A kindred fatty spirit

As he took his seat at the panel and noticed a handful of Hershey Kisses: “Chocolate, huh? They know how to attract a fat man — put some fucking chocolate on his seat.”



Guillermo del Toro, my future husband.

Today two children saw my vagina.

Now you might think that this either was an innocent accidental flashing in a changing room or locker room, but no. This story will test the bounds of your imagination.

It was a day like any other day. I had an OB/GYN appointment. They keep me waiting for almost 2 hours in typical fashion. When the nurse finally takes me to her station and does the old blood pressure, scale (this is a REALLY heavy sweater....) routine and she says "The doctor has some students with him today. Is it alright if they are in the room for the exam?"

I say fine, who cares.

So I get into the exam room, have my exam wardrobe (aka 2 toilet seat covers strategically placed) on and I wait for the doctor.

Knock Knock!

Doctor walks in, hi how are you...

and what follows

are a 13 year old red head girl and a 10 yr old Asian girl with braces.

It should also be noted that my legs were in the stirrups all ready to go and when the doc walked in he was like oh sorry and pulls out an extension on the exam table so I can rest my legs.

At this point, I am very confused as to why there are children and I also feel slightly perverted because of the whole "already having my legs in stirrups" thing.

OK, I calm down and think okay maybe they aren't going to get up close and personal with me.

Doc goes to do the breast exam and I am like

"Okay this is happening"

Boobs out. Oh, it was happening.

Fine, boobs no big deal. Even though Doc referred to a self breast exam technique as "mowing the lawn"

It's time now for the serious business.

I figure the kids will move or leave or SOMETHING since they are standing just over the shoulder AKA Mezzanine seats to my lady show.

They. don't. leave.

I literally start laughing as he starts the exam. My arms are covering my face and no words can describe what I was thinking aside from the words "Larry David doesn't have a vagina"

The exam went as usual and I sit up after its done and answer a few final questions.

The Doctor says thank you and turns to go, then the girls look alternately at me and at the floor and say "Thank you"

CHILDREN.

SAW.

MY.

COOTER.

In times of yore, I would have said "Is Dom Deloise hiding in a bush somewhere?" but now I think it would change to "Is Ryan Seacrest hiding in a closet somewhere?" and honestly I really don't want Seacrest to jump out at me ever, so I'll just leave this latest chapter in the Mortification Files as it is.

Thank you and I, as always, am Judge Reinhold.

Notes from the Brain of Erin M.

Why can't I apply blush correctly in more than one way?

I have the "natural in soft lighting" look down (mostly terrifying in daylight or flourescents...and who INVENTED THOSE? people who wanted to raise the suicide rate? I can't even sum up how I look like the plumper version of I lose ME to METH).

I try to get the look with the flushed cheeks like....

and I typically get......

And then she died of SUPERAIDS (a new feature?)

So like the crackie deadbead dad you never had (or did...sorry?) I keep making promises and breaking them. I cannot change that it is in my nature. But I will keep "trying" to "try" aka I think I have discovered something that is fool/Erin proof.


Movie reviews?

I see enough of them (more than enough...I am the Cable Guy but more of a downer?)that it can provide structure for my posts. If I feel like going off topic....haven't you read any of the other posts...that's never an issue)


Ok so off we launch into the fucking Horizon man (soundtrack is 30 Seconds From Mars "Kings and Queens"...don't you say anything, it's epic sounding enough for the Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hooule trailer...good enough for me)


So I saw this movie called The Informers

It's a Bret Easton Ellis novel so that should color the whole discussion.


Bret Easton Ellis also went to my FINE ACADEMIC ACADEMY, The Buckley School but to those not included in the LA Private School circle of life, he is best known as the author of such book to film translations as American Psycho, Less Than Zero, The Rules of Attraction and probably some other shit that is a watered down combination of the above 3 films (one of which is already a watered down version of the two..copies of copies his name was Robert Paulson etc)

It should be shared that a boozy Irish (redundant but why not)_teacher I had told me that the cool elusive world of the extremely privileged and terminally bored youth of LA Private School (or whatever but private school was definitely involved) was essentially an invention on his part. He was a dork and saw the cool kids play and basically fantasized about it. The boozy Irish take on Ellis was that he was a dork who wanted to play with THE BIG DOGS and never could.

So when I see his movies (Buffy I am so rich, lets do cocaine and have a threesome because I am so tired of the modern cosmopolitan ennui that I suffer, so on and so forth)I look at them with an eye roll because not only are they just genuinely shitty movies (bar like 2 of them) but the message the lifestyle the whatever he is selling is nothing short of Grandpa Bunion's Miracle Tonic.

Shit.

But on to this particular turd as it were.

The Informers

Plot: Kids are rich in a non collegiate setting late 80's LA. Lots of drugs, promiscuity etc. I didn't really pay attention beyond that.

It was Renfro's last movie, if that matters to you, but most likely if you have heard of this movie its a) the movie where Amber Heard shows off her boobies a lot (I like lookin at em, we all like lookin at em-bonus points to...) and b) where Kim Basinger's career went to die. (say what you will about the rudelittlepiggate, at least Alec is on a critically adored TV show)

The characters are useless, the dialogue is hilariously simplistic (some conversation to the tune of "but how do we know when things are bad for you" "because they are bad" it might have been worse but c'mon use your imagination)

The lowest common denominator of 80's movies is "hey at least the fashion/soundtrack are diverting"

True here as well.

But let's get to the one (well 2 i guess...boobies) reason I actually have thought about this movie at all.

SUPERAIDS

I wish I could give the film credit for being quite so good as a SciFi (sorry SyFy...how are you enjoying that copyright boys?) movie.

Moral neutrality or absence leads to bad things okay (except american psycho where SPOILER he totally gets away with it? Dude even American Psycho 2's mila kunis had her comeuppance.) Amber Heard is a dumb whore who fucks random dudes and does a butt-ton of drugs. This will not end well for her.

Our lead character (do NOT ask me to point this dude out of a line up Sienna Miller Syndrome sufferer to the max) gets a call from some Rockstar's wife. Hey your girlfriend is here and she is sick and wont see a doctor.

Okay our "protag" heads to the beach where the rockstar wife is like she wont see a doctor (yeah we got that)

He heads out onto a cloudy beach, long past summer season (PERHAPS A METAPHOR FOR LIFE??)

Amber Heard is the only person on the whole beach. Her towel perfectly placed on the sand not a wrinkle to be seen.



BUT THIS BITCH IS FUCKING PURPLE.

They have a whole conversation like
dude:hey come on in let me take you to a doctor
Amber Heard: No im tanning i love the sun
dude: there's no more sun
Amber Heard: I am tanning

But really she is bright Barney purple. Like the hottie corpse cut in half when Beetlejuice is in the Afterlife waiting room? No? Buller?

And there isn't anything before or after to explain exactly what she is dying of (i mean she's dying right?) But she is fucking purple.

The moral of most of those era stories is like you can party but don't party too hardy or you get AIDS (Reality Bites much?)

Sadly I don't really know how to screen cap and I cannot find any pictures online.

But sufficed to say....she totally died of SUPERAIDS. It was what I thought and then roared with laughter at when I found out that when he walks away from her (and her SUPERAIDS...WHICH HE PROBABLY HE HAS AND MAYBE YOU SHOULD GET YOURSELF TESTED WASNT ONE OF HER FINAL WORDS OF ADVICE BUT MAYBE IF YOU FUCK A CHICK THAT TURNED PURPLE...YOU MIGHT WANT TO GET CHECKED OUT ANYWAYS)....

and THAT'S the end of the movie.

It was like the cool kids in high school (probably your school the cool kids were mostly smart at my high school and never will I understand or possess their ability to hit a rave till 4 am then still mop the floor (academically) with me the putz who was just going to church camp and hoping for the best) decided to be really HEAVY about how their lives are hard but were but got bored halfway through and at p 20 just decided to add random threesomes and rock star scenes for filler.

That's it.

I will continue to Netflix his films because things happen then they end and well boobies.


Sadly no Van Der Beek in this installment.


Going back to reading footloose meets the lake house meets nurse betty set in morocco.



That's all hope this happens again. Or I could be like that guy who you see out and you're like oh my god we should hang out like everyday i missed you so much then he turns around and you a) go who the fuck was that or b) roll your eyes thus ASSAULTING them with your devil may care attitude.


Until next time, I am Vincent Price

Feelings...ew

So I feel as though the path that has led me to my current life location has put me in quite a predicament.

I feel like Mariah Carey.


Wait....come back.


I am specifically referencing her racial background.

No don't call Sharpton. Nothing good can come of that.


She always said that being half black half white, she wasn't ever enough of either to really fit into either world.

While my whiteness is certainly undeniable, I would argue that it is having one foot firmly planted in the bizarre and one in the supremely mass consumption world of normal.


I am not weird enough to really hang with the unrepentantly weird. I like eurotrash music and britney spears and god help me because I don't go out of the house looking like death warmed over. I like to look cute, so fucking sue me mkay?


I can't hang with normal people since they immediately label me as cool (sometimes "too cool" which does give me a good laugh because I always thought I was a certain kind of cool but I figured that was like the homeless guy on the corner screaming at the Cheese King or whatever....that it was really my definition alone and that I was comfortable with that)

I really enjoy weirdness but the sorority thing coupled with the kind of family I came from (elegant and mature obviously) that basically keep me and my sensibilities firmly in the "I enjoy grooming and find no shame in over produced music" crowd.


It is a life I don't know that leads to anything aside from the creation of a unique one man path.


Sounds great. trail blazing sure I guess but ultimately I think I alienate both sides.


I have just decided (again) to you know "I gotta be me" thing and just count down the days till I am famous.


That's what this generation has become.

I am an iconoclast waiting for the icon bit.



Thank you that is all.