Scott Baio is my new Twitter BFF!

On Saturday, I attended our annual Christmanukkah party/gag gift exchange.  I wound up getting a Scott Baio poster and a fart machine.

Of course, I took to Twitter to comment on my good fortune. But then a funny thing happened.  Scott Baio responded to my tweet.  For realz, yo:

Now, you should also know that I grew up watching very little television -- until we moved to Florida when I was almost thirteen, all the television I ever watched was:

1. Saturday morning cartoons;
2. Shows on Friday or Saturday nights when we had a babysitter;
3. Growing Pains (because my mom thought Kirk Cameron looked like my brother);
4. Nickelodeon;
5. General Hospital;
6. reruns of The Brady Bunch and Gilligan's Island when I was home sick;
7. various game shows, also when I was home sick;
8. Romper Room, Sesame Street, and the Electric Company; and
9. whatever I was able to watch at my friends' houses. 

I was forbidden from MTV, and a whole lot of other stuff.  So, while I know about shows like "Joanie loves Chachi" and "Charles in Charge," I can honestly say that I might not have ever seen an entire episode of either.  Pretty much all of my pop culture comes from books and movies.

So, of all the 80's teen heartthrobs in the world (query:  is Scott Baio an 80's heartthrob?  Do I even have the years right?  Did I miss it because I am too young?), Scott Baio was not even on my radar.

I do, however, think it's pretty great that he responds to stuff on Twitter.  It was funny and awesome and totally made my day.

Circumstantial evidence

Dear Bob Novak,

I know most people want to give you the benefit of the doubt about running over that 86 year-old homeless pedestrian yesterday. I mean, the cops only gave you a ticket for failing to yield, even though you had driven off from the scene of the accident. Still, isn't it peculiar that you wound up doing the very thing you talked about years ago? As a journalist, wouldn't you find that suspicious?

Just sayin'.

George Carlin

The first thing I read this morning was the news about George Carlin, who, for as long as I can remember, was my favorite comic. And not just because he was in Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure -- one of my favorite movies -- but because he was, at heart, a grammarian. He is one of the first people who got me thinking about words -- sometimes the dirty ones -- in a deeper way.

Here's a story: In 11th grade, some friends and I made a movie. It started out as a bunch of planned out sketches, but eventually broke down into us roaming around the halls, videotaping whatever amused us at the time. And in a tribute to Heathers, we decided to take lunchtime polls. This was right after I discovered George Carlin. So my contribution to the poll questions was first to steal "Why do you park on a driveway and drive on a parkway?" and later, continuing down the linguistic path, to open to random pages of the dictionary and to ask people to come up with definitions of the more unusual words.

Do not try this at home

I managed to get my taxes filed on Monday. Thank god for TurboTax. And Wesley Snipes.

How D.C. and New York are really different

In today's Washington Post, we see an article about how the various candidates are trying to get Al Sharpton's endorsement. In The New York Times, there's a similar article -- only theirs is about Jon Bon Jovi.

Doppelgangers

While watching the commercial for the DVD of Balls of Fury, I noticed that Christopher Walken looks an awful lot like Jon Voight:




I'm not that wrong, am I?

But then, this evening, I walked past a large poster for P.S. I Love You, which, from a distance, looked like it was starring Sandra Bullock, but apparently it's Hilary Swank -- who looks an awful lot like Jennifer Garner:



So, to all the casting directors out there, next time you're looking for people to play siblings, I have some suggestions.

Things you should never do after drinking

I almost never drink at work happy hours. I have a number of reasons for this general policy, but really, they all boil down to one: By not drinking, I can curtail (somewhat) my ability to say or do something stupid.

Yesterday, for some reason, I decided to have a beer. Just one, mind you -- not even enough to be close to drunk -- and yet, the conversation still managed to veer dangerously towards the embarrassing. But that's not really the problem.

The problem is that I got back to the apartment, changed into a t-shirt, went into the bathroom, and cut my hair. All before dinner.

Yep, I gave myself bangs.

I had been thinking about it all week, mostly because when I was at my parents' house, I found some cute pictures of me, as a kid, with bangs. Maybe, I thought, my mom was right for all of these years, and I really do look cutest with a little pixie cut.

Apparently, Katie Holmes's new 'do didn't dissuade me. And neither did all of those years of bad school pictures -- especially the ones where I had cut my own hair, much to my mother's chagrin.

At least now I can cut straight, mostly. And, thankfully, I cut them dry, so I didn't cut them too short. And, as long as you don't really look at it, it doesn't look that bad. What it does look like is that I'm going to have to go to a professional to see what she can do to fix it.

On further reflection

I finally watched the last episode of The Two Coreys. It was anticlimactic. They fight, Haim leaves, and Feldman and his wife breathe a sigh of relief. All is right with the world, blah blah blah. Especially since both Coreys really are making a sequel to The Lost Boys.

I've been an apologist for this stupid reality show. Admittedly, I enjoyed it. I love the idea of two former child stars -- both of whom have survived substance abuse and are now trying to resurrect their careers -- living together in a house. Especially since they're both complete disasters: Haim is messy, disorganized human chaos with no guidelines, no respect, and no clue -- but Feldman is an overly meek and mild mannered vegetarian, somewhat delusional as to the current state of his career, and incessantly and increasingly bossed around by his wife. It's The Odd Couple meets The Real World meets schadenfreude.

. . . Only Feldman already did that on The Surreal Life. And no matter how needy he is, as a 35 year old, Haim probably shouldn't have been staying indefinitely in his best friend's house in the first place. But I guess there's not enough drama if Haim is just the annoying neighbor who drops in uninvited all the time.

Oh well. I was wrong. It's not a great reality show. It's a good idea for a reality show that just didn't live up to its potential. But at least their advice column is funny.

A new understanding of prior events, courtesy of an offhand Julie Delpy comment

I was reading this interview with Julie Delpy (disclaimer: I absolutely adore Before Sunrise) about her new movie, and she said something I found quite profound, probably quite by accident:

What happened? For one, a chance meeting with a former beau. Instead of giving Delpy the what-ifs, the reunion helped her realize she'd made the guy into "a fantasy." "Some people live like that. They move on and get married but always in the back of their minds is the one that got away. It's in our making to always be longing for something else. I'm trying to change my attitude. I'm not longing for anything other than the ability to live in the moment."

I think this is a fitting epilogue to last year's Chicago story. Now I know what it meant.

I hope Matt Damon's a good sport

In between visiting restaurants and being sick, I managed to see The Bourne Ultimatum last week. For the record, I liked the first two, and this one was pretty much the same. (Which is probably why they can make a game of Bourne Mad Libs.)

Then I got home and read this:

The multimillion-dollar marketing campaign for "The Bourne Ultimatum" is so extensive that Universal Studios has actually placed a towering billboard for the hit spy movie on the side of the small Manhattan coop where the film's star, Matt Damon, lives with his family.

But it's not just the ad placement. The language employed makes it even better:

As seen in the below photo, the advertisement-which is about 15 feet wide and 50 feet high--notes that on August 3 (the day the film opened), "Bourne Comes Home."

Now that's funny.

Rock of Love, Episode Two: It's not pretty

I watched last night's episode of Rock of Love, and I have to say, I'm still digging it. Forget about all the drinking, the stripper pole dancing, or any of the normal reality show competition crap: What I learned was that actual physical violence doesn't translate as well as a good round of creative name-calling. Then again, I think watching fake tanned, fake breasted, fake blondes turn on one of their own and refer to her as having "giant clown boobs" is hysterically funny, in a "pot vs. kettle" kind of way. And the retort of saying that her face was "meth-scarred?" Classy.

Last week, I thought the girls looked harsh. This week, they looked way better than the featured rock star/prize/man slut:



Dude, for the love of God, keep the bandanna on! Or the cowboy hat. Heck, even a motorcycle helmet would be an improvement.

Inconceivable!

I remember that my mom took me and the siblings to see The Princess Bride in the theater. It's hard to believe that it was twenty years ago.



It's still one of my favorite movies.

Since then, I've always had a soft spot for Wesley Cary Elwes. Alas, he hasn't aged well. (Not as bad as Val Kilmer, though. Yikes!)



Actually, most of the cast hasn't aged all that well. With, of course, the exception of Fred Savage, who surprisingly turned into a normal-looking grown up.

Anyway, on a related note, here's a Princess Bride quiz. I am:



Which Princess Bride Character are You?

Bonus Pictures from New York

They're from my crappy cameraphone, but they're still interesting.

First, we have the view of the Manhattan skyline from the Weehawken ferry terminal:



Then, we have Times Square, featuring the butt of the Naked Cowboy:



Enjoy!

Celebrity Campaign Contributions

Wanna know what celebrities, athletes, and others donate to campaigns? Click here.

This totally changes how I feel about Anderson Cooper.

Photographer 1, Baked Beans 0

Did anyone else catch the story from late last week where Hugh Grant attacked a photographer with baked beans?

Baked beans. In a tub.

That just seems like the silliest thing. What, he couldn't find something pointy like an umbrella, or something heavy like an ash tray? Heck, he could have used his cell phone like Naomi Campbell and it would have seemed way less ridiculous.

Even better: Imagine having to tell your cellmates that you got arrested for hitting someone with baked beans.

A final thought for the workweek

A treat, from the girls at GoFugYourself.com, just before we head out for the weekend.

It somehow manages to diss a movie, Paul Giamatti, Michelle Williams, and Gainesville, Florida, all in one fell swoop, and with repeated mentions of Dawson's Creek. Well done, ladies.

I can't believe I waited to watch this!

I heard about this weeks ago, but I just sat down to watch it for the first time today:



It (a) made me laugh; (b) made me like Alanis Morissette again (for the first time since Dogma); (c) made me realize just how dumb Fergie's music is; and (d) made me lose even more respect for Josh Duhamel.


Update: This thing has gotten so huge that it's merited a critical analysis in the L.A. Times.

Celebrity kids grow up so fast.

Knut is now, officially, the most famous baby bear in the world. Earlier this month, it was appearing on the Vanity Fair cover with Leonardo DiCaprio, as photographed by Annie Liebovitz.



Today, it's death threats.

Next thing you know, he'll be out clubbing with Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears.

Lay your hands on these

Would it be weird to ask for Bon Jovi Action figures for my next birthday?

Seriously, though -- who wouldn't want collectible Jon and Richie?



Well, other than Heather Locklear.

Proving the rumors are true

You know that old joke about Keith Richards doing every drug known to man, and then some? I think this proves it:

Keith Richards has acknowledged consuming a raft of illegal substances in his time, but this may top them all. In comments published Tuesday, the 63-year-old Rolling Stones guitarist said he had snorted his father's ashes mixed with cocaine.

"The strangest thing I've tried to snort? My father. I snorted my father," Richards was quoted as saying by British music magazine NME.

"He was cremated and I couldn't resist grinding him up with a little bit of blow. My dad wouldn't have cared," he said. "... It went down pretty well, and I'm still alive."

Richards' father, Bert, died in 2002, at 84.

Update: According to MTV News, Keith Richard made the above comment in jest -- as an April Fool's joke. Still, even if that's true, it's a pretty ridiculously gross thing to say -- or even to think.