3rd leg
Jessie Spano Can Act (Sorta)

Saturday, November 09, 2002

There was a time in my life when I was a little less reserved, a little less thoughtful, and possessed much less maturity. If you’ve been visiting this site long enough, or ever bother to hit the archives, maybe you can recall my mentioning that I was once simultaneously called an ‘Asshole’ by three different sorority girls. It wasn’t like I was caught trying to slip something in somebody’s drink, or the red light on the hidden camcorder was discovered, they just all decided they didn’t have a very high opinion of me---and ironically at the same exact instant. The truth of the matter is that I had a crush on one of the three Alpha Chi Omegas in question---and she had a boyfriend. And I truly did think I was being funny, but then again I was only a sophomore in college. By the way the crush in question has gained at least 60 lbs. and a pair of cankles since that night, so I’m not all that broken up about it.

As the years have passed I’ve lived and learned, but had I not transformed myself in to the intelligent, caring, passionate, virile, witty, hung, and cutie-patootie man I am today, I might have ended up just like Roger. As in Roger Dodger, the cool ass indie flick I caught this weekend while the rest of you were jocking Eminem in 8 Mile. If you learned anything about men trying to navigate the singles scene in Swingers, then consider Roger Dodger an opportunity to earn your Masters in the Study of Male Behavior.

The chick I saw it with hated it, because she didn’t get it, and only saw a movie about a narcissistic, misogynistic copy writer who voluntarily takes on the responsibility of trying to school his naïve 16 year old nephew in the art of seduction and ultimately get him laid. But it is really soooooooooooooooooo much more than that. Roger is played compellingly by Campbell Scott (Dying Young, Singles, The Spanish Prisoner) who was also primarily the reason this movie got made. An inexperienced, yet opportunistic writer/director happened to have the script on him one day while happening to run in to Campbell having lunch, and Campbell was nice enough not to have him removed from the restaurant when he was approached with the ol’ “You’ve got to read my script and help me get my movie made!” plea. Campbell immediately saw how much screen time the title character gets (96% of the movie) and how entertaining Roger’s 10 minute long monologues/tirades concerning gender relations were and made enough calls to bring the script to life.

Seriously, go see this movie. And not just because Elizabeth Berkley is in it… And Jennifer Beals, and yes I know that you thought she died in a welding accident after Flashdance… Don’t get your hopes up guys, they both keep their clothes on---but oh so barely. Under only slightly different circumstances I could’ve turned out like Roger. Actually if I ever found myself single again, it could still pretty easily happen. Women---you need to be aware that guys like this are out there, lurking, and that many of the guys in your life secretly harbor many of these same thoughts and beliefs. Guys (especially you single ones)---don’t try to get the message and become a better you, grasp the focus, intensity and gamesmanship Roger brings to the club each and every night. Even if he is a little mis-guided, he got game and you might even learn something---just like Nick. (Hint: Club Time Management)


Friday, November 08, 2002

Today's Virgo horoscope: If you don't feel like working find a fellow Virgo or maybe a Capricorn or Taurus. Many of you would prefer to let go and enjoy more of your life. Cut out of work early if possible. You deserve some extra personal time, considering how dilligent you normally are. Tonight, show off Virgo's lively personality.

Since I was off all last week, I doubt that I'll be leaving work early, but I hope the rest of you Virgos, Capricorns and Tauruses feel free to print this off and use it as your own personal 'Get out of Work Early' pass.

Though I'm slaving away at my desk, it's 65 degrees outside on a bright, remarkably cloudless day, and Don't You Just Know It from the Snatch soundtrack is on the CD player. Yep, it's Friday---and I'll only be pretending to work the rest of the day. The rest of you guys, get the hell out of here!!!

My Bad

So yesterday I was bashing people that started the 'Erin used to be a man' rumors. I chalked most of it up to breast envy. And really who could blame anyone for being envious of the plastic surgery she no doubt worked very hard to pay for.

But last night I tried to watch Survivor: Thailand ojectively and decide for myself. Maybe it's because I (or CBS's cameras) don't usually focus above Erin's shoulders, but what awaited me left me horrified and needing to be held. So Chuay Gum voted off the tribe member with the biggest adam's apple---my former crush, and obviously once male, Erin. My apologies to all those I prematurely and unnecessarily called out yesterday.

But you have to admit that Sook Jai was awfully lucky to win their fourth straight immunity. No, not because crazy, Pet Cemetary Jan picked a crappy team from jump, but because they competed in an underwater challenge (which team can cumulatively hold their breath the longest) and they chose to sit Helen. Hello! Helen's a freaking Navy swim instructor, who's lungs are probably twice the size of little Clay, or crazy Jan's. And now that Brian's forming a friendship with Sook Jai's Jake, it's looking more and more like he'll be around for the final three, as if there was ever any doubt. Who says there's not life after Skinemax?

So what I really needed after a confusing, gender-bending experience on Survivor was to reaffirm my feelings of masculinity. Luckily, the timeless Heather Locklear had a guest appearance on Scrubs where she smacked her own ass no less than six times...Now, that's what I'm talkin' bout.

And as if that wasn't enough I caught J-Lo's new video. The song is stupid, something about "Jenny's ice and Jenny still being from the block" but she's lookin' fee-ine. Appreciate while you can Ben, cuz your days are numbered bro.

Sadly I stayed with MTV a little too long and got this song stuck in my head:

When the last time you heard it like this
Smoke somethin', drink somethin', get ripped
And make the girls in the party just strip
Move ya ass, girl (Get down!)
Only if you know you've arrived
From the club, to the park and ride
How many chicks can you fit in that ride
Put 'em up, homie (Get down!)

And now I hope you do to, cuz if I'm goin' down I'm takin all y'all with me...

People are Stupid

Thursday, November 07, 2002

I don't necessarily think I'm better, smarter, funnier, or more well-endowed than anyone else... Well, yes I do---but I can usually put those feelings of superiority aside and at least fake a sense of appreciation and equality with my fellow peers. But, I've come across some idiots that need to be called out as I sit and stew with my throbbing ankle elevated and on ice...


Until today, I had no idea that my Survivor: Thailand crush (no, not Jan) Erin, has some haters thinking that she's a man, baby! What the F? The reasoning is her Peppermint Patty voice, her too perfect eyebrows, her apparent lack of hips, and that she's got fake ta tas. I'm sorry but I'm not buying it, just like I'll never believe that my crush of the 80's Jamie Lee Curtis was born with a penis... and then the ostrich put his head in the sand. But seriously Santa, I've been pretty good and what I'd reallly like is for Perfect to air right after Survivor on Encore. (singing) "You're the closest thing to Perfect that I've ever had..." (clearing throat) Um, moving on...

Some other idiots are half the people that posted in the letters section of this hilarious, witty, and thought provoking web site I stumbled across today. Please tell me that all of you that follow the link have a decent enough sense of humor and irony that you wouldn't even think of firing off a nasty e-mail... And please tell me that you know how to put me in touch with Sally and know her well enough to encourage her to send me naughty pictures of herself. Mmmmmm, Sally.

Finally, on that same 20/20 I admitted to watching earlier this week one of their stories was all about banning talking on your cell phone while driving... If some dumbass legislator in your area code starts trying to pass similar legislation, let me know about it. I'm all for it, but with the following disclaimers; first- only the idiots that wear the hands free headsets will be subject to fine or criminal action (headsets should be reserved solely for fast food employees and Janet Jackson---I mean 'Miss Jackson' of course), and secondly- reading, applying makeup, talking with your hands, changing clothes, acts of self love, road head, eating, drinking, smoking, rubber necking an accident, rubbernecking a hottie (real or billboard), attempting to read any billboard or homeless person's 'Will Work for ------' sign, changing out a CD, will also be banned activities.

Save the email idiot! I was kidding.... Jeez!

And to the idiot that found this little slice of blog heaven after a Google search for "well hung" and "Boy Meets World" that was wrong, just plain wrong man.

Go Big and Go Home

If I was smart, I would have stayed home last night and watched The Bachelor live and not taped it in favor of getting a pick up hoops run in, and turning my ankle so bad that it might actually be broken. But enough about me.

In case you missed it or had problems with your VCR, this was fantasy date week with the three remaining bachelorettes. Huckleberry Aaron took Gwen to San Francisco (and honestly I can't even remember what they did), Helene to go on a picnic and ride horses in Aspen (sorry there were no Meesh sightings---though she's obviously not sitting at home blogging just yet) and Brooke to name stars (I'm soooooo not joking) in Hawaii. All three ladies had the option to spend the night in individual rooms, but all three wisely (unlike Shannon last year) chose to spend the night together. Like every other date Aaron's been on he utilized the same exact moves he's been working all season, you know the ol' "Let's get you some wine, and slip in to the hot tub" routine. Ugh. Thank goodness he's not being scored on originality. If you can believe that no hot and steamy action was left on the cutting room floor, it appeared as though Gwen was the only one to "go big" letting Aaron get to at least third base, which is very admirable, though my eyes may have been fooling me trying to take in the night-vision effect.

She also went big at "the most dramatic rose ceremony to date" by wearing Aaron's favorite color red. Oh yea one last thing, Gwen was married for about a year when she was 24. Oops! Actually I'm not sure if that was the real reason that got her the boot or not. Maybe Aaron thought she was too easy by letting him get so far with her in the fantasy suite after only knowing him for a month and a half. Lesson to all you single ladies out there!

After walking Gwen to her getaway limo he told her that he was actually in love with one of the two remaining bachelorettes. Gwen was a trooper and held herself together just fine, and will no doubt have a number of qualified suitors awaiting her in the Philadelphia area. Otherwise maybe she'll be the second contestant (after Trista) on The Bachelorette. But, I have to wonder if she wasn't truly Aaron's best match.

Not so much because of her positives, but because of Helene and Brooke's negatives. There's something that I couldn't quite put my finger on until last night, but Helene's laugh drives me up a wall. And her nose has a very bothersome appearance of a disturbing downward tilt, kind of like a witch's or a narrow ski slope, no wonder they went to Aspen. And Brooke, aside from her dad being an ex-con and all, is only 22. Can you love at 22 and make a great wife? Sure. Are you usually a much different person at 22 as you are say 28 (like Aaron)? Yep. I once had a friend tell me that if you get married before 25, you might as well have a divorce lawyer on retainer, the theory being that the longer you're out of school and actually living in the real world (no, not MTV's version) that you become mature enough to finally know not only what you're really all about, but what you really want in a spouse, and how much you're willing to invest in a long-term relationship.

And just as I currently give X-Tina the nod over Brittney simply because I've never heard Miss Aguilera say "Y'all", I'm still giving the nod to Helene. But you probably already knew that... Then again if Aaron turns out to be a closet breast man, which he's shown subtle hints of, then all bets are off. Because that's a head to head competition that Helene would definitely not win.

Mo Brynn, Mo Better

Wednesday, November 06, 2002

Seriously, was Brynn even on for more than 1 minute of last night's Real World: Las Vegas??? What the F? I guess I'll let it go since MTV did offer this little slice of blog heaven some free advertising. How else can you explain the following quote from binge and purge Trishelle?:

"It looked like a 3rd leg, it was swinging all around!"

Of course she was actually referring to Alton's endowment but we'll take it. More importantly, will someone please get Trishelle some help and like now. First she doesn't love her daddy, then she lashes out by trying to hump anything and everything in sight, and now she's afraid of putting a couple of pounds on her rockin' bod? Ugh, it's really just too much for one wide-eyed, ample-chested, possibly inbred, definitely illiterate, Southern Belle to handle on her own. Someone please get Dr. Phil on the line.

Don't even get me started about Irulan and Arissa. I don't blame Alton for getting them mixed up. They're both moderately attractive, bi-polar, hypocritical, opinionated, and enjoy cigarettes only secondly to sleep. At least Arissa was willing to offer a little support to Throw it Up Trishelle. Yes I realize that nickname might be a little crass and insensitive, but she really does have more problems than brains.

If you'll excuse me I need to get back to work. I've got an idea for a new reality television show, the likes of which have never been seen. It's about a chubby blonde who doesn't know she's chubby, so she wears really unflattering clothes, and her momma who is a divorcee more interested in reliving her youth by being one of her daughter's pals rather than a real parental figure, and trying to hit on any and all of her daughter's male friends. The chubby blonde berates her friends to the point that they despise her and are sick of her self-created melodramas involving her abusive, jobless live-in boyfriend, and the other man in her life who she secretly loves but may be less than two weeks away from marrying some other Southern skank.

Oh wait, this isn't original at all---it was one of the vignettes on FM Nation: Mobile. I have such a vulnerability to these truly audacious programs, but I just can't help myself. More importantly if you ever see me in Mobile, Alabama (and based on commercials for next week, Salt Lake City, Utah) please alert the authorities as I've obviously been kidnapped and taken across state borders without my consent.

On the tube tonight: The Osbournes answer some questions from Babwa Wawa, and the most dramatic rose ceremony ever, and the toughest decision Aaron has ever had to make on The Bachelor.

Lie, lie, lie

Tuesday, November 05, 2002

First I'll defend myself for watching 20/20 last night since I'm not really a King of Queens guy, and I was simply passing time while waiting patiently for Monday Night Football's kickoff.

But, I did catch Justin Timberlake going one on one with Babwa Wawa. In no particular order here's what Justin had to say: He owns over 500 pairs of shoes, he likes a girl with "junk in the trunk", he has never lip-synched, and he coyly tried to say that he and Brittney never got dirrty. Alright, so I believe the part about the shoes.

Other than that, dude you're going on prime time with Barbara freakin' Walters! This is where you spill your guts, lay it all on the line, shed a few tears, and most importantly sell a boatload of records as your solo debut ridiculously titled Justified gets coincidentally dropped this week. We've seen you on the MTV Awards, we know what lip-synching sounds like compared to those acts that don't wear headsets and try to get in an aggressive aerobic workout during their performance. We know that you and Brittney were lying about not being a couple when you first started dating, then lied when you were about to break up, then you both went on the record and said that yes indeed you did do a little premarital mounting, so why bother to tell us differently now?

I don't like to sound like I'm hatin' on a guy that in the last three months bagged Janet Jackson, Alyssa Milano, X-Tina, and a host of no named hardbodies, but give me a break oh curly-haired one of marginal talent. There's absolutely no shame in bringing a little truth to your fans. A simple, "The dumbass matching denim idea? Yea that was Brittney. If that wasn't bad enough then she cheated on me, broke my heart, and now I'm here to remind you of the pain she left when she went away...Oh by the way, she makes the weirdest faces during sex and sounds a lot like the beginning of Oops, I Did It Again when I was really workin' it, and I've never lip-synched but I'm pretty sure that both Lance and Joey do" would have done just fine.

Anyway, good luck with that Michael Jackson tribute look you've got goin' on. I hope that works out for ya.

One Week

Monday, November 04, 2002

One week since you looked at me, threw your arms in the air and said you're crazy...

I've been back for 24 hours and I'm finally starting to feel caught up enough to post something new. Honest to God I had 286 e-mails in my inbox and only 5 of them weren't from Classmates or Planet Alumni, I'm beginning to wish I'd been homeschooled. I'm also wondering how I got on the Viagara/Penis Pump marketing lists. Now if they could share some penis reduction tips or products, than I might have some interest. I've always dreamed that a safe, inexpensive procedure would somehow be developed that could get me down to around 9 to 9.5". Man that would be nice. I'd be a little less intimidating to the ladies, and probably not have to keep a tailor on retainer for my boxers, gym shorts, and swim trunks. And I probably wouldn't have to go to the chiropractor every other week either. Oh well, a too-well-hung-of-a-guy can dream, can't he?

I'd love to take this opportunity, fresh back from a 7 day stay in partly sunny, and always 80 degreed Orlando to break down the Bachelor and Survivor episodes from last week, but someone wasn't smart enough to change the time on his VCR to accomodate the daylight savings time switch. Doh! So really, if I were to get out the telestrator and start breaking down the Brooke vs. Gwen vs. Helene debate it would really just be a guess. But if you held a gun to my head, I'd probably go with Brooke today.

I'm really more upset that I missed out on Survivor's Erin in the body paint episode. Let's just say that had yours truly been in Thailand, with body paint, and booze and my girl Erin, that this season would be a whole lot more interesting. Like PG-13 interesting if you know what I mean.

I'm actually getting a little broken up just thinking of exactly what I missed, so let's move on to something else.

X-tina's on the cover of Rolling Stone----though it'd be cooler had it been Jam Master Jay. I must admit that the senseless killing of Jay has affected me even more than either Tupac or Biggie, or even the early death of Eazy-E. I attended a predominantly white high school smack dab in the middle of the country, and while my peers were listening to Quiet Riot, Bon Jovi, Ratt, and Poison I was kickin it to New Edition, Run DMC and the Beastie Boys. I'm schooled enough in the rap game to know that without Jam Master Jay there would probably be no Beasties, so for that I'm very thankful. But his influence on hip-hop's transition to the mainstream runs so much deeper, of course starting with the Aerosmith collaboration and no doubt inspiring countless acts of today outside the rap industry like Fatboy Slim and Beck.

Did you know the adidas sans shoelaces and all black leather look was his, and solely his? I'd like to say I was cool enough to pull that off, but I was really kickin' the Oxford Blues two polos, collars up, with the pinch rolled jeans, and loafers with no socks. But I can still recite every word in beat to It's Tricky. Sigh. He's gone. And it's like that, and that's the way it is.

So, let me tell you about Disney World. I'd like to say that I could get my hands on Mountain Dew or Red Bull during my stay, but that would be a lie. I'd like to say that I didn't see any toddlers on child leashes, but that too would be a lie. And if I told you that after spending seven days with the in-laws, a 3-year old nephew, and an unexpected visit from Aunt Flo (not my aunt mind you) that I'm now back to work and blogging completely invigorated, refreshed and relaxed ready to tackle the remaining days of 2002, well that too would be a little bit of a fib. Whatever happened to lounging by the pool and soaking up rays, why do we have to stand in line for Mickey's rides and pay every step of the way? Damn you, Mickey----damn you straight to hell!!!

Alright, so that's probably a little harsh. But more importantly, I'm back. Back without shoelaces. And I promise you'll never have to go seven days without me again... I'm sure you're feeling blessed, so make sure to give me credit for the extra hop in your step the rest of the day.