Showing posts with label david lee roth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label david lee roth. Show all posts

Friday, January 4, 2008

It is too late for Lydia Davis


Well, we haven't written an author letter to Lydia Davis inviting her to our meeting tonight, so it is highly unlikely that she will attend.


Oh well.


I like this photo of her because she looks startled.


And here is a link to McSweeney's Lydia Davis week, so we can all be up on our trivia--that way, maybe we'll actually talk about the book. Or not. You know, whatevs.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Heather is Waaaaaaaayy Better than Bret Michaels


I watched my first and last entire episode of "Rock of Love" last night. Bret Michaels is so gross. He is the reason why neither David Lee nor Bruce ever show up at any VL meetings. They are scared that he will be there, and that they will have to give him an insulin shot in his ass, or just watch him raunchily make out with us for 2 hours. The amount of kissing footage on that show is effin' revolting. I think 75% of the footage is kissing. And the other 25% is of Bret's blood sugar disasters.

I did love the moment where Bret asked both finalists to be his girlfriend. Even though it was clearly an oh-so-clever Bret-trick, both the girls were too stupid to figure out it was a trick, especially that Heather, who I sort of love. Mostly I love her because when Bret was having a blood sugar disaster in the dunebuggy, she didn't give a shit; she just kept saying: "No, I wanna drive it! I wanna drive it!" and then nearly killed them both. I also loved her outfit for the final showdown. That yellow dress plus the hair was freakin' awesome. I felt bad for Heather. I really feel like she and Bret are soul mates.

We should apply for Heather's friendship on myspace, which is where I found that pic, in which she is misrepresented and looks sort of good.

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Frances Johnson: the minutes


Observations about Frances Johnson, all of which are copular sentences (I think):


Munson is a lock-in.

Dr. Mark Carol is sexy.

Nancy is Frances' therapist.

Kenny is evil.

Frances' procedure is some kind of women's troubles remover (e.g.: period flowbee).

Curly-Dawn is an awesome name.


Mostly, when we like stuff (as was the case here), we spend a lot of time reading our favorite parts out loud, like the scene where Frances jokes with Nancy by smushing her legs on the hassock: "With a confused, myopic gaze, Nancy tried to withdraw her legs so slowly that the unpleasant dryness of stockings and skin scratched along Frances' legs, even as the woman completed the movement with a sudden jerk that made her hair fly." And so on. That whole scene is so good.


Quotes out of context


"I'm too busy and important to read things. I skim."


"They can still see up people's skirts though."


"He said 'sexy' six times!"


"I picture Stacey Levine looking like Jennifer Jason Leigh."


"Currently I make zero dollars."


"Oh, the tranny 'ho!"


"I'm sure he got the best BJ of his life later."


"Boys don't have friends unless they're all single and hang out in a pack."


"My marathon party will consist of people coming over to the deck to put ice bags on me."


Special guests


David Lee Roth did not show up, although I do admit I gave him very short notice. Still. You'd think he'd have made an effort.


Also, we missed Meghan.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

An open letter to David Lee Roth, using the methods learned at a recent business writing seminar


Dear Diamond Dave,


Please come to our meeting.


WHY I'VE CHOSEN YOU AS GUEST OF HONOR


  1. You are awesome.

  2. Your perma-grin.

  3. Nobody in Venom Literati can do those high kicks like you.

  4. You have the charisma.

WHAT'S IN IT FOR YOU

  1. Your song "Hot for Teacher" makes me think you might find one or all of us to be incredibly attractive.

  2. Beer.

  3. The chance to talk to someone who hasn't heard all your old stories about tomcattin' on the road.

  4. We will laugh with you, not at you.

WHEN AND WHERE



  • Sarah and Abby's deck

  • 7:00 p.m.

Be there, bitches. You know you wanna.


Love,


Sarah