Telephone Call For Mr. Horrible

I do not usually share much of the goings-on in my dayjob in this space. Today I could not resist though because of the life-imitates-they-might-be-giants aspect of this e-mail exchange.

A: “Does anyone know where the desk chair is for the empty office? There was a chair for that office and now it seems to have disappeared. Please let me know if you know where it is. Thank you.”

B: “Twice I found it in the locked file room and twice I’ve moved it back. Guess it has a mind of its own??”

C: “Thank you, that is exactly where I found it tonight. Would who(m)ever keeps moving it in there, please let me know and why you are moving it? If we need to get a chair for that office, we can order something, but please stop moving the office chairs. Thank you.”

I Thought You Said ‘Bing Crosby’

Rita Cosby’s contract will not be renewed at MSNBC, it’s being reported.

It’s a known fact that Cosby’s first passion wasn’t television journalism. She wanted to be a professional hypnotist. Unfortunately for Cosby, she never was able to lead a single successful session.

She and her subjects could never get beyond the “YOU ARE GETTING SLEEPY” part.

Sofrito Is People

It was this red little jar staring me in the face in the Meskin food aisle of my local supermercardo. Sofrito. And I was thinking about rice anyway, and it says it’s for rice, and beans, and soups and stews. And so I cooked up the rice in my magick rice cooker, not just rice, but a mix pack, and I stirred in the Sofrito, and man, that stuff is like the food the government doesn’t want the gringos to know about. And my Internet research on the stuff indicates that the storebought stuff doesn’t do justice to what Mama makes.

The Black Donnellys

Regarding “The Black Donnellys,” NBC’s replacement for “Studio 360” that premiered on the telvision machine last evening, I would like to plagiarize from the recovering Roger Ebert.

I hated “The Black Donnellys.” Hated hated hated hated hated “The Black Donnellys.” Hated it. Hated every simpering stupid vacant audience-insulting moment of it. Hated the sensibility that thought anyone would like it. Hated the implied insult to the audience by its belief that anyone would be entertained by it.

Now, for my own words: Too much exposition. Too dark. Too somber. No, and I mean no, humor. In fact, this show is anti-humor. As in, if you placed “The Black Donnellys” into the same place with humor, the universe would cease to exist. I don’t like any of the characters. To draw the inevitable comparison: “Los Sopranos” works because not only does it show you what murdering psychopaths the guys are, it also shows you that they’re feeble, flawed, and damned funny to watch. It works because you find yourself torn because, while Tony Soprano is capable of and thinks nothing of killing with his bare hands, he also requires therapy and has a soft spot for animals. These chaps in “Donnellys” are nothing but dull, scrappy, one-dimensional hooligans, all of them. This show sucks. It sucks on its own merits but especially sucks because it replaced a much better though by no means great program. But replacing “Studio 60” with “Donnellys” is like replacing a plate of graham crackers with an enema administered by Mike Tyson. Nice move, peacock.

In Which Mandy Moore Redeems Herself For “trite, blah pop music” Though She Already Had Done So in 'Saved'

I was a Mandy Moore fan from the time she screamed that she was full of Christ’s love and beaned a chick with a Bible. So the admission in the third to last graf in rather moot. But it’s certainly interesting.

Mandy Moore: I struggled with depression

NEW YORK – Mandy Moore has a lot going for her, including a starring role opposite Diane Keaton in the upcoming comedy “Because I Said So.” Even so, she says she’s grappled with depression.

“A few months ago I felt really low, really sad. Depressed for no reason,” the 22-year-old actress-singer says in an interview in the February issue of Jane magazine, on newsstands Tuesday.

“I’m a very positive person, and I’ve always been glass-half-full,” she continues. “So it was like someone flipped a switch in me. I wanted to figure out why.”

Moore, newly single after high-profile relationships with actor Zach Braff and tennis standout Andy Roddick, says her recent split with Braff didn’t help matters.

“The breakup added to what I was going through, but it’s not the complete reason,” she tells the magazine. “It definitely doesn’t help if you’re already in that place … .”

Moore, who is working on a new record at a studio in Woodstock, N.Y., and feeling better for doing it, says writing songs “away from friends in L.A. or New York” is good for the soul.

“Writing has been really therapeutic,” she says of her music. “These little nuggets that have come up over the past eight months have made me look at things in a different way.”

Moore started out as a squeaky-clean teen singer and later crossed over into movies with featured roles in such films as “A Walk to Remember,” “Saved” and “American Dreamz.”

“I feel bad that people wasted their money on such trite, blah pop music,” says Moore about her earlier music.

Moore has been looking inward a lot of late.

“I’ve been going through this really crazy time in my life it’s what I imagine people fresh out of college go through,” she says. “I’m asking myself life-altering questions, like `Who am I? Where do I fit in this world? What am I doing, what do I want to do? Am I living to my full potential?'”

Say Hello To My Little Friend

A few random comments regarding some popular culture, um, thingies.

Jesscita and I watched Scarface, both for the furst time last weekend. We have been trying to expand our basic background expertise in the realm of popular culture by renting those entirely quotable movies, the ones you sort of have to have seen to actually understand The Simpsons. We didn’t like it, not much, but I have to admit, it does stick. She and I decided that it has the world’s most twisted montage evar, and that it wasn’t very nice of that man to chainsaw that other guy’s head, and that the music was wretched, and that the film never really gives you a chance to actually root for Tony Montana, you go from a mild aversion to really hating this sadistic, wacked-out bastard. We concluded that it must have been a really powerful film when it was released…something that Ebert—who apparently LOVED Scarface—confirms in his review.

In other news, I’m watching Idol now. Yes, I know. I’ve eschewed this idiotic show—until now, but…sweet holy crap, Ottawa, Kansas, REPRESENT! Am also watching the White Rapper Show due to its excellent host, MC “Back To The Grill Again” Serch. Propah.

1-1-2007

I woke up this morning next to Jesscita. We were sleeping by 12:06 a.m. I might have stayed up a bit later. It coulda gone either way. But the par-tay at her howse went on without us, and then we woak up this morning and went to the breakfist and then watched an episoad of the “Monk” and then I went home. Then I went to the grocery store and bought things. Then I made lots and lots of whole wheat pancakes with razzberries. A yummy breakfist for following days. And I also bot the things to make meatloaf and smashed potatoes with.

These aren’t resolutions, but they are some things I’d like to do in 2007. The perennial resolution is to journal more. Last year, I bot a red 2007 journal book and promised a page a day. It lasted a month or so. But I do tend to blog regularly, so perhaps a personal journal online might werk. The second thing I’d like to do is to cook more. I am a pretty decent cook, and I do want to eat more healthfully (an adverb, not the more-often misused adjective), and so I want to cook more. And to do more. Maybe to even get involved in an issue or something. I dunno.