La Croix, sweetie, La Croix!

Ok, so this is far from a certainty, but I'm opting to get really excited now even though it may mean being horribly disappointed later : AbFab may come back! 

Jennifer Saunders isn't currently working, because she's in treatment for breast cancer, but it seems like she's been kicking the idea around with Joanna Lumley. BUT she's not making any statements about it at this point (which is understandable- she got bigger things to deal with), so she may never opt to advance it past the "kicking the idea around" stage. Plus, who knows if June Whitfield, Julia Sawalha and Jane Horrocks would necessarily be interested in coming back.

But who needs a measured and reasonable perspective on the situation? AbFab may come back!


While we're on the subject of fashion comedies, on this week's ANTM Tyra (who is basically a parody of a parody of a parody of herself at this point) aired her directorial debut. And it is...so many things. Mostly it's like a really bad student-level art film. But there's a wonderful segment around the 1:15 mark where Tyra seemed to ask herself "What if that girl from The Ring had been FIERCE and SMIZED?"

It's one of my new favorite things.

Best thing ever

I haven't seen The Social Network yet. I know I need to, but on the weekends I always go back and forth between absurdly busy and embarrassingly lazy.

But that's not the point. The point is that apparently, the guy who plays the Winklevoss twins is named "Armie Hammer." Armie Hammer. When I read that, I thought "No way," because that has to be a typo, right? Or a stage name like "Ethan Tremblay"?

So I wikipediaed him (is there a good way to past tense "Wikipedia" as a verb?), and his real name isn't Armie.

It's Armand.

Armand.

Armand Hammer.

HIS NAME IS ARM AND HAMMER. That is AMAZING. It's like that time that Bart prank called Moe's and there was an actual guy there named "Hugh Jass."

It's like the example line on a form. It would say, Mr. Armand Hammer of 12301 Deodorizer Way, Anytown USA.

It is one of the most awesome names I've ever heard. I sit in awe of it.


Though I bet, when he was a kid, his parents would say thing like "with a name like Armand Hammer, you think your room would be a little cleaner." And then they'd laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

That probably got old fast.

Fear and logic don't really mix

I've been meaning to talk about The Walking Dead. Mostly to say that it's a really good show.

Well. Point of clarification: the pilot is fantastic. Apparently the second episode is as well, but since I haven't yet watched it (and may not ever), I wouldn't really know.

You see, me and horror? Not so much. My husband and horror movies/books/shows are BFFs who would gladly wile away a weekend French braiding each others entrails, but I just can't handle it. But I watched the pilot for The Walking Dead, because I read the comic and - as my husband repeatedly pointed out - it's more character-driven than scare-driven. So I watched it. And here's the thing about a character driven zombie story: instead of sudden moments that make you scream, you instead have sort of a looming sense of panic and danger that just never goes away.

But I made it through, even in spite of some very realistic-looking zombies. I was super proud of myself. Until after the show was over. Because it was then that, walking by the bathroom,  I saw that the shower curtain was pulled shut.

I looked at it and thought to myself "I'd better pull that curtain back, so I can make sure that a zombie didn't come up the drain."

And then I thought about the fact that for that to be possible:
1) Zombies would have to BE AN ACTUAL THING.
and
2) A full-sized (albeit slightly decomposed) human being would have to be able to fit through our bathtub drain.

I gave both of these things some thought and decided that yes, that seems entirely plausible, and actually checked my tub for hiding zombies. Because if I didn't, and a zombie later ambushed me when I was trying to use the restroom, I'd have no one to blame but myself.

Why I don't watch game shows

Sometimes, I watch Jeopardy and someone misses an answer that I know. Then, of course, I point and laugh because "ha,ha - you rage against the dying of the light, not fight against it! Look at how stupid you are, with your stupid face!"

And then I remember that these people are making thousands of dollars by correctly answering questions that I not only don't know, but occasionally don't understand. Then I go back to rotating between Snapped and A-list New York so that I can get all cozy with my inflated sense of superiority.

Obligatory Bone Thugs-N-Harmony Reference

It's November first, which means that it's Rabbit, Rabbit Day.

Rabbit, Rabbit Day, according to something I saw on Nickelodeon when I was about 10, occurs on the first day of every month. The idea is that if the first thing you say when you wake up on the first day of the month is "Rabbit, Rabbit" you'll have good luck all month.

Rabbit, Rabbit Day has been the bane of my existence for sixteen years. It's not even that I believe in it, it's just that I want to say it just once, just for the sake knowing I did it. But on Rabbit, Rabbit Day, I always fail. Always. 70% of the time it's because I completely forget it even exists, but the other 30% it's...more of a personal failing.

Apparently, it's impossible for me to go more than five minutes in the morning without announcing "I'm going to watch Scooby Doo until breakfast is ready," or "wouldn't it be cool if Alan Tudyk was on Supernatural?" or "man, I wish I still had a Popple." This happens without fail. Even if no one's listening.

For sixteen years, I've been unable to achieve the (relatively) simple goal of saying "Rabbit, Rabbit" on Rabbit, Rabbit day just once because I am physically incapable of keeping my mouth shut.

Which, I guess, is why I have a blog.