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Tuesday , December 14, 2010
We're Obsessed: Michael Showalter & Screenmusings
You may or may not remember that two We're Obsessed's ago, I wrote an Open Letter to Lauren Conrad. Since it was such a smashing success (Lauren and I just spent the past week blissfully junk-shopping, eating Rice Dream, and getting pedicures; we're best friends now), I thought it would be cool to use the same formula to score myself a hot date via:
AN OPEN LETTER TO MICHAEL SHOWALTER:
My name is Laura Jane, and you're my male beauty ideal. I've always thought you were pretty hot, particularly in your guest appearance as Billy on seriously the best episode of "Sex and the City" ever. But for the most part, I was pretty ignorant about everything you've ever done until about two days ago. My co-blogger Liz posted about you twice recently, and I started thinking about you a lot more, and I guess, okay, whatevs, I guess I became a little bit obsessed with you. This is certainly not the first time I've stolen one of Liz's obsessions away from her and made a big obnoxious deal about it, but out of all those times I've ever copped Liz's style, this time is the best time. What happened two days ago is that I rented Stella on DVD. What also happened two days ago is that my life changed forever.
I have crushes on a lot of dudes. I really, really love dudes. They're so hot! Dudes, dudes, dudes. I love dudes and their hot dude names: Michael, Matthew, Peter, Paul, Jeremy, Ari Gold, etc. Totally boring and common boy-names sound like "knickerbocker" and "lassitude" and "wherewithall" to me, because they all belong to some correspondingly hot dude, and then they remind me of said dude, and I love them for it. All the names, all the dudes. Life is so good.
So there are a lot of them, these dudes, in my life. I see about ten of them per day, walking down the street in their hot jeans and t-shirts and crappy sneakers that I would tell them to get rid of if I were their girlfriend. But out of all these dudes, all of them, every last one of them, I like you the best. You, Michael Showalter. You win. And so where does this leave me? Quite terrified, frankly. Watching a Stella episode last night, I kind of flipped out inside my head. I realized that by you becoming sort of famous and me seeing your hot, imperfectly-perfect self on my television, I mean iBook, my chances of ever finding real love in this life of mine might have been entirely botched. You really are the dude of my dreams, Michael Showalter. And I can't accept that I might live my whole stupid life without ever coming across any other dude who compares to you.
So, that's where this whole "open letter" business comes in, unfolds, or opens up. You don't know me, but if you did, you'd know that my "thing" is infiltrating the lives of semi-celebrities who I think are cool and would like me. Congratulations! You're the latest semi-celebrity to make the Laura Jane Infiltration cut. But you're also the only semi-celebrity for whom the whole Laura Jane Infiltration process is centered around scoring. And when I say scoring, I think you know what I'm getting at: Me. Scoring. A Date. With You.
I honestly have no idea if we'd be a good match in real life, but I'm more than willing to find out. All I really know about you is that you're a) insanely hot to me, and b) really funny, but I'm sure you've figured that out about yourself at this point. Oh, and I totally relate to how you're the most erratic and vaguely daft member of your three-man comedy troupe; I'm by far and away the most moronic member of the nogoodforme team. Also: your haircut is the most mind-blowingly/mind-numbingly magnificent haircut I've ever seen on a dude! Michael, you're so handsome, you make Dr. McDreamy look like a dead rat.
We've got some things working for us; we've got some things working against us. Obviously our age difference is a bit on the severe side. Generally, in life, when a 38-year-old hits on me, my instinct is to think about what a total loser he must be to be hitting on a 23-year-old (I rounded our ages up since both of our birthdays are on the horizon; we're both late-June babies, craziness!!!!), but this time, I'm calling the shots. Whatever. I'm really mature for my age.
I'm not some creepy dumbass thirteen-year-old, Sho. I'm being realistic here. I've thought this whole thing through. I think that you and I should go on a date- no presh, just a chill date. Here's what I was thinking: a caper-date! See, I really like capers. Capers are my other "thing." Like How to Steal a Million or Bringing up Baby, only ten billion times scrappier. Oh right- "scrappiness" is my last, but certainly not my least, "thing."
So, Michael Showalter, here is my pitch, spelled out in the plainest of terms: You, me, and a caper-date. Maybe we could go to the Museum of Natural History, then grab some dinner? You're paying, of course; I wouldn't have it any other way. I was also thinking that maybe the two of us could document our caper-date using either digital photography or video, and then we could post the results to both of our blogs! See, Michael Showalter? When you date Laura Jane, everybody wins. Including you. Michael Showalter. Just hit me up at firstname.lastname@example.org, and let me know when's a good time for you.
I DARE YOU.
Hope all is swell,
I found out about this one from Bunnyshop, who we're so proud to claim as one of our Internet BFFs. The deal is that Screenmusings archives screencaps from a bunch of TV shows and movies, including a few of my verymost favorites (like Almost Famous, which I stupidly neglected in our big interview last week). I probably could've devoted a whole giant neverending entry to Velvet Goldmine and posted dozens of screencaps starring Christian Bale's lovely mug, but somehow I managed a bit of restraint there. So then, without further adieu, I give you lots of pretty girls and a couple of very saucy boys. (Liz)
My favorite scene in Virgin Suicides:
Kirsten Dunst as the Evil Queen version of Marie Antoinette:
Courtney La La Love in The People Vs. Larry Flynt (nice stems!):
Kate Hudson in Almost Famous, and I'm still dying for that coat after all these years:
And, finally, from Velvet Goldmine:
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