RobRant!! RobRant!!

So, every time I post it, in my head I hear Wayne and Garth saying "RobRant!! RobRant!! Excellent!!! Patry On!!!"

I have no idea why...but it works...go ahead...try it.

Anyway, as you may have guessed, this will be yet another RobRant.

I don't know why it is, but as much as I love that kid, he sets off something inside me~other than the old hormones.

Perhaps I need to change the name of this blog from My Wckd Wckd Ways to RobRant: Because Sometimes Beauty Isn't Enough.

So, in this latest edition of the RobRant, I'm going to address young Mr. Pattinson directly. Because it's my blog and I said so. Truth be told, while he's the straw that stirs my drink, he's also been icing my cupcakes of late (sounds dirty, but it's not...unless he gets that icing all over himself and I'm forced to lick it off...but I digress...)

So, here we go:

Robert! Listen up here, buckaroo! I have some friendly words of advice for you...and maybe some not so friendly rantings in the RobRant portion of the evening. I suggest you read, comprehend and get that thoughtful, pensive look that you sometimes have on your beautiful face. You know the one. You know what it does to us...and so do we. I'll do this in bullet form, so it's easier to read:

1: Hiding in Plain Sight: Dude, I don't care if you like to boink tree stumps or Harry Potter himself, so don't be making this about jealousy or whatever. I know the odds are greater for me to win a Gold Medal in Olympic Womens Figure Skating than ever having an encounter of the carnal kind with you, so don't be thinking that's what is driving this rant. Because it's not.

What I want to tell you is this: Currently, my pet, you are a man with a bounty on his head. As such, you need to be aware. There are ways to stave off the vultures. There are ways to stem the rumors you don't wish to address. And you're doing it all wrong.

If addressing the situation directly is not feasable (personally, I am a fan of directness and honesty, as I abhor people who are disingenuous) then you have two options: You can be MORE DISCRETE or you can play with your hunters. But remember, the critter who plays chicken on the interstate eventually ends up as critter du jour at the local roadkill cafe. Discretion is the better form of valor, they say, and I could not agree more in your case. Stay away from enclaves of paparazzi and their natural hunting grounds. Avoid places where they are known to be living and breeding. When going out with friends, walk with someone else, for when you are walking with the rumored one (you know we do not speak that name on this blog) it becomes a feeding frenzy worthy of it's own week on The Discovery Channel


2: You Can't Have Your Cake and Eat It Too: You want to be famous, yet you want to be private. Sorry, wrong answer. Part of the trappings of fame are the little nuisances known as THE PRESS. Because THE FANS, who are the ones who put you into the strata where you currently reside, want to know, THE PRESS will take whatever liberties they can to give it to them. Such is the high price of fame and fortune. If you wanted to remain a private citizen, without the invasions of privacy, the rumor, the speculation, the innuendo, the constant, chronic magnifying glass on your every move, then, my pouty lipped friend, you should have become an Accountant.


3: Overexposure, RPattz is Thy Name: Damn, but you are ALL. OVER. THE. PLACE! I LOVE you and I say this! It's getting so that I question even going to see New Moon! I feel like I was on set with you filming it, and have been living in your suitcase for the last 3 months! In fact, I think I was possibly the person who did the horriffic mending job on your precious Stoli shirt. You can't swing a Cullen without hitting something that bears your image or speaks your name. Scale it back a bit, hot stuff! Like Def Leppard once said, it's better to burn out than to fade away! I am going to harken back to point #1 here: discretion. That stinky toque you are so fond of and your Eyegor hoodie (Young Frankenstein reference) do not a disguise make. In fact, if anything, it draws attention and makes people wonder: OMG!! WHAT WAS RPATTZ DOING THAT HE'S TRYING TO HIDE!! ARE THOSE CIGARETTES?? IS THAT A BEER? OMGOMGOMG!!!. See? Scale it back some, my precious.


4: Play Nice: I've noted that when you are with certain people, you seem less nice than when you are alone. I don't know if this is just something I'm interpreting, or if this is something others have noticed as well. But, as I mentioned in point 2, the fans, for better or worse, are the ones who have elevated you to the level you are at. It doesn't cost you anything to smile, say "Hi" or "Thank You" and pose for a photo, which you do...when you are alone. Sad but true, people will remember the negative before they remember the positive. Say "Tom Cruise" to me and I immediately envision nutso jumping up and down on poor Oprah's sofa, screaming I LOVE HER!!!. See what I mean?


5: Character: Not Just For Playing in Movies: This goes back to point 1 again. If you are bumping uglies with a certain someone who looks like she was rode hard and put away wet, isn't it a disservice to each other to not admit it? To not want to be the one jumping on Oprah's sofa (I'll say this much: do that and I will burn everything with your name, image, performance on it as well as petitioning the State Department to revoke any and all visa's and access to this country that you have, sweetcheeks) But you get my point, right? At the end of the day, all we really have is our character. The kind of person you are. I'd hate to think that yours wasn't nearly as strong as your jaw line, lover.


So, there we have it. RobRant over. On to some air guitar and a little bit of RobLuv :D

After All, a Girl Needs a Hobby...

After months of resistance, I finally came around. I mean, you can only hear about it so many times before you finally heave a heavy sigh and look, just to shut some folk up.

As the Borg said, Resistance is futile.

I was hooked by the end of the first chapter. How can you not? You fall madly in love and you don't even know why. Edward Cullen dazzles you.

So it was that over Memorial Day weekend, having no money to be down shore, no plans other than drifting wherever the wind moved me, and, thanks to a head cold and miserably rainy weather, not much motivation to do much of anything, I found Edward Cullen. Happening upon a paper back edition of it in the CVS, I finally gave in to Ruby Anne's suggestions that I read Twilight. 72 hours later I found myself running through the raindrops in the parking lot of the Barnes & Nobel's, desperate to find the remaining 3 books in the trilogy, having devoured Twilight and the on line posting of the unfinished draft of Midnight Sun.

That's how I discovered Edward Cullen.

At the suggestion of no less than 3 very reputable friends, friends who shocked me with their devotion to a fictional teen age vampire, I ordered the dvd of the movie Twilight from Target...because it was only at Target that one could find the special 3 disc edition, you see. I waited impatiently until it shipped, and when it finally did arrive, I found my heart beating faster as I loaded the dvd player.

I already knew that the sloppily dressed, greasy haired English boy who played my divine Edward in the movie was not in any way, the image I had in my mind of MY Edward. Oh no, not at all. I'd seen photos of the lad. He was slight, scrawny, even, while MY Edward was a lean yet muscular god. MY Edward was neat, clean, and wore Armani. The English boy who played him? Looked like he needed a bath and directions to a good dry cleaner.

So, imagine my surprise when I found that, while physically, movie Edward was not what I had envisioned in my mind, he was the emotional embodiment of MY Edward. Edward's soul twisted and turned in Robert Pattinson's portrayal.

And so it came to pass that Edward Cullen led me to Robert Pattinson, my new hobby.

Yes, he's 22 years younger than me...but he is legal in all 50 states and Canada.

Yes, he's hygienically challenged, but wouldn't getting him clean be half the fun of it?

Yes, he's a terrible dresser. He can't button a shirt. He mends t shirts that deserve to be burned. He wears too tight, too short suit jackets. He wears those God awful Nike's everywhere. He wears wind breakers that look like he stole them from my father...and he wears them in 80 degree weather. But, the only thing that all of this means is that he'd have to be stripped down in order for me to rebuild and redefine his...uh...style.

Yes, he's English...but he does have an amazingly self effacing wit and fabulously hairy body, much to my surprise!

And, yes, this does make me a cougar, but it makes the rest of my friends, all the most wonderful people on earth, cougars as well, so I'm in very good company :D

Now, having read all 4 books of the Twilight Saga, as well as the unfinished transcript, and after repeated viewings of the Twilight dvd (with and without the hilariously funny commentary) I sit and wait impatiently for the November 20 release of the second film adaptation in the saga, New Moon, so that I can be with MY Edward again....


















Yeah...I know...I need a new hobby :D