In Case You Missed It. . .

My SNL boyfriend and the ever-awesome Amy discuss the birth control issue.

I heart birth control.  And Seth Meyers.

In Case You Missed It. . .

Seth Meyers (the next big thing; also, handsome) was the guest on Letterman last night.  Brace yourself for a whole lot of handsome hilarity!

Even the Devil Disapproves.

There's a whole lot of handsome in this little clip.  Start watching it for the handsome; keep watching it for the laughs.


Also: Seth Meyers is the next big thing, saith the Mandy of 2003.

When It's Good to Suck.

As Mitch has shared, I got a new vacuum on Friday.  It was one of those purchases that emphasized just how old and boring I have become, not so much because I bought a vacuum, but because of how happy the vacuum made me.

You see, I spent all of last week in some sort of weird haze/funk.  (Matt called it a "faze," but that seems too close to "phase" which is an actual thing.  And "hunk" doesn't work, either, unless I want to make people think something drastically different.)  I wasn't sad or upset or anything, but I was eating like shit, and I got drunk twice without planning to do so, and I just never felt "with it."  And the house was a mess and I just couldn't muster up the energy to do anything about it.  Plus, I couldn't find my tweezers, or my fingernail clipper manicure set thing, or Mitch's Kong, and it was really starting to anger me. 

Nothing major, of course, but just off.

So I was explaining my haze/funk to Cassie on Friday afternoon, and during our conversation she told me about their new vacuum.  She went on and on, praising the vacuum, quoting reviews, and providing anecdotal evidence of how awesome it is (i.e., "Hugh says the mop water isn't nearly as dirty as it used to be.").  We discussed how, perhaps, purchasing the thing would help me to escape my haze/funk, and Cassie advised me to buy it.

And I did.  (In fact, I didn't even go home from school before I went to Target and snatached one up--they were on sale for $99!)

For two days all I did was vacuum, and think of other things to vacuum.  Matt would be all, "Want to watch another episode of Breaking Bad?" and I'd be all, "Ummmm, can I vacuum the sunroom first?"  He'd be all, "Want to cook dinner?" and I'd be all, "Ummmmm, sorry.  I'm busy vacuuming out all of the window sills.  Check out this suction!"

What do all of these things have in common?

Oh yes, they're all things I retrieved when I pulled out the refrigerator to vacuum the coils. (Martha says this should be done twice a year.)  It was disgusting.  Look at it.

Is that cocaine?

Was there a murder that took place under our refrigerator?

Is that a receipt from 2005? (Mitch's first birthday, to be exact.)

Why did the people who lived here before us buy so much bologna?

And why did I pour about two cups of straight ammonia onto this mess (after vacuuming it, of course)?  Why didn't I think to open the windows?

So, high on ammonia fumes, I continued on my maniacal vacuuming endeavor, forgot to eat, and cleaned the shit out of the house.  I found the tweezers; I found $49 in a bag I haven't used in months; I found Mitch's Kong; I found a pair of shoes I haven't seen in since last summer; I cleaned out the refrigerator; I organized all of the closets; I packed up stuff for Goodwill; I cleaned the bathroom; I did all of the laundry; I reorganized the bookshelves; I dusted.

But I never found my damned nail clippers.  (Matt probably threw them away, fearing that if I had nails that were too nicely manicured that they might attract Seth Meyers or George Clooney.)

This place is sparkling, but I look forward to it getting a little messy again, you know, so that I can use the vacuum some more.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd, I'm old.

I Second That Emotion

This guy's got a point. Plus, it's always fun to see my boyfriend, Seth Meyers.



Mmmmmmmmmmm, Seth Meyers. . . Mmmmmmmmmmm, Samoas. . .

SNL Charades!

Last night I was watching one of those SNL: A Look Back on How Important and Influential We Are shows, and I was thinking to myself, "Man oh man.  SNL sure does like to pat itself on the back."  (Full disclosure, so do I.  You should see how well I minced garlic tonight.  I have Hung-like knife skills!)  But, you know, I'm okay with SNL being a little into itself, because that shit's funny 65% of the time.  And when it's really funny, it's worth putting up with that Gilly sketch (formerly known as Mary Catherine Gallagher).  So I'll deal.

The show was also tolerable because it played some of my favorite skits from the last few years. (Justin Timberlake being Beyonce's backup dancer, Mark Wahlberg talks to animals, Laser Cats, etc.)  Unfortunately, I couldn't find good clips of these online (is this what that writer's strike was all about?), so you'll just have to rely on your memory.

Not long ago, Matt was flipping through channels and came across Jimmy Fallon's show, with Tina Fey as the guest, and they were playing charades against another very funny pair.  Hint: one of these people is my SNL boyfriend, and is the next big thing.

It's Saturday.  Watch; enjoy; play charades.



But if you try to steal Seth Meyers away from me I will fight you with a knife.

Seth Meyers Is the Next Big Thing!

When we first moved to Savannah, Tanya and I would loyally watch SNL. I quickly became enamored with Seth Meyers, and proclaimed time and time again: "Seth Meyers is the next big thing!" In some ways, I was right. He is the head writer, and he is dashing.

Still, every time Seth graces our TV screen, I shout out, "The next big thing!" Matt just shakes his head. If Tanya was here, she'd be shaking her head, too. They lack the ability to see into the future, apparently.

And this is how you know he's superior. I give you last Saturday's Eeyore joke.

In case you missed this last Saturday, here it is. If you saw it on Saturday, watch it again. It's just that funny.

NEXT BIG THING!