So close

Feb. 19th, 2012 06:41 pm
opera142: (this shit is bananas)
So. I've been watching Downton Abbey Like I wouldn't be totally on that )

Also totally digging Doomsday Preppers.


Mar. 10th, 2010 06:03 pm
opera142: (crayons)
Not cutting because [personal profile] wishtheworst needs to be exposed. And because I have to wait until Saturday to see it because our TiVo is busy recording Idol~GO SIOBHAN. SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND, and Never Ending Nonsense Moe's Into. Namely shows about about white dudes surviving in climates other people have been a)surving in just fine for centuries, or b)staying the fuck out of for good reason for centuries. Also Biggest Loser. Because of ALLISON. OMG ALLISON.

When I want to watch an out-of-shape, huffing Precious lose at athletic competitions, it's complaints complaints, complaints. But throw in Allison and 20 people with bad hair, and Moe's all for it. Smackdown has plenty of bad hair! Why can't that work for him? And at least my fatty used to be skinny and post naked pics of his hot self on the internet. Perhaps, Biggest Loser contestants have done this as well, but I am not about to Google Biggest Loser + Naked.

So anyway, while I was kept away, mice played. Mice named Steph and WishtheWorst. First of all, knowing I couldn't watch, they dressed J.Gabriel in a garter. AND THE INTERNET IS BEING A DICK BY NOT GIVING UP A SINGLE PICTURE. This is the boy who last week wore the white vinyl chiton from the not-so-accurate-but-who-cares sexy Roman past. I want that damn garter.

So they do that to me. Then. THEN. OMG THEN GUYS. It's all Jericho and his butler. Jericho has a butler. Isn't it funny that Jericho has a butler when Opera would like the EXACT OPPOSITE. Like, every year at Xmas, she pleads for fic about Jericho serving tea to Regal BUT WE GAVE A BUTLER TO JERICHO INSTEAD. OTPCHATFICLOL!l!11FTW! And we gave Regal Bizarro Stone Cold Steve Austin YIP YIP.

All this wasting of preciouii! I will not have it!
opera142: (crayons)
What [personal profile] wishtheworst wants, WtW gets.

From the most recent Wrestling Observer: At Summerfestslam, Jim Ross, the Miz, Gail Kim, Show, and Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley filmed a segment for the Food Network's Dinner Impossible that will air in November.

Meanwhile, I filmed another 3-hour super episode of Sitting In the Ditch, In the Rain.


Aug. 15th, 2009 11:15 am
opera142: (crayons)
Smackdown kicks off with a re-cap of Everything Opera Doesn’t Like About Recent Storylines. An orange and wide Heel!Precious (who, btw, isn’t being hounded by Taker---more on that later, and has come back way too soon. heal your gut, lose 20lbs, and quit drinking like Lindsey Lohan), an ever-noble and doing his own thang Jeff Hardy, heel!Punk sans the blue pants with orange stars. Sadly this re-cap doesn’t lead to a lesson (perhaps delivered by Taker in Prussian drag) for the Precious in the subtle yet delicious differences between Good Orange/Bad Orange.

It does, however, lead to a pantsless Punk yelling, mainly about Jeff. When will my Hardy get a half-naked dude, prone to woodies while sweating, scolding him? Pops Hardy doesn’t count, and I’m sure just as there is in wrestling, Jeff got more of that particular chastisement too.

Teddy Long tries to right the evening. He scolds Punk (b-Precious, surely), puts him in a punishment match (another Wrong Thing: face!John Morrison), and pushes his managerial agenda. Except he’s way too nice about it, and no lurid thrills or pleasing terror can slither from the shadow cast by George Jefferson.

Jeff arrives, bringing with him a Great and Terrible Orange. Wal-Mart really needs to stock other aerosol products so the Hardys can throw those things into bonfires. This spray tan nonsense is yet another Thing Opera Doesn’t Like About Recent Storylines. JR claims Jeff walks gingerly, which causes Moe to yell “The Ginger Enigma!” Which causes me to decide that should I ever become a super hero or a stripper, my name will be Ginger Enigma.

Jeff claims “He’s hurt, but he’s here… IN YOUR FACE.” No one has a retort, so the segment flees to a commercial break.

In the dank crypts beneath the arena, the Phantom of the Card torments Runjin. It is revealed Runjin is Khali’s brother. So it’s TWO wrong brothers starring in the kidnap/torment scene. When I demand breadcrumbs, Steph, what I really mean is artisan ciabatta rubbed with olive oil and garlic. Appease me, and quickly!

Also backstage, but apparently not caring about federal crimes being committed by his employees while on workplace premises, is Teddy Long. Mr. McMahon reminds him he’s on probation and makes him book a handicap match between Jeff and the Hart Dynasty. Fine, Vince. I put Steph on probation!

More Finlay, Mike Knox, and Dolph Ziggler nonsense. Why does Rey have to get all these guys over? Can’t Hunter make a star or two for once? Maria and Melina wonder about that too, until Layla tells them the camera’s on.

Punk and Morrison wrestle. Finally, some swooning at the sublime can happen. Flippy and counter-y and smooth execution and Smackdown should be 1hr45mins of them wrestling each other, and few minutes of M. Hardy doing things that I will complain about.

More Kane and Runjin. Kinda-sorta lurid thrills to go with Punk and Morrison’s sublimeness. If only there weren’t 875412886 logic errors in this.

Melina pinned Layla in a stunning upset. Cryme Tyme lost to Big Show in a stunning defeat. Jericho was cloaked behind JR, at the announcer’s table, lest he incite the crowd to cheering or caring or getting their money’s worth.

Khali comes to Runjin’s rescue. Since Teddy wouldn’t call the police, Khali had to call himself. After a wee bit of bondage/ropeplay, Kane and Khali get into the harder stuff. Then Kane leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Oh look, it’s Jeff Hardy being the noble, injured, beset upon, outnumbered face fighting the good fight. More flippy, and anytime Tyson Kid yells (he sounds like Chris Tucker) I’m entertained. The match goes haywire, Punk then Morrison show up and brawl. The Precious blunders in, on the lam for jacking X-Pac’s bandana. Moe laughs at the Precious’ voluminous mumu, and I sulk so thoroughly it takes me minutes to realize, Matt got a haircut. It’s an awful Gavin Rossdale bob, but it’s a start. He also seems to go face, which I distrust as he made over-the-top, ACK-tingesque gestures with the hand Jeff broke. Smackdown ends as I peer suspiciously at my television screen. Probation for nearly everyone!
opera142: (Default)
As of April 15th, my two favorite music channels, Retro-Active and Americana are gone. Replaced with yet another fucking 80's channel and some country-hits--of-the-90s bullshit.

Why is all my media betraying me? WHY
opera142: (bleach)
It has not been above freezing here since December, and I'm sick of it. I am sick of days in which the highs are below zero. I'm sick of it getting dark at 4:30.

Work is a warzone. The in-fighting is nasty, and being waged for the pettiest of reasons. People suck. Today, I kept my head buried in a thousand-million tax forms, didn't speak to hardly anyone, and waitedwaitedwaited for the lottery fairy to drop some freedom on my head. Forget riches, I just want enough to buy a hidey-hole far away from everything. Me, Moe, Miss Miller and NO ONE ELSE EVER NO ONE BUGGING US. Peace and quiet, and the luxury to waste my days fucking around. That's all I want.

Moe and I had Chinese the other day, and I didn't get a fortune with my cookie. I got a threat. YOU THINK IT'S A SECRET BUT IT'S NOT.

I'm in a God-dammit-why-do-I-bother mood about everything. Writing, friends, hobbies, work, humanity. I'm working myself into a very pleasant, selfish snit. Only my interests matter; I'm sick of listening to yours.
opera142: (bleach)
-Oh how the Preciouii have fallen. They walk upon barren earth and feel only bitter winds and endless thirst. Misery and defeat chafe their spirits. My adoring gaze is the kiss of death. Sorry Matt, Jerky, Eli.

-I have lost my writing self-esteem. I hate my writing so fucking much. I reread it, and all I see is UR TRYIN 2 FUKIN HARD DUMB SMELLY DOUCHEFACE GO SMELL BADD SUMWHERE ELSE. I wish I knew, if the stuff I write and they way I write it and the goals/aims I have in writing the way I do are ever going to pan out. I don't mind wrong turns and taking the long the way; it'
s dead ends I fear.

-My life is blessed, right? Because these are my problems.
opera142: (this shit is bananas)
Went to the dentist to have some work done on the tooth next to the tooth that broke. First they made of mold of area by squirting foamy "material" into my teeth. Gross, but doable. Then the assistant said "Okay, one more of a slightly bigger area." She filled my whole mouth and the foamy stuff expanded and I couldn't breathe and my heart started going a million beats a second and I went dead cold and the assistant sniped at me "If we take it out now we'll have to do it again and it won't be any better for you!" NEVER AGAIN WILL THERE BE DENTAL FOAM IN MY MOUTH EVER.

Moe and I went on a gift card bender today. I brought a bookshelf from Pier One, and I was super giddy over the whole deal. I saw it before Christmas. At 400 bucks it was out of my willingness-to-pay-400-bucks price range. I asked for Pier One giftcards, but sadly my post-Christmas take of P1 giftcarfs only totaled $100. We stopped in to see what 100 bucks would get us, and YAY the bookshelf was on clearance for $249.00. So we bought it and a ball that when you squeeze it bloody bugs come out.

I also bought 7-dollar pants at the Lands End Outlet, a pair of running shorts, and a cd (Crooked Still-- Still Crooked). Moe got a NorthFace jacket and a workshirt. We ate lunch at Ruby Tuesday and it was super gross. You're welcome, US economy.

SD At first I didn't think Beth was wearing shoes )


opera142: (Default)

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