Thursday, May 10, 2007


I refer to myself as a late bloomer and, though I'm not a flowery gal, it's an apt description. I bring this up because, very late in the game, I have discovered something amazing and I'm sure -- much like DVR, alcohol, and sex -- all you early-blooming, precociously-pubescent carnivores knew about its wonders way before I did.

My discovery is JERKY. As in: dried beef/salmon/turkey jerky. Seriously: I had NO IDEA. It's WONDERFUL STUFF!

Caveat: I'm not talking mechanically-separated-pork snout jerky, those long, brown, dried ropes of turd that a certain wrestler and/or "snapalope" is famous for schilling. I'm talking NATURAL jerky, the meat separated not by machine but the sexiest of sexy man-hands.

My kind of jerky is great because it's like a chewy, spicy salt-lick AND it counts as FOOD! It's full of PROTEIN which means it's HEALTHY. Nevermind the salt content; I have adorably low blood pressure and can use a little kick of sodium every now and then. Jerky is a totally tasty stress-reliever because it gives my mouth a serious workout and that's awesome because I'm really into keeping fit (this means I'm interesting), especially if I can keep fit while eating (this means I'm insane). It's basically chewing gum for carnivores and Florida Panhandle murderers.

Trader Joe's sells organic versions of spicy beef and kippered salmon jerky, and I currently Can't Get Enough. This might mean I am a piece of trash or more like Macho Man Randy Savage than I ever thought, but I can live with that as long as I can snap into something so returdedly delicious.

Monday, May 07, 2007


I have a catchphrase for whenever something lucky happens (or might potentially happen) to me, and it is this: "Steak dinner!" As in: I will reward myself or celebrate over a steak dinner. It's the only way to go, I think.

Well, I just uttered "Steak dinner!" to myself, only it's for the most hilariously insulting reason. Here it is:

A couple of weeks ago I auditioned for something which required me, at one point, to take my top off and show the producers, casting director, and cameraman what I look like in a bikini top. Except that I don't currently have a bikini, at least not one less than--I'm not kidding--8 years old. It's not decent, and certainly not flattering. So instead of wearing a sun-bleached triangle with stretched elastic, I wore a brand new push-up bra with a loud pattern thinking it'd look kind of like a bikini AND give the twins a little extra cleavage. Safe bet, right?

I then threw my dignity out the window and, IN A BRA, NOT A BIKINI, auditioned. Aside from the utter humiliation of IMPROVISING SHIRTLESS for a room full of men, it went well! So well, in fact, that I have a callback! Yeah! Steak Dinner! I don't want to jinx myself, but getting this part would be the exact kind of thing worth celebrating over a medium rare strip steak with well-done french fries and a side of creamed spinach. It's the kind of meal that would absolutely restore my dignity. Kind of!

But here's something: the casting director e-mailed me today to say that the producers want me to audition for a different, non-bikini-clad part. Hooray, right?! I mean, I wasn't too fond of the notion of wearing a bikini on-camera in the first place! I can't stop winning!

So what part DO they want me to audition for? Well, it's even SEXIER than the first:

Tooth Fairy: mousy looking, thin young woman, early 20’s, Caucasian who speaks in a foul, crass manner.

Wow. I show them my mo-mo's, my top-bits, my sweet-B's, and they come back to me with this. My own dumb vanity is trying to be flattered by their thinking I'm thin (and, I'll be honest, in my early 20's), There is nothing flattering about this breakdown. Even though I really couldn't be more typecast by it.

Nevertheless: fingers crossed! I would love to eat a steak dinner! And, who knows: maybe some of those extra calories will find a home in what I like to call Titty Kingdom.