Tuesday, September 06, 2005

seabreezes. bazookas. trach-punches.

today, csz pallies and i did one of the infamed "newsies" gigs for a well-known chicago department store (sounds like, uh... partial wields). it was a blast, and very simple. usually, we are stationed on street corners (state and randolph) or notable places (the art institute, millenium park) for a number of hours and pass out info or cando as people come by. we get great money for it - they trust our company a lot, mostly because we like being uber-friendly and all that.

this one was an easy time - we had to hand out frango mints for their 75th anniversary. people generally mobbed us, and our day was significantly shortened by the mobfest since we only had a certain number of items. my friend robyn and i were adorable and tore through 11 boxes of collateral a piece in about 18 minutes. YES! because of this, we had time between two shifts to go see a failure of a movie, red eye.

see this movie. moreover, see this movie with a discerning audience. it was super fun because this movie was somehow likeable and laugh out loud awful at parts. AWFUL! - and it was exactly what we wanted at the time. well played, red eye.

if you think cillian murphy is attractive, you've got a screw loose, because you like sociopaths.
if you think rachel mcadams seems nice and cute, conversely, you're human.

props to shad kunkle - my nemesis - who tried to scare me from a row behind during a "scary" part. it didn't work all the way, but it worked some. stupid shad. i got kunk'd!


Blogger Rance Rizzutto said...

"AWFUL! - and it was exactly what we wanted at the time. well played, red eye." It wasn't what 'we' wanted.

12:25 AM  
Blogger tara d. said...

rance is almost pissed because he can only feel being dead inside.

12:32 AM  
Blogger eileen said...

mmmm...cillian murhpy. i thought he was hot in 28 days later but his haircut in red eye makes him look like a dweeb. speaking of red eye, that phrase makes me laugh...

7:06 AM  
Blogger tara d. said...


8:35 AM  
Blogger Zach said...

From Ross Bryant's Blog, "Blast of Silence":
Jimmy Motherfucking Buffet played at Wrigley Field this weekend (twice!) with coconut-brassiered hoard in tow. Wrigleyville became a beer garden from hell. Clark street was something Hieronymus Bosch would paint after a Dos Equis power hour and a mild stroke. Sitting in a cafe, reading the Missed Connections with tears in my eyes and a lily clutched to my breast, I was jarred out of my wicked sensitive reverie by a gentleman, referred to by his crew as "Fancy," whose voice and wit revealed the aplomb of an air-raid siren. I turned to look out the window and beheld a sea of vomit-spattered Hawaiian shirts, sweat-pasted to the sunburned flesh of thousands of drunken revelers. Amid the throng of loutish men and besotted women there were pockets weeping, fighting, and amorous reconciling. I paid my bill (checking balance: $0) and the waitress nodded me away turning to the cluster of punk kids that has just wandered in, "you guys are pretty brave coming out here."

2:04 PM  

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