Problem is, so much of it sucks, as we all know. And while I wish someone would discover some dirty chapters that Ms. Austen failed to submit to her publishers (how delicious would THAT be?) I could be content with well-written ff. What will make me hit the back button faster than 5 Guys and 1 Tub (lol, that was one of the funnier things to come out of yesterday's post) is reading that Fitzwilliam Darcy UNZIPPED ELIZABETH FROM HER DRESS. Zipper?! Did she check facebook before retiring to her chambers as well? Did Mary spend her nights bemoaning her misfortune whilst running polyester through her Singer sewing machine? EGADS, PEOPLE. RESEARCH.
Also, one's clothes do not (nor did they ever) "flewn about." I'm no Shakespeare, shit, I'm no King, but FLEWN. That's like when my college roommate argued with me that "squozed" was SO an actual word. Head --> desk. (One of my favorite stupid people stories comes from my ex husband who asked me in all earnestness what language Frasier was speaking. As in the TV show Frasier. I'll leave you with that head scratcher.)
And on that note, I've spent far too much time yesterday and this morning reading through IDP manuals, checking up on road crew work, and memorizing the inventory at Talbots so this ridiculous little story I'm struggling with about Jason Stackhouse and Pam... Pam sounds right. Lol. Um, I'm on the far edge of the balance beam, clearly.
IN WOEBEGONE SPARKLE/TWILIGHT NEWS: I realized that my original plans to race out Friday morning to see the newest Twilight movie (FOR MOCKING PURPOSES ONLY, I've not lost my mind completely) isn't going to work as a) I'm hosting a shindig that night for upwards of 40 people and that requires cleaning, food prep, booze prep, etc. and b) I'm filming all day Saturday (whee, commercials are FUN and fast. I dig those.) and this all adds up to c) you won't get your dose of snark from me until Monday. I KNOW, I'M SAD ABOUT IT, TOO. I kinda need to go see it Friday morning, though, because that's when the craziest people go! Last time women were dressed up WITH PERFUME to see it, as if Edward Cullen was waiting for them in the lobby, just hoping to fall in love with a substitute teacher, or whatever. WOW. Good times were had by me loling over the Sparklepires and the women who love them.
I need to do a bunch of push ups and squats so I don't feel guilty about sitting on my ass all day writing. I'll get going on that aaaaaaany moment now. Any minute now.
OH WAIT, I REMEMBERED SOMETHING I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT. Who is watching Curb Your Enthusiasm? I don't know when I've laughed so hard as last Sunday's episode. Oh my god, "My daughter's got a rash on her pussy." The sincerity in which that line was delivered had me literally falling to my side, laughing. Then the continued joke about that word being acceptable in discussions about a 9 year old... "I think I got this rash from my special friend. She's 9 and has a rash on her pussy." "Call the police." Oh man. That's my sense of humor, right there. I love you Larry David. I can't wait for the finale next week. SO FUNNY.