Dear Skechers,
Heard the good news. Buzzfeed informs me that you've brought back light-up shoes.
I am so impressed by your movement away from the modest, sensible, and horribly blasé look of your footwear. Everyone knows children are better, faster, stronger when wearing shoes equipped with lasers. Marc Rosko, Vice-President of product development for Skechers Kids (and ipso facto certifiable creep) has purported the light-up shoes to be the cornerstone of a "renaissance period" for children's shoes. Couldn't agree more.
Before today I would have said I'd rather die than wear Skechers. Now I want you. I want all of you. Forever. You and me. Every day.
I realize this 'Twinkle Toes' line is primarily for children, but I'll just say I'm usually somewhere in the size range of 8 through 9. Just send me all three.
Love to hate to love you,
Allison
Showing posts with label Childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Childhood. Show all posts
Monday, June 17, 2013
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Open Letter to Amanda Bynes
Dear Amanda Bynes,
Go home to LA to be with your parents. You're scaring the people of NYC. Your career is salvageable.
You and your Nickelodeon braintrust were among the most influential pioneers during the advent of the World Wide Web via AmandaPlease.com. Has anyone ever told you with great power comes great responsibility?
Even when you left Nickelodeon you were heading toward greatness. Your performance in She's the Man? My God. You were loving up on Channing Tatum before any of the rest of us even thought to do it. And now look at you.
Driving with a suspended license? That's relatable. Clearly I've never done it but I know people who have and they seem normal. Smoking weed at a Planet Fitness on 4/20? What? Cryptic tweets about murdering your vagina? Girlfriend, THAT'S WEIRD.
I get it--I really do. You were a child celebrity and we saw what happened to MacCaulay Culkin but that is NO EXCUSE. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AMANDA.
Your train wreck stage is hitting me harder than when Britney had her episodes--and I was sure that sort of pain couldn't be paralleled. Don't let me down. And don't shave your head.
Concerned,
Allison
Go home to LA to be with your parents. You're scaring the people of NYC. Your career is salvageable.
You and your Nickelodeon braintrust were among the most influential pioneers during the advent of the World Wide Web via AmandaPlease.com. Has anyone ever told you with great power comes great responsibility?
Even when you left Nickelodeon you were heading toward greatness. Your performance in She's the Man? My God. You were loving up on Channing Tatum before any of the rest of us even thought to do it. And now look at you.
Driving with a suspended license? That's relatable. Clearly I've never done it but I know people who have and they seem normal. Smoking weed at a Planet Fitness on 4/20? What? Cryptic tweets about murdering your vagina? Girlfriend, THAT'S WEIRD.
I get it--I really do. You were a child celebrity and we saw what happened to MacCaulay Culkin but that is NO EXCUSE. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AMANDA.
Your train wreck stage is hitting me harder than when Britney had her episodes--and I was sure that sort of pain couldn't be paralleled. Don't let me down. And don't shave your head.
Concerned,
Allison
Friday, March 8, 2013
Misheard Lyrics
Buzzfeed published an article last month entitled 15 Classic Lines From Misunderstood Song Lyrics, and overall I have to say I am severely disappointed. The author managed to include one of my favorite misheard lyrics--Manfred Mann's "Blinded by the Light", but failed to take the mistake all the way to the finish line. Buzzfeed mentions that it sounds like "Wrapped Up Like a Douche", but then cuts off. Are you kidding? Clearly the remainder, and most important portion, of the misheard stanza is, "Another Boner in the Night." Don't believe me? Give it a listen here (:15-:24)
Disgraceful. In my family we had a very extensive list of songs we thought we knew the lyrics to, but definitely didn't. Below I outline a comprehensive list of oft-forgot but very prominent misheard lyrics:
Song: "I Wanna be Sedated" The Ramones
Misheard Lyric at :35-:38 --"20-20-20-4 hours ago-o-o-o-...I Want A Piece of Bacon..."
Song: "Higher Love"
Misheard Lyrics at :56-:58 -- "Bake Me a Pie of Love, Bake Me a Pie of Love..whoa oh."
Song: "Stayin' Alive" The Bee Gees
Misheard Lyrics at :32-:37 -- "Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother...Stay in a Line...Stay in a Line..."
(^^This particular misheard lyric was definitely a product of the neurosis injected into us all throughout during elementary school about what would happen if we didn't stay in a line on our way to an assembly.)
Song: "Bailamos" Enrique Iglesias
Misheard Lyrics at 1:08-1:13 -- "Te quiero, a burrito, Te quiero..."
Song: "Funkytown" Lipps Inc.
Misheard Lyrics at :26-:31 --"Taco Party Taco Party Taco Party...."
Now, chronic non-believers may allege some of these might seem to be a stretch, which I can understand. But to these nay-sayers I proclaim there are OTHER instances in which I know for 100% fact I'm totally right about the lyrics.
Song: "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" Brenda Lee
Corrected Lyrics at :27-:31 "Later we'll have some fuckin' pie"
My sisters and I never asked about it--we all just assumed it was a "big girl" song that we'd be allowed to sing once we hit a certain age. Until that day came it was understood amongst the four of us that we needed to shift our volume from extreme forte to exaggerated piano to make sure we didn't drop the f bomb infront of our parents on our way to grandma's house.
Realization: With the exception of only one, which admittedly was not a misheard lyrics of my own creation, my sisters and I thought we were hearing food-related lyrics when we actually weren't...aka we were starving. All the time.
Disgraceful. In my family we had a very extensive list of songs we thought we knew the lyrics to, but definitely didn't. Below I outline a comprehensive list of oft-forgot but very prominent misheard lyrics:
Song: "I Wanna be Sedated" The Ramones
Misheard Lyric at :35-:38 --"20-20-20-4 hours ago-o-o-o-...I Want A Piece of Bacon..."
Song: "Higher Love"
Misheard Lyrics at :56-:58 -- "Bake Me a Pie of Love, Bake Me a Pie of Love..whoa oh."
Song: "Stayin' Alive" The Bee Gees
Misheard Lyrics at :32-:37 -- "Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother...Stay in a Line...Stay in a Line..."
(^^This particular misheard lyric was definitely a product of the neurosis injected into us all throughout during elementary school about what would happen if we didn't stay in a line on our way to an assembly.)
Song: "Bailamos" Enrique Iglesias
Misheard Lyrics at 1:08-1:13 -- "Te quiero, a burrito, Te quiero..."
Song: "Funkytown" Lipps Inc.
Misheard Lyrics at :26-:31 --"Taco Party Taco Party Taco Party...."
Now, chronic non-believers may allege some of these might seem to be a stretch, which I can understand. But to these nay-sayers I proclaim there are OTHER instances in which I know for 100% fact I'm totally right about the lyrics.
Song: "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" Brenda Lee
Corrected Lyrics at :27-:31 "Later we'll have some fuckin' pie"
My sisters and I never asked about it--we all just assumed it was a "big girl" song that we'd be allowed to sing once we hit a certain age. Until that day came it was understood amongst the four of us that we needed to shift our volume from extreme forte to exaggerated piano to make sure we didn't drop the f bomb infront of our parents on our way to grandma's house.
Realization: With the exception of only one, which admittedly was not a misheard lyrics of my own creation, my sisters and I thought we were hearing food-related lyrics when we actually weren't...aka we were starving. All the time.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
iThankful
I don't go home very often, but when I do, I beez in the trap.
I'm thankful for these tricks and for dental insurance:
My Thanksgiving is always a motley assortment of family, friends and traditional as well as non-traditional American holiday fare because I don't like turkey or stuffing or any other Thanksgiving food. This year's menu included Chicken Parm (f-ing delicious), a Halal turkey, and mac & cheese. I'm still not over it.
Highlights from this year included Val saying 'Grace' (fan fave), discussion about why Animal Farm the movie is THE scariest movie and the Redskins beating Dallas. RGIII (RG Tree) is my fantasy QB while Romo rides the bench so it was a little awkward, but mostly great.
I'm thankful for these tricks and for dental insurance:
My Thanksgiving is always a motley assortment of family, friends and traditional as well as non-traditional American holiday fare because I don't like turkey or stuffing or any other Thanksgiving food. This year's menu included Chicken Parm (f-ing delicious), a Halal turkey, and mac & cheese. I'm still not over it.
Highlights from this year included Val saying 'Grace' (fan fave), discussion about why Animal Farm the movie is THE scariest movie and the Redskins beating Dallas. RGIII (RG Tree) is my fantasy QB while Romo rides the bench so it was a little awkward, but mostly great.
Following our repast, my sisters and I take part in a Bacchus-inspired event that involves an iPod dock, 90's anthems, and dining room binge-drinking in leggings. I haven't dabbled much in Kings since 'Cuse, but on this particular holiday my sisters and I always play with eachother, our SOs (if they can handle it) and very close friends that may as well be family.This year we ammended the bylaws to account for incidentals of yesteryears:
My trip home reminded me of just how lucky I am to have my sisters as best friends. I'm thankful for the times I laugh so hard that my stomach cramps up. I'm thankful for the fact that Sheila downloaded the One Hour Photo Soundtrack instead of the movie and that it popped up while driving in the dark woods. I'm thankful for Toejam and Earl being available for purchase on Wii (RIP Sega Genesis). I'm thankful for AppleTV at my Dad's house and rewatching some of my favorite Breaking Bad moments (Skyler in the pool!) I'm thankful for my family, my friends and loved ones everywhere :)
Happy Hollerdays
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Ode to Polly
This morning my mom, famous for her curt, sometimes abrasive text messaging style, simply asked me one question (but endearingly failed to locate the "?" function on her ancient, brick-like cellphone):
Does anyone remember the story of Puff the Magic Dragon? If you don't, just listen to the live version I've linked in. It's pretty self-explanatory, but here is a spark notes version:
Young boy and mythical creature (Puff) become BFFs. Mythical creature is presumed to be figment of young boy's (alias: Jackie Paper) imagination. Adventures abound. Jackie Paper then grows up and leaves his friend behind, and for the purposes of the song the creature returns to his mythical cave dejected, sad, and nostalgic. Without joking, the story/song really touches my heart, and if the song describes a real life phenomenon, then I owe a serious apology to my former bff and confidant, Polly Pocket.
I played with Polly Pocket and her gaggle of pocket-sized biddies on a daily basis--often for hours a day. This was the exact house where the magic happened (so to speak):
God, it was magnificent. It wasn't until 3 years after I received this gift that I realized that the indoor garden (stage right) actually flipped upwards and became a computer room. Life was full of surprises when Polly was involved.
I loved playing with Polly Pocket almost as much as I loved the "Dear America" history book series for girls and Nancy Drew. Never got into Barbie (her fair freaked me out...), never owned a cabbage patch, and my parents wouldn't even let us have Alpha-Bits cereal (you know, with the marshmallow vowels) let alone dream of indulging our wishes for American Girl dolls. Polly was perfect for me.
My cat Crusty bit the heads off of all of my Pollies, but it didn't matter, I was still able to use my imagination to make something of her that she wasn't. I channeled all of my hopes and dreams into Polly's daily adventures. For instance, I was so ABSOLUTELY sure that on my 13th birthday I would jump out of bed, look in the mirror, and I would just be a Spice Girl. I'd be tall, pretty, and an internationally known diva. I truly believed in my heart that this would be true--and I created that scenario day in and day out via Polly. I waited patiently and dismissed most personal setbacks as temporary--after all, I was going to be a TEENAGER one day. Even if life wasn't always perfect, it would be perfect soon.
My imaginary story always followed this sequence. My metamorphosis into a Spice Girl (OBVIOUSLY I'd be Baby Spice...blonde hair and all) would commence immediately on my 13th birthday. I'd then go on to find my amazingly sweet high school boyfriend, and we'd be the shit and totally in love. I'd go to any college I wanted, I'd be a scientist, and life would be a non-stop party.
I was so ready for these life events that I even made a straight-to-video Polly Pocket movie--which at the time I viewed as more of an auto-biography written and produced by former Allison Gilchrist and starring the "new" Allison Gilchrist than a movie for pure entertainment. For the record there is NO shame in having a straight-to-vid blemish on my cinematic resume because Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen did it and they are (relatively) fine.
Being the entrepreneurial prodigy that I was, I had the foresight to include commercials in my movie. I knew I had to generate revenue for the remaining two movies in the Polly trilogy. Evidently I drew my inspiration from the ambulance-chasing law firm commercials that aired between Maury and Jerry Springer segments. I lined up 3 of my stuffed animal bears on the couch and spoke of the services they could provide for clients. A simple call to "1-800-The-Bears" would handle any medical malpractice cases my friends at the time were juggling. I was one letter/number over the correct amount of digits necessary for functioning toll-free numbers, but I was pretty close.
But none of my expectations ever came to fruition. I remember the last day that I woke up and tried to play with Polly. It was just going to be another standard day with my hot pocket-sized boyfriend in our big pocket-sized house (with secret compartments...obviously) in Polly's World, but I just couldn't do it. I remember feeling a block in my brain that just wouldn't allow me to remove myself from reality and into my former dream world. I just couldn't get into her story. That wasn't really my story, and I realized that I didn't even want it to be my story anymore. I was me and that's all there was to it. With a heavy heart I folded up her houses and Polly Sea-World and put her in my closet for good.
The imagination of a child is a fascinating concept--and it's a beautiful thing. But really, I'm just glad that none of my Polly predictions came true. A Spice Girl?? How would that be working out for me now...?
"Do you remember Polly Pocket"
OF COURSE MOM.
But then I got to thinking...
Does anyone remember the story of Puff the Magic Dragon? If you don't, just listen to the live version I've linked in. It's pretty self-explanatory, but here is a spark notes version:
Young boy and mythical creature (Puff) become BFFs. Mythical creature is presumed to be figment of young boy's (alias: Jackie Paper) imagination. Adventures abound. Jackie Paper then grows up and leaves his friend behind, and for the purposes of the song the creature returns to his mythical cave dejected, sad, and nostalgic. Without joking, the story/song really touches my heart, and if the song describes a real life phenomenon, then I owe a serious apology to my former bff and confidant, Polly Pocket.
I played with Polly Pocket and her gaggle of pocket-sized biddies on a daily basis--often for hours a day. This was the exact house where the magic happened (so to speak):
God, it was magnificent. It wasn't until 3 years after I received this gift that I realized that the indoor garden (stage right) actually flipped upwards and became a computer room. Life was full of surprises when Polly was involved.
I loved playing with Polly Pocket almost as much as I loved the "Dear America" history book series for girls and Nancy Drew. Never got into Barbie (her fair freaked me out...), never owned a cabbage patch, and my parents wouldn't even let us have Alpha-Bits cereal (you know, with the marshmallow vowels) let alone dream of indulging our wishes for American Girl dolls. Polly was perfect for me.
My cat Crusty bit the heads off of all of my Pollies, but it didn't matter, I was still able to use my imagination to make something of her that she wasn't. I channeled all of my hopes and dreams into Polly's daily adventures. For instance, I was so ABSOLUTELY sure that on my 13th birthday I would jump out of bed, look in the mirror, and I would just be a Spice Girl. I'd be tall, pretty, and an internationally known diva. I truly believed in my heart that this would be true--and I created that scenario day in and day out via Polly. I waited patiently and dismissed most personal setbacks as temporary--after all, I was going to be a TEENAGER one day. Even if life wasn't always perfect, it would be perfect soon.
My imaginary story always followed this sequence. My metamorphosis into a Spice Girl (OBVIOUSLY I'd be Baby Spice...blonde hair and all) would commence immediately on my 13th birthday. I'd then go on to find my amazingly sweet high school boyfriend, and we'd be the shit and totally in love. I'd go to any college I wanted, I'd be a scientist, and life would be a non-stop party.
I was so ready for these life events that I even made a straight-to-video Polly Pocket movie--which at the time I viewed as more of an auto-biography written and produced by former Allison Gilchrist and starring the "new" Allison Gilchrist than a movie for pure entertainment. For the record there is NO shame in having a straight-to-vid blemish on my cinematic resume because Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen did it and they are (relatively) fine.
Being the entrepreneurial prodigy that I was, I had the foresight to include commercials in my movie. I knew I had to generate revenue for the remaining two movies in the Polly trilogy. Evidently I drew my inspiration from the ambulance-chasing law firm commercials that aired between Maury and Jerry Springer segments. I lined up 3 of my stuffed animal bears on the couch and spoke of the services they could provide for clients. A simple call to "1-800-The-Bears" would handle any medical malpractice cases my friends at the time were juggling. I was one letter/number over the correct amount of digits necessary for functioning toll-free numbers, but I was pretty close.
But none of my expectations ever came to fruition. I remember the last day that I woke up and tried to play with Polly. It was just going to be another standard day with my hot pocket-sized boyfriend in our big pocket-sized house (with secret compartments...obviously) in Polly's World, but I just couldn't do it. I remember feeling a block in my brain that just wouldn't allow me to remove myself from reality and into my former dream world. I just couldn't get into her story. That wasn't really my story, and I realized that I didn't even want it to be my story anymore. I was me and that's all there was to it. With a heavy heart I folded up her houses and Polly Sea-World and put her in my closet for good.
The imagination of a child is a fascinating concept--and it's a beautiful thing. But really, I'm just glad that none of my Polly predictions came true. A Spice Girl?? How would that be working out for me now...?
Lucky for my conscious I can't look back on the end of my relationship with Polly Pocket and think of whatever the equivalent of Puff's "green scales falling like rain" would be for her. Afterall, Crusty bit off her head..tear-ducts and all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)