Random crap today. I know, I’m totally about the random crap lately? Sorry. It’s that time of year. My brain’s going about a million miles an hour. Also, for some reason, half of the computers in the office are not working today, so I’m kind of petrified mine’s going to just shit the bed any minute now and then WHERE WILL WE BE.
Tonight I’m off to the theater to watch my first full run of Rumors before tech week next week. I’m very excited. It’s going to be awesome, and, well, “They’re YOUR friends, Jesus,” of course.
Also, do any of you work with the laziest person ever? Like, you’re working and working and working (yes, yes, I know at this EXACT MOMENT I’m not exactly working, I’m blogging, but let me assure you that I’ve BEEN working and I constantly keep stopping in ORDER to work) and you keep hearing the laziest person ever just walking all around the office having conversations about shit like what she watched on TV last night and how stamp prices are through the roof and then about an hour later she comes to you and she’s all “This is a TIME CRUNCH! I need this IMMEDIATELY! I’m ON DEADLINE!” and you’re thinking, “Hmm, maybe if you were a little better with the time management and the chatting, you wouldn’t be in this totally annoying pickle that I am not at all interested in helping you with at all?” Anyone else work with this person? If so, any idea how I can dispose of a body and not get caught? Awesome, thanks.
Listen, I’m pretty sure Dumbcat is plotting my demise. Last night I was all comfy-cozy in my bed and 99.9% asleep, and he was asleep next to me on my pillow, which he likes to do and I totally let him because I love his face, and then, out of NOWHERE, he got the heebie-jeebies and decided he had to get off the bed NOW NOW NOW, and he LEAPT off the pillow, used me as a launching pad, and hurtled into the dark of the bedroom, leaving huge claw marks across my throat. So that’s proof, right there, he’s attempting to murder me in my sleep, right? Like, today, I kind of look like I was assaulted in a dark alley by a madman. When I asked him what that was all about this morning (what, you don’t have human conversations with your cat? Well, you’re missing out, I’m telling you right now) he WOULD NOT ANSWER ME. Totally saucy, that hitman cat!
OK, RANDOM CRAP THAT I FIND INTERESTING.
I’m pretty sure the FBI has a folder on me somewhere
So I found this article yesterday where the writers at The Mary Sue were upset because Google Analytics, based on their search histories, think they’re men.
I see both sides of that. Yes, it’s sexist, sure, and it needs to be fixed, because it’s 2012 and women like things that have been known as “traditionally male” until somewhat recently, thanks, Google, way to get with the future. But it’s also early stages for Google Analytics, so they’re still learning. I don’t think it MEANS to be sexist. It’s a computer. And it’s only there to target what ads we see, anyway. And who even LOOKS at the ads? I wasn’t even aware that Google was putting ads up anywhere that were targeted to me.
So then I clicked on the link in the article and it showed me what MY analytics were. TOTALLY INTERESTING. Because there’s nothing anyone likes more than knowing what Big Brother thinks of you!
On my home computer, Google thinks, based on my search history, I’m 35-44 years old, female, and I like animals, celebrities, and “home pest control.” Ha! That’s totally because of my intensive Rough on Rats research. So, in other words, if someone locally dies of arsenic poisoning, the FBI’s coming to get me, aren’t they. DAMMIT. I blame Jim for this, I totally do. JIM! If I get arrested for murdering someone with arsenic based on my totally in-depth Rough on Rats reporting, you’d better come bail me out.
Also, animals I get, but celebrities? I don’t do a lot of searching for celebrities. That’s kind of a fail, Google.
OH! And, non-related, so SIDE NOTE, my mom was able to see the article about my great-grand-aunt, the ROUGH ON RATS MURDERESS, but she wasn’t able to scan it and PDF it to me because my great-grandmother super-glued it into an album totally angrily, according to my mom. But I did find out her name. I just did a search but Google doesn’t know anything about my relative, the murderess. That’s probably because the newspapers where I come from aren’t online yet. More to come, even if I have to hand-copy the damn article when I go home and retype it, or take a photo of it with my phone!
BACK ON TRACK. Then I clicked on the link on my work computer and it has NO IDEA how old I am here, but thinks I am female (well! I am glad Google is so sure of my gender!) and that I search mostly for things related to theater, shoes, makeup, and psychology. Theater and psychology, I get. Shoes? I don’t know the last time I BOUGHT shoes, let alone searched for them. Makeup makes me laugh because there’s this one website I check every day for what’s on television that night, and it talks about makeup a lot on it, but it’s not actually ABOUT makeup, so apparently Google thinks I’m big into eyeshadow. HERE IS WHAT I THINK ABOUT MAKEUP. Ready?
It confuses the shit out of me.
I understand the following: lip gloss, eye shadow, nail polish, eyeliner, and face powder.
I understand, but hate the hassle of: mascara and lipstick.
I do not understand, and do not even own: blush, that brown base shit you’re supposed to put on first before you put on makeup.
So! Google thinks I am a LADY who likes LADY-THINGS. Even though, I’m pretty sure I’ve shown, through my confusion by makeup above, that I am not good at this being a lady thing. It also totally got my age bracket right. That’s nice. Thanks, Google! That’s…kind of creeptastic! But I don’t care. I’m not reading your ads, anyway.
If you knew what I was thinking, you’d run away screaming
So I saw this today and thought, oh, crap, oh, no.
Then I thought, wait, it’s on Fox News, so it’s probably not true.
So apparently, scientists found a way to decode our thoughts and turn them back into the words they are using SCIENCE and BRAIN SCANS and BRAIN WAVES and THE FUTURE. I’m not even going to pretend I understand this. It’s totally confusing.
The only thing in this that sets my mind at ease is the sentence, “He played down fears it could lead to range of ‘mind reading’ devices as the technique can only, at the moment, be done on patients willing to have surgery.”
GOOD. I don’t want anyone reading my thoughts. Mostly because they are a MESS. All scattery and disorganized. My brain’s like the junk-drawer of thoughts. I don’t want anyone seeing that! That’s where I shove all the things I don’t want anyone KNOWING about when they come over to visit! You know, like when you have a last-minute visitor, and you’re all “DIRTY CLOTHES IN THE SHOWER NOW NOW NOW?” That’s my BRAIN. All dirty clothes in the shower and stacks of unread mail under the couch.
Yes, yes, I get that this is totally good news for stroke victims and Alzheimer’s patients. It’s also the freakiest. Gah. Keep out of my BRAIN, scientists.
And you thought a two-hour movie was bad
This is for @lgalaviz, mostly, but you all can benefit from the awesome.
So @lgalaviz doesn’t like musicals because they burst into song and this makes her suspicious because in real life, this doesn’t happen. I’d argue that real life would be SO MUCH MORE AWESOME if this did happen, but everyone has their opinions on how real life should or shouldn’t be a musical, so I’ll go with it.
SO, after I blogged about Breakfast at Tiffany’s and our Sarcastic Movie Night, one of my commenters (who I also know in real life and who knows everything about musicals – seriously, N. is the go-to guy if you have a musical question, I love that) asked if I knew it had been an ill-fated Broadway musical. When I told him I didn’t, he pointed me to the Wikipedia page.
Now, this is not too far out of the realm of possibility – think about it, it’s got all the hallmarks that would make a good musical, a romance, pretty sets, a light enough plot, etc. And worse mistakes have been made in the history of Broadway. I mean, they made Carrie into a musical in 1988 which closed after only 21 total performances. (I’d give my left BOOB to have seen Carrie the musical, seriously.)
Things that are awesomely horrible from this page:
It was written by Edward Albee, who also wrote, among many other things, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf (and The Zoo Story, which I love, love, love.)
Mary Tyler Moore, Richard Chamberlain, and Sally Kellerman were some of the stars
It played four previews on Broadway in 1966 but never opened.
“On a daily basis, the cast was given new material hours before curtain time. Burrows’ departure (the original author) put a damper on the proceedings, resulting in low morale among cast members, and Moore was convinced Merrick planned to fire her soon after opening night.”
“It was not uncommon for the show to run nearly four hours.”
According to the producer, “he shut down the production ‘rather than subject the drama critics and the public to an excruciatingly boring evening.’”
“The show’s failure is legendary among theatre historians and buffs. It has been said that if as many people who have claimed to have seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s really had, it would have run forever.”
Here’s the listing for it on the Internet Broadway Database (YES, that’s really a thing, SHUT UP.) Look how fancy! Who are these characters? Who’s Jeff? Who’s Mags? This is confusing.
@lgalaviz! Can you even imagine? NOT ONLY based on something we kind of agree isn’t that great. NOT ONLY is Holly the only character left we recognize, other than her ex-husband, and Holly’s definitely the least sympathetic character in the show, other than racist Mickey Rooney. NOT ONLY a musical, which you hate. FOUR HOURS LONG! This is like all the things you hate most in the world, all rolled up into a ball! It would make you have an allergic reaction, with the hatred! AND, it was 1966, you couldn’t even use, say, your cell phone or something to distract you! THIS IS THE WORST.
I’m pretty sure hell for @lgalaviz would be having to watch this over and over and OVER.
OH SIDE NOTE. So I might not get Star Wars in time for our next Sarcastic Movie Night so we’re now trying to narrow it down to either St. Elmo’s Fire or The Blair Witch Project. STAY TUNED MY LITTLE JUJUBES.
OK! That was a lot of random crap, I am spent. OH. Are you all watching Justified? If you aren’t, you need to be. Get seasons one and two and catch up and then start watching season 3. Seriously, the performances on this show are amazing, and I’m not just saying that because Timothy Olyphant looks like this.
Honestly, as much as I love my Olyphant, this is who keeps me coming back every week.
Just start watching. You’ll see. He’s HYPNOTIC, this guy.
Also, AW! Timothy Olyphant and Walt Goggins are FRIENDS! This is ADORABLE, you guys!
They’re YOUR friends, Jesus.