Popcorn Songs
...and other stuff, but it's the popcorn mix I can't get enough of.Friday, November 18, 2005
Darla
What I find most amazing about Sarah Silverman is how she can talk about sex like most people talk about picking up their dry cleaning. She's ruder, funnier and more honest about sex than... anyone, really. She should be the spokesperson for sex education. It doesn't hurt that she's smoking hot, too. I think Hollywood execs must be intimidated by her or concerned about the moral majority, because there is no other reason she's not a superstar by now.
Which leads me to Darla, the only person I've met face-to-face who can talk about sex like its dry cleaning. No, I don't literally mean Darla or the actress--I'm speaking figuratively and names have been changed to protect the innocent. (If there is such a thing, to quote my favorite movie to quote.)
Erik has gently harassed me enough that I'm out there dating again.
So, Darla and I met at Un-Thanksgiving last night. It was an interesting program, but did not include enough Native Americans or American Indians or whatever you want to call them. And it's pretty much an unforgivable insult in my eyes to have another speaker prattle on longer than your keynote. So, this vegetarian pot-luck dinner and presentation was more of a subculture rally than an actual historical presentation of what happened to the 'Indigenous peoples of turtle island.' It was still moderately interesting for the first hour, but the tofu pot-pie was cold and even the delicious vegan gravy couldn't warm it up enough.
So, some of you must be thinking, "What the hell kind of dumb-ass takes a girl to a discussion of the genocide of the American Indians on a first date?!"
You either get it or you don't--it cannot be explained, so I won't bother to try.
There was backup plan in case it sucked. Quizzo at the Roosevelt. Darla was completely unaware of the quizzo phenomenon. We played. We lost. One round we didn't even listen to the questions, we just talked.
She comes alive in dark and dingy places in a way I've never experienced before, surrounded by skin suddenly glowing from a light within.
Which leads me to Darla, the only person I've met face-to-face who can talk about sex like its dry cleaning. No, I don't literally mean Darla or the actress--I'm speaking figuratively and names have been changed to protect the innocent. (If there is such a thing, to quote my favorite movie to quote.)
Erik has gently harassed me enough that I'm out there dating again.
So, Darla and I met at Un-Thanksgiving last night. It was an interesting program, but did not include enough Native Americans or American Indians or whatever you want to call them. And it's pretty much an unforgivable insult in my eyes to have another speaker prattle on longer than your keynote. So, this vegetarian pot-luck dinner and presentation was more of a subculture rally than an actual historical presentation of what happened to the 'Indigenous peoples of turtle island.' It was still moderately interesting for the first hour, but the tofu pot-pie was cold and even the delicious vegan gravy couldn't warm it up enough.
So, some of you must be thinking, "What the hell kind of dumb-ass takes a girl to a discussion of the genocide of the American Indians on a first date?!"
You either get it or you don't--it cannot be explained, so I won't bother to try.
There was backup plan in case it sucked. Quizzo at the Roosevelt. Darla was completely unaware of the quizzo phenomenon. We played. We lost. One round we didn't even listen to the questions, we just talked.
She comes alive in dark and dingy places in a way I've never experienced before, surrounded by skin suddenly glowing from a light within.
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