Photoshop Friday Presents: Betty White is My Homegurl

Betty is my twin, my homegurl.  The resemblance is uncanny!

It's not really a secret anymore, but I'm a little confused as to why TMZ hasn't called me yet for a story.  

Yes, Betty White is my twin.

I know, I know.  Some people don't see it, but CLEARLY they are Off Their Rockers. (By the way, have you seen that show?! It is HILARIOUS.  I highly, highly recommend it! It's pretty much a show about older folks playing pranks on everyone. Like Punk'd, but with more scooters.)

Anyways, Betty White is 90 years old, and still up and kickin' ass in the entertainment industry.  I love that.  We're good friends - I call Betty up on my speed-dial-O-Meter (filed under "Hoodrat Mama") if I want a night out clubbing.  She's 90, but she can show me up on that "stanky leg" every time  Don't let that "Ohh, I'm old" deal fool you; that girl's got some game, too.  Like, if we were pieces of a chess set, Betty White would be the queen, doing whatevvvver the hell she wants all the damn time to keep her king AND get yours; everyone else is the little pawn pieces that suck at everything.

But seriously, not only does Betty White love what she does, people all over really love her, too.  She has been able to keep up with this remarkable career for several decades.  It's pretty hardcore.  In 2010, Facebookers even launched a campaign to have her host Saturday Night Live - and SNL producer Lorne Michaels agreed!

It was two of my favorite things put together: SNL and BETTY!

Bump dat stereo, guuuuurl

I'm pretty sure this episode is still up on Hulu.com if anyone is interested in seeing the lady in action.

What this all leads up to is my infinite love for, not only comedy, but women in comedy.  It's fascinating, so much so, that I've written several of my college research papers about it (mostly Commedia dell'Arte in its historical beginnings/prime, but who's looking?).  All my life, I've wanted to be like Molly Shannon, Ellen Degeneres, Lucille Ball, Kristen Wiig, Carol Burnett, Amy Poehler, the cast of Steel Magnolias/ The Golden Girls, and many, many others.   

"Please God, forgive me for not telling Slater that I went to the bathroom in the pool tonight."

Isn't it refreshing to see funny women captivate the world?  Women can joke on an entirely different level than men, too.  Not to bang on the buck, but men can sometimes lean towards the overly sexual/offensive in their comedy bits to get a few cheap-shot chuckles in, but these ladies can command the laugh without even smudging their lipstick.  They all deserve big, shiny trophies! 

 ...Or, at the very, very least, pet monkeys trained to feed them grapes and open the mail.

Right now, I can only photoshop myself as/with funny hot mess babes like Betty White.  But, someday, that funny hot mess babe could be me. 

Or my dog, Daisy.  That bitch is funny.

"Bachelorette" FINALE! JEF + EMILY 4EVA.

And then there was loveeeee.

Okay, so as some may or may not know, I was completely, COMPLETELY obsessed with this season's Bachelorette on ABC. It was borderline sad.  But I couldn't help myself! A sweet, single mom in search of her soul mate, with a pack of 25 men to try out on an amazing, romantic trip around the world?! Sign me up! (Ummm side note, if I were asked to be the Bachelorette, I'd already be debating which outfits I'd be taking before they even finished their offer.) 

Anyway, all season long, I was rooting for this one guy, Jef Holm, to be the last man standing. And Emily Maynard, the bachelorette, seemed to think he was as amazing as I did, because SHE PICKED HIM! Yay! I haven't been this excited about something probably since I waited in line to watch the last Harry Potter movie. EEEK! Those two belong together. It makes me excited about love, especially unexpected love.

They found each other - and even though it was through a television show, the fact remains: they are in love. Soulmates. *siiiigh.* Beautiful stuff.  Some people believe in it, others don't. Even though I am somewhat bitter on the surface from the past, there is nothing more wonderful than the thought of being loved by someone, unconditionally and with complete truth and kindness, sharing selflessly a life beyond the life we dream of.  I think that keeps everyone searching past the ones who are no more than a pebble in our shoes. And not just that, the wish to love this person so unimaginably beyond what we ever thought we'd be capable of.

I'm very happy for them.  Love stories never get old.  :)

To all those searching for it, good luck in all your hearts call for! To all those who have found their purpose: Congratulations - you did not just encounter luck, but also, fate. <3

Photoshop Friday Presents: "The Jack Dawson Phenomenon"

" She was a one-legged prostitute. See? Ah, she had a good sense of humour though." -Jack 

Some people don't like Titanic. I am among the percentage that does. No matter how long that movie is, it's always worth pausing to make the potty breaks.  It's a great Romeo-Juliet story (Hmm...R for Rose/Romeo and J for Jack/Juliet?...looking too much into it, maybe?), with beautiful, BEAUTIFUL costuming, set design, and cinematography, to say the very least. Plus, Leo DiCaprio showed me what highlights can do for hair. To put it this way, if Titanic were a man, I'd want to make it pancakes.

Anyway, I was writing some stuff down in a spiral notebook the other night about something I have noticed about popular culture; we, the little Earthlings that gaze at the shiny stars - no, not of the sky, but the silver screen - are obsessed with wanting to be with these actors/fictional characters.  I, too, am guilty of this.  (You can see below that my celebrity obsession is Darren Criss, but I don't want to go on to a tangent until after I explain how Titanic is involved with this.)

Hot damn, Darren Criss, you FINE.

Let's be honest. Think of your top 5 celebrity crushes at the moment. Okay, now picture yourself at the grocery store.  While waiting in line to pay for all those items that somehow snuck into your basket even though they weren't on your list of "eggs, bread, milk", you catch a glimpse of a magazine. Somewhere on the cover, BEHOLD! Your celebrity crush. You don't want to pick it up because gossip mags are for the desperate.
LIES.
You DO want to pick it up, because you want to see that rockin' beach body, and scan the pages, then put it back and not buy it, pretending not to care.
LIES.
We love them because we saw them in a movie. We love them because they sing that song like if it was for you. We love them because they are funny/cute/sexy/just broke up with that skank. For whatever reason it is, we are captivated by the idea of what it'd be like to be with them. 5 hours of stalking Google and Youtube later, we are hooked.

I call this "The Jack Dawson Phenomenon".  The year was 1997: Leonardo DiCaprio comes on the screen, says a few words, sketches a naked picture of his love and then sacrifices his life for the same love, freezing to death in the icy waters as she floats on the big-enough-for-two door.  Titanic sweeps the world.  Suddenly, a million girls instantly decided that Leo/Jack is the image of perfection.  Suddenly, Leo is thrown into a life of women (maybe men, too) passionately, obsessively worshiping him as their future husband/everything they'd want their probably less-beautiful husbands to be.  ...Yeah.  That's the "Jack Dawson Phenomenon".
Other men of this Jack Dawson heartthrob status (from observations): Ryan Gosling (The Notebook), Darren Criss (Glee), Robert Pattinson (Twilight), and Johnny Depp (Pirates), to name only a few.
Women have experienced this craze of love-struck followers, too.  Just ask Kim Kardashian.

But really, who cares? What's wrong with a little crush? It's not like we're calling their personal cell phone asking what type of blue dinner napkins we should order for our destination wedding in Hawaii.  But is it healthy? Who knows. Probably not; especially in America, where obesity is a big "fuck you" to healthy.  (There should be more important things on our plate to worry about right now. Literally.)

Yes, I photoshopped this. Ahh. Our children would be ridiculously good-looking.

In the end, however, I suppose it's all alright.  Let us be on the Titanic with Jack Dawson.  Let us be romanced and teased and running around with a guy who claims to be king of the world.  But also, let us be prepared for when that ship sinks.  It isn't real; sure, we can enjoy it, we just can't let our life revolve around them, or compromise who we are because of who they are (example: "I saw Cady Heron wearing army pants and flip flops, so I bought army pants and flip flops." -Mean Girls).

...Still, if Darren Criss asked me to marry him under the condition that I train 100 squirrels to dance the cha-cha...I probably wouldn't say no.  Those squirrels would put Dancing with the Stars to shame.  I'd do this, happily, because the sad truth is:
I'm a victim of Jack Dawson.