Friday the 13th, 2009. Part II

I'm spending at least part of mine screening the Urban Outfitters' catalog come-to-life that is the new Last House on the Left. I think it's gonna be fucking sexy. Why be ugly when you can be fucking gorgeous. I hope they all have sex with each other.

This makes me Happier

This makes me Happy.

For Lulu

I hate my brain.

Eight is Enough 09

I'm obsessed with watching Eight is Enough on MeTooTV.

I decided to recast for 2009 because I'm that much of a mental patient.
Actors today are so gorgeous, I'm not entirely happy with my choices, but casting for little quirks isn't as easy as it used to be.

*I did find a crazy amount of new girlfriends who would have at least gotten a private audition and a call back. I may write about them later.

Penelope's Cast:


Tom Bradford AKA Daddy




Michael Aday or Dave Thomas. My first choice is probably Meatloaf.

Abby Bradford



Toni Collette was actually my inspiration for the recasting. She's very Abby-ish. To me.

David Bradford



Kyle Schmid. Why not?

Mary Bradford



Spencer Grammer. Kelsey's kid.

Joanie Bradford



Amber Marshall. She's a little more Susan than Joanie, but she's old enough, she's my girlfriend, and she played Elizabeth Smart!

Nancy Bradford



Ashley Benson. She has all Nancy's assets.

Elizabeth Bradford



Sarah Ramos. C'mon! She's perfect.

Susan Bradford



Bonnie Wright. I don't know nuthin bout the Harry Potter movies, but she'll do.

Tommy Bradford



Graham Phillips is not terribly Willie Ames-ish, but he did sing on Bat Out of Hell 3.

Nicolas Bradford



His name is Slade Pearce, which is awesome. Kind of a mid-range Nicolas, but I like it.

08: Loved it, Won't Miss it.

Last New Year's Eve, I stared at a couple inches of wine in a glass for an hour, then set it down and decided to never drink again.

And I haven't.

That would end up being one of the smaller changes of the year.

It's been a complicated, wonderful, painful, life-altering 365 days. I wouldn't want to repeat them, but am grateful to have lived them and lived through them.

I have an amazing new/old life in a new/old city with new and old friends.

And a great love, the depth and importance (and challenge) of which I could never have imagined and couldn't begin to describe.

I'm lucky to be living and not just surviving.


09: Fucking Fine.

PF

Letter To The Masses

cc: all of Facebook
cc: all of MySpace
cc: all of AOL/AIM
cc: anyone left on Friendster (I probably spelled that wrong and hope I did)
cc: God knows how many personal ad venues
cc: and heaven help us all, craigslist
cc: all NY/LA/CHI shrinks
cc: any paleface with red (or reddish) hair, blue (or bluish) eyes, sparse or heavy freckles, large (natural) or tiny boobs, or large life-preoccupying nipples. Also, lesbians.

To Whom it May Concern:

After an amazingly pleasant, super fantastically enjoyable holiday with family and babies and roast beefs and bagels and presents and karaoke and movies and friends and the sweetest of lovin, I'm needing to be reminded why I shouldn't daydream about being semi-normal and wanting to marry my boyfriend.

I'm confident the hoards of you who have been touched (gag) by my darling, generous, talented, hysterical and deeply beloved partner can put things back into perspective for me.

I sincerely appeal to you as good women, men and everything in between. It's total insanity, right? Don't be fooled by a score of 96 singing The Rose (twice) on a poorly translated karaoke mic, right?


At least a couple of you have suffered from my specific disease of emotional weakness. Keep me in your prayers.



Yours,
P. Feinburg