Funny Strange is Lori Culwell's blog

My washing machine is broken, and other totally interesting things.

So, about two weeks ago (while I was in the middle of the Busiest Two Months Ever) my washing machine started making this grinding noise that, being an expert washing machine person, I quickly diagnosed as "NOT GOOD."  Of course this is a great time for it to break, because it's been two years since I bought it, and that is just about how long I expected a super-specialized, high efficiency, "is the only one that will fit in the space provided" washing machine to function properly without me having to call in some kind of super-specialized repairman from Mars to repair it.  Just, of course.

Oh, do I sound sarcastic when it comes to appliances and other things not working?  Perhaps that's a side effect of being on the co-op board, where we're always fixing something, or getting someone help to fix something, or voting on how something needs to be fixed.  Of course, on the other hand, this is one of the sort of cool things about being a homeowner.  At least it's my stuff to fix, after all!

I called the place where I got the washer, and since it has been more than a year, they were like "call the warrantee place," and lucky thing I paid for the extended warrantee, because you know they tried to hassle me until I had to yell and insist they send a repairman, because no, unplugging it was just not going to cut it.  They finally agreed to send someone, but it absolutely had to be last Tuesday, which happened to be the day I was coming back after being out of town for four days, and I had two conference calls I was already doing while I was driving back, and they gave me a 1:00 - 5:00pm window that was totally non-negotiable, since they were coming from Mars and all.

I'm sure you know what I'm going to say next, which is that the guy showed up EXACTLY at 1:00, and I would have been home except I was stuck in a giant, inexplicable traffic jam on the 405 going north from San Diego, and I was almost out of gas, and I was tired, and my grumpiness factor was at about a million, but I convinced the guy to stay at my house, and he was crabby, and I was crabby, and when he got out of his van I noticed how small he was, and I determined there was no way this small, surly man was going to be able to pull out my stacked washer and fix it.   Only that didn't matter, because when he saw my super-specialized washer, he clucked his tongue and said "This is not a very popular brand," and I was like "Look, how is that productive?  It's the ONE I HAVE," and he said he had to order parts and make me another appointment, and I tried not to cry from frustration from rushing, and from the general tiredness and backlog of work and things that break and the fact that the small surly man was giving me a lecture on my washer choices instead of actual service.  

I was too tired, though, so I was like "Fine, whatever.  Come back whenever you want," and he ordered every part he thought could possibly be broken and made me (this is not a joke) an appointment for Thursday the 9th, FROM 8AM to 5PM, and told me that I should plan to really be here the whole time, because he was bringing another guy and some parts, and if I wasn't here, this time they weren't staying.    The whole time, I stared at him like he actually was from Mars, waiting for him to laugh and say he was joking, but he didn't.  NINE HOURS.  For a broken washer.  For real. 

I guess the bottom line for me is, if you have a small space in which you're trying to fit a stacked washer/ dryer, and the choice is between remodeling your kitchen and getting the only one that will fit in the space that happens to be a Whirlpool H/E washer, I would go for the total kitchen remodel, because it might end up being easier and more cost-effective.  Oh, and if you need to call me?  I think you should totally do it on Thursday the 9th, because I will be around.

By the way....

Is everyone following this saga, of the girl who got too many stars tattooed on her face?   If not, let me catch you up.   A couple of weeks ago, this Belgian girl claims she went to a tattoo artist to get three stars tattooed on her face, fell asleep during the tattooing, and woke up with 56 facial stars.

My first thought when I originally heard this was that this story smacked of lies and regret, and was made even further specious by the fact that she admitted she went to the tattoo guy to get THREE STARS TATTOOED ON HER FACE.

I don't know if you'll go with me on this-- I'm all for freedom of speech and expression, but I think the minute you want tattoos on your face, you should be subject to a mandatory psych evaluation, and that they should have to sign off.   Because, um, if you tattoo your face, you are pretty much deciding once and for all that you are done being taken seriously in life, and if you're eighteen, maybe someone who is eighty and has face tattoos should come and talk to you about what kind of life they've had before you go through with it.

So, ok, she then claims that she "nodded off" during the procedure, and was horrified when she woke up and found that the guy had done not only the three stars she asked for, but 53 more as well.   This is even more crazy:  did any of you ever GET a tattoo?  I did, and then I didn't like it, so I had it removed.  I am hard-pressed to say which one hurt more, but let's just say that you're not going to sleep during either of those procedures.  No way.  NO WAY!

I was surprised that this case actually went as far as it did because this story was so obviously a lie.  Combine the diminshed credibility of the girl with witnesses and the glaring question of why a tattoo artist would do MORE work rather than less, and I would've thought this was an open and shut case. 
To further add to the "she's crazy, immature, and kind of stupid" story, she gets totally busted while she's being interviewed about this travesty by a Dutch TV station.  They tell her the cameras are off, so she just goes ahead and admits that she made the whole thing up.   So, I guess we now have more evidence to further gauge her intelligence level. 

So, like I said, I'm surprised it even went this far, although I have to admit she does look pretty crazy, so I guess that makes for a good news story.  Also, even though he is only shown for a moment, please make special note of the tattoo artist, who is just about the scariest-looking person I have ever seen. 

Oh, I'm sorry. Were you finished? Well, allow me to retort!

Sometimes people leave comments on this site, and they make me laugh, because a) what are you doing here if you don't like me? and b) based on what I've already written here, is it not clear that I'm going to make fun of you if you say something bad about me and you say it in a way that makes you sound stupid?  Because dude, if you come here, read some stuff, and then leave a comment with bad grammar and weird words, I'm sorry.  Game.  On.

 

With that in mind, I will draw your attention to this GEM of a comment I received the other day, in response to that post about how absolutely everything is bad for you now, how everything you're doing is wrong, and how the minute you try to change something, some hippie jumps out of the woodwork to say "Oh, oh my GOD, NO!  That's even WORSE!" until literally, you want to take a bite of rare steak right in front of them, then squirt them with DEET-laden insect repellent.  By the way, I would just like to mention that I got alot of positive feedback on that post as well, indicating that many of you have similar feelings.  So, thanks for that.

 

So, here's the comment.  I am leaving off the person's email address, because that would just be rude. 

"The Hilarious Thing about Broadcasting and advertising is that it is RIPE for the picking.
Do you just mention Tom's of Maine and mouthwash just to make them show up in the GOOGLE ADS that run next to your column or were you just BORN TO create Irony while making straight fun of those selling advertising.
Not the first time you have done this Lori.
Oh no it's not!"

First, let's notice the Totally Strange and somewhat Random Capitalization method that this person is employing.  This is Weird, and I'm not sure I'm Getting Your point, sir or ma'am.  Did you mean RIFE with irony, or RIPE for the picking of that irony?  Because I was Distracted by the capitalization, Further clarification will be Needed to illustrate the Meaning of your opinion.

To answer the question at hand, though, you are correct, oh Strange Capitalizer.  Indeed, Broadcasting and advertising ARE both ripe for the picking and rife with opportunities for mockery, which is why I sometimes deconstruct them for strategic comical purposes on this blog.  And, contrary to perhaps popular belief, I do not control the internet, so I am not in charge of what GOOGLE ADS are served up.  So, it could happen that Ironically, I am writing something about how Tom's of Maine mouthwash probably tastes like patchouli, and because it's based on an algorithm, the Google Ads robot would run an ad next to that post that links you over to buy some Tom's of Maine products, BECAUSE THE WORDS ARE SIMILAR and that's how the robot works.  Of course, we would all agree that after reading the words "Tom's of Maine mouthwash probably tastes like patchouli," you would be statistically less likely to purchase that product, but that is not really my problem.  Hey, maybe you LOVE the taste of patchouli, what the hell do I know?  This would also hold true for Latisse, the eyelash-regrowing product that I called "insane and irrational," and yet which ALSO generated an ad next to the post.  Again, maybe you don't CARE if I think it's insane and irrational to change your eye color just to regrow your eyelashes, and maybe after reading that post you decided that Latisse was for you, and you're painting it on your thin and sparse lashes even as we speak.

Further, I"m not sure what is meant by "were you just BORN TO create Irony while making straight fun of those selling advertising."

Is this a question?  Clearly I was BORN TO create Irony, and to make words, which is why I have been and continue to be employed as a writer OF BOOKS AND WEBSITES, and even of some words for ADVERTISING.   

I also really like that they've pointed out that this is not the first time I've done this, and added my name and "Oh no it's not!" as if they were my dad, and I stole their car and went to a party and came back after curfew smelling like wine coolers.  "Lori!  Continued repeated mentions of Ironic ADVERTISING references will result in grounding!  Oh yes they will!

So, in closing, please feel free to leave all the comments you want, and I will in turn feel free to censor you by erasing your comments, then turning them into blog posts.  Because, please remember that when I mocked Mischa Barton for being a bad actress (because MISCHA BARTON IS A BAD ACTRESS), not only did I get a bunch of weird comments, but I got smack-talked in a Mischa Barton chat room.  Further, being a writer requires that not only are you immune to the disparaging and sometimes ridiculous comments of people who don't like you, but that you develop a certain eye for those that deserve to be recognized and even highlighted, with a whole post of their own. 

In closing, I will say that I am no stranger to the mockery, and I (and my readers) take great pleasure in returning the ball, should you Choose to THROW IT OUT in such a funny way, RIFE with grammatical errors and RIPE for the re-mocking.  I guarantee that I am not even the most sarcastic of my group of friends and readers.  Oh yes I do!

This Just In: Billy Bob Thornton is an Ingrate.

 I've been busy doing publicity for my two books that are coming out on May 5th, so I apologize I haven't been posting very much over here.  By "publicity," I of course mean radio shows, arranging giveaways and doing interviews, coordinating book signings, and stuff like that.   Maybe it's just me, but I still feel so incredibly lucky that people like reading what I write, and that I have two publishers for two books that doing publicity is absolutely no problem at all.  Of any kind.  No matter what.  In fact, someone asked me during an interview the other day if I mind if my novel is called "chick lit," and I'm like "HELL NO-- call it whatever you want, as long as you buy it and read it."   Because dude, I don't even want to tell you how hard it was to get here.    Or maybe I will tell you, if you want to use it as publicity.   Let's just say it involved alot of writing, and alot of crying. 

Maybe that's why Billy Bob Thornton's recent antics have rubbed me the wrong way so much.  Have you been following this whole thing?  I keep meaning to mention it, then I forget, and then it makes the news again and I am once again reminded of what an incredible douchebag Billy Bob Thorton is, and how he has forgotten all about the "crying" phase of his career where he couldn't get anyone interested in him, and when no one would return his phonecalls, and how he lived in his car (or whatever, I don't know his story).  So, if you’re just joining us now, here’s a recap:

April 8^th:  BBT, on tour with his band the Boxcutters, goes on a Canadian radio show, where his “people” instruct the host not to mention the fact that he’s an Academy Award winning screenwriter and actor.  Because right, a 48 year old drummer in a random band is really going to be able to get publicity for himself and his band based totally on his music.  When the radio host does what any reasonable person would do and tries to ask Thorton how his MUSIC CONNECTS TO HIS CAREER, he totally stonewalls and starts talking about how he built a monster from a kit when he was a kid, and how he doesn’t know Willie Nelson even though he’s out on tour with him, and then he makes some weird references that basically compare all Canadians to bland gravy, and then when the radio host actually asks his band to play music, he acts all offended and condescending and says that he’s not going to play since he’s the drummer and they don’t cart the drum kit around at 6:30 in the morning, which basically says to me that the whole reason his bandmates brought him with for the interview was because he’s BILLY BOB THORTON AND PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW WHAT HE’S DOING.

Here’s that interview, in case you didn’t see it.  It really starts to get uncomfortable around…well, the whole thing is kind of sucky, actually.  If this doesn't make you totally despise Billy Bob Thornton, who in case you've forgotton, IS THAT GUY FROM SLINGBLADE, I don't know what will:  http://www.youtube.com/qtv

Bottom line:  Billy Bob Thorton needs to get right over himself.    He obviously has an incredible sense of entitlement and has lost any sort of connection with the struggles of real artists and how grateful we should all be if our work gets even a shred of attention, for any reason.  Every moment of this interview makes me want to punch him in the face. 

OK, then word gets out that BBT is such a jerk, and Canadian audiences start to boo him at his concerts, and instead of just manning up and apologizing for acting like an a-hole, he cancels the rest of his band’s Canadian appearances, claiming that his whole band and crew have the flu.  So, nice.  Now you’re upset because someone called you a SUCCESSFUL ACTOR and you threw a tantrum, and some Canadians called you on it, and you’re running away instead of facing the music (no.  pun.  Intended) and causing your bandmates (and crew) to miss out on paying gigs.  Dude, again, you’re a drummer in a band that would be totally unknown without your fame.  Give up the attitude.  Give it up!

Then I forget about it for a little while and stop wanting to put my high-heeled shoe in his ass for being so ungrateful, and THEN he goes on Jimmy Kimmel Live (which, um, he couldn’t even do if he wasn’t BILLY BOB THORNTON, THE GUY FROM SLING BLADE)  to say that he’s ASTOUNDED that this is news, but that he’s glad it gives “humpback geeks” something to do.  Notice that he knows better than to correct Jimmy Kimmel for calling him an “Academy Award Winning Actor.”   Go figure.   

This sends me over the edge into a Culwelll-sponsored episode of “REALLY?  With Billy Bob Thornton.”  That goes like this:

Billy Bob Thornton.  REALLY?  You’re a 48 year old drummer on a promotional tour that you’re only on because you’re an actor, and then you command a radio host not to mention the very reason people know you, then people get upset, and you’re surprised that this is news?  REALLY?  Have you not noticed the economy falling down around us?  You are fortunate enough to have one career everyone in the world wants, you’re married six times (one of them to ANGELINA JOLIE), you’re a multimillionaire, you’ve won an Academy Award, all despite a marginal amount of education and a total lack of handsomeness.  THEN you feel like switching careers mid-stream, and by some MIRACLE you are granted a record deal and start living YET ANOTHER DREAM JOB of so many, and then you act like an absolute, entitled a-hole to a poor hardworking radio host.  Then you are SURPRISED that people are upset?  REALLY.    Let me make it clear for you:   YOU LOOK LIKE YOU SHOULD BE WORKING IN A TIRE STORE IN ARKANSAS.  You were deserving of our love in Slingblade, but if you keep going like this, we are going to take our love away.  You are so lucky to be where you are, you literally should be living inside a bubble of gratitude that makes you bake a cake for everyone who even wants to consider you in your role as “musician.”  You are an embarrassment to hard-working, big-dreaming artists everywhere, and you are making all of us look bad, and we want you to go away.

Get over yourself, Billy Bob Thornton.  Don’t make me smack you.  I couldn't care less if you're weird and skinny and afraid of food and antiques. 

Hilarious and disturbing, all at once...

 

Last night Stephan and I were wiped out by the heatwave and too tired to work and we had (amazingly) already caught up on everything in the DVR, so we toggled between an episode of "Whose Line" which is an awesome show that I think you should definitely start watching right now just to see how brilliant Wayne Brady is at improv, and this completely disturbing show on TLC called "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant."   And, just in case your trigger-finger is itching to tell me just how long that sentence was, I want you to know that I know, and that I wrote it that way on purpose. 

Back to "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant." I'm sure you can imagine the prurient horror and fascination with which I watched this show, since I am still on the fence about the whole children issue.   This show is actually hilarious and disturbing at the same time, so much so that it almost fell into the realm of a German absurdist film, or an old Saturday Night Live sketch of "Sprockets."    Part of this effect is achieved by the totally horrible reenactments, and how the people in these reenactments look almost nothing like the actual people involved in the "Unknown Birth" scenarios, and how the acting is bad, and the lighting is bad, and the whole thing looks like a locally-filmed ad for Massengil disposal douce-- right up to the moment when you're back from the commercial break, and the actress portraying the unsuspecting pregnant woman starts having a baby.....in the bathroom of the chicken store where she works, or in the bathroom of the campground (don't even get me started on the germs involved there), or on her neighbor's front lawn.    Yeah, these were all real scenarios, and each and every time you're like "Really?  An eight pound baby, and you had no idea?  REALLY????"

 

And, to answer your next question, no--   most of them weren't heavy to the point where they wouldn't notice an eight pound baby just hanging out up in there, but for the record, I have some zaftig friends, and every single one of them felt every moment of their pregnancies.  In fact, everyone I know who has EVER been pregnant has had at least one symptom, and even after watching this whole show, I am still beyond baffled by this phenomenon, although I feel it is fair to add that NONE of the subjects interviewed during this particular program looked like they belonged in MENSA, if you know what I mean.  But-- to not even know you're pregnant until you're on the front lawn and the baby is coming out?  That is not right.    Also, how weird is it to have to take that "complete surprise" baby home with you, when you had no cotton-pickin idea you were even pregnant?   Like, one day you're minding your own business, and then this baby just sneaks up on you like that?  It's almost.....rude. 

 

Also, in case you're following the story of "I wrote two books and they're both coming out on May 5th," you can now pre-order my website book (Million Dollar Website is the title), and I did a radio interview about that book this morning that is set to air this weekend (I will put up that link on Friday), and I finally scanned the "Marie Claire Pop Culture Pyramid," so you can see my book right next to Jennifer Garner's new movie.  Sweet!

See what he did there?

I know, sometimes I point out things I think are weird, and it starts to make you think I'm weird for even thinking that, but I guess that's just the risk I run.

Here's a good example.  Last weekend we passed by this printing place, and this was the sign they had hanging outside:

 
In case you're wondering why this kind of thing bugs me, please, let's remind ourselves that my entire professional career, and really, my whole life has been dedicated to words.   I was one of those AP-English types in high school, then in college, then in grad school, and now I've been a professional writer in some capacity (books, websites, marketing brochures, whatever's clever) for twelve years.   I have to say, this kind of thing, when people write their own stuff and do a marginal-to-bad job at it, drives me up a wall as much as, say, your friend who thinks they know the law because they watch alot of Law & Order.   It's not like I would try to be my own lawyer, or electrician, or doctor.  So-- why do people put so little effort sometimes into the way things sound?  By the way, in case you're wondering, I blurred out the name of the business so they wouldn't get all upset that I was slandering them.  But, I will tell you if you're curious.

Let's unpack this weird sign, shall we?   "A business with no sign....is a sign of no business."  Huh?  You know the person who wrote this was like "Yes!  I am a genius!   I don't need to hire a professional writer!  Who needs so-called "creative types?"

Only, this sign makes so sense.  It's a sign that, instead of drawing you in to the store to purchase more of that cleverness, instead makes you stand there, scratching your head.  You know it's not right, but you're not sure why.   "A business with no sign....."  there's the subject and some modifiers, and now we're getting to the verb, "is."  OK, a business with no sign is what?  Totally screwed?  Badly prepared?   Not going to have any customers?

Nope.  A business with no sign is a sign of no business.   See, it's meant to be one of those clever double-entendre kind of signs, like Office Depot's tagline "Taking care of business."   But, a business with no sign CAN'T be a sign of no business.   A business CAN NOT BE a portentious omen of the non-existence of its very self.  No no no!  That makes no sense, dammit! 

Here's how this sign would have sounded better, just because once I saw it I couldn't get it out of my head.

"No business?  Maybe it's a sign....."

or

"Open for business? Give your customers a sign....."

or

"See the signs of new business coming your way...."

Or, I don't know-- you come up with something.  Because seriously, ANYTHING would have been better than "A business with no sign is a sign of no business."   I MEAN.....WHAAAAT?    I think what bugs me most is that most people aren't even going to notice how bad that sounds.  They're just going to pass right by, and if they happen to glance up at this weird attempt at cleverness that bothered me enough to write about it, they're going to go "oh, ok--- I get it!  IT'S A SIGN!" 

Blurg.

Happy Halloween!

This Halloween, I'd like to give you the truly outstanding gift of Crazy Gideon, an electronics salesman in downtown L.A who looks a little like the grown-up version of Eddie Munster.  If you don't live here you might not have seen one of these commercials, but I didn't think I should go one more day without sharing it with you.   I'll let you get to the magic right away, but I'd just like to ask you-- what's with this guy's anger management problem?   He's yelling even louder than the OXY CLEAN GUY, WHO TOTALLY WANTS YOU TO CLEAN YOUR CARPET.  Take special notice of the moment when he tries to take a bite out of the camera.  True crazy genius.   "If you don't buy from him, you have a problem in you MIND!"

Pirates! Pirates! Pirates!

Remember the broken air conditioner?  Well, the Russian A/C guy who came to fix it put the fear of God into me about maintenance, and so I've had new parts on order ever since.  Only, when the new parts came in, the Russian A/C guy came back, and the new parts didn't fit, so he (no kidding) vaccuummed out the A/C, shrugged, and said "When it breaks, call us back and we'll replace."  He also told me a story about how he used to be a merchant marine in Russia, and how when they saw pirates, they would call 'someone with a helicopter,' and the helicopter would come and shoot the pirates with guns.  So, that was interesting.  This was in reference to those Somali pirates with the tanks and grenade launchers who want millions of dollars in ransom money.  This led me to the New York Times coverage of that incident, and that led me to this quote: 

“We just saw a big ship,” the pirates’ spokesman, Sugule Ali, said in a telephone interview. “So we stopped it.”

I don't know why, but it's so entertaining to me that the pirates have an actual spokesman.  Wow!  A pirate spokesman, coming to you on SATELLITE PHONE FROM THE BRIDGE OF THE SHIP.  Um, did they call the New York Times?  Did someone at the New York Times call them?   Does someone at the New York Times have "Somali Pirate Spokesman" programmed into their cellphone?  Because that would be awesome. 

Seriously though-- Somalia is really messed up.  My dad was stationed there in the late eighties/ early nineties, and it's even worse there now than when he was there.  I'm sorry to say that even if those pirates got their $20 million ransom for that ship, it probably wouldn't help their country get back on its feet because they really lack any sort of stable government or infrastructure-- which I guess it what led them to become pirates in the first place.  It's a Pirate Catch-22, y'all!

Oh, also--

   I don't know why, but I was a little happy about the news that Natalie Portman and Devendra Banhart weren't dating anymore, because the two of them were just a little too high on my "smug meter," if you catch my drift.  Like, he's this freak folk/ performance art weirdo with a scary, Manson-esque beard, and she's beautiful and smart, and went to Harvard, and stars in indie films and designs vegan shoes, and it's all just a little too much to take.  I kept seeing pictures of them doing cool stuff around the West Village all summer, looking cooler than thou, and being reminded of art school kids in high school and college, who wear all black and smoke cigarettes and make references that they know you're not going to get and then laugh when you don't.   I know it's petty, but just looking at photos of these two together made me think they were always talking about Proust or how to end world hunger, and the cumulative effect was just a big STOP IT.   Like, enough already.  We know you're cool, and you make movies and videos and have inside jokes about how nobody else "gets it," ok?  Just cut it out.  The rest of us are just trying to remember to floss, and we haven't found the portal into your freaky Williamsburg dimension.   Also, Devendra Banhart looks like he smells, and I find this problematic. 

In case you're wondering, I also feel this way about artist/ freaky guy Matthew Barney and his paramour Bjork.  Those two would for sure be having a conversation, and you'd be on the outside of it, going "what are you guys talking about?  What's flensing?"   And then they'd snicker and laugh at you.

Cringeworthy----and yet, I cannot look away.

OMG, did you see this Josh Groban performance at the Emmys last night?  The cheese factor was turned up to 1000, man.

Now, I don't want to brag, but when I went last year, the musical guest was Christina Aguilera duetting with Tony Bennett.  This, on the other hand, just made me want to crawl out of my skin, and yet-- I couldn't stop watching it.  Is it the worst when he starts singing the Fresh Prince of Bel Air themesong, or when he imitates Cartman?  It's literally like Josh Groban (whose work I didn't really know before, so maybe I'm not being fair) came to the "themesong medley" meeting late, and JUST understood what it was he was going to have to do during the medley.  The cumulative effect of this is that he looks a little confused, a little scared, and a little like a Muppet on speed, and you kind of have to watch it with your hand over your eyes, or it might burn your corneas.  The whole thing is just so woefully unironic, I had to hide my head in shame and just pray that he got paid the big bucks for this.   I have included it here, but bear in mind--- after you watch it, you will have died a little inside.