Football Head.

Alright... I know it's another football blog [EDITOR'S NOTE: I've deleted the previous blog at this point], but I've had questions about my term of "football head," so I feel the need to address it further. DEAL WITH IT.

Football head: When someone's head had the shape of a football, minus the pointy ends. Essentially, the point (heh) is to think about it as a head someone can throw like a football. Formally thought of as "linebacker head," until the realization was reached that linebackers just had GIANT heads, period. Seriously. Linebackers are all heads and guts. Which sounds like some kind of motto a football coach would use. "HEADS AND GUTS!"

Nowadays, football head is most noticeable in quarterbacks. Maybe it's because they're the most well-known, I guess. Also, it seems to mostly afflict Caucasians (with one exception). Here are my favorite football heads, with pictures for those of you who are not football-inclined.

Chris Berman

As those of you who read my other football blog (and/or who watch ESPN) know, Chris Berman is not a football player. BUT LOOK AT THAT HEAD. It's so footbally! And Philly cheeseteaky. Seriously. That dude looks (and sounds) like he lives on Philly cheesesteaks and cigars. This is the man for whom the term "football head" was created, so he must be mentioned. He is the President of the Football Head Club, but unlike the Hair Club president, he is not also a client. (And by client, I mean that he doesn't play football. [You know, in case you didn't get my super-subtle jokes. They're so subtle! Right?] Nor is he a client of the Hair Club, obviously.) With this in mind, I shall give each of the following quarterbacks an officer position for the Football Head Club.

Peyton Manning - Public Relations

I couldn't find a good picture of his head, but trust: it is epic. He gets extra points for his ENORMOUS forehead, and pointy chin. Any time I see him without his helmet on, my mind screams, "FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTBAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL HEAD." He actually looks more normal with a helmet on. I love it. I wonder if he secretly wants to live with a helmet on at all times, because sometimes he doesn't take it off immediately at the end of games. Pey-Pey makes me want to create an animated cartoon where children play football with his head. Who wouldn't want to watch that cartoon? BECAUSE IT WOULD BE AWESOME. He's also really nice, and has a hot wife. Thus, he is our PR guy.

Eli Manning - Treasurer

Skinny football head! The shape is still there, but it's not as bulbous as some other football headers. Eli is similar to Peyton in that he looks more normal in a helmet, as well. He gets the Treasurer position because his head isn't as impressive as some of the others, and no one likes being treasurer, so he got the short stick. Man, football headers can be jerks sometimes. I bet they were the ones who leaked those pics of Eli drunk in college. Although... so what? Who DIDN'T get drunk in college? Good for Eli for seeming normal. He tempers Peyton's seeming perfection. How did I get on this topic? This is not what I should be talking about.

Donovan McNabb - Secretary

GOOD GRAVY THAT IS A FOOTBALL OF A HEAD. Look at it. It's so glorious in its footballyness. Donovan gets the distinction of being the only minority in the NFL with football head. This distinction, of course, has only been made by me, and I don't know every player in the NFL. Feel free to enlighten me of other football heads in the comments. Why is he the secretary? Because someone had to be. And he keeps to himself, which is what you want in a secretary. I mean, look at this season: the contentious trade, the freefall that the Redskins are in... and is Donovan (I use his first name CUZ WE'RE TOTES BESTIES) causing any shit? No. It's fucking Albert Haynesworth. Good for you, Donnie. Just keep your (SERIOUSLY IT'S HUGE) head down and take those notes.

Ben Roethlisberger - Vice President

Side football head! And OF COURSE he's vice president; he probably intimidated his way into the position, and is now trying to figure out how to kill off Philly Cheesesteak. Man, he is a bad ass as a quarterback, but he brings shame to the good name of Football Head. Allegedly. Also, he is quite beefy for a quarterback. Maybe THAT'S why he's VP. Beefaroni and Philly Cheesesteak work together to keep the quieter members of the Football Head Club in line. And then they inappropriately fondle ladies. Allegedly.

And here are 2 up-and-comers of the Football Head Club...

Jon Kitna

It's like he's about to point at it: "Look guys, it's a football head! Seriously! I'M WORTH SOMETHING." Kitna's road to football headery is much like his NFL career. He's always been there, he's not terrible... but no one really cares about him. His football head is neither large nor weird enough to make an impression. Now that he's helped out the Cowboys some, Beefaroni and Philly Cheesesteak decided that they had to let him in. But he'll probably get kicked out when Romo comes back... even though it's still a majestic football head.

Brett Favre

He didn't always have a football head. But once he retired/got fired/what-the-FUCK-ever from Green Bay, the football head has started to emerge. Any time he has a new issue (be it sucking for the Jets, sucking for the Vikings, or sending photos of his awkward, small penis), the football head gets bigger. I couldn't find a more recent photo, but if you look at him today, his football head is RAGING. Ha... raging football head. That has to be some sexual thing that happens when people tailgate. Anyway, either Brett Favre is eating his feelings, and all that food is going to his head, or he consciously tried to grow a football head in order to distract people from his personal problems. Either way, it amuses me greatly, so I encourage your football head, Brett Fuckre.

I was gonna write about how Tom Brady's head is the opposite of football head, and how he's trying to create a new club called I Grew My Hair Out So That People Don't Know How Small My Head Is Club. But clearly, the joke is right there in the club name. So I'll just leave it at that. Feel free to comment on other football heads (whether they play football or not), or Tom Brady-like heads. Seriously. Look at Tom Brady in a helmet. HIS HEAD IS RIDICULOUSLY SMALL.

Some people are crazy.

So I'm directing this show, 4.48 Psychosis by Sarah Kane. [WARNING: I'm about to pimp this shit.] It runs December 2-4 and 9-12 at Art Six (424 Bryan) in Denton, Texas. If you're around, you should see it. I love Sarah Kane, but some people don't. I understand it, particularly if you only read her early work. It's easy to read it as "shock for shock's sake," but I don't see it that way. I think you can find real humanity and hope in her work, as well as some deep, raw, depressing emotions that should ring true for every person, regardless of whether you've ever felt depression.

Woah. That last sentence was not grammatically correct. But you know what I'm saying. ANYWAY. Enough with that. I'm still here to talk about Sarah Kane... but only because in my research, I found some SUPER FUCKING CRAZY people who love her. These people are the reason why people don't like Sarah Kane. Let me show what you what I've found. (NOTE: These are from discussion boards. I've redacted any names to protect the insane.)

Ever since i read 4.48 i have been thinking how i would stage it.
I'd begin casually by passing a kitten around the audience. They would play with the cat and see how cute it is. The curtains would open reveling a complex stage including a huge clock that didnt tell the time but instead counted towards 04.48. From the clock would be a series of wires and car batteries connected to a metal cage. The kitten would then be put in the cage. The play would start at 3.48 and the finish exactly at 4.48. at 4.48 the kitten would be electrocuted which the audience would be made aware of as the play went on.
The kitten would put the audience on edge throughout the performance. "Will the kill the cat?" "Is this legal?" "Should i walk out?" "should i call the police?". The cat is a metaphor for suffering and metal illness. What better way of showing depression than showing death a poisoned minds. An actual play involving real danger, real fear.
And at 4.48 - would i actually kill the cat?
Maybe
...yeah i think i would. Call me sick but i think that would be real art. REAL theatre.

Um. WHAT?!? Now, I'm a person who thinks that theatre (or really, art in general) is all about opinion; if someone says it's theatre, it's theatre. It's just a matter of whether it's good or bad theatre IN YOUR OPINION. So, based on that, I'd go ahead and say that the above statement would be bad theatre. ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO KILL A CAT?!?! Also, what does "real theatre" even mean? Crazy. Crazy person. Speaking of crazy...

Imagine, if you will...... colostomy bags bursting, drip feeds crashing, sh*t everywhere, teeth falling away, tumors oozing, pools of stinking opulence.

Oh, I'm imagining it. I'm also imagining your CRAZY, CRAZY FACE. Are we reading the same play? Maybe I'm the one who is confused, because this next guy thought that this would be a good image:

cartoon of a head with a dotted line across the neck with CUT HERE written beside it and the sign of a pair of scissors or a cutting knife beside it

Well, of course. OF COURSE there would be a CARTOON onstage for a show about suicide. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?!?

Sigh. Listen, all you theatre people: when you choose to produce something just to SHOCK people, it'll suck. If there are shocking images in a production that you TRULY believe in staging, then it's worth doing. Good theatre always has heart behind it.

I don't really have anywhere to go with this blogsby. I just couldn't believe these batshit people, and had to share. So come see my show! It'll be kinda crazy, but in a good way. Not in a "I'ma kill a cat, bitches" way.

What do women want?

There was recently a trending hashtag (that shouldn't ever be a phrase... "trending hashtag"? WHAT is that?) on Twitter (I mean, think about 5 years ago - saying "trending hashtag on Twitter" would get you committed to a psych ward) that was #whatwomenwant. Also, #whatdowomenwant, apparently (I thought it was #whatwomenwant, but I just copy/pasted the hashtag on my Twitter, and I now realize both were being used).  Most of the people I followed were tweeting or retweeting (DUDE, don't even get me started on the verb "tweet" and its related words, because I hate myself whenever I say it or write it) obnoxiously sexist posts. I, in my infinite feminism (and PMS-related emotions), became enraged. So here were my responses:


For men to shut the fuck up about THEIR FEELINGS.
For men to have a period just once in their lives.
For men to have babies. YOU DEAL WITH IT.
For men to understand that all vaginas look different. Your penis is disappointing too, but at least we don't say anything.


So... yeah. Perhaps a slight overreaction. Or is it? I mean... I probably have, at some point in my life, wanted all 4 of those things to happen. Unfortunately, what happens is this: men can write "pithy" sayings about what women want, but by me flipping the switch, I'm some sort of hateful bitch. I HATE IT. I can't get angry about things without people making it about my gender. 


I felt like this blog was going somewhere when I started it. Clearly, it is not. I've gotten caught up in job applications and a marathon of Psych. So I'll just end this with a list of what I want.


1. For James Roday (of Psych) to tone himself a little. He's got MOOBS (tiny ones, but they're there) in season 4! Okay, I understand that people don't need to be crazy fit all the time. But I'm superficial, and James Roday is eye candy, so he needs to BRING IT. Also, it's like I'm doing a gender reversal! Yeah, DUDES need to get in shape, not ladies. Or something.
2. To start having some sort of want to work out. But I think this will never happen.
3. To stop being polite, and start getting real. No, just kids. THE REAL WORLD SUCKS. Wait, I mean the show. I mean, the world does too, sometimes.
4. For Jason Garrett to turn the Cowboys around.
5. For Gloria Estefan to turn the beat around.
6. To choreograph a dance routine to "Beat It."
7. For Weird Al to get back to his hey day of "Eat It."
8. To use the term "hey day" more. Or is it "heyday"? I think I like it better as one word.
9. To make Scott Foley happen. Hey, he's gonna be on Grey's Anatomy! That's a start.
10. To be able to be an instrument virtuoso. I don't care what instrument it is. I wanna virtuo it.


This is just the beginning of what I want. There's so much more! I can't share them all with you at once, though. Why else would you keep reading this?

I can't help myself.

Did you know that there's a McDonald's by the Dallas Zoo? And did you know that it's zoo-themed? BECAUSE IT IS AND IT KEEPS MAKING TERRIFYING ANIMALS NOISES AT ME WHILE I'M TRYING TO GET SOME WORK DONE. This is worse than the obnoxious teenagers. I think I've had 17 heart attacks since I've been here. Thus, blogging, because I can't concentrate on anything important.

By the way, the only reason that the original Pure Country owned (and let's be clear here, it NEVER owned, not even in an old-timey historical sense where it owned slaves, which would actually make sense in a country movie, although I guess not anymore since black people make country music [I'M LOOKING AT YOU DARIUS RUCKER], which kind of upsets me because country music was all crazy racism [that's crazism, for those of you playing at home], and now black people are like "yeah, that's cool, but me singing with a weird twang is even cooler" or something? anyway, the point being that Pure Country does not, and will never OWN in any awesome sense of the word) was because of Leslie Ann Warren.

Ah, Leslie Ann Warren. You are my favorite cray cray lay day. To wit:
- Clue
- Secretary
- Sydney Pollock's crazy mistress on Will & Grace

Those are just off the top of my head. Apparently she was naked a lot and kissed ladies in some older movies, like No Way Out with Kevin Costner, when Kevin Costner was awesome. Remember that? MAN. I miss awesome Kevin Costner. He should write a movie - no, wait, scratch that FOREVER - he should be in a movie with Leslie Ann Warren. I would watch the shit out of that. And then I would somehow age 15 years whilst watching it. [edit: Turns out the movie I was thinking of was Color of Night, with Bruce Willis. And he still KINDA has a career. So I feel stupid. But I would still watch a movie with the two of them. And it would OWN, unlike stupid stupid waste-of-time Pure Country.]

But it would be worth it. I think. I hope. I PRAY.

So you get Leslie Ann Warren in Pure Country 2, and I'll be there in my hair. Which I will style all Texas-big, because the only thing I know about country music is stereotypes.

(I am embarrassed that I have written 2 blogs ostensibly about Pure Country and its ilk. But I just used the words "ostensibly" and "ilk," so that makes me feel better.)

Sequels are only good if they're pure.

(editing note: I don't know why the spaces between each paragraph are so cray cray. Deal with it.)


Today was a nice day outside. Which makes it annoying when you're inside somewhere for a long time (like, say, Borders on your lunch break because although McDonald's has WiFi and cheap food, it's also full of CRAZIES or OBNOXIOUS ADOLESCENTS that make me want to throw things) and the AC is freezing, but the outside weather isn't really hot enough to justify such chilly indoor conditions, and then I got in my car (verb tense change!) and it was like a cozy blanket (or a SNUGGIE!), so I turned off the AC and basked in my sauna... until it turned into an actual sauna (I mean, not ACTUAL because my company car is not a transformer, although that would make my job 5000 times more awesome) and I got too sweaty. I think this weird weather might have messed up my tires too, but that might just be my driving because I like to get in high speed chases with Steve McQueen. Wait - I mean Steve R. McQueen. Yeah, not the cool one; obviously, because OG McQueen is dead. No, I'm talking about his grandson, who was in Piranha 3D, and if I was to blame one person for ruining that movie... well, it would probably be the producer who thought the audience wanted to CARE about any of those characters. Clearly, the audience just wanted to see Jerry O'Connell be a jackass, Adam Scott be a badass, and piranhas eating asses. But also, I'd blame the awfulness of that movie on Steve R. McQueen, which would bring it back to the producer, because he probably cast that stupid little douchebottle.


How did I get here? This is not what I wanted to talk about today. What did I want to talk about? OH RIGHT. Pure Country 2.


So I saw something about this the other day (which, by the way, is called Pure Country 2: The Gift [HOLY SHIT that title is the best, although mostly because it makes me think of that movie The Gift being mixed with Pure Country, and I'm sure that's not what's happening here]), but I didn't think anything of it. And then today, I heard approximately 50 commercials for it on the radio. Yes, I still listen to the radio. DEAL WITH IT.


So... this commercial was... AMAZING. I couldn't find the exact trailer, but this one's close (and just as long:) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vu7_B2tzKHo. Magical black lady? Check. ASIAN COUNTRY BAND?!?! ... Check. Which, also, that part wasn't on the radio commercial, so that part made watching the trailer totally worth it. 


Dude. Seriously. Who was clamoring for this movie? Who the HELL was clamoring for the first Pure Country? I don't even think George Strait fans were thinking, "Man, you know what would make George Strait more awesome? If he did a movie in which his acting could be unfavorably compared to a brick wall." Except George Strait fans might have thought that more... country-esque. Or something. I don't know, I don't listen to country. Maybe instead of "brick wall," they'd say "bale of hay" or something.


STOP HASSLIN' ME. (Hey, that sounds country!) I'm getting off topic again.


Okay, so here's the synopsis for Pure Country 2: "Three angels bestow the gift of song to a young girl, who must follow a series of rules in order hold on to it during her rise to fame and fortune." Well... there's the gift part, I guess. And WHERE IS THAT ANGEL SHIT IN THE PREVIEW?!?! Three angels circling around some country Asians and a magical black lady? Every pothead would go see that movie. Hell, I might even see that movie. Angels. ANGELS. FUCKING ANGELS?!?! Yes, please. Give them to me, along with the rules, and throw in some regulations while you're at it.


And finally, the best part of Pure Country 2. It was co-written and directed by Christopher Cain, who directed the first Pure Country. Who co-wrote it with him? That's right, Dean Cain. Dean "I used to play Superman, but on a TV show, so no one really cares because remember George Reeves? Yeah, no one else did either until Hollywoodland came out and everyone was like, 'Oh, Ben Affleck is so George Reeves' except they don't even KNOW about George Reeves but I do because I know the pain of being a TV Superman OH GOD WHY DOESN'T ANYONE LOVE ME?" Cain. 


Apparently, Christopher Cain is his dad. So I'm thinking that one of two things happened... 


1) Christopher Cain, in his infinite crazy-man old age wisdom, decided to write a sequel to Pure Country. And Dean Cain, in his infinite non-employment, kept annoying him about getting a job. I imagine it might have been something like this. Dean: "Hey Dad, whatcha doin'?" Christopher: "Well, I -" Dean: "That's cool, I'm just sitting here doing nothing ALL DAY and wondering why if I'm so handsome and likeable, why won't anyone hire me? Hey, are you working on a MOVIE? I wanna do a movie I wanna do a movie I wanna do a movie I wanna do a movie [on so on until Christopher decided to let him help out with the movie]"


2) Christopher Cain got Alzheimer's, and kept talking about Pure Country so much, that Dean Cain decided to help him write a sequel in order to give him some closure. Which was kinda sad and very sweet... but then Christopher saw how plastic surgeryed (surgeried? surgery'd?) George Strait's face was. And he was cured of his Alzheimer's! But they decided to finish the movie anyway, because Dean Cain was secretly sexin' that lead nobody girl. And after it was all over, they started a secret science experiment to see if George Strait's face could cure ALL Alzheimer's.


Either way, that backstory is way better than whatever the actual movie will be. Although after all this Pure Country 2: The Gift (now with more of Katie Holmes's boobs!) talk, I'm thinking about wrangling a group together to go see the movie. We can be loud and obnoxious, just like teenagers that hang out at McDonald's.


And... full circle. BOOM. I would be awesome at writing a movie.

Oh my GOD I just want to go to sleep.

First, every page I get on for Blogger pops shit up at me. I don't need you to tell me how to do everything. I CAN FIGURE IT OUT, ASSHOLE.

Anyway.

I'm starting another blog. How many blogs have I had in my life? Good night... I dunno. By saying "good night," you can guess that I'm old enough to at least have had 5. Wait - old people don't have blogs. This logic is flawed.

So my "about me" section is right. I wanted my blog to be under the same account as my Gmail. I was tired of blogging and stupid Blogger taking me out of Gmail. Although... I don't really blog often. So I guess it's not really a problem.

The truth is? I'm vain, and want a new blog, so I'm making it happen. RIGHT NOW. I love caps, and parentheses, and ellipses, and quotations marks, and I want to share them with the WORLD. I will do it! Now. Or something.

Or maybe I'll just make this where I write about pop culture. Because I have thoughts a lot to write about things that I know about in the entertainment world (and trust me, I know a lot). I certainly won't write about my life in a sad, boring way. Because I am sad and boring enough in real life. I don't need to attack people with it in my blog life.

I hate the word blog. HATE HATE HATE. I prefer blogsby because it makes you think of Bill Cosby, but it's removed enough to where you only remember the comforting part of Cosby, and not the weird illegitimate child-having, possibly lady-harassing parts of Cosby. BLOGSBY! Feel comforted. I'll sit on a stool and tell you about being a father.

Oh my god I'm being random. I need to go to sleep. Stupid work, ruining my life.