Another One With the Embryos.

Of the gajabillions of TV shows I watch, I have not yet seen It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia on FX. But this promo just ran, and I might have peed a little after I finished watching it:



Even though Monica's biggest pet peeve is animals dressed as people (from the single kick-awesomist episode of Friends ever, the One with the Embryos), I do get a chuckle out of how mean it is to do that to aminals. Reva did it to her dog, but it's even absurder (<--- not a real word) to do it to a cat.

Even When He's Bad, He's Good.

My friends and I sort of worship Neil Patrick Harris. He's Dr. Evil for Pete's sake! And Barney Stinson! And Doogie ! And the list just goes on. (FYI, I totally saw him in Proof opposite Anne Heche on Broadway. And I ate dinner two tables away from him at the Gramercy Tavern in NYC.)

It came to my attention that NPH auditioned for the role of Dr. Tam on Firefly, which role he didn't get. Sean Maher got it instead. Which made it possible for one Zacquisha (because he actually can pass for a young Sean Maher) to get his first onscreen role as the young Dr. Tam, thereby fulfilling a geektastic degree of separation between him the Whedonverse.

It's crap like this that makes me happy.

Jimmy Fallon Strikes Again. And Bye Teddy - We'll Miss You.

OMG. I thought the Hawaii Chair was fiction, like Santa Claus, gravity, or Britney's chastity belt. But this:



This is fake, right? Wrong.

Thank you Jimmy. Your interns (or whoever) are the. awesomest. websurfers. ever.

And Now a Third Thought.

So, continuing on this little money phase I've got going on: Planet Money did a podcast interview with Crazy Eddie. DUDE. I grew up in western Massachusetts, so I was totally close enough to the New York City media markets to see this commercial on TV all the time:



Like, that and Sesame Street. All the time.

So what I didn't realize (and why it makes sense that this would be on an economics podcast) was that Crazy Eddies was guilty of one of the biggest securities fraud cases in history (I feel like I should have known this -- but I moved to eastern Mass fairly early on, and that's like an entirely different world -- more white collar, less redneck). And Planet Money interviewed the guy that snitched on everyone. Suh-hweeeeeet.

Quite possibly one of the most interesting things I've heard in a long, long time. It's insane.

Baseball Jargon Pet Peeve.

Look, I'm happy, nay, THRILLED that the Red Sox are righting their little post-break slide (freefall?), but the grammar nazi that I am can't help but shudder at the improper use of baseball terminology. Last night, David Ortiz did NOT hit a walk-off homerun to win the game. To do that, there had to have been at least one runner on base (the score was 2-2 before Ortiz came up to bat. The whole idea behind a walk-off is that the hitter doesn't need to cross home plate -- but in this case, Ortiz had to do just that to make the score officially 3-2 for the Boston win.

Late inning heroics are good and all, and Ortiz, steroids or no, is totes clutch, but walk-offs are a unique beast. Close enough is for horseshoes and hand grenades (oopah! I've been waiting--DYING even--to use that in my writing!), not walk-offs.

More Economy.

Another installment of some cool Planet Money stories:

The FDIC-- the effin' FDIC--is almost out of money. You know how every bank has that little sign out by their front door saying that they are FDIC insured? So that your first $100k (well, now $250k) is insured? Yeah, well they are almost out of money.

It turns out that they have an unlimited credit line with the Treasury, but the sheer magnitude of bank failures as a result of this financial crisis is making that the thud at the bottom of the bottomless pit seem like not such an off-the-wall sound.

I'm Determined Not To Sit This Out.

So a ways back, I talked about how some podcasts are helping me to not sit out on some big issues of the day. "Luckily," the big issue going on right now is the whole recession and stuff, so I sort of can't help but be on board just by listening to Planet Money (Alex Blumberg cracks me up).

I don't do as good of a job keeping up with their blog, but there have been a couple goodies recently, so herewith, I'm going to point some of them thars out.

One thing they do is have an "Indicator" which is just some number or sign out in the real world that helps contextualize the state of the economy. One of their listeners (not me) offered a tidbit about recipe websites suggesting more hot dog based foods, such as this:


Oh my God! I've totally eaten budae jjigae! Recession-schmecession. That's good eatin' (and value). Yeah Korea!

Early Imps of Project Runway.

I'm not as much of an addict of PR as I am of TC (though I haven't actually followed either series in full since their inceptions -- damn you Durham for your lack of Bravo! three years people), and given that I have, you know, a job, it's unlikely that I'll blog about both. But it being all fresh and new and buzzy, I can make time in my endlessly important day to note a few thoughts of the first episode of this, the lost season of Project Runway:

1. Johnny. Tone the drama down.

2. Mitchell. Tone the drama DOWN.

3. Malvin. You are no Christian Siriano.

4. Qrystal. LOVE YOUR NAME. I would have loved it even more if you spelled it "Qrstl."

5. Gordana should have won. Christopher's dress was almost there, but it seemed lopsided in the front.

6. LiLo subdued? Qwhaaa?

Sizing Up the Top Chef Contestants.

Top Chef Season 6 started this week -- in Vegas! A nice little connection to my Labor Day plans. In any case, with 17 cheftestants, it's a little hard to separate the chaff from the tripe at this point. But that hasn't stopped me before:

1. First things first (what a weird saying, btw) I can't get enough of Padma Lakshmi's slightly stoned imperial presence. Utterly beguiling in all its mellow-ocity.

2. I was originally all excited that I recognized one of the restaurants owned by one of the contestants (Michael's Zatinya), until about 3 minutes into the episode where it became apparent that he's a major d-bag. And it only got progressively worse from there. Dude could not BE a more terrible Jersey stereotype.

3. I can't tell the brothers apart (Bravo's website dubbs them Bryan and Michael), but they both share a striking resemblance to Jason Dohring from Veronica Mars (of which I will selectively forget that season 3 ever happened). And that's a good thing. He put the Lo in LoVe! If you know what I'm talking about, take two awesome points and call me in the morning.

4. Jennifer seems like a cold b____.

5. Mattin is adorable. But after some cyberstalking (yes, yes, I do that, get over it), it's come to light that though he's pushing 6 feet, he weighs only 146 pounds. Eat some friggin' beurre, my friend.

6. Sadly, several of the contestants have already tried pushing their backstories to stand out. Well, I'll humor them, but convenient forget their names: Cancer Girl, Gay Boy, and the One Who Survived 937,294 Days On a Raft Made of Popsicle Sticks from Haiti. Call me callous, but these reality TV cliches are so overplayed and will get you only so far unless you brungz it.

My Super Early Pick (and note, I do not purport to have Kris Allen-like awesomeness when it comes to choosing Top Chef winners like I do when I choose, um Kris Allen -- I mean, I chose Fabio/Fabrizio/whatever his name is from last season): Jennifer.

Running Down Fall Movies.

It's that time again! Except it's fall, not summer, and now the source of my confusion is that December is somehow in the fall, just like May was in summer. Anyhoo, I've finally gotten a chance to thumb through EW's double ish that previews all the movies that are fit to print--or release during Oscar season. Here's a month by month of what I'm most looking forward to:

In September:

• 9 (9/9). Dude, I totally just got that marketing! A bizarro post-apocalyptic CGI movie that totes makes me geek out. Shut up. It looks awesome.
• The Informant! (9/18). I remember that episode where Dawson said he was going through a "Steven Soderbergh" phase. That was when Erin Brockovich, Traffic, and Ocean's 11 came out. Since then? Yeah, not so much. But this has Matt Damon. And I love his hair. So I'll go see this.
• Fame (9/25). Done and done. And done.
  

In October:

• Toy Story 1 and 2... in 3D! (10/2). Pixar is re-releasing awesomeness into the world, but this time in 3-D. I don't know if I'll be able to help myself. Why resist?
  
• Whip It (10/9). I don't get why roller derby is a women's sport. Regardless, I have a weird fascination with it. So yeah, I'm down, even if Drew Barrymore directed it.
• The Road (10/16). The first real "prestige" movie that I might want to see. I haven't read the book yet, but I plan to before hand. Sounds like a real pick-me-up.
• Mary and Max (TBA). In the grand tradition of 9 (hmm... is a month long enough for a tradition?), this is another animated film for growed-ups. You know, us soulless ratracers. I just saw the trailer online, and you've got my curiosity piqued.

In November: (Here's where it gets brutal. Somehow, I'm going to have to not work, not sleep, and not eat to fit these all in.)

• The Box (11/6). A Twilight Zone episode played out with a movie budget and length.
• Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire (11/6). I've heard nothing but raves since Sundance about this movie about puppies and piglets and pandas and peaches and . . . Mariah Carey without makeup . . . and Mo'Nique being an Oscar contender. Oh, honey, just imagine her acceptance speech.
  
• Fantastic Mr. Fox (11/13). So, everyone I know is obsessed with Where the Wild Things Are -- and granted, the trailer looks surreally good. But I was never into the book as a child. But FMF was one of those books that I read and re-read so many times that I had memorized the feel and smell of the library book copy that I kept checking out. I can still picture what it looks like right now. So yeah, color me psyched -- but cautiously so. I hate Wes Anderson's directing style (oh look! I'll frame everything in the center of the screen head on! I'm so avant-garde and unique!).
• Broken Embraces (11/20). I'm not sure if I'll see this in the theaters, but Pedro Almodovar has allowed me to not only forgive Penelope Duckface Cruz, but to actually like her as an actress.
• Nine (11/25). I like musicals. Sue me. And then I'll counter-sue you because I'm a lawyer, and that's how I roll.
• The Princess and the Frog (11/25). You have no idea how happy I am that Disney is remembering that it's not the CGI of Pixar that makes their movies awesome -- it's the awesome stories they tell. And hey! Disney used to do that! In hand-drawn animation! I have every finger crossed that this is a success and starts another age--the platinum age maybe? (Pinocchio-ish era = Golden Age; Lion King-ish era = Silver Age)--of Disney animation.
• Me and Orson Welles (11/25). Shut up. I liked 17 Again.

In December:

• Avatar (12/18). James Cameron makes about 1 movie every 52 years. And they usually are fancy.
• Tree of Life (12/25). Pro? Brad Pitt. Con? I still haven't finished Terence Malick's The New World--and that starred Colin Farrell, whom I love more than Kris Allen. I'll wait for the gasps to subside before I continue with...
  
• Sherlock Holmes (12/25). You have no idea how much I want to see this.

Most anticipated: Sherlock Holmes. RDJ and Rachel McAdams on full-on charm-mode. *blush*

The big movies I'm so-so on: New Moon (People, Twilight was terrible); Shutter Island (I'm not a Scorcese acolyte); Where the Wild Things Are (Meh); The Lovely Bones (How this was ever a best seller -- ugh -- I listened to it as a book on tape driving from Durham to Boston and back -- and was vachement unimpressed).

Wicked, Wicked Lover.

After all the props I give you, EW, this is how you repay me? Because I want more than two square feet of apartment space and because I don't want to spend an hour driving twenty feet? That's cold, dude.

Zing Sucks.

5 Gum is my favorite gum.

But their new flavor Zing sucks. It melts like Orbit gum does after only like 20 minutes of chewing. It's the Comcast of low-calorie chewing gums.

I Totally Wanted To Go To SpaceCamp.

So today, Mental Floss had a quiz (it has two daily quizzes -- one at lunch and one at 5pm) where you had to name the 80s movie whose plot was described. I did terribly, but one that I totally rocked was the plot for SpaceCamp. In its commentary (see, it likes to learn you stuph, not just chuck trivia bits at your gaping maw), it noted the ridick cast of the movie. So I took a gander, as I have a tendency to do, and just look at this lineup (courtesy of imdb, bien sur)!

Kate Capshaw	...	Andie Bergstrom
Lea Thompson	...	Kathryn Fairly
Kelly Preston	...	Tish Ambrosei
Larry B. Scott	...	Rudy Tyler
Joaquin Phoenix	...	Max (as Leaf Phoenix)
Tate Donovan	...	Kevin Donaldson
Tom Skerritt	...	Cmdr. Zach Bergstrom (Andie's husband)
Barry Primus	...	Brennan
Terry O'Quinn	...	Launch Director

First, you might ask: who the hell is Larry B. Scott? Lamar from Revenge of the Nerds!

Second, I don't know who Barry Primus is. But one of his credits is in some masterpiece called "Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death," which starred a youngish (well, 33 yo) BILL MAHER.

Good gravy! So yeah, Lar and Bar totes belong in the company of Spielberg's wife, Caroline in the City, Travolta's beard, Academy Award nominee, Marisa's Daddy/Joshwah, Picket Fences Guy, and One of the Worst Written Characters on Lost.

Who am I kidding. I started out this post wanting to rave about the awesomeness of SpaceCamp--a movie whose bril formula is essentially copied in cinematic gems such as G.I.Jane, which stars Demi Moore's right bicep--but really, I just want to watch CWINAJOD.

I'm Going To Admit Something.

I find this commercial so disturbing.



And honestly, I'm not crazy about this one either.



Like, cute talking food? Teaching kids to be eaten by humans? Running futilely on a conveyor belt to escape being eaten? That's so f'ed, man.

Dexter.

I don't know what it says about me that my current favorite show that I'm catching up on via the magical elves at Netflix (instant streaming even!) is about a serial killer.

But Michael C. Hall is kinda incredible as Dexter, and the first season (despite one too many twists and coincidences) was sort of unbelievably written. His sister starts out as the Next Person You Want Dexter To Kill, but to her credit, she turns out to be good plucky, not totally annoying plucky. I'm glad they also decided to snuff out the whole Laguerta being attracted to Dexter thing. The only real flaw is Doakes, who is so one note. I like that he softens up around Dexter's sister, but they need to push that a bit. Anyhoo, I just finished the first ep of the second season (bril writing, if I do so stamp my approval). But there is one question I have:



These are the kick-awesome opening credits. It totally fits the show. But who flosses in the morning?

Reason No. 1,691,903,884 that Kris Allen is Kick-Awesome.

*Swoon*

Reason No. 1,691,903,883 that Kris Allen is Kick-Awesome.

He is a Boy Meets World fan:

MTV Shows

First, Saved By the Bell, now this? What's next--DuckTales?

I Haven't Blogged About Kris Allen In A While.

MTV Shows

Bras for Adam, and boxers to Kris. I told you.

Note To Self.

Ipods are not allowed in Maryland state courts.

I Scream.

Obsessed with the awesomeness of ice cream in the Boston-area (my fave, bien sur being Kimball's -- the Carlisle location more specifically -- btw, Carlisle is so tiny it's local newspaper is called the Mosquito -- I know, quaint, right?), Yahoo! just posted a list of top ice cream destinations in the country. Of the 8 on the list, 5--yes 5--are in New England.

Proof positive that frappe isn't "Yankee" for milkshake. Milkshake means there's no G-D ice cream in it. Get it right, America.

Musical Nerdtastic.

Trusty EW pointed me to this spoof. Except it's sort of true:



Sweetness.

"This Is Water. This Is Water."

I'm reading a collection of short essays edited by Ira Glass, the dude who does This American Life from Public Radio International (NPR has a competitor - who knew?). I'm just about to finish David Foster Wallace's "Host," which is about talk radio and not alien pod people, and I'm sort of obsessed with his writing. I've never read any DFW before this, and his footnote-y style is so up my alley (that's a weird idiom -- SEE?!?!?!!) that I've been scouring for more. After his suicide last year, EW pointed out some of his greatest hits, one of which is a commencement speech he gave at Kenyon College in 2005. It absolutely ranks with Conan's class day speech from 2000.

One of the Reasons that She Won.

Jeanine's final solo on the finale of So You Think You Can Dance before the last bit of voting sort of sealed it for her. Watch the turns, dude, and gawk in the awesomeness:

I Miss Triumph.

Bacon!

So Kris Allen wins American Idol, beating Evil Gokey.  Then Jeanine Mason wins SYTYCD, beating sweet-but-out-of-his-league Evan Kzsxrvkqk.  The world is going bats--t reasonable all of a sudden.  I feel like it's going to start raining puppies and baby ostriches any day now.

 

In other news, I'm two degrees of separation from a contestant on More to Love.  Give me a medal.

I Love Amtrak.

But I hate the voice-response system on their telephone reservation line.

Zooey and Joe.

I'm not going to lie, I'm one of those people who sighed with a smile at the end of the (500) Days of Summer. (Some robots groaned.)

It's worth chattin' about again because I can't get it out of my head, which is always a sign that I particularly enjoyed a movie. And then lo and behold, my friend ***Elizabeth*** pointed me to this piece of awesomeness:



Apparently, Zooey and Joe are planning on Tom/Meg and Tracy/Hepburn their way into our hearts. I'm already there. This music vid only dusted off the welcome mat one more time.

And while we're on the topic, I'm going to take issue with Ezra Klein's "review" that Adam agreed with. It looked to me like Ezzy found a disconnect between the marketing of the movie and the movie itself. But so what? I'd think that most saavy viewers would immediately skepticize any sort of studio marketing of a movie. Taken on its own, however, (500) Days of Summer totally owns what it purports to be: a story about love and NOT a love story.

You Can Dance.

Jeanine Mason for the win.

Oh, Right. Miracle Max's Wife Is Played By Carol Kane. Duh.

Something about being on vacation (by the way, I look amazing in Nantucket Reds) makes me crave ice cream. Now I can make my own flavor, without having to do any work, except for normal work so I can take out a mortgage to buy my own custom-flavored ice cream.

Spam.

At work, the majority of my spam is addressed to a dude named Scott Naismith.