Thursday, July 30, 2015
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Saturday, September 20, 2014
I'd like to think I've supported you on a few of your big days, too, Jason. I drove over twelve hours to be in the audience the first time you performed in the San Francisco SketchFest and I was there a few hours later when you performed a second time. I've also attended quite a number of opening nights for your movies. I'm sure my $12 tickets made a huge impact on the box office stats for "Forgetting Sarah Marshall", "Despicable Me", and "Bad Teacher", I probably convinced at least two other people to see those flicks after posting my impressions on some social media site. This afternoon you are making an appearance at the Barnes & Noble at the Grove in L.A. and, while I won't physically be in the room with you, I will most definitely be thinking about you and sending positive vibes your way. A few days ago, when I found out you'd be signing books on the same coast I happen to live on, I actually consulted my calendar and checked on airfare to your hometown. Then I realized it would be a tad insane and stalkeresque to fly to L.A. on a Saturday morning, rent a car, maybe chat with you for one minute while you scribbled your name in my copy of Nightmares!, and then hop on a flight home that evening. I love you, Jason, and a plate of chilaquilles rojas from the Mexican joint at the famed Farmer's Market next to the Grove would've made my tummy extremely happy, but I just can't justify the trip. Also, I already have plans for tonight to celebrate my dear friend Tamara's birth and it would be really lame to bail on the unavoidable craziness that is bound to occur in the presence of nine, acapella-singing gay men. Despite my absence, I'm sure you'll have a stellar turnout, Jason. I wish you all the luck in the world and pray that your hand doesn't cramp up from all the autograph signing you're bound to do. If you happen to drop by a bookstore in Seattle to promote your new book I promise to be in the front row, grinning maniacally and totally creeping you out. That's just what best friends do.
Friday, September 19, 2014
Posted by WordNerd at 7:02 AM
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
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Sunday, June 15, 2014
Saturday, February 22, 2014
click here to have mind blown). Scary, isn't it? And to think I wrapped plastic tubes around my body and writhed around like a drunken fish out of water in front of other human beings. Like I said, vanity isn't really my thing, which will probably come in handy when I'm hanging out with my future bestie with some testes, one Mr. Jason Segel, and we are tailed by soulless paparazzi. I will have no problem looking like an idiot on camera in an attempt to keep those stalkers from snapping less than flattering pictures of you scratching your bum or picking your teeth or...whatever it is you do when you think no one is looking. The one thing I will ask for in return, though, is your willingness to have a couple of photos taken of the two of us together. You see, the one picture I own of me with you, my dear friend, was taken several years ago when I weighed about 25 pounds more than I currently do and, while my heart is filled with joy every time I glance at it in the frame with The Great Muppet Caper album cover you signed for me, I look rather puffy and tired. Besides, you're looking much healthier these days too, so it only seems right to have a more accurate representation of our fabulous selves hanging in my TV room. We can enjoy one moment of vanity, I guess, and then promptly return to acting like fools, no matter who happens to be watching.