The curse of Arrested Development...

Translation: or shows that never got the chance to bombard your television with quality programming.

I am a huge fan of Arrested Development. It’s weird, quirky, hilarious…and oh so very dead. I’ll admit I didn’t get into this show until a year or so ago, but it’s a wonderful combination of dry and satirical (and I’ve seen every episode about 6 times and still love it). It’s the kind of humor that goes straight over the heads of many, many American TV viewers- people more interested in whether or not Snooky and Pauly D hooked up would definitely not understand the nuances of the Bluth household. America- I shake my head in your general direction. Arrested Development managed to pull off some of the best entendres:



And found clever ways to bring up the previous work of all its cast (like Buster, who did the Volkswagen Mr. Roboto commercial everyone loved a few years ago):




But once again, this thought got the wheels turning in my noggin. There are several other shows that mimic the brilliance of A.D. that also got put off the air before they really hit their stride. And you know what else is weird? Many of the same actors from A.D. were characters in these other shows. Which begs the question, are Michael Bluth and co. doomed to be cast out in the shadows of TV’s past?

Take for instance the show Better Off Ted. My parents got me into this one (and I repaid them the favor by getting them hooked on A.D., I’m generous). It lasted a paltry two seasons, but the ride they take you on along the way is absolutely hilarious. Portia de Rossi (for those of you unfamiliar, she played Lindsay in A.D.) really makes this show. Exhibit A:



But there are so many instances of hilarity we’d be here all day. Moving on!


Running Wilde…this starred Gob Bluth, more commonly referred to as Will Arnett (Y’know, the dude married to the insanely funny Amy Poehler). I’ll admit, his character was exactly the same as Gob in this show, but with a guest spot from David Cross (also of A.D.) it was like a mini reunion. One that only lasted for like 8 episodes. The show had promise, but much like A.D. was on the evil Fox network that would rather show reruns of Cops than peculiar programming with a cult following. Exhibit B:



I couldn’t find many clips on Youtube. There are some real gems in these episodes…that clip really only skims the surface. If you’re one of the ten other people that watched this show, you know what I’m talking about.


Finally, there is the very recently canceled New Adventures of Old Christine. This had a healthy five season run, but out of nowhere was canceled right before season six started filming. Diehard A.D. fans remember Elaine Bennis Julia Louis Dreyfus was a guest star as Maggie, the not really blind lawyer prosecuting the Bluth family. But Old Christine was the story of a woman you wanted to hate due to her being a self admitted dumb ass, but couldn’t help but love. Wanda Sykes was also great in this show, hell I couldn’t pick a favorite out of this cast. I am really sad to see this one go without any resolution, since cancellation didn’t seem like a possibility when season five ended. Exhibit C:



Other funny clips weren't able to be uploaded from youtube but can be found here and here.

I am sad to see all three of these shows gone, Christine is at least in syndication, and all are available on instant Netflix. But in the end all I can hope for is that the people of Fox hear the words repeated by every Bluth on A.D: “I’ve made a huge mistake.”

Arrested Development the movie- wait for it.

"So you're saying my crotch would go into the pole?"

Coco is my hero. There is no man on planet Earth that does awkward funny better. If you haven't caught his new shew on TBS, you're totally missing out. I mean, I dvr it because it is on waaaay past my bedtime, but me being an old fart and Conan being funny are completely unrelated.

I am back from the Cheese state and actually thankful for the balmy 35 degrees it is here in Michigan because Wisconsin was FREEZING. So aside from being the home of cheese and really sheisty football teams, we can add "top three places to go if you'd like to die of hypothermia." What are one and two you ask? Russia comes in at two, and Oprah's embrace comes in at number one.

Goodnight moon.

Coexistence: what the farmer does with the turkey - until Thanksgiving.

Translation: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I know this is a day early but we will be en route to Cheeseland (Wisconsin) tomorrow. The enemy state, yes, but as long as the Packers fans have turkey stuffed in their mouths I should be OK. Come to think of it, do they ever NOT have something crammed in their mouths? Be it cheese or bird or spite.

In the spirit of giving (wrong holiday, being nice confuses me) I wanted to share with you a video from SNL that is ACTUALLY FUNNY. This is thanks to my Mom who showed it to me:



And I've had "Hap, Hap, Hap, Happy Thanksgiiiivinnng" stuck in my head for about a week now. But this year I am thankful for a large and ever expanding family that are always there for me, crazy ass friends who I would be nothing without, and a boyfriend who, through all the trials and tribulations of a long distance relationship over the past 2 years, still gives me butterflies every time he tells me he loves me. For all the bitching I do about life in Michigan, I know there are far worse things that I could be going through.

I am also thankful for the 2011 convertible Camaro and Johnny Depp. And the thing I am most thankful for this Thanksgiving: the end of Oprah's tenure on network television. I think I may need to plan a party to celebrate.

I was recently asked if I had plans to go shopping on Black Friday, to which I replied:"I prefer not to deal with smelly rude people in stores at the ass crack of dawn. I can do that on the internet for free."

And on that note, I wish you all a Happy Turkey Day. May your pants be stretchy, and the football endless!

If my belongings could talk, would I be embarrassed?

Translation: …or would we find other ways to discover your awkward secrets?

Do you ever ponder your own death? I do, but not in the aspect you’d think. Personally, as long as I go out in a ball of fury (think high speed car chase a la Thelma and Louise) I’m ok with my own death. What frightens me more than anything is all the crazy shit my family will find when they go through my belongings. But thankfully, I’m not dead yet! (Couldn’t resist a Monty Python reference)

Whoever has the unfortunate task of sorting through my storage locker…I’m sorry and embarrassed all at the same time. When you find the blue bin marked “Textbooks” just light it on fire. There are no textbooks in that bin, no, I wrote “Textbooks” all over it in hopes you’d find that so mundane you’d automatically throw it out, but…what is inside is haunting audibly, visually, and tactilely. When you remove the lid your face will recant in horror—because you had no idea someone with such impeccable taste as myself could ever stoop to such a low…and no one else needs to know I’ve held on to every item of Spice Girls merchandise released before the year 2000. The horror, the shame…the morbid curiosity as to why (we were all 12 year old girls once. Most of us anyway).

Yeah, that got you thinking. When you die, that beanie baby collection you thought was secret (I’m talking to you, men ages 20 and up)—BAM—EXPOSED. The insane amounts of pornography you’ve collected over the years (I’m talking to you, ladies ages 20 and up) –BAM—EXPOSED. So when you die your family finds out you are actually a large man-child with a Peter Pan complex who wasn’t hugged enough as a baby or an insane sex addict with a penchant for Chuck Norris look-a-like porn’s. You just looked like someone who was into receiving a roundhouse kick post coitus but no one ever mentioned it aloud.

These are not the final memories you want to take with you to the grave. Your eulogy should read nothing of the hidden Hannah Montana DVD collection you’ve been keeping secret for five years under that loose floorboard. I could not think of a more embarrassing epitaph than “Here lies John – State wrestling champion turned Clay Aiken fanclub president.” I’m sensing those two could somehow be related, and deleting your browser history is recommended weekly.

Let’s face it, I don’t care who you are- there are some things about you that you do not want anyone in the world- let alone (ahem, especially) your family finding out about you. Some people keep toe nail clippings in a jar hidden in the back of their closet. Others buy used chewing gum off eBay. What’s worse, some of them even chew it again before putting it back (if you thought ABC gum was just for 5th graders…so wrong). Whatever floats your absurdly peculiar little boat, friends. You’ve got so many secrets it’s more like a dinghy floating into a dark abyss. Hehe, I said dinghy. Anywho…

If you don’t want people to know you’ve held on to incriminating articles that could be used to ridicule you after you’re gone and totally unable to defend yourself (imagine the fodder over the Thanksgiving table…your collection of Backstreet Boys memorabilia fueling the conversation…) my advice to you is- invest in an uncrackable safe only you know the combination to. In the event of your death make sure that thing is BURIED WITH YOU. Because we all know the saying “I’ll take it with me to my grave” is so much more meaningful when you’re talking a notebook full of Justin Bieber news clippings, and not secrets.

But please, feel free to share your dirty little secrets with me. We can dish over a bowl of popcorn while we watch one of my four copies of the movie SpiceWorld. People of the world, Spice up your life…

Things aren't always as they appear.

Translation: I changed the url of the site from kategravelle.blogspot.com to katvondevious.blogspot.com ...because let's face it, Devious is wayyyy easier to spell than Gravelle. So if you've bookmarked me please update (and thank you for your letting me occupy space in your web browser).

Will be back tomorrow with more insanity.

When keeping it real goes wrong...

Translation: ...or things I learned about myself while back in Texas.

So, sorry I have been scarce since my near melt down thanks to my stats class. I still hate numbers more than I hate Oprah, but what can you do? It seems, in this life, we are destined to deal with both. However, I spent an amazing weekend in sunny, warm, wonderfully friendly Texas. When I came home I had both schoolwork and actual work demanding my full attention (with a sprinkle of jetlag), but thankfully I had today off from subbing to finish the former so I could bring you the crazy.

Needless to say, there are several things I learned about myself when I went to Dallas for my cousin's wedding:

1. I like to brag. I look for any excuse for people to ask me what I do for a living to show them that not only am I a giving human being, I am honorable...dammit. I pridefully tell people I do a job most people would fear/hate (some guesses of my line of work have included working for the IRS, defusing bombs, or stripping. Thanks for the vote of confidence, friends and family...). Most people think being a substitute teacher would suck more than working for the IRS. But I truly enjoy it. And instead of just calling me Miss G (because the first initial of my last name is the only pronounceable part) my students have taken to calling me Miss G6...because I'm fly. Reference: Far East Movement's song "Like a G6." My students have chosen to flatter me in a manner I can understand: by feeding my ego via a rap song. *Tear*

2. When If I ever get married my father/daughter dance will be to Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" and if you don't like it- no open bar for you (said in Soup Nazi's voice). Also, I plan on playing plenty of songs that will either embarass you (think Chicken dance) or make you feel like you're at a Junior High dance (think Boyz2Men). Basically I want to alienate you to the point of leaving, just not before you've dropped off that waffle maker I had my eye on.

3. I can actually take care of children. I'm not talking my students. I'm talking BABIES. I watched my 15 month old niece Hayley practically all weekend to give my brother (from here on out referred to solely as Mr. Mom) a break. And she liked me. I refused to change diapers, but she liked me. Also, 5 of my other nieces and nephews seem to be warming to the idea that Aunt Kate is "the fun one." I am totally ok with this because again, it feeds my ego, but this time in a manner that tugs on my heartstrings. *Tear*

4. The stars at night really are big and bright deep in the heart of Texas. The beer is also colder, the bar trivia effortlessly more fun, and the drunks much more pleasant to be around, but probably because I am one of them.

5. After like 20 some odd years I think my sister and I have finally found a way to manage our time and actually enjoy each other's company (and by enjoy I mean not want to kill each other). This system involves Mexican food, trashing old and/or current boyfriends, and a healthy dose of Chappelle's Show. Combine those three things and its like a cure all for sisterhood. Screw the traveling pants nonsense, all you really need to know is what happens when keeping it real goes wrong...

Chappelle's Show
When Keeping it Real Goes Wrong - Darius James
www.comedycentral.com
Buy Chappelle's Show DVDs Black Comedy True Hollywood Story

And on that note- I'M RICH BIATCH!

"The probability of someone watching you is proportional to the stupidity of your action."

Translation: I just spent over seven hours working on statistics problems for my M.A.E.D. Why in God's name I need to know how to plot histograms and find the standard deviation of eight million numbers as a future ENGLISH TEACHER is absolutely beyond me. Seriously. I am pretty sure I won't be teaching my kids how to write using only the binary code?! Unless they're robots. And in which case, the curriculum at the University of Phoenix is not going to prepare me for teaching terminators.

This was going to be a post about unbelievably excited I am to go to Texas in two days, but even the concept of putting words together (never mind my awesome ability for sarcasm) at this point might cause me to have a brain aneurysm. So I feel as though if I blog about going to Texas again, this time I really will act like the inbred doofus you all believe we are anyway, and dammit I just can't let that happen!

But back to stats class...my Dad used to tell me as a child "Katy, it's all about math." Everything in life can be explained by math. As a pilot, I understand how this applies to him. So maybe I'll drop all my stat's problems off on him in a few days just so I can say "Dad, it's not all about math nowadays...its all about paying other people to do the shit you can't do." And then run away using my famous zig-zag method so he can't catch me through the crowd (perhaps I won't wear heels to my cousin's wedding. I'll need better traction).

And as for everything in life being explained by math? Well, I suck at math so that would probably answer why I currently (cough, cough the past ten years cough, cough) suck at life. Geeze, as an English teacher I probably could've put that more eloquently...so here you go: My failures and lack of mathematical ability correlate to surmise that my existence is both derisive and imprudent. Better?

Moral of the post: if I hear the words "data" or "analysis" used within the next 24 hours my head will explode. And nothing but numbers will fall out of it. It will be like a gritty reboot of the Count's "Number of the Day" sketch from Sesame Street. "The number of the day is 85- as in Kat Von Devious' head is in 85 pieces! Bwhaha!"

This ain’t my first rodeo.

Translation: And I’m not your stereotypical Texan.

Last week I taught a group of 8th graders...I had subbed for several of these kids before, so many of them know I recently moved from Texas to Michigan. All of them question why, and I totally don’t blame them.

Anyhow, the students that didn’t know who I was were bummed after I introduced myself because they heard the sub from Texas is totally awesome. It was then I informed them I am said substitute teacher. To which several students replied, “But...Miss G…you don’t SOUND Texan?!” I also relayed to them I hate country music, I’ve never ridden a horse to school, and I don’t own cowboy boots or a hat.

This was extremely disappointing to the children (the poor, poor children!). However, I think I taught them a valuable lesson on why you shouldn’t read into stereotypes. Plenty of my friends don’t have Southern drawls or that cowboy swagger (but we all have excellent aims).

Being from Texas up here is pretty much equivalent to being a mythical creature. People look at me with wide-eyed wonderment when they hear where I hail from. With the size of their saucer-like eyeballs you’d think I was a damn unicorn. Or Angelina Jolie (I WISH). They wait with baited breath and become deathly still, waiting for the words to roll off my tongue with that twang they hear in all those Western flicks.

Aaaaaaaannnnddd then I utterly disappoint them because I sound like a completely normal person. So I pepper in plenty of “yall’s” in my regular speech, just to make them giddy. Because when you’re in the presence of greatness people, you get giddy, dammit.

But this got me thinking. I posed the “Texas situation” to my Texan pals on facebook. And we formulated an excellent plan:

I’m going to show up for all future assignments in a cowboy hat and spurs. If anyone asks, John Wayne was my grandpa. I’ll embellish stories about how Wells Fargo still runs stage coaches and the Pony Express still transports our mail. I drink moonshine on a regular basis with Chuck Norris. Yes, THE Chuck Norris. At the Alamo. I was a country music superstar as a child, who showed that poor girl Taylor Swift how to play the guitar. Also, I’m a NASCAR fanatic and I’ve been to so many races I’ve lost count (well, there has to be some truth in this, doesn’t there?).

I figured that would totally satisfy Michigander’s Texas lust for awhile, yes?

I will say this- all jokes aside, Texas may not be the most beautiful place on Earth but it is authentic, genuine, and hospitable. People think Texans are a bunch of gun happy, uneducated fools, but I’ve never met or known nicer folks than true Texans. And quite frankly, the economy there is the best in the country, so we must not be that stupid (minus our football team..down with the Cowgirls..post for another day). It may be 110 during the summer but we don’t ever worry about snow storms and power outages, cause winter is a balmy 50 degrees where I’m from. I’ve never missed being somewhere more in my entire life, and I think that’s because Texas is more than just a place, it’s a state of mind.

But I am happy to report next week I get to return to Texas for a wedding. I think this is the happiest and most excited I’ve been in months! So in the great words of Davy Crockett- “You can all go to hell…I’m going to Texas.”

This is not an appropriate time to say "namaste."

Translation: I have this thing where I hate going to the movies (the seats aren't comfy, screaming kids, small bladder, etc.) so I just now got around to seeing "Get Him to the Greek." Ok, it's not going to be the film of all films, but it is pretty hilarious.

In particular, Sean Combs (P.Diddy) absolutely makes this movie. I was disappointed I could find all of my favorite clips from the movie on Youtube except my absolute favorite scene where Combs/Sergio and Jonah Hill/Aaron are talking about the disastrous song "African Child" that ruined Aldous Snow's (Russell Brand) career. Sergio tells Aaron no matter what you tell Aldous you loved "African Child" regardless of how he really feels about it.

Aaron: "So I just lie to him?"
Sergio: "No. We don't lie to people, we don't do that...we just believe invalid truths."

This is now my motto in life. I'd explain the rest of the scene to you but I am far too white for how many "N" bombs Sergio drops after that quote. Anyhow, here are a few absolutely hilarious clips that had me rolling after a long and rough day, so hopefully they do the same for you.

Think of this as the one nice thing I will probably do for the rest of the calendar year? I know I am phoning this post in, but I had an epic day with an 8th grade class and I am "le tired" (go view "the end of the world flash" if you do not know what that is from IMMEDIATELY...see I just did something else nice for you...I'm such a giving person).

......................................

Because everyone knows the Carlton dance (and damn if I'm not excellent at it)


Furry Walls, starting around the 1:00 mark. I want a padded room with furry walls now.


"This is the longest hallway of all time!" "It's Kubrickian!"


I hate Lars Ulrich, so this is unrelated to P.Diddy's character, but had me rolling.


And with that, I bid you all adieu for the day! I will be back with my own sarcastic wit within the next few days. Like when the feeling returns to my fingers, damn you Michigan winter.