Terri's Cellar Door

Stuff that happens to me, Terri.

Friday, December 28, 2007

Brendan Fraser Splits From Wife

Alot of people are going to be talking about this, and I'm totally a Brendan fan. I really don't have any place to say this, but I did want to put this out here:

Divorce is pretty terrible for everybody involved. I know that you've got a lot of stuff on your plate right now, but I want you to know there are people who are keeping you and your family in our thoughts and prayers. I am so sorry to see your relationship go down the drain, but if you can always keep your children happy, I hope that you can find happiness as well.


Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Photos from the set

Well, if you didn't know, principle photography has wrapped on the Mummy 3, and that just means that they've finished with the bulk of the shooting. I was still hoping that Rachel would get back in on that, but sometimes. Anyway, here are some pictures that I got from over at IGN, if you couldn't tell from the huge IGN watermark on every single one. I was excited to see Jet Li and Michelly Yeoh involved in this project, which, if you've ever read this blog before, in combination with Brendan Fraser would have been much more than enough to let me die happy. I mean, Bren is my fave male actor, Shelly my fave female. So, there's not much more to do beyond that. If only Rache had been in it, as my second fave female actress, and Elijah Wood, it would have been the quin-fecta, and I would certainly have had that geek-gasm that would have lead to my immediate expiration. Anyway, so here are the pics. Bren looks particularly tasty in that wool coat, and Michelle looks as glamorous and regal as ever. They're so awesome.

** The best thing about Bren making a big budget thing like this is all the press he has to do for it. He'll be on every talk show when this is coming out telling funny stories, and talking about his kids. It makes one want to start their own chat show, just so he'll come talk to me. Them. You. Anyway, I will be taping all of his and Shelly's upcoming interviews, so if you want copies, you might want to start begging now.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

My Blog: The Greatest Hits

So, I've been thinking, and I wanted to do kind of a special thing to kick off my fourth official year in the blog business. I mean, I've written a lot of posts about a lot of different topics, and while i've always been satisfied with my work, I haven't always been proud of it. So, I want to present to you all some of what I consider my favorite work, posts and pictures, for your immediate perusal. I'm pretty sick right now, suffering from what I think is the flu, or something, but I didn't want to let this month go by without some new postings. In the coming week I plan to do two book reviews, which should be gravy, as well as another excerpt from something I'm writing, hopefully not so long as the post before this one.

Enjoy such hits as My First Blog
Written on a warm, summer afternoon, I was just getting into the game with my first post. Going back, it's not very interesting, though it is short, so I got that right. As far as introducing me it does some very important things: I'm a geek, I listen to NPR, I love Brendan Fraser. What else do you really need to know about me? Other than the fact that I love the Dixie Chicks? Nothing, that's what, nothing.

Then groove to the soul stylings of What Kind Part 1 and Part 2
This is a real thing, that really happened and it really happened the way that I said. Well, maybe not exactly. I think that nothing happens the way that writers describe it. They add a motion and fluidity and clarity to the actions that weren't there before. They add perspective, and a message. The moment happened without all that, but this essay really helped me get to the bottom of it.

Party Hardy to The List to End All
So, these are the obvious reasons that you should be reading my blog on a regular basis. And they make sense don't they? Yes, they do. Trust me, you don't have to go back and read it.

Rock out to the contemporary melody of Here We Are
I remember writing this after Bush won the presidency the second time. Wow. That seems like a lifetime ago, but what I felt that night still holds true, and hasn't ever been more truly spoken (by me).

Bring it downtown with a mellow Celtic jig in Luck of the Irish
So, this is me describing the best Disney TV movie ever, Luck of the Irish. It just goes to highlight how much of a dork I truly am, better than almost any post on this list.

Bring back old school memories with Hamlet 2: Electric Boogaloo
So, I technically don't think there's a Hamlet 1, but that's never stopped me before. This is where the whole Electric Boogaloo thing started, which was big for me around that time. Add electric boogaloo to practically anything, and I thought it was funny. Actually, I kinda still do.

Rock out with your frock out to She's Got It... Your Pistol 2.... Elec-Ah Forget It
Other than being one of my longest titles. Ever. I got to give you all some information that might help your life, which is something that I don't do often enough. I would change that, but, yeah, I'm lazy.

Smooth out your Levi's and get pumping to My Dixiechickaversary!
So, yeah, you can tell I'm just writing some words for these now, huh? Anyway, this is the very first time that you felt my love for the ladies at full force, and I do totally think they're awesome, so, yeah.

Ask What the F*&% with ?????????
I dunno how many question marks there are, but I did my best. This was a heartfelt post about who knows what. It really didn't come from anywhere, but I do appreciate the comments I got on them. I didn't read them until like a year later cause I was worried what people would say.

What's Love Got to Do with It? This I Believe
Yeah, wow, I am running low on these, in the home stretch now, I think. Anyway, this is taking much longer than I expected. This is a very important thing for me, emphasizing what I believe, which is important to me, so we won't have any misunderstandings.

**There are tons more, but I think this is a long enough post, considering the damage I did on the last one, so I'll leave the rest until a later date, and give you time to cruise all the hits of terri's cellar door. Operators are standing by.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Babo's Tale

I thought this was so good, that I couldn't just keep it to myself. Therefore, I'm posting it for all of you to bask in my awesomeness. I wrote it for an American Lit Class, and it helps if you've read the story Benito Cereno, by Herman Melville. You can do equally well just reading the SparkNotes and finding out what happened. Basically it's about a ship that has a bunch of slaves on it (slavery bad!), and a captain from another ship gets on the slave ship, and things just don't seem right. SPOILER ALERT: The slaves revolted. Anyway, so this was only supposed to be about 1100 words, and I, you know, passed that, but I felt it was important. I hope that my teacher doesn't knock me down a grade or two for that. If I'd had it my way it would have been much longer, but I saw that it was about 2200 words, and I panicked and wrote the ending. Anyway, without further ado, Babo's Tale:

The man in the corner stood by Aranda’s elbow, ready to pour the slovenly merchant another glass of wine. He had to have his timing just right, or else the rocking of the boat would cause the wine to spill out. Aranda, his ‘master’, was not a vindictive man, but the cask that he held was worth a small fortune, and any drops of it that he allowed to leak out would be sorely missed. The man absolutely hated ships. He had hated them since he had seen them from the shores of his own country. His initial curiosity was soon worn out after many days below decks. As he stood in the port of Mendoza, with the shadows of the giants beasts and the man Aranda had the cheek to call himself his master; even then he had held a silent hatred for the vessels, and yet he couldn’t seem to get away from them. But he was not completely focused on the task at hand. His moves darted around the small cabin and he listened closely to the conversation that his ‘master’ and the captain of this vessel, Don Benito, were having. One of the upper strata of society seemed to just forget if a servant was in the room, thus the man watching from the corner had an unbridled view of what Aranda and Captain Benito were planning. The boat gave another lurch, as did the man’s stomach, but he cleared his vision and focused on what Benito was saying.

“If we continue on this track, we should be back in Mendoza by the end of a fortnight.” Said Don Benito, apparently very pleased with himself.

Aranda nodded quickly, “Very good. We shall have these slaves to market, and make a fine profit in no time. I assured you that this would be a most profitable enterprise, and I wasn’t mistaken, was I?”

“No, my old friend, we have suffered no ill tidings on this journey, may it stay that way.”

The man in the corner started, then stifled a laugh. He had no trouble understand their quick Spanish. He had long since mastered the language, though Aranda was sure that he only held the capacity to understand simple phrases like ‘more wine’. Before he had been taken away from his homeland, he had mastered several languages before being captured, and was well known in his village for being able to communicate with outsiders. These poor fools had no inkling of what was to come. He wasn’t completely without conscious, however. These men, though they had kidnapped him from his home, had never been outright evil to him, that wouldn’t stop him from doing what he needed to do, no matter what the cost. The plans that had been made flowed through his mind, and he wondered if they would be successful. There was no time to think on that. On the deck above him, things were already being set in motion, and he couldn’t stop them if he wanted to. Even though he did not. Aranda called to him from the table,

“More wine, please Babo.” He held up his cup, to indicate, as though his servant was deaf or dumb. The man hurried over to the table and refilled the wine glass, careful not to spill a single drop. Don Benito bid Aranda goodnight, and shut the door behind him.

“I think that it is time that I take my rest as well, good Babo.” He said, pointing to the bed, again for his simple minded servant’s sake, “Help me, boy.” Aranda made a move to get up, and the man moved to aide him from his chair. They moved together to the bunk where Aranda collapsed onto the cot, having imbibed far too much of the potent alcohol. The servant didn’t bother to undress him, or even make him more comfortable in his position, but simple turned and walked out of the room, locking the door from the outside. He waited several seconds and turned his head towards the ceiling. He could already hear the shouts coming from the deck.

‘So, it has started.’ He thought, turning to walk up the stairs.

As he reached the ladder, he saw a sailor hurrying towards him, while simultaneously trying to load his pistol. The man sprinted past the hatchway, and grabbing a plank of wood, hit the sailor squarely between his eyes. The look of terror on his face lasted only for a moment, and then his eyes rolled backward, and he crumpled to the deck. Looking around, the former obedient servant saw that the revolt had been quick, and quite successful. There were many bodies littering the decks, but only a few were of a darker hue. The man saw his most trusted mutineer, Atufal giving orders on the decks. He walked over to hear the report.

“There should be no trouble. We lost very few of ours, though we had to kill more of them than we thought we’d have to. I am not sure if we can pilot the ship with this few.”

Atufal looked worried, and someone had to take charge if they were to allay his fears.

“There is no need to worry.” Said the man. “I can teach those how to do some of the most basic jobs of the ship, and you and I can pilot it as well, with the sailors we have left.”

Atufal still had a look of uncertainty on his face, so the man continued, “Gather all of our people together, and lock Don Benito in his cabin, after I have finished here, I will wish to speak with him.”

Atufal nodded and began ordering the remaining sailors tied up. The man walked out to the bow of the ship, feeling as free as he had in a long time. No matter what happened, he would never forget this moment, standing on the ship, that mode of transport that he hated so much, feeling as wonderful as he had in a long time. Atufal tapped his shoulder, and he turned to see his formerly enslaved compatriots crowding the deck. There were men and woman, young and old, and on all there faces was a mixture of pure joy and fear, feelings that their leader could easily relate to. He began by raising his arms for silence. They could not all understand the words he was saying, so he looked to several who would serve as interpreters, and would pause often to go over the words he was saying in another dialect that he was familiar with.

“We have only gone forward with the first step towards our freedom. I know that some of you have never taken a life before. It does not sit too well with me, either, however, I would urge you to look at my life of servitude, if you have any doubts. These people,” he said, pointing to the sailors, quivering on the decks, “do not think of us as human, they will buy and sell us as Aranda had planned, and we would never have seen our families and our countries again. Is that something that you want?”

The entire group shook their heads.

“Good.” He was about to continue, but he saw one of the younger men walking with Don Benito towards him.

Benito was frazzled, and wearing his night coat, was most likely interrupted in the middle of his nightly toilet. This is just as it had been planned, and the man was delighted that his planning had been timed so well. The leader stepped off the bow, and walked towards the former Captain Benito. He bowed slightly and addressed the man,

“Don Benito, how good of your to join us. I am sure you have a list of demands, as do I. Well, we shall hear yours first.”

Benito, who at first had been wondering how he would communicate with the slave, was taken aback. His Spanish was on par with that of a native. Benito had been under the impression that the man knew only a few words in this language, and thought of the many times that he had spoken freely in front of him, not bothering to mask his words. Don Benito had never more confused in his life, but he had to think of his crew first. He wrenched his shackled arm away from his captor, and began to speak,

“I don’t know what Aranda thinks he will gain by taking my ship. But whatever his mind is set on, he is wrong. I will offer him…”

Benito was interrupted by laughter. The leader of the mutiny was almost doubled over in his mirth. He quickly straightened, and with a smirk on his lips, he advanced towards Captain Benito. Reaching out, he grabbed the collar of the stoic man’s nightshirt.

“You think that Aranda is behind this?! You simple, simple man.”

Benito opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted again.

“Aranda couldn’t have planned something like this. If out plan for revenge was to get fat and drunk, well, then there would have been no better man.”

The confused look had yet to leave Benito’s face, so his captor leaned forward until he was almost nose to nose with his prisoner,

“Myself, and my partner, Atufal planned this, from start to finish, and when we are done here, you can do as you please. We have no plan to harm anymore of your sailors, but plans can change, as you are well aware, Don Benito.”

As realization dawned on Benito's face, the man leaned back to watch his handiwork. He spoke the truth, he had no intention of harming any more of the sailors, however, to reach their homeland again, they would be willing to do whatever was necessary. They were not monsters, but they would not be swayed from their goal. Captain Benito stammered, but managed to get his thoughts in order,

“If this is the case, then let my men go. There is no need for you to keep them. You must stop your killing!”

The man he addressed sighed, and with a flick of his wrist, Atufal grabbed one of the sailors who was tied up on the deck, and tossed him overboard. The rest of the bound soldiers gasped, and Benito began to swear.

“I make no guarantees with kidnappers, and thieves!”, said his captor, “But what I want is simple, and as I said, once it is fulfilled, you may do as you want. My question to you is: Are there any Negro countries in this sea, where we might be taken?”

Benito racked his brain, but had to answer in the negative.

“Fine. Then you will take us to Senegal straight away. Do this and you will be set free.”

Don Benito began his stammering again, “ B-b-but this is impossible. That is a great distance, it will be immensely difficult to round Cape Horn, the vessel is in a terrible condition and we are in want of provisions, sails, and water!”

The man advanced again on the Captain.

“These are all reason why not, but the reason why is much more insistent, and that reason is freedom. Captain Benito. Our freedom and yours. If we do not reach Senegal, neither of us will see our freedom.”

Benito swallowed as he tried not to think of the implications. The man he knew as Babo ordered him to his cabin.

Near the side of the ship, Atufal looked overboard. The sailor that he had so carelessly tossed over the railing was hanging near the side of the ship, his feet just dangling in the water. He was wet, and afraid, but unhurt. Atufal reached down and hand over hand, began to bring him back onboard.

The man remembered watching Don Benito jumping overboard, and into the boat of Captain Delano, and the sinking feeling in his stomach. In that very real, very stark moment, he saw his plans, all his hopes and dreams, fall, fall, fall, and sink into the very darkest part of the ocean. He had done so much to accomplish his goal, things that he would never have thought himself capable of. Checking up on Aranda after the revolt, he found that the man had either succumbed to the wine that he had tainted, or his own fear during the night. Seeking to use this to his advantage, he had defiled the man’s corpse, and then hung it up on the front of the ship as a warning. He had hoped that no more deaths might be the result. However, the arrival of Captain Delano had presented another whole set of problems. He thought it only necessary to keep Delano busy for a couple of hours at most, so that they might receive some supplies, however Benito had somehow managed to keep him around much longer, and now their freedom would be snatched away. The dim-witted Spanish captain had not seen through the ruse that had been so carefully placed over his eyes, no matter how many odd things he witnessed, or how much Benito had tried giving it away. It had taken all of his power to keep the secret safe, and as Delano’s boat had been lowered into the water, the mutineer felt that he was safe, and that their plan would truly work. He had let the hope snake it’s way into his heart, and now it sunk it’s fangs in.

He had to do something, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dagger, and grabbing a rope, followed Benito down to the small boat. There was nothing to be done now, he had to give everything he had. At least if he was killed, struggling against Benito, Atufal and the rest could get away, and perhaps make it back to their lives. He had only wanted to see his homeland once more, and yet even that dream had fallen out from under him. He wasn’t able to kill Benito, and in the battle that ensued his good friend, and brother Atufal was killed. It was at that moment that the former slave, servant, and mutineer decided to speak not a word. If he could not be free then his thoughts and words would be given no freedom either. And after a wordless trial, it was time for him to meet his end. With as much dignity as he could muster, the man, the former slave, known as Babo was lead to the gallows, and with him, died his hopes of freedom, and the return to his distant shore.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

The Best Toilet Quote Ever

So, I made this comment to my friend Tiggs, and I thought that I would let you in on the joke. It involves this picture:
"They require the balance of an acrobat, the stamina of a marathon runner, and the aim of a sharpshooter. I enjoyed none of those talents, and required many hours of cleaning up." -- Me

*That's going in Bartlett's one day, better believe.

Saturday, December 08, 2007

Werewolf Mar Mitzvah, This time it's not Hanukkah!

I was looking everywhere for the lyrics to Werewolf Bar Mitzvah (see my post about the dynamite show 30 Rock here), but I couldn't find them. So, I decided to take it upon myself to type them all out. I typed the producer's parts in red, cause sometimes he talks over Tracey, but it's still funny, so I thought you should hear what he's saying. You can download the song here, and sing along!
**Thanks to Matt, who corrected some of my spelling. If anybody sees anything else, just tell me!

Guy (I think he's the Producer): Aw man, Tre, look up at the sky. It's a full moon... on the Sabbath.

Tracey: This is (pause) scary!

Producer: Break it down.

Tracey: I was working late on my Haftorah,
When I heard a knock on my bedroom door-a.
I opened it up and to my surprise, (surprise)
There was a werewolf standing there with glowing gold eyes. (glowing gold eyes)
He said tomorrow ,my son, you will be a man (man)
But tonight's the time to join the wolfen clan. (clan)
Tomorrow you will stand at the bimah and pray,
But tonight let's gaze at the moon and bay.

Werewolf Bar Mitzvah, spooky, scary
Boys becoming men, men becoming wolves.
Werewolf Bar Mitzvah, spooky, scary
Boys becoming men, men becoming wolves.

Producer: All right, that was, that was great Tre, okay. It's over. That's a wrap, oh.

Tracey: The next day what happened?
The tomah didn't teach, (Oh, there's more)
I got up in front of everyone to give my little speech.
Then my teeth turned into fangs,
And my nails into claws
And I nearly dropped the Torah when my hands turned into paws!
I growled and I roared and my Rabbi did as well.
It was a rocking werewolf zoo at Temple Beth-Emmanuel!

Producer: Hey man, were'd you learn all these Jewish words?

Tracey: My manager, Harvey Lemmings!
Werewolf Bar Mitzvah, spooky, scary
Boys becoming men, men becoming wolves.

Producer: I don't, I-I just don't think this, the idea of the song can sustain itself for that long. It doesn't, it seems a little sweaty now, so...

Tracey: This whole premise is sweaty.

We had a reception at the Larchmont Country Club.
They served a real nice brisket and an eight foot party sub.
I danced with my cousins, I got money from my folk,
We had a lot of fun making circumcision jokes. (Uh uh)
Then I remembered the premise of my song,
I was at a nice reception, but the werewolf part was gone.
So, we pulled ourselves together and we're wolfmen again
Just in time for Monster Fight to begin! (No!)
All the country club employees were a brain sucking pack
Who had all turned into zombies and were on the attack. (No!)
So we fought them and some Dracula's and Frankensteins too,

Cause you've gotta love Bar Mitzvahs even if you're not a (howl)

Producer: (over singing)
There's no such thing as Frankensteins. Steins. There's no plural Frankenstein.
Tracey: Werewolf Bar Mitzvah, spooky scary
Boys becoming men, men becoming wolves.
Werewolf Bar Mitzvah, kooky, hairy
Boys becoming men, men becoming wolves.

(background singers keep singing chorus)

I don't want this, I don't like this, this is scary!
Turning into werewolves and stuff.
You know?

Producer: I don't know Tre, I'm not feeling it. This ain't no dick in a box.
(Tracey howls)

Friday, December 07, 2007

The Square Root of All Evil



Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Happy Day of the Ninja!!!

I bet you didn't even know that it was the day of the ninja, did you? Because like the awesome ninja, it sneaks up unannounced, and you only know it's there when you look down and notice your throat is cut. And that is the beauty of this holiday, my friends. However, let us not forget the beauty and awe-inspiring wonder that is the ninja, and how could you with this wonderful picture:

Think Ninja, indeed.
Go here to find out more.

**Also, my MP3 might not be quite right yet. I'm still taking donations for a new one. (hint, hint)

Wearing a turtleneck is like being strangled by a really weak guy, all day.

That's a Mitch Hedberg quote. I agree with that sentiment so, very, very much. I absolutely hate people touching my neck. It's this thing I have. I also get frightened by very innocuous things like people walking behind me, or coming into a room. Random, I know, but not the point of this post. Don't you love how I do that? Well, it's the first day of December (it's not when I'm writing this first part here, but it makes an interesting segway, doesn't it?), and there's so many things to do, such as getting a job, earning some money, and subsequently quitting that job when school starts again. I'm very sick of school, actually, I've literally been in college since about 2003, which means I'm going on year 12 or something. Anyway, this is something that I thought I'd post:

That's a great idea, and I'm totally in support of it. I like seeing to puppets getting it on just like anybody else. I was watching the news last night, and there was this story on CNN of all places, that asked if YouTube was getting too stupid. Do they watch YouTube? It's always been stupid. The whole Internet was founded on the idea that you should be able to post some documentation of your drunk frat party/horrible ski accident/porn somewhere where you could at the same time share it with your friends and hide it from your mom. Anyway, you made me think of it, because two puppets getting it on might become a viral hit, and thus be shown on CNN. Which has long since stopped covering real news, and now spends most of it's broadcast day alternating between Anna Nicole's supposed 'new will', and why Britney Spears can't get her life together. Hm, um, sorry, bit of a rant there. I don't like Fergie either, unless she's with the Black Eyed Peas, and they don't let her stay on the track long enough to get annoying. So, that's just another thing altogether. Anyway, I was thinking about religion lately, and how hard it would be to be with somebody who was a very stringent (or even not so stringent) follower of another belief. There is a Bible quote that tells us not to be unequally yoked. Which may or may not have something to do with oxen, I dunno, I wasn't really paying attention. That got me to thinking about this article that I read, which is really funny. Here it is here. You don't have to be a Jew or Gentile to read it, but it helps. So, nonetheless, I've just decided I'm going to post this entire email on my blog, omitting the names of the Internet because I am so on right now.

Put the Lime in the Coconut,


** By the way, my MP3 is back working again. Classic.
**oops! You thought you'd get an explanation here, didn't you. Oh so naive!

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Blue Eyed Soul

Okay, I know that I've mentioned this before, but I heard this Natasha Bedingfield song, and when I heard it on the radio, I thought that it was a black person, so I thought that I would explore the concept a little bit more. After doing a little research, I found out that the white-singers-with-black-voices thing is neither new, nor that rare. And I just want my readers to know that I'm not disparaging these kind of acts, it just catches you a little off guard when you hear a voice, and then, subsequently, expect the person belonging to the voice to be black. Anyway, the Natasha Bedingfield song (feat. Sean Kingston) is cute, and I'd probably buy that album, but she certainly does catch you a little off guard with that voice. So, anyway, I looked it up on Wikipedia (my initial go-to guide for just about anything I know nothing and want to know something about) and they have a very extensive article, that I would suggest you at least give a cursory look, because, you know, it's pretty good.

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