It's like a disease:
"Haha. It's like in Twilight when....."
or
"Haha. It's like in that one interview where Rob says/does..."
or
"Haha. If Rob were here I bet he would..."
It is my life now. And I'm cool with that. And thankfully, I'm pretty good at keeping it to myself when I'm out in public with my non-Twi friends. I just sink down into my insanity until someone shakes me and says, "Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you? I mean, we expect a little bit of weirdness, but you've been standing there with your arms wrapped around yourself giggling for a half an hour."
That's my awkward transition into this discussion of how prank calls and zoo animals make me think of Twilight and/or the glory that is RPattz.
Saturday night was a doozy (is that how you spell doozy? what exactly is a doozy? oh right...my Saturday night). We made banana bread and buffalo chicken empanadas (aka fried love), Landen ate carrots for the first time (orange is the new "it" color) and broke up a fight between the lab and one of the pitbulls (the pitbull came away bleeding, btw). At this point, life called for a little liquid relaxation so we commenced with the drinking. I honestly thought that I may have died and gone to heaven, drinking a Woodchuck, eating a super fucking fantastic buffalo chicken empanada, watching Guster on Ice with my besties, and generally decompressing from an extraordinarily long and shitastic week. I even laughed when my mom texted me to tell me that she and my dad were going out for a glass of wine while my brother was at an AA meeting. I raised a shot of Jager to my lovingly dysfunctional family and was glad that we were all on the same wavelength.
It wasn't long before Guster came out and Twilight went in and it was at this point that I decided we should make some prank calls. So Brad stole my phone and started calling the 4 random numbers that I have from the 3.5 days that I did the online dating thing. Thankfully he had the wits about him to block my number, and we left messages for all of them. Poor guys. At least one message was nothing but Leighann and I making a rap out of the phrase "animal attack."
Then, (lightbulb moment!!) I called 411.
Operator: City and state please.
Me: Los Angeles, California
Operator: How can I help you in Los Angeles?
Me: Robert Thomas Pattinson, please [drunk me was being pretty polite!].
Operator (who was a guy): You have got to be kidding me. Hold on please.
Me: Word, brother!
Operator: Would you like a text message of this listing sent to your phone?
Me: Abso-fucking-lutely [this was quite possibly the longest 411 conversation I've ever had.]
So I get connected to "Robert Thomas Pattinson" who lives in LA. I'm screaming, "Oh my god! What if they're really connecting me to him? Why hasn't anyone else ever thought of this? I am a fucking savant!" and Leighann is doing the animal attack rap in the background.
Unfortunately, I got connected to the voicemail of a definitely un-British guy. I left a message anyway, just to let him know that I had 411'd Robert Pattinson and gotten connected to him. I don't remember exactly what all I said, but I think I told him that this could work out really well for him and that he needed to do some research, buy some flannel, and start pretending to be Rob when drunk girls call him. Funny though, I never heard back from him. Also funny is that I have a text message with Robert PattERSON's address in it. I may send him a card.
That was Saturday. Sunday morning, my dumbass was up at o'dark-thirty, cleaning the house and washing dishes. Even the dogs stayed in bed. It was a weird sudden burst of productive energy, fueled by empanadas, hard cider, and Robward (natch). We eventually made it to the zoo. Let's take a photographic tour, shall we?
Animal Attack!
There was a box of Captain Crunch in the sloth enclosure. WTF?
Hold on tight, spider monkey (yes, I hate that fucking line. But I can't help it.)
So that's all I got. I thought I had more pictures from the zoo, but I think I dropped the ball on the camera duties. It was way too much multi-tasking for me...animals, baby, stroller, camera, witty dialog. I gave up once we got past the goats and the monkeys.
Next weekend's adventure will revolve around trick or treating. We're leaving the 'hood and going over to my parent's neighborhood. I told my mom that we will only except Twi-chocolate and/or five dollar bills. She laughed. I don't think she realized how serious I was.
**LATE BREAKING NEWS**
I just saw one of the New Moon spots on the actual TV!! And during the Skins game to boot. Woot woot! I screamed and squeed and generally made an ass out of myself. No one else was that excited. I am so freaking excited for this movie to happen.
Baby Attack! (Revenge!)
No you did not call fucking 411...and you're right...why the hell didn't I think of that?!? Poor LA Operator Guy gets this all the time. Maybe I'll just call and ask for his number to make up for it. And you should totally hook up Mr. Patterson with a holiday greeting ;)
ReplyDeleteI'm kinda brilliant when I'm drunk! ;) Leighann and I have been sending each other fan mail for the past month or so (even though we live about 10 minutes from each other). I suggested to her that we begin to include LA Patterson in the mix. Could be the beginning of some great correspondence!
ReplyDeleteOMG. We should send The Haunted Airman to LA Robert Patterson. Brilliance, I tell you! Brilliance.
ReplyDeleteThis sounds like a fantastic evening of brilliance. But I think you need to let us all in on the animal attack rap. It could be big.
ReplyDelete@FireCrotch: Well, you'd have to get me drunk first! lol It's really just more of a chant...we were trying to summon the PFach gods.
ReplyDelete