Kid on the Bus 1: Just spell it.
Kid on the Bus 2: I am!
KOB1: You’re going too slow.
KOB2: You spell something, you spell… “visitation.”
KOB1: “Visitation.” V-I-S-T-I… Shut up! V-I-S-I-T-I-O-N. “Visitation.”
She’s got a shining future in spam.
Category: Obsessions
Rob Thomas has been invited to my birthday party since 1998, of course, but I’m a little surprised myself that Jason Dohring is the first actor from Veronica Mars to be invited. Okay, that’s all. I’m done! I promise not to post about Veronica Mars anymore, even though it’s ALL I THINK ABOUT WHERE ARE THE NEW EPISODES WHERE WHERE
Also, added “my birthday party” to the War on Clarity.
Volscian made picture of Rita! And it’s awesome! So awesome that I blew up!
I really like the idea that Rita has tired eyes and a kind of round face–no Carrie-Anne Moss here. I hesitate to pronounce the picture canon only because I’m pretty careful about when and how I state that any given character is of a particular race; it’s perfectly valid to assume Rita is white, but also valid to assume she isn’t. Still, if I were ever to print out the Rita stories or anything, that would make a pretty great cover.
Yeah, you can tell I’m not famous because I obsess over fanstuff.
California game update
My uncle John offers a rhyming take on Atlantis, and my mom gently reminds me that of course I didn’t invent the form: both “California” and the game were inspired by a picture book she read us when we were young, called Whose Mouse Are You, by Robert Kraus.
Also, saved from the LJ comment thread:
Will:Where is Atlantis? Under the sea.
What’s under the sea? Not you, and not me.
Well then, where are we? The internet.
How’d we get there? Zeroes and ones.
What do those stand for? Video fun.
What is flypaper?
Me: Sweetness that kills.
David: What can’t be killed?
Scott: Everything dies.
Josh: Why do they die?
William: They run out of time.
Beth: What is time?
Kevan: Memory. [Then, because of a crosspost:] Curse you, time!
Ken: What time is it?
Stephen: It’s hamburger time.
David: Do hamburgers rhyme?
Scott: Not on my dime.
Me: OKAY NEW ONE. What is a curse?
Scott: Bad karma, realized.
William: How is it realised?
Ken: Through the teachings of the Maharishi.
Beth: What is the Maharishi?
Me: A teacher of hunger.
Scott: Where is the hunger?
David: In the bowels of the cursed…
Which seems like a neat place for a cutoff.
How many is seven?
A game to play while walking
I call this the California game, but it doesn’t actually have to rhyme.
What is noir? A story about losers.
Who are the losers? They didn’t win.
Who are the winners? The writers of history.
What is a history? Lies that come true.
What kind of words come true? Magic ones.
So for a noir story you make up people who know magic, then write about the ones who don’t.
Your turn. Where is Atlantis?
On my birthday party
To invite you to my birthday party is to hold you in high esteem. If you are reading this, you are a person of discerning taste, and are almost certainly invited to my birthday party. Michelle Kwan is, as previously mentioned, invited to my birthday party; so is Mindy Kaling, neé Chokalingam. Vincent Baker and televison’s Rob Thomas are invited to my birthday party. Maria and I watched P.S. last night, which has restored Laura Linney’s invitation to my birthday party, after a brief revocation involving The Mothman Prophecies. Tom Peterson of LEO Weekly is invited to my birthday party. Kelly Link and Emily Watson are each invited twice.
The obvious corollary is that mere joy or sexual allure are not enough to score an invitation–but being disinvited is not necessarily a slight. Hackers is not invited to my birthday party; it would spill soda on the ponies. M. Night Shyamalan has had his invitation taken away and put in my desk drawer until he makes a movie without a twist. The casts of Arrested Development and Firefly are invited to my birthday party, but only one at a time. We don’t want to lose focus.
The metaphorical birthday party we’re discussing here is not to be confused with my actual birthday parties, which are pretty much just like Tuesday Night Basketball except I get to go “whoo!” and think about death.
I was totally wrong and I’m so happy about it! Over a year after I wrote about it with lovelorn pessimism, The Louisville Game Shop is thriving, with more stock and better shelving and multiple event nights every week. I am really glad this is the case! I congratulated Colin on that achievement when I went in to buy some gifts last month, and he said “thanks! It’s all thanks to you guys.” And I, in a greedy little kid way, was like yes. It’s thanks to me.
The shooting scripts for Firefly. I borrowed a book on television writing a while back and never read it; I think these will be more valuable.
I talk about television too much now.
The WB and UPN will merge in September, creating a new network called CW (because it’ll be jointly owned by CBS, which owns UPN, and Time Warner). Presumably this means a bold new vision of alternating teensoaps with incredibly-low-production-values “urban” sitcoms and wrestling. Also maybe Star Trek?
This actually is a fairly big shakeup in the electromagnetic spectrum–a lot of areas have stations allocated to both UPN and the WB. The WB reliably does better than UPN, so that’s probably the station where CW will reside in most markets. I think it’s obvious, when all the factors are considered, that the leftover stations should go to: me.
Seriously, the first thing I thought when I read that headline was “but–but–what will happen to Veronica Mars?”