Say it ain't so!
If you know anything about me at all, you should know that I am somewhat obsessed with Fantasy Island- and I am devastated to hear of the passing of my beloved Mr. Roarke. Sadly, I cannot find any YouTube footage of my favorite episode ever, the one where he battles Satan/Roddy McDowell. And wins with his mind. So bad ass, and yet so debonaire.
Good night, sweet prince, may your dreams be lined in fine Corinthian leather.
Fantasy Island episodes on Hulu
Showing posts with label Fantasy Island. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fantasy Island. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
I am in fact the girl with the most cake
A week after Thanksgiving, I have to tell you- I am a lucky, lucky lady. I really am, in fact, the girl with the most cake. And I am very, very, very happy all of a sudden.
I have an awesome show that people actually really love- and I can't tell you how happy that makes me. What I like most is that everyone gets to participate and feel a part of things, and promote their own stuff as well- so, it's like, not only am I doing something neat that I like doing, but it's also something different that's very much in line with my own sort of philosophy of life.
I have like, retardedly awesome people in my life. And lots of them. I'm totally giddy about it too- it's kind of funny.
I love my job. Which is awesome because I hated it for so long, and then the change of ownership changed everything.
My skin, after a really awful beard burn incident, has at last returned to it's natural complexion. Thank you, Albolene!
The only thing that is sad about life is that there is no more Fantasy Island on the OnDemand. I must now purchase it on DVD. Sigh.
I have an awesome show that people actually really love- and I can't tell you how happy that makes me. What I like most is that everyone gets to participate and feel a part of things, and promote their own stuff as well- so, it's like, not only am I doing something neat that I like doing, but it's also something different that's very much in line with my own sort of philosophy of life.
I have like, retardedly awesome people in my life. And lots of them. I'm totally giddy about it too- it's kind of funny.
I love my job. Which is awesome because I hated it for so long, and then the change of ownership changed everything.
My skin, after a really awful beard burn incident, has at last returned to it's natural complexion. Thank you, Albolene!
The only thing that is sad about life is that there is no more Fantasy Island on the OnDemand. I must now purchase it on DVD. Sigh.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Things that are good vs. Things that suck. A booze infused list I will probably delete when sober
Good things:
1. Two eggs, over easy, wheat toast, hashbrowns and sausage links. Right now, I can promise you that this is the most importantly good thing ever.
2. Mr. Catface being absolutely delightful.
3. The episode of Fantasy Island I am about to watch.
4. Writing in a bar.
5. Chocolate! I hope to find some in my apartment! I should have gone to Dominicks and purchased tiramisu before they closed. Alas.
6. Closure.
7. The awesome list of ways not to get murdered I wrote today, based upon my watching far too many true crime shows. I'm pretty safe, as I do not jog, I didn't marry my highschool sweetheart or anyone with the last name Peterson, no one would describe me as the All American Girl Next Door with a charmed life who smiles all the time and goes about lighting up rooms with her zeal for life, I have no Sears Portrait Studio pictures of myself donning a floral bib dress and an 80's bouffant, and I would not describe any of my neighbors as people who are quiet and keep to themselves mostly.
8. The most amazing episode of Intervention, ever, is now on the OnDemand thing. The huffing episode with the girl who feels like she's "walkin' on sunshine!" It's so, so disturbing, and yet I cannot turn away.
Bad things:
1. Camille Paglia
2. Dudes that I used to date or see or whatever being painfully, gag me with a spoon, jaw droppingly cheeseball-esque human beings. I tell you, it's absolutely painful, and it kinda makes me feel embarassed to be alive.
3. Tucker Max
4. Having to sit still for too long. I'm not so good at it.
5. The fact that no one seemed to want to be out tonight, when I was way too hyper to go home.
6. The guy who said earlier "what's a gal like you doing in a place like this?" I really wanted to punch him. A lot. More than you could possibly know. Like, A) dude, we are not in the country, and I most certainly do not appreciate being referred to as a gal anymore than you would like being referred to as a motherfucking redneck douchenozzle, and b) Really? You actually said that? Out loud? With the intention of my hearing you? What's next? Asking me what my sign is? Or if I come here often? Oy.
7. The fact that I cannot foresee myself remembering to take off my makeup tonight. And the fact that I didn't finish hanging up my laundry today, and thus will have to remove things from my bed in order to sleep. Sigh.
1. Two eggs, over easy, wheat toast, hashbrowns and sausage links. Right now, I can promise you that this is the most importantly good thing ever.
2. Mr. Catface being absolutely delightful.
3. The episode of Fantasy Island I am about to watch.
4. Writing in a bar.
5. Chocolate! I hope to find some in my apartment! I should have gone to Dominicks and purchased tiramisu before they closed. Alas.
6. Closure.
7. The awesome list of ways not to get murdered I wrote today, based upon my watching far too many true crime shows. I'm pretty safe, as I do not jog, I didn't marry my highschool sweetheart or anyone with the last name Peterson, no one would describe me as the All American Girl Next Door with a charmed life who smiles all the time and goes about lighting up rooms with her zeal for life, I have no Sears Portrait Studio pictures of myself donning a floral bib dress and an 80's bouffant, and I would not describe any of my neighbors as people who are quiet and keep to themselves mostly.
8. The most amazing episode of Intervention, ever, is now on the OnDemand thing. The huffing episode with the girl who feels like she's "walkin' on sunshine!" It's so, so disturbing, and yet I cannot turn away.
Bad things:
1. Camille Paglia
2. Dudes that I used to date or see or whatever being painfully, gag me with a spoon, jaw droppingly cheeseball-esque human beings. I tell you, it's absolutely painful, and it kinda makes me feel embarassed to be alive.
3. Tucker Max
4. Having to sit still for too long. I'm not so good at it.
5. The fact that no one seemed to want to be out tonight, when I was way too hyper to go home.
6. The guy who said earlier "what's a gal like you doing in a place like this?" I really wanted to punch him. A lot. More than you could possibly know. Like, A) dude, we are not in the country, and I most certainly do not appreciate being referred to as a gal anymore than you would like being referred to as a motherfucking redneck douchenozzle, and b) Really? You actually said that? Out loud? With the intention of my hearing you? What's next? Asking me what my sign is? Or if I come here often? Oy.
7. The fact that I cannot foresee myself remembering to take off my makeup tonight. And the fact that I didn't finish hanging up my laundry today, and thus will have to remove things from my bed in order to sleep. Sigh.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Oh hell to the no...
I just read that Eddie Murphy plans on doing a movie version of Fantasy Island in which he plays Mr. Roarke, and, of course, other multiple roles- one of which will no doubt involve a fatsuit. Ugh.
It was announced like a year ago or whatever, but I just found out because I was reading the wikipedia entry for the show. What? It's my favorite! Yesterday we watched an episode where Mr. Roarke battled with a totally flaming Satan played by Roddy McDowell, and mindfucks him into giving this chick her soul back (she sold it to save Adam West's life!). So glorious. Especially the part where Ricardo Montalban says "I guess you could say... I am in love with love." Seriously, say it out loud in the voice and you'll know what I mean.
It was announced like a year ago or whatever, but I just found out because I was reading the wikipedia entry for the show. What? It's my favorite! Yesterday we watched an episode where Mr. Roarke battled with a totally flaming Satan played by Roddy McDowell, and mindfucks him into giving this chick her soul back (she sold it to save Adam West's life!). So glorious. Especially the part where Ricardo Montalban says "I guess you could say... I am in love with love." Seriously, say it out loud in the voice and you'll know what I mean.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Yesterday was strange...
I guess it started getting strange when I found myself blanking out in the cheese section of Dominick's for five minutes while "To All The Girls I've Loved Before" played overhead. Which is less awkward, actually, than when they play Kelly Clarkson's "A Moment Like This" when I'm buying yogurt and box wine at 1am in pajama pants with my hair pulled into lopsided pigtails. It's happened, and it's kind of depressing.
Most of it was spent in the living room with Nicole, watching every episode of Fantasy Island available on the OnDemand, followed by every episode of The Facts of Life. Little known fact about me, I love me some Fantasy Island. Seriously, it's like, my favorite thing ever. Ricardo "Fine Corinthian Leather" Montalban and a midget fucking with people's dreams and then totally solving all their problems? Sign me up!
I want to put Ricardo Montalban in charge of my life, I feel like he knows better than I do. I have ideas about how my episode would go, but I'll save that for another time. Because by the time we got halfway through the episode of The Facts of Life where Blair's father uses her for tax evasion, the Emergency Broadcast System sounded.
I have never seen it actually used before. Like, ever. Usually it's "only a test." At first all the tornado warnings were for places that sounded far away... but when we heard Humboldt Park, we started freaking the fuck out. Jen thought it wasn't any big deal until we heard the siren go off. We scrambled to get the cats in their carriers and hauled ass down to the basement. It was totally like some ridiculous horror movie. Nicole was so freaked out that she dropped the wine on her way down the stairs. We stayed there for like, 45 minutes, watching the rain pour in, almost flooding the place, until it finally, slowly started seeping away into the drain.
I was fucking terrified. It seems like everyone we know had like, no problem with the whole thing. We were the only ones in the basement. But, fuck, at the end of the day, I don't give a shit. Something on my TV beeps at me and tells me to get to the basement, I go. I haul ass. I have no illusions about weather being my friend.
We had planned to go to Evil Olive last night with Kris, my best friend from High School, who came up from Florida to go to Lollapalooza. Instead, after the rain died down, we just picked her up at her hotel and spent the evening with The Golden Girls and some box wine. Having Nicole, and Jen and Kris all together in one car, or apartment or whatever is like my own personal episode of This is Your Life, because it's like- all my closest friends from various points on the Robyn timeline. And it's kind of awesomely weird, and shit, if I'm going to ride out a tornado, there aren't any other bitches I'd rather be with.
Most of it was spent in the living room with Nicole, watching every episode of Fantasy Island available on the OnDemand, followed by every episode of The Facts of Life. Little known fact about me, I love me some Fantasy Island. Seriously, it's like, my favorite thing ever. Ricardo "Fine Corinthian Leather" Montalban and a midget fucking with people's dreams and then totally solving all their problems? Sign me up!
I want to put Ricardo Montalban in charge of my life, I feel like he knows better than I do. I have ideas about how my episode would go, but I'll save that for another time. Because by the time we got halfway through the episode of The Facts of Life where Blair's father uses her for tax evasion, the Emergency Broadcast System sounded.
I have never seen it actually used before. Like, ever. Usually it's "only a test." At first all the tornado warnings were for places that sounded far away... but when we heard Humboldt Park, we started freaking the fuck out. Jen thought it wasn't any big deal until we heard the siren go off. We scrambled to get the cats in their carriers and hauled ass down to the basement. It was totally like some ridiculous horror movie. Nicole was so freaked out that she dropped the wine on her way down the stairs. We stayed there for like, 45 minutes, watching the rain pour in, almost flooding the place, until it finally, slowly started seeping away into the drain.
I was fucking terrified. It seems like everyone we know had like, no problem with the whole thing. We were the only ones in the basement. But, fuck, at the end of the day, I don't give a shit. Something on my TV beeps at me and tells me to get to the basement, I go. I haul ass. I have no illusions about weather being my friend.
We had planned to go to Evil Olive last night with Kris, my best friend from High School, who came up from Florida to go to Lollapalooza. Instead, after the rain died down, we just picked her up at her hotel and spent the evening with The Golden Girls and some box wine. Having Nicole, and Jen and Kris all together in one car, or apartment or whatever is like my own personal episode of This is Your Life, because it's like- all my closest friends from various points on the Robyn timeline. And it's kind of awesomely weird, and shit, if I'm going to ride out a tornado, there aren't any other bitches I'd rather be with.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Most amazing holiday ever.
And I missed celebrating it! I'm so sad! Aparently in South Korea, on April 14th, people who are not in love wear black and eat black food! I mean, that's pretty much every day for me- I look ridiculous in colors and I subsist primarily on black coffee- so, maybe I was celebrating and I didn't even realize it! Or something!
Meh. I don't know, I'm not one of those "blah, I'm going to mope around because I'm single!" types- and on the other hand, I'm not all Larry from Three's Company about it either- frankly, that's quite creepy. I seem to attract a lot of fellas like that- I think because I seem like the sort of person one is supposed to see whilst sowing oats and whatnot. I haven't been said person lately as I haven't had much inclination or energy lately to be whimsical- which is one of the required traits of the job. I have yet to be fairly compensated for my enlightenment and un-repression services and have thus grown tired of the arrangement. I have mental fantasies of saying this to most fellas I meet:
"Let's just fast forward through this whole thing, doll, because I don't have all day. What's going to happen here is that you're going to hang out with me for a few weeks, which will be a good time because I am indeed a good time. I will remind you of June Miller, or Marla Singer, or Lauren Bacall or whomever. But, then, you'll have some epiphany in which you realize that what you really want is that Nice Girl over there. She's a little bit homely, and not quite as fun, or as smart or as clever or as interesting- but she's sweet and she's stable, and that's what you really need after all!"
It would be so much easier that way. And I wouldn't have to bother with shaving my legs for the experience.
Meh. I don't know, I'm not one of those "blah, I'm going to mope around because I'm single!" types- and on the other hand, I'm not all Larry from Three's Company about it either- frankly, that's quite creepy. I seem to attract a lot of fellas like that- I think because I seem like the sort of person one is supposed to see whilst sowing oats and whatnot. I haven't been said person lately as I haven't had much inclination or energy lately to be whimsical- which is one of the required traits of the job. I have yet to be fairly compensated for my enlightenment and un-repression services and have thus grown tired of the arrangement. I have mental fantasies of saying this to most fellas I meet:
"Let's just fast forward through this whole thing, doll, because I don't have all day. What's going to happen here is that you're going to hang out with me for a few weeks, which will be a good time because I am indeed a good time. I will remind you of June Miller, or Marla Singer, or Lauren Bacall or whomever. But, then, you'll have some epiphany in which you realize that what you really want is that Nice Girl over there. She's a little bit homely, and not quite as fun, or as smart or as clever or as interesting- but she's sweet and she's stable, and that's what you really need after all!"
It would be so much easier that way. And I wouldn't have to bother with shaving my legs for the experience.
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