Hi, my name is missteenussr. You might know me from my amazing website, missteenussr.com. This site you’re reading right now is the brainchild of my eternally handsome and persnickety husband Nuv. It’s the best creative minds we know – writers, photographers, artists – all collected in a burlap sack and set to work in a damp cave with only laptops and tea for nourishment. My contribution, other than mucking around with all the words as Comma Police, is this column whereupon I let you know the best things I experienced all week via my eyes, ears, mouth, nose and delicate tapering fingers. Also, if you’ve never been drawn before, I HIGHLY recommend it. It’s like you become immortal and better looking all at once. Or maybe that’s just me. Okay, enough with the earnest exposition, let’s wrap this up. I think you’re gonna like what we do here.
The greatest trailer I have seen in a very long time is for Bitch Slap. It may have been late at night and I may not have been sober and I may not need to see the movie because the trailer is very long and gives away almost everything, but if you think about it being the greatest short film ever, we all win. After recently seeing the beautifully serious spoof Black Dynamite, I think/hope there is now going to be a shit ton of movies that are geared towards me: seriously not serious and sarcastic and stylish just because. The edible equivalent of my favourite cheese – the much maligned Kraft Singles. (When goat cheese tastes good sandwiched between 2 Tostitos rounds, call me.)
Does anybody else love the smell of good Scotch tape? The real brand name stuff with the green and black-checkered pattern, not the ghetto stuff that doesn’t rip off properly and turns you into a six year old because it keeps unspooling and not tearing off and finally with a jagged edge it comes free but then there’s 6 hairs from the rug stuck to it and it’s doubled back on itself and now totally useless. The same way a freshly extinguished candle reminds me of birthdays, good Scotch tape smells like Christmas. And I do love me some Christmas. Especially the part where I don’t work, eat Turtles and read the 700 books I need to catch up on. GLORIOUS. (Side note – I tried to google find a still from the beginning of Pee Wee’s Big Adventure where he scotch tapes his face all fugly, and I have never failed so miserably. Evidently the key words, ‘pee wee herman scotch tape face’ are chloroform to the internet.)
UPDATE! A glorious reader has so graciously provided me with the Pee Wee link. Laugh here.
It’s Christmas time, which means I loiter by the Club Monaco lineup and rub myself all over the cashmere gloves, scarves and sweaters. Cashmere – the wealthiest fabric ever invented and the best thing I touched all week. There is nothing that couldn’t be made better if it was made of it. Fuck it, I’d wear a cashmere tampon if they existed. I would also eat Coca Cola cereal though, so standards are fairly low around here.
Piggy came over to visit and made us a ridiculous meal and my favourite part was the spinach salad with poppy seed dressing. It made spinach edible again for me. I’d OD’d on it years ago when it was a daily staple of a super shitty diet plan I was on. This dressing is magically potent stuff. It’s made by Brianna’s and is the perfect blend of sweet, vinegary and teeny tiny crunches due to the seeds. I’m going to eat three bowls of salad tomorrow based purely on this dressing. That makes it by far the best thing I ate this week.
I heard the Yolks album the other day. Just new, but so positively ageless, and it has made me really happy to have ears. (I think sometimes about what sense I’d be willing to lose, because that’s how it happens right? A guy in a white suit lets you pick up one of five envelopes and then that sense is taken away. This is how I envision it when talking about this, so we’ll go with it. And the guy in the suit is Morgan Freeman.) I love listening to the bands that make me feel 16 again and ready to conquer the world and adventure and meet boys and kiss boys, or just sit in my room and listen to music while reading Spin magazine. Either or. It’s such a lovely throwback garage rock album that I simply love and highly recommend.
I thought I was the only one that thought about which sense I’d choose to let go off, if I had a choice of course. I decided long ago that I would let go of sight over hearing even though there are lots of things I could do without hearing, like snoring and noisy eating sounds people make. I have also considered which super power I would choose if it were on my Christmas list. Hands down, flying. Keep it up missteenussr