Puntabulous

There was really no point to this post. It was just fun to draw giant rampaging celebrities. Move along.

My face is so greasy.

How greasy is it?!

My face is so greasy…

If I were to slide down a Slip-and-Slide on my face, I would slide down so fast, I’d create a sonic boom. (And I wouldn’t even need to run any water over the slide first.)

I’m the mysterious butter sauce they put on movie theater popcorn.

There is a special foundation established to knit sweaters for penguins who get caught in my oils.

For more Puntabulous is an Oily Mother Fucker, click HERE and HERE.

To learn more about knitting sweaters for penguins caught in oil spills, click HERE.

As I’ve already said, I really hate the whole Abercrombie franchise, but I got to thinking, I hate a lot of things! And I feel the need to share those things with the world! So here are the top ten general hates of…bum bum bum! Olivia!

1. One of the things I hate more than ANYTHING in the world, almost, is related to Myspace. I hate people who post fifteen bulletins a day about nothing, or even worse, a bulletin about/to one person fifteen times. You take up my bulletin space, I like variation there. Also included in this hate category are those who post chain bulletins. I am guilty of pointless bulletin posting, I’ll admit it, but it’s maybe one bulletin about nothing every two to three weeks. Not fifteen a night. That’s just madness.

2. People that chew with their mouths open, and when they have it pointed out to them, they do a “funny” obnoxious exaggerated open mouthed chewing thing. It’s not funny. It’s pretty bad for my spirit, you crush it every time you do this.

3. People that act like reading is for idiots. If you are saying this, chances are, you’re the idiot. Reading exercises your brain. That’s why when I use a word such as “conspicuous” you don’t know what it means. I knew that word when I was eight, how’s that non-readers?! It means noticable, bitches.

4. When you firmly say something such as “No one can come in, unless you are here for the meeting” yet the guy that is just slightly bigger than you but certainly stupider still pushes past you and tries to procede with whatever his stupid oaf self wanted to do, which was play computer games. And then get kicked out anyway.

5. People that decide to have an opinion before researching or at least sort of looking into a matter. THEN tell you how wrong you are when you disagree with them, spewing out things that aren’t true.

6. This is more of a rhetorical question type thing- why would you own a car for a good, long time, and not clean it? Let me rephrase it, clean it when it’s dirty?! I mean really dirty, like, some weird stain on the middle seat belt in the back seat? And some grimey stuff in the center boxy thing? And why would you not do so if you were trying to sell it to me? (OH YEAH! I got a new car! It’s an old Jeep Cherokee, and I look super cool in it.)

7. I also hate people that decide to tell you about how terribly or how you aren’t doing something, while they are worse or not doing something themselves. This is even worse when you are doing a thing or doing a thing well. Then you have to bust some heads.

8. Possibly the thing I hate most. When you say you love something, someone, or make a casual joke or comment, then some terrible, horrible ass of a person decides to either express their hatred of said thing or person, or make a comment about how they hate the basis of your comment or joke. Example: I say, “Hey, it’s 10:10 AM, make a wish. Haha.” ten second pause. Terrible person, “I hate it when people say to make a wish on something like five fifty-five or ten ten. It’s eleven eleven. People should get it right.” Then they looked right at me. First of all, it’s not like I’m going, “COME! The time wish fairy is upon us! Wish! Wish!” Second of all, I hate you.

9. I hate a lot of people who get boob jobs. They say it’s for more self-confidence. It’s always “With these new D’s I can go out and feel good about myself! With my small chest, I had no confidence.” I have small boobies, and I like them that way. I have plenty of confidence. I want to say to those women who get giant, giant boobs, “Okay, you have new boobs, but maybe you had no confidence because of your scary face. Now when small children see you in the street, they run from both the boobs and the face. Get those things taken out.”

10. I’ll tell you one thing I DON’T hate, Demetri Martin. Sorry to break the ten things I hate, but I LOVE that man. I’m fine with the sixteen year age difference, so fine with it. If you haven’t seen his special that was on Comedy Central Sunday, I highly and strongly recommend you check that out. It’s not just dull old stand-up stuff, he sets a lot of it to music and that’s pretty wow. If he ever had a singing CD out, I’d buy it. I’d buy fifty, and rent a helicopter, and fly over Somalia, throwing them out to the hungry Somalian children. Just because.

So you ask “Why, dearest Olivia, why do you hate these shopping destinations so?” Well, I will tell you.

First of all, it’s The Man. The Man that puts you down, you know the one. The Man controls these two stores, and I’m not a fan of The Man.

But the main reason, the most obvious reason, is because you can smell the store in a mall, two stores away. And I’m talking two stores away like big two stores, maybe a Gap and a Banana Republic away, you know, bigger stores. Not some tiny candle store. I hate candle stores too though. Anywho, that smell, that strong odor of way, way, WAY, too much perfume/cologne sprayed about. This stench hits you and you feel as if you’ve been bitch-slapped by it! And that’s not the worst part!

The worst part is walking in, then you come close to suffocating. Every time I go into either of the two stores I come out with a headache and feel a bit dizzy. They are numbing your senses so that you will buy their twenty five dollar underwear. What terrible people.

Speaking of the people, the people! The folks that work there most of the time are all up in your face half the time, or can’t seem to find the time to help you the other half. I’m all “I need help” and they’re all “hold your damn horses little lady, I’m straightening shirts!” And then I’m all “Whatev.” and they’re all “Oh no you didn’t.” (Not really). Anywho, I don’t like that in a salesperson. I like one that sort of sits to the side and watches you, but not in a creepy way, and when you get that confused look on your face, they come to your aid.

Also, and not meaning to sound like an old person, but really. Their music is way too loud! I can’t hear anything in there. My phone rang three times, and I didn’t hear it! Have you heard my phone ring? It’s annoying! I tried recording a song off of my ipod onto it, and it’s fuzzy. Great song though.

Now, after all this angry ranting, I’ll leave you with a little sumthin-sumthin; it’s a picture my Grandma took of Wilbur the puppy who they puppy-sat for a bit in August, enjoy!

For more amazing pictures like the one above, you can click HERE.

Hey folks, Craig here. In the same vein as Puntabulous Counter Puntabulous, I wish to present you with an opposing viewpoint to Olivia’s post from yesterday! Being a man isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be!

Exhibit A-Strength
Yes, STATISTICALLY boys are stronger than girls. But what about those few of us, like the courageous salmon, who swim against the current? Who don’t give in to society’s pressures? Who can still, at the age of 25, lose an arm wrestling match to his older sister? Brave souls such as these face persecution each and every day. It’s okay if a girl asks someone to open the pickle jar for her. It’s almost expected. And hey, if she can open it herself, more power to her. But boys can’t do that. Not without facing the cold, judging stares of his peers (and sister).

Exhibit B-Crying
Say you’re a girl who gets pulled over for speeding. The police officer is a gentleman of about 45. He comes over to your car, and you are so extremely nervous, that you burst out crying. Through your tears, you explain how sorry you are, and how you were just in a rush to get home, and how you’ll never be able to explain this to your parents. The police officer looks upon you and sees the face of his own daughter, who just happens to be your age. He thinks how he would beat the crap out of anyone who made her cry the way he made you cry. And takes pity upon you, dries your tears, kisses you on the forehead and lets you off with a warning.

Now repeat the same situation for a boy. Tears pouring forth don’t remind the police officer of his daughter, they remind him of a pansy boy. There is no pity, there is no tear-drying, and there is CERTAINLY no kiss on the forehead. There is only the you, him, and the ticket, which he has surely written you.

Exhibit C-Sex
Let’s face it, guys are hot. Well actually, a lot of guys are hot. Some guys aren’t. But there’s always someone uglier than them thinking they’re hot and wanting to sex them up. My point is: girls get to have sex with boys. Yes, yes, I can have sex with guys too, but not without sick and outrageous accusations thrust upon me such as “gay”, “homo”, or the worst of them all: the F word, which is so heinous that I had to put it in inviso-text (highlight to read, if you dare!): “fairy”.

If I were a woman-
I would be the most fabulous woman that ever was! I would wear outrageous outfits! I would be a performer! Probably in a seductive, smoke-filled lounge! Perhaps even in a gay club! My stage name would be Cruella Summers! Oh wait, that’s what it would be like if I were a drag queen.

If I were a woman, I would totally be Murphy Brown, serious, award-winning journalist with a flare for wit! I would live in a fabulous house with a live in man-servant/painter who would be a million times hotter than Eldin (I thought his name was Elvin, but IMDB says Eldin. Who in the world is named Eldin? On second thought, who in the world is named Elvin? He’s not a Tolkien species after all!). I would be invited to all the big, important parties, and I would know the proper pronunciation of Chechnya, Chech-nee-YA, Chech-NEE-ya.

Many a time, I think to myself, “Wow, this would be so much easier if I were just a man.” So I have decided to weigh the factors and find out, really, if it would be easier to be a boy!

Exibit A-Hair
Not only the hair on your head, but the hair that grows on your legs and under your tiny little woman arms. It’s stressful! Tonight I tried finding a decent haircut because I really, really need one. I just can’t find one that I’m totally in love with. I found one I like (Sarah Chalke at the Scrubs DVD launch party) and so I figure that will work, but it would have saved me an hour and a half of intense Google-ing if I had been born an Eli instead of an Olivia. As for the shaving, it takes intense concentration as well as time to shave a leg well, and sometimes, I want to be a hippy. Or a man.

Exibit B-Strength
Many a time I find myself far too weak to move large items or beat a helpless nerd up. If I were a man, I like to believe I’d be a semi-muscular man with a faint natural six pack, and I wouldn’t beat up the nerds. I’d be the nerd protector! Like a superhero!

Exibit C-Pregnancy
Everyone is always very overjoyed about someone having a little baby in their belly. I figure I’d be happy, but also somewhat peeved that I, not my baby-daddy, was in the position of incubator, being forced to carry a living, wiggling thing around in my belly for nine months, consipating me, giving me stretch marks, and at the end of it all, squeezing through my nether-regions screaming and crying, while I would also be screaming and crying seeing as a tiny but still large creature was coming out of me.

If I were a man-
I would be a gay man. And my boyfriend would be Callum Blue. We would meet one cold, foggy morning at the airport in Taiwan. We would both be arriving to the location of a new feature film, starring him with myself as the director. We’d exchange curious glances and fall deeply in love while we chatted on the bus taking us to the small village by the sea where we would be shooting the film. He’d invite me back to his trailer and we’d have tea and crumpets. We’d stay up talking for hours and eventually fall asleep in eachothers’ arms. And we’d adopt a little baby from some random country and name it something crazy like Fantasy, or Han Solo, or Tree. And we’d also have a duck farm, I don’t know why, it just seems to go well with the fantasy (not the baby).

For more Puntabulous Adventures of Super Viagra CLICK HERE!

Sorry for the lack of an original post today. My time was spent working on the new layout (WHICH I GOT HERE!), which I love a whole heck of a lot. I’d make out with it, but pressing my lips against the screen chaps my lips. I still need to figure out how to get it to display whether the post is mine or Olivia’s, but in the meantime, you’ll just have to guess! It will probably be difficult to tell since we both have the mentalities of 17 year old girls.

Instead, I present you with this for your enjoyment:

With many fabulous shows taking breaks, I, as a sane person, believe they must be doing something well worth the emotional anguish the lack of good TV is causing me. So here are my hopes/predictions of what amazing things they must be doing while taking crazy long breaks:

Heroes- There had better be some naked Peter scenes, maybe he absorbs the power to be invisible, strips down to complete invisiblity, then loses the power? I like the sound of that! And I’d like credit for that idea should they use it. I’d like to see more of Sylar without the hat/pretty bad outfit he has on. Put a sweater and cords on the man, and BAM, I don’t mind that he’s a bad guy! Unless he kills Peter, then it’s over between us. I’d even take Issac the dirty painter naked, just help me out a little.

Lost- Again, there had better be lots and lots of nudity upon the return of Lost. Preferably Sawyer, Jack, and maybe even Jin. We got to see a half-naked Sawyer, but a more naked Kate. I don’t want to see naked Kate, I don’t care about naked Kate, Sawyer has a nice bod goin’ on there! He even looks good all dirty and cage-sexy. Rawr.

Daybreak- Didn’t take a long break, but it was long enough. I’d like it to go to a new day. Really. It’s the same thing over and over, but with a minor new thing. It’s driving me ten kinds of crazy. And maybe some nekkid Adam Baldwin, I’ve had the hots for him since Firefly. I will have to admit though, he was way, way, way more attractive in Firefly and Serenity. I like my men in westerny/dusty/futuristic-ish clothes more than suits.

Scrubs- It’s only been a few weeks, but SERIOUSLY! What’s going to happen?! Is the new pregnant by Zach Braff chick going to be a permanent character?! Are they REALLY going to have a baby?! I don’t think I can see it. I’m freaking out. And I’ve seen Zach Braff semi-nude, and don’t think I want to see any more of him, he’s pretty hairless and white.

Lastly, Smallville- Okay, not too many people I know really watch Smallville, but it’s totally one of my favorite shows of all time. I have the hots for Lex Luthor, and now the Green Arrow, and now I see they’re bringing even MORE superheroes onto the show? God help me, if they have a part for Wonder Woman available, I had better audition, because they have some serious man candy on that set. And the superhero ones are pretty built, they’re no skinny white Zach Braff types. (But I really do sort of love skinny pale Zach Braff types…)

Now since I have reached a point where I’m faced with the issue of which type of men I like better, skinny Zachs or built supermen, I’ll have to address that problem another time. Boggles the mind, which do you guys like?

WARNING: YOU WILL PROBABLY THINK LESS OF ME AFTER READING THIS!

I was talking to a friend the other day and we discussed how you can fall in love with literary characters. Me, being the complete dork I am, fell head over heels for Anakin Solo. Not to be confused with Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Solo is the third child of Han and Leia Solo, after their twins Jacen and Jaina. The Solo children obviously weren’t in the movies and therefore have no representation in real life. But the way Anakin Solo was writen, you just knew he was the most gorgeous Jedi to ever have lived.

Not only was he gorgeous, but he was the most powerful of the young Knights of the New Jedi Order that was established after the fall of the Empire. In the books, Jacen was the intellectual child, Jaina was the amazing pilot, and Anakin was the most powerful in the Force, not to mention bravest.

In the books, Anakin dated another Jedi named Tahiri. I wanted to hate Tahiri for stealing my man, but she was adorable, so it was damn near impossible.

Then came the book “Star by Star“. By this time, Anakin had stepped into a leadership position. Did I mention he was only 17 at the time? Laws are different in the Galaxy Far Far Away, so my complete and utter admiriation is completely within the legal parameters of the Galactic Alliance. I was also 19 at the time the book was published, making the age difference less icky.

Anyway, they had definitely set him up to be the next Luke Skywalker. He lead a mission to destroy a base where an intruding species from another galaxy had set up a colony of Jedi-hunting creatures known as Voxyn.

During this mission, the team of Jedi are overrun, and Anakin sacrifices himself to allow everyone else the time they need to get free. Right before he dies, while he is fighting back the overwhelming number of enemies, he sends a telepathic message to his brother Jacen: “Kiss Tahiri for me”.

How fucking romantic is that? If I’m lucky, I get a slap on the ass, and Tahiri has romantic wishes telepathically sent about her from the most powerful Jedi in the Galaxy DURING HIS DEATH!

Seriously, I had to put the book down for a good while before I was able to continue reading. Sad I know, but tis the life of a lovelorn gay science fiction dork.

So now I turn to you, dear reader, have you ever been in love with a literary character without the aid of a movie representation? And don’t pick Mr. Darcy. We all know that only stemmed from the Colin Firth wet shirt scene in the A&E version of “Pride and Prejudice“.