Allie: Did you hear the news?
Ryan: Most likely.
[Silence]
Allie: That’s it?
Ryan: What’s what?
Allie: That’s the end of the dialogue? You don’t want to know what the news is?
Ryan: I told you, I would assume I already know it.
Allie: So you’re not even curious?
Ryan: Not really.
Allie: You suck.
Ryan: I’m sorry.
Allie: Does anyone want to know what the news is?
Adam: I do.
Allie: Yes! Thank you! Okay, so they’ve decided when Alias will start up again!
Ryan: I told you I already knew it.
Adam: That’s it? That’s your news?
Allie: Yeah, doesn’t it rock?
Adam: No, no it doesn’t. That definitely was not worth the trip. I’m going back to Salem.
[Exit Adam]
Allie: Hey, he left without hearing when it is going to start.
Ryan: I don’t think he cares.
Allie: He wanted to be in a dialogue. The least he could have done was pretend to be interested.
Ryan: Maybe he should have picked a more interesting dialogue to pop up in.
Allie: Shove it.
Ryan: Consider it shoved.
Clio: I want to know when Alias will premiere!
Ryan: Wait a minute… you can’t make Clio talk.
Allie: I can do whatever I want. I am the hand of god in this blog and I will use my powers as I see fit.
Ryan: Yeah, but employing the dog? Don’t you think that’s a little desperate?
Allie: Careful, don’t offend the hand of god.
Ryan: Or what, you’ll cut me out of your lame-ass dialogues?
Allie: You’re going to regret that. Michael, please show Ryan the way out.
[Michael Vartan grabs Ryan and roughly forces him toward the door.]
Ryan: You can’t do this! This is fictional!
Allie: Oh yeah, tell it to the bruises, Jacko!
[Ryan is forced out the door by the beautiful hands of greek-god-Vartan.]
Michael: Allie, I was wondering if you could tell me when Alias premieres.
Allie: They didn’t tell you? I’m surprised. You do star in it.
Michael: Oh, they told me, but I’d love to hear it from your sweet lips.
[Allie blushes]
Allie: Oh, okay. If you really want to.
Michael: It’s more than a desire. It’s a necessity.
Allie: Well, they’re moving it to Wednesdays after Lost. So it will begin on January 5th at 9pm.
Michael: You have a way of making even the most mundane things poetic.
Allie: Aw shucks.
Michael: Would you like to run away with me?
Allie: I thought you’d never ask.
Michael: No you didn’t.
Allie: Okay, you’re right. I knew it would happen sooner or later.

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I don’t know if it’s just Los Angeles, or just The Cheesecake Factory, but let me tell you – that place is a well-oiled machine. When Ryan and I went there the other night (yes, the faux-Vartan night) we learned first hand their waiting process. First, you go and give them your name. Then, they punch a few numbers in on the computer and they give you one of those plastic doohickeys* that lights up and vibrates when your table is ready. So, we go wait outside, like good little patrons, and forty-five minutes later the device starts flashing. We go in the restaurant (or factory, I suppose) and hand the doohickey to the woman at the counter, who then proceeds to tell us to “wait over there.” She punches something into the computer, and hands the device to the woman behind her. Woman #2 puts the device away, reads info on her computer (seriously, they were two feet apart… just talk to one another) and then writes the name Ryan on a slip of paper and places it on a counter with ten other slips of paper. Apparently, we weren’t ready to be seated, just ready to be moved into the next corral. We are now standing with ten other disillusioned parties who are also still waiting to be seated. As we are on our second wait, a man approaches woman #1 with the typical, “You said our table would be ready in forty-five minutes and we’ve been waiting over an hour!” Woman #1 asks for his name, punches it into her computer and says, “Sir, it says here that you have been waiting for thirty minutes and that your table will be ready in fifteen.” That’s right. He was bitch-slapped. He walked back outside with his tail between his legs. Don’t mess with the machine, Boyo.

As Ryan and I were walking out of Target this evening, we passed a woman letting two young girls out of her car. The girls could not have been older than thirteen. As they got out of the car, one of the girls yells oh-so-politely** “Mom, my cell is still in the back of the car, if you want to call me, just call Jenny’s.” Excuse me? You are twelve years old, girlies… what do you need a cell phone for? How far away from home can you get without your parents driving you anyway? Shouldn’t they know where you are without having to call? How often are you left alone unsupervised and away from a landline? What is this world coming to?

I find my answer as about two minutes later I walked by a woman and her nine-year-old daughter. The child was sporting a Louis Vuitton purse. Please. What is she carrying in there? Her Barbie chapstick? As I examine the contents of my purse I find: lipstick, checkbook, wallet, cell phone and car keys. I would assume that little Sally is carrying none of these things. She doesn’t even have a driver’s license or credit card, so she doesn’t need a wallet. Why does she need a designer handbag? If she feels the need to clutch something, how about Hello Kitty? It’s much less expensive.

*As I type the word “doohickies” into my computer, I find that is incorrect spelling. It is actually “doohickeys.” I guess when it’s a fictitious word, you aren’t supposed to change the ‘y’ to an ‘ie’ when making it plural.

**Not really politely as much as rudely

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Yesterday I donned my background cap and took the set of CBS’ JAG by storm. Oh yes, I worked JAG. (Lauren, please wipe up that drool. We don’t need to see that.) Sadly, however, I did not work with Catherine Bell or David James Elliot. I suppose the best is still yet to come.

So now that you know I’m not going to regale you with tales of celebrities (unless you count Bud and his dad, Big Bud, among those ranks), prepare yourself to be regaled with tales of the freaks that are my fellow background actors.

Let me begin with the group I spent most of my time with. Somehow I ended up sitting at a booth the entire day (in holding – offstage) with Danny, Renatta and Terri. Danny was way cool. He was incredibly friendly, and had a lot of background/acting experience that he was eager to share. He gives seminars on breaking into the world prepared, apparently, and he basically gave the three of us a mini one. I took notes for Ryan.

For those of you who went to WU with me, to describe Renatta, I would have to say she was a slightly sedated Briana. Yeah, yikes. She even looked like her. The sad part is she wasn’t the most annoying. The most annoying was Terri.

Terri was a busty size 8. I tell you this only because she said it so many times that it was drilled into my head and it is what I assume she would like to be described as. She was constantly posing the question, “Where is the line between vanity and self-confidence?” I assume she wanted us to tell her that she hadn’t crossed it, but I wasn’t about to lie to the girl. She kept saying, “I’m not vain, I just love my body.” She also informed us (on more than one occasion) that you would never see her without a shirt that revealed her cleavage. She worked hard for her body and she was not about to leave the house in an outfit that did not reveal her best feature. She showed us a picture that she carried in her wallet that was taken at Glamour Shots in the mall. In this picture she was a platinum blonde (in reality she was a brunette, but in another picture she was a redhead) with a red strapless dress, leaning over a column with her elbows together. Yessir, she has a large chest.

After viewing her array of pictures of herself, we questioned her constant change of hair colors. She said that it is, indeed, trying on the poor little strands, but that she treats her hair right. She likes to smother it in mayonnaise and sit in a shower cap, letting the oils soak in. The result is a head of luscious, supple locks. The only negative side effect is that ranch dressing doesn’t taste as good anymore. Apparently, once mayo has soaked into your pores the taste is highlighted in all of your mayo-based edibles. Note to self.

The thing that was most irritating about Terri was her constant stream of “facts.” She likes to know things on a molecular level. For visuals she would ball up her fist (the molecule) and smother it with her other hand (the offending chemical). Did you know that MSG is found in 90% of your food whether there is a warning on it or not? Oh, yes it is. There are certain chemicals that combine to create it. You have to look at the labels to see if those chemicals are ingredients. (For the complete list, feel free to ask Terri.) And Equal and other artificial sweeteners will kill you. Antiperspirant is the real devil, though. It has aluminum in it, which plugs up your pores. She uses natural deodorant to avoid such cloggage.

Imagine a stream of information, including, but not limited to, these tidbits, presented to you at a very high pitch by a pair of large boobs. That is what my day was like. Too tell you the truth, I have no doubt that most of her information is right-on. But really, everything is going to kill you eventually, so you might as well spend you life without pit stains. It was impressive how much information she spewed. I guess the key is to type the list of ingredients on any food you eat or product you use into Google. Then you can find out all you need to know. That’s what she does before she uses anything new.

While she was ranting on the horrors of aspartame, the AD came into the room and said, “We need some people to sit at the bar. Does anyone smoke?” With the enthusiasm of a kindergartener asked who wants an extra Jello cup, Terri waved her arms in the air and shouted, “I do! I do!” After filming several scenes in which she lit up, she went outside to have a smoke break.

She came back to our table later and began her antiperspirant spiel again (because a new person had pulled a chair up to our booth and the poor girl probably had no knowledge of the horrors of the Degree she applied every morning) and Danny and I, in amazing unison, shouted incredulously, “But you smoke!” Terri looked at us like we were aliens and countered that yes, she did smoke, but her lungs got just as polluted by breathing the air when driving behind a bus. Danny asked her if she rolled down her window and stuck her head out to better inhale the exhaust. She rolled her eyes and informed us that the world is a polluted place so smoking wasn’t doing her that much more damage. I told her that was like saying, “I already have antiperspirant in my armpits, I might as well apply it to every inch of my skin.” She told me that it was nothing like that, and that it was a choice she made. Danny and I just looked at each other and changed the subject.

I also spent some time at the bar between two sailors, Bench and Jeffery. Jeffery was very annoying, baby faced, and followed me everywhere. I wanted to punch him. Does that make me a bad person?

Also irritating and freaky was Michael. For those of you who went to WU, again, I can best describe him by saying he was very similar to Bennett. I’m not kidding. People like that exist. He was very weird. At one point he stole some papers from the second AD’s desk. They were crew info sheets or something. He took the papers to his little chair and started reading them. The AD walked by and saw that this kid has his papers, snatched them away and said, “Where did you get those? These are confidential!” To which Michael just stared blankly. He also spent a great deal of time in his chair rocking back and forth like a crazy person. It’s too bad I can’t describe him better to you guys. You really had to be there.

So the scenes we shot took place in Big Bud’s Bar, which not only served drinks, but provided the patrons with entertainment. Specifically, female lingerie wrestlers. Yeah. I am sure that they are going to have to do some cutting of the footage, because I saw plenty that was x-rated. Not NC-17... X. I swear. Eww… It should have been called Big Bud’s Vu Show.

Anyhoo… that’s what happened yesterday. You wanna hear what didn't happen? I didn't get to work on Alias because I was working when the call was on the line. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, it is now official. The casting company I work for is the one that books background for Alias. And I didn't get to do it. Bugger. What makes it even worse was that Alias was filming outside Matt’s office yesterday and I didn’t get to go stalk the set because I was working JAG. Grr… Vartan was there. He bumped into Victoria and smiled at her.

Oh, to be Victoria. *Sigh* Although, next time Vartan apologizes for something, you should definitely say that you don't forgive him, and that the only way he can pay you back for the harm he has caused would be to go out on a date with a certain individual you happen to know that is a big fan. What were you thinking???

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For all of you who wonder what I would do if I actually saw Michael Vartan, I can tell you. I’d flip out, pee my pants, and die of heart failure.

Ryan and I were at The Cheesecake Factory, seated at a two-person booth in a row of similar booths. After our waiter introduced himself to us as Chadwick, he moved to the couple behind me. The gentleman and I were back to back and he was dining with a young lady. Ryan and I were minding our own business, munching (conservatively) on the free sourdough bread when my ears perked up. My ears only perk up at things involving/related to/concerning Alias, of course, so the particular trigger in this case was, predictably, “Jennifer Garner.” When the name crossed the waiter’s lips, I told Ryan to shush and strained to hear the conversation. Regrettably, the only person I could hear was said waiter, and I only heard parts of what he was saying. This is what I caught:

“…the one with Jennifer Garner?”
“I haven’t seen it on. Is it still running?”
“…Sunday nights. I’ll have to set my TiVo.”

After hearing this, I began trying to figure out why C-Dub-Diggity* would talk to these patrons about Alias. The only logical conclusion, like duh, is that these people are somehow involved with the show. While whispering with Ryan, he confirmed what I already held in my heart to be true - the waiter must have recognized one of them. Why else would they talk about the show? From Ry’s viewpoint he could see the lady – no one he recognized. So, we decided it must be the guy. My back was to him, and his back was to us, so we were really shit out of luck. Not one to pass up the opportunity to spot an Alias star, I wrenched my neck around and “casually” looked across the restaurant. I caught mystery man just as he was turning, and saw a brief flash of his profile. What did I see???? A hook nose!

At this point I started hyperventilating and informed Ryan that he had to go check it out… go to the bathroom or something. He stood up, and after realizing that the restrooms were in the opposite direction, he decided to take his phone and go outside to “check his messages.” He did so, and I was left at the table, sweating, panting and completely flipping out. I may very well be back-to-back with Michael Vartan. It is during this period that I decided The Cheesecake Factory is my favorite restaurant and I should come to this particular one every day for the rest of my life.

Ryan was taking for-freaking-ever. I didn’t actually expect him to check his messages. I expected him to walk out the door and turn right back so he could walk to our table and ID my back-buddy. I was contemplating calling his cell and telling him to haul his ass back when he returned to the table. I looked at him anxiously, trying to keep my visible shaking to a minimum, when he looked at me sadly and shook his head.

At least I learned a valuable lesson in all this – I am not cut out for celebrity sightings. But I’m still going to actively seek out Vartan. I mean, come on… wouldn’t you?

*Upon finding out that our waiter’s name was Chadwick, I asked Ryan what he could do if he had such a horrid name. I mean, wouldn’t anyone sane just shorten it to Chad? We thought other nicknames that were an improvement were: C-Dawg, C-Diggity, C-Dubba, and, my favorite, C-Dub-Diggity.

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Ryan is obsessed. Seriously, he can’t stop. It’s an addiction and I just don’t know what to do about it. He is constantly looking at himself in the mirror. Our closet doors are mirrored and he sits at his computer, or on the bed, or sometimes just stands there and looks at himself. The worst is when we’re sitting and having a conversation – does he look at me? No. Why would he do that when there is something more attractive to fixate on?

Celebrity sighting. Oh, that’s right. We were in the Gap with Abigail Breslin. Who is she? Well, she’s a child star, according to her website. She was the little girl on Signs with Mel Gibson. That’s not why I recognized her. I remembered seeing her on Law & Order once. She was a little girl who had two moms due to some fertility clinic mishap. The reason I remember her is because she sobbed practically the entire episode. Kyle and I were making fun of her… we figured the casting agency was like, “Give us a human sprinkler,” and they landed her. No acting skills, just the ability to spew salty tears at the drop of a hat. Anyway, she was accompanying her mom. No paparazzi. Apparently “child star” doesn’t warrant constant attention.

On our way out of the Gap we saw something interesting. A lady in an SUV was pulling a horse trailer – complete with horse. An ugly white thing, but a horse, nonetheless. What is odd about this scenario is that the woman pulled into a parking spot, got out, and proceeded to go into the shopping center. She went into the Gap and left her palomino in the parking lot. HUH? Did the urge to buy a fitted-tee strike her on the way to the stables? Could she not have stopped another time? Without the horse, perhaps?

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I’ve found my soul mate – it’s Patti. Yes, that’s right. She’ll watch Alias with me. Not only will she watch it, but she will watch numerous episodes in one sitting. Today we watched three (Salvation, The Counteragent and The Passage Part I, for those of you who care – who I am guessing are few). If only Matt didn’t come home and ruin everything. Blast him and his bad taste. I mean, really… who doesn’t want to watch Alias all night? What kind of psycho drugs is he on?

The only problem I can find with my new Alias partner is her misguided interest in Will. Come on, Swill (that’s fan-speak for Syd/Will if you couldn’t decode that on your own) fans went out the door years ago. It’s Syd/Vaughn all the way, baby. Patti keeps calling Vaughn a weenie and saying that he doesn’t know Sydney as well as The Willage Idiot ™ does. To that I say – okay, maybe you’re right. But Vaughn is hot and there are numerous scenes fraught with sexual tension. And his watch stopped the day they met. He’s obviously the man for her. Like, duh, Patti. Like, duh.

At least she’s not Sarkney. I would have to terminate our sessions.

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Alright. Due to excessive interest, I’m going to tell you about my day as a star. Or, not star. Extra. But that’s as close to a star as I’ve come, and you weren’t there, so you don’t know – therefore I’m going to call myself a star. So there. *Sticks out tongue*

Oh, and Ryan was a star too.

Okay, for those of you who don’t know, Ryan and I appeared as “background” (the new word for “extra”) on the set of WB’s The Gilmore Girls. Ryan was slated as “Townsperson” and “Yale Student” and I was hired as a “Waitress”.

Once I got there I stood around for two and a half hours before getting an hour lunch break. After lunch I started to work. We moved from the town (where Ryan had been walking) to the Pub. For a three-page scene we shot the same thing from five different angles. Which would not have taken five and a half hours had Alexis Bledel (the daughter) known her lines. Seriously. The girl was horrible. As you know, if you watch the show, she’s not the best actress. Most of the world wonders why they cast her in the first place, but they don’t even know the half of it. It’s like she doesn’t even try. She just rambles what sort of resembles her lines and tries to pass it off. The script supervisor has got to be dying. Poor guy. Anyway, we did like a fragillion takes just ‘cause she couldn’t make it through without stopping. Which, in itself, would not make her a bitch, but her personality put her over the edge. Talk about your spoiled little brat. Sheesh. Every time they would yell ‘cut’, her wardrobe lady would run (and I mean RUN) to her with a giant fluffy coat and wrap her up. Like the girl wouldn’t last a second longer without dying or something. Once they had to hold for a minute because of a technical problem, and little angel Alexis had to wait for a minute. Then the director yelled, “Come on people, she’s out in the cold! Let’s move!” Like we, the background, hadn’t been freezing our butts off for the past six hours. Plus, she had some little phone thing, or palm pilot – I couldn’t figure it out, and she was playing with it every time she wasn’t filming. Like every second. She was punching in things and talking on it. It was like she couldn’t be without it. If she only spent that time looking at her script.

So, there was a lot of standing, and a lot of repeating. And let me just say it was FREAKING cold. Ryan estimates it was 40 degrees. And I concur. We were dying. And since we were supposed to be inside (when we were actually in a shell of a room) we were not allowed to wear coats or anything. So we just froze to death. My poor fellow waitress was wearing a miniskirt and fishnets. She was suffering. At one point my waitress friend (Michelle) and I were inside the bar while they were filming a street scene. They wanted there to be heads in the windows so the place didn’t look empty. Anyway, we were just sitting inside, being heads and shivering. In an attempt to warm up, we were huddling over little restaurant candles. The prop guys were in there too, just sitting at the bar talking (I don’t know why, but I suppose they had nothing else to do) and they felt so sorry for us that they ended up giving us their jackets and gloves.

So the first pub shot started out with the camera following me as I delivered a tray of beers, but in the end it got cut to just starting with my butt. That’s what the cameraman said. We got to talking (he felt bad for me that I was shivering, plus he wanted to compliment me on my stellar waitressing skills) while we were waiting for bitchass to learn her lines. He said that it looked like the first part would be cut, but my butt would definitely get screen time. So keep an eye out for that. Also, Ryan and I are in the background a lot. He’ll be easy to spot in the pub. He’s playing pool and wearing a Willamette/Griffindor scarf. Then there is another scene were girly and her friend are walking down the street in the dark and people are crossing behind them. Ryan comes out with stumbly/drunk boy and I cross a little later in a bright yellow coat. It’s like we’re famous.

Anyway, Ryan put in a fourteen-hour day and I worked for ten (not counting our lunch break). So it was really cold for a really long time. It wasn’t what I could classify as “fun” but it was a good experience, and I think I’ll do it again. It pays, anyway.

It will air on November 30th at 8pm. I’d recommend taping it if you want to see us, because my guess is you’re going to want to pause it to make sure it’s really us. Plus, if you tape it, then when I write you exactly where we cross the screen, you can go back, watch it, and realize that we’re not really stars.

Points of interest:

- We saw Lauren Graham, Scott Patterson, and Alexis Bledel. Ryan picked up Ms. Graham’s newspaper and I brushed up against Alexis a few times.

- Two of the extras had been paired as a couple on Blind Date and ended up sleeping together but never speaking again. So it was really awkward between them but really funny to watch.

- A good portion of the extras use their free time to hit on the other extras. At least three pairs of them ended up going home together at 1:30am when we finally were released.

Also an interesting thing I learned to notice is that shows really reuse their background people. They bank on the viewers not noticing, but when you look it’s really obvious. Ryan and I watched Friends and Will & Grace yesterday and were watching for background actors. In both shows they had the same people walk by, going the same direction multiple times. It was pretty funny. But it’s true… you don’t notice the extras. Unless, of course, it’s a really hot waitress.

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Allie: Do you ever wonder about bananas?
Ryan: All the time.
Allie: I mean, they’re so easy to peel. The perfect outside protecting the mushy inside. Edible completely separate from the inedible.
Ryan: Why does that confuse you?
Allie: It just doesn’t make sense. And how does that benefit the banana in any way? It’s not like it can peel itself to spread its seed.
Ryan: That sort of thing doesn’t really bother me.
Allie: It doesn’t bother you?
Ryan: It’s a matter of convenience.
Allie: How is that convenient for the fruit itself?
Ryan: You damn evolutionist, you.
Allie: Are you telling me that you believe the banana is so easily peelable because that’s the way God made it?
Ryan: Yup. He wanted to make it easy to eat.
Allie: Oye.
Ryan: That’s why he didn’t make chickens come plucked and pre-cooked. Because we weren’t supposed to eat animals.
Allie: Oh no. You’re telling me that not only are you religious, but you’re also a vegetarian?
Ryan: No.
Allie: Wait, but I though we weren’t supposed to eat animals.
Ryan: That was before Eve ate the apple. We’re clear now.
Allie: Okay, granted, I don’t know the story that well… but I feel like I would have heard the part where God told “Eve” that she could chow down on her furry friends.
Ryan: The bible doesn’t go in depth so much when it comes to the progression of eating. But they didn’t eat animals before the apple, and they did after.
Allie: How do you know that? Does it say that somewhere?
Ryan: God told me.
Allie: Did he speak through George W? Because I must say, I don’t think he’s as much of a direct conduit as he claims.
Ryan: If he is a conduit, someone needs to talk to God about raising his standards.
Allie: And why don’t we talk to America about that while we’re at it.
Ryan: I’m on it. Can I finish my beefstick now?
Allie: Go ahead, my child. Go ahead.

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You’ve got to be shitting me. This is the epitome of patheti-lame. I am seriously feeling nauseous. To 50-odd percent of America I’ve just got to ask – what the hell were you thinking? Take off your blinders and remove your earplugs. The man is an undisputed idiot. And he thinks God talks through him? Well, let me just say I don’t know a thing about God but I would certainly hope that he or she would know how to speak English, Spanish, French, Azeri... an actual freaking language instead of the garbly goop this numps spews. What a dolt. Stupid piece of… HOW COULD YOU VOTE FOR HIM???

And let me talk just a minute about the fact that eleven states (including Oregon) passed a measure that writes discrimination and hatred into the constitution. The fact that we even vote on this bullshit is pure and utter insanity. What infringement on your rightwing religious elitist lives is it for homosexuals to marry? People make me sick! How is it possible in this day and age that we can’t allow everyone the basic decency of human rights? WTF is your problem??? I… ugh… grr… ahhhhhh!!!

I don’t know what incenses me more – that people in this country are so incredibly blind and stupid or that they are narrow-minded bigots.

I can’t even talk anymore. I’ll let others talk for me.

“I hate dumbasses.” -Lauren

“I don’t want to think about it, I’m so depressed.” -Matt

“I'm very f***ing pissed off at our stupid conservative f***ing nation and it's goddamned single mindedness and lunacy.” -Sean

“Where did all the smart people go? Did they move to Canada?” -Dad

“I’m going to throw up.” -Mom

Yeah, Mom, me too. I’ll use the supplied barf bag on my flight to Vienna. I’ve got to get out of this place.

I better wake up tomorrow and find that this got sorted out during the night.

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I’ve decided I’m not incredibly fond of the monster that I have become. Just call me Lazysaurus. Sure, indolence is a virtue. But I think I need to look into having more than one enviable quality. So, in my effort to perk up my future personal ads, I’ve made some November resolutions.

1) Get your lazy good for nothing ass out of bed before 9… or 10. Ten. Definitely ten.
2) Though running in bed is highly amusing, it is not as effective as running around the neighborhood. Give that a try.
3) Because of excess Halloween consumption, candy or chocolate of any form is hereby forbidden for 30 days.
4) Do push-ups every night. Perhaps thirty. Maybe one day you’ll be able to do real push-ups. (Otherwise Arnold has permission to call you a girlie-man.)
5) Only vampires stay awake until 6am. So stop it. You’re not a vampire.
6) Figure out whatever is up with the funk you’re in and snap out of it. The people need their funny blogs. They deserve their funny blogs.
7) Stop making fun of vegetarians. They can’t help it.
8) Stop making fun of Bush fans. They can’t help it
9) Start driving. You’ll never learn how to deal with California drivers or figure out how the hell to get from place to place until you try.
10) Stop using the imaginary brake when Ryan drives. Lord knows it doesn’t work, anyway.
11) Stop watching Matt and Patti through the glass doors while they sleep. One of these days they're going to catch you.

There you have it. I figured if I posted this information, I'd be more likely to follow through. We shall see. I have Ryan tasked to be my personal Hitler. I think he's pumped.

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