I do hope you resolve the matter with your "hot snatch." Best of luck with the poontang, dear sir.
Best regards, Tyrone Bibbins, Esq.

I haven't received a text from him since.

I had imagined a scenario, though, where I would read a story on nola.com about a young woman tragically murdered by her boyfriend, the circumstances stemming from a misunderstanding over text messages. And then, because there's something wrong with me, I imagined this:

On the season premier of Law & Order: SVU, a brutal murder, ripped from the headlines!

"What kind of monster would do this, Elliott?"

"This was about text messages, Liv!"

"You don't understand, detective! She told me she was wet!"

And you won't believe where the investigation leads them!

Duhn duhn!

Writer's Block: Heavenly Bodies

2009-04-08T19:32:54Z

If you discovered a new planet, what would you name it?

Submitted By thethicket

View 505 Answers

Whites Only.

"Broke into the old apartment..."

2009-04-06T01:52:04Z

NEW PLACE! Here's some pics:

Here's the foyer. Bedroom's through the door on the right, and the living room's to the left.

Another angle of the foyer. The door with the mirror leads to a closet.

Shot from the bedroom at the same closet door mentioned above. On the right is the bedroom closet. The bathroom is on the other side of the left wall.

The bedroom window.

Another shot into the foyer, this time from the living room.

Here's the dining room. The closet on the right conceals an ironing board.

The kitchen. It reminds me of my kitchen back on Cate St. in Hammond.

The kitchen sink.

Stove and fridge.

The dining room, shot from the living room. My computer desk will probably go in that lower right corner.

The living room. The previous tenant left me the couch and the small table behind it. She also left me a 13" TV.

And in this closet in the living room is a murphy bed!

Here it is.

And a full shot of the living room taken from the dining room. The murphy bed will be up unless I have guests.

carinbrat has offered her decorating advice/services at my request, because a colorblind guy really needs a second opinion.

So anyone who wants to visit (*cough daybreaker cough*), I got a place you can stay.

onanrulz @ 2009-01-20T09:36:00

2009-01-20T15:43:27Z

The master plan, of course, is to enter both Chrysler Building and Thunderclown in the New Orleans Improv Fest. I can spread everyone throughout Mandeville; some people can crash at the house, and I can cajole Uncle Steve & Aunt Meera and Auntie & Deann (both couples live next door to each other!) to take some folks. Maybe Andrew can host, if necessary (which is where I would stay).

There should be a Project: Improv reunion thrown in there somewhere, too.

"Everything right is wrong again..."

2008-12-31T16:05:55Z

There is a very small man on LiveJournal. I assume it's a man due to his idosyncratic, sociopathic behavior. I also assume he derives an ego boost from the superiority complex of lording "perfection" over his subjects.

Yes, I'm a stickler for grammar, spelling, and punctuation. Yes, I'm an idiosyncratic sociopath. But this gentleman has crossed a line of manners and respect I normally reserve.

As such, I am in the process of misspelling every interest under my bio. Join me, won't you?

This is what I got my parents for Christmas:

2008-12-22T20:24:28Z

Softening the blow.

2008-12-18T18:29:05Z

Treats and goodies are all over the office!

We're playing fun games to induce productivity!

January has been declared Casual Month!

Just ignore those murmurs of 10% workforce layoffs in every department for Q1 of 2009!