Let’s talk about marriage. Marriage is an idea that people are quickly becoming disenchanted with. As more and more people believe that it is okay to get divorced, they stop wanting to be married. It loses meaning if you can get out of it. But people still want sex, and so not only do they not get married, but they become increasingly promiscuous. Or worse, they develop ideas like polyamory, so that they can share their love (sex organs) with others and still be married. Within 100 years, we will be a nation of sluts. I am not pleased with this idea.  As always, I have the solution.

New Marriage Divorce Form

In order to stop the world from descending into the Second Circle of Hell, we need a response. That response is New Marriage. New Marriage is kind of like old marriage, and by old marriage I mean Biblical marriage. And by that I mean if you commit adultery or divorce, you get shot. In the head. With bullets. And not love bullets. Bullets that cause death. Or set on fire. Or electrocuted. Or ya know. Something to that effect.

By invoking New Marriage, we can restore the sanctity of marriage. People will once again have to think about what they are doing before they make a lifelong commitment, and with technology (camera phones, video tape, etc) it will be very easy to prove when someone is cheating on someone else. And no, polyamory is not okay in New Marriage. It’s a one to one relationship. If you don’t like that, don’t get New Married.

Ceremonies aren't necessary, but I like rings.

New Marriage will solve many problems. For one, girls (or guys) who marry for money will have to be committed to that relationship for the rest of their lives. There is no remarrying after death in New Marriage. There is no having sex with other people after your partner dies in New Marriage. You are committed for your life time. Secondly, we’re going to open New Marriage up to all people. That includes same-sex New Marriage. There’s no reason anyone shouldn’t be able to put their life on the line to show that they care about someone, regardless of sexual orientation. Finally, New Marriage will restore meaning to an dying institution. We very much need marriage to be sacred. It’s the culmination of the highest of our emotions.  It is the most of ourselves that we can share with another, and in its current state you may as well just give someone a rose. It’ll wither almost as quickly.

And for old marriage? It hardly matters what you do with it. Keep for people who are borderline committed, but think they might divorce someday. New Marriage will be for those who are willing to risk everything to show their love. I think that’s how it should be.

I’m spending the summer in Nepal — doing stuff that’s none of your business. I may die. I may live. It really depends on how good I am at sweet talking those pesky Maoists.  Seeing as I have never even been able to get out of speeding ticket, chances may be slim.

Currently, enjoying hour 8 of my 10 hour layover in Hong Kong, and I just had to share with you some of the amazing things I’ve been experiencing thus far.

1. It’s 1000 degrees here. I am literally in a melting pot. And I am dead.  After being in the airport and in vehicles for close to fifteen hours, I longed to inhale real life air. Little did I know, that real life air here tastes like steaming hot B.O.

2. I visited a mall called Harbour City. It’s HK’s biggest mall boasting over 2 million sq feet of retail space. 2 million. This is great for someone who really dislikes shopping. I think it’s the city’s favorite hobby.  Needless to say, I was lost for about two hours…  I did find a bunch of Indian guys milling around the malls trying to hawk stuff. I dunno what… but they were targeting young girls that looked like me.  Anyone know what this is? Perhpas HK’s version of selling star maps on Sunset?

3. There is a toilet restaurant called Modern Toilet where you sit on toilets and food is also served in toilet dishes. Oh yea, and if you get the ice cream, it looks like poo. As God is my witness, I am going to visit this place before I’m back in September.

4. Also, am planning to visit the first modelled to scale Noah’s Ark located in Ocean Park. Though, how does anyone know how big it was supposed to be?  People, Noah fit 2 of each animal on earth on that thing. I’m just sayin…

5. HK is very foreigner friendly. Everyone speaks english (it’s actually one of the official languages), and no one gropes you physically. Only with their eyes. It’s kinda nice.

Thus far, I have discovered that there are many occasions in which I threaten impending death. “If that happens, I will die” has become one of my favorite overused statements. Here is a short list of some of the situations where I should have died, (but miraculously didn’t):

1. If I sit in traffic for more than 5 minutes
2. If I get a parking ticket
3. If he doesn’t call
4. If I’m late
5. If I walk one more step
6. If there is no more mustard
7. If I don’t get into Columbia
8. If I don’t book that commercial
9. If they forgot the hot sauce
10. If you make me drink that Orange Vitamin Water
11. If it rains
12. If it’s cloudy
13. If I don’t go to the bathroom right now
14. If I don’t get an A
15. If I get a C
16. If I can’t pay my credit card bill
17. If he farts
18. If my boobs don’t grow
19. If you eat the last chicken McNugget
20. If I fail my drivers test twice

I probably utter this phrase, once an hour, which means that I technically should have died about a million by now. Clearly, somebody up there likes me.

Coming soon:  “I will kill you if you…” reasons

There has been a lot of buzz surrounding Taylor Kitsch, who plays resident bad boy Tim Riggins on the hit NBC show Friday Night Lights, since portraying loner card shark with kinetic energy and wicked skills with a Bo staff, Remy LeBeau (a.k.a. Gambit), in one of May’s huge blockbuster releases X-Men Origins: Wolverine. However, a lot of this buzz has been concentrated on his humble beginnings instead of looking at his dedication, determination, and commitment to his craft.

Taylor will be the first one to tell you that his life didn’t exactly go according to plan. He was going to be a professional hockey player not an actor, and definitely not a model; but after a career ending injury, Taylor had to find a new plan… and what a plan.

After minor roles in Snakes on a Plane and John Tucker Must Die, Taylor was given one of the leading roles in the supernatural teen thriller, The Covenant. Taylor’s portrayal of the second oldest of The Sons of Ipswich, hot headed Pogue Perry, really gave him the vehicle to show that, even though he has a hot body and a pretty face, he can also act. He then carried this momentum to the set of Friday Night Lights and for the last three years, Taylor has shown that there are many complex layers to the character of Tim Riggins.

Even though Taylor has enjoyed success on Friday Night Lights, he still felt the desire to flex his acting muscles, instead of his bulging biceps, and took on the role of real-life photojournalist Kevin Carter in The Bang Bang Club, a biopic film due out next year, chronicling the lives of three photojournalists who were in South Africa during the Apartheid. Taylor dove into this role head first and gave it everything he had – literally. The 5′10 actor lost 30 pounds in order to bring a greater sense of verisimilitude to the film. Many were shocked to see Taylor’s gaunt transformation, as he is usually extremely built for his role as Tim Riggins, but he dug deep, channeled the tortured soul of Kevin Carter and delivered a performance that, I’m sure, will go down in cinematic history. Taylor, and the rest of the cast, was at The Cannes Film Festival earlier this month pre-promoting this film.

The one thing that impresses me the most about Taylor Kitsch is that he wants to be recognized as a serious actor instead of relying on his God-given good looks like so many young actors tend to do these days. Both the big and little screens are filled with beautiful people who really don’t have much acting talent and rely on their looks to get them roles. Taylor’s drive and passion doesn’t allow him to just sit back on his laurels’ and say “Here I am. Photograph me.” He studies and commits himself wholeheartedly to the roles he chooses. There is no half-way for Taylor Kitsch. He’s proven that “Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can’t Lose” goes beyond his role on Friday Night Lights.  It’s all or nothing. Go hard or go home. And I, for one, am glad he didn’t.

Last night, I went to watch the second weirdest film I’ve seen at the Hammer Museum. However, it was proceeded by the weirdest assault I’ve had in a while.  Now, I get sexually assaulted more than the average girl.

And no, it’s not because I’m super pretty or super slutty. In fact, I’m neither. I simply have an aura that attracts crazy people. And it’s fine. I’ve learned to deal with it. I’m making up for something terrible I did in a past life. It’s cool.

However, last night’s assault was not the typical tame, yet minor inconvenience that I typically experience. It was terrifying.

Standing at the corner of Wilshire and Westwood, patiently waiting to cross the street, I was greeted by a Mexican man that suspiciously resembled a Home Depot worker. He was wearing a cap and got up from the ledge he was sitting on in order to ask me “Como Estas?”

Lucky for him, that is about 50% of what I recall from Mr. Harris’s spanish class in 7th grade, and I gingerly replied, “Bien Gracias. Y Tu?”  Truth is, I wasn’t all that “Bien,” but that was the only way I had been taught to answer the question.  Little did I realize that “Bien Gracias” would be the advent of my downfall.

He seemed impressed with my bilingual skills, and whispered “Bien” right before he grabbed my hand and kissed it.  Normally, this would have all been fine and dandy, (maybe even a bit flattering), but he didn’t let go of my hand. That was the problem. He held it for a good 30 seconds, before I had to pull it away from him, and even then, he tried to hold on.

I moved 3 feet back, and prayed that more people would show up at this sidewalk. A nuclear bomb being dropped on me– that would have been preferable.

He continued to stare at me, and I looked at him nervously. He smiled and misunderstood my complete terror and repulsion for flirting, by signaling  that he wants to kiss me on the lips. As if, it’s traditional rapist custom to make these inappropriate advances. I quickly shook my head NO, and gave him my terrified glare.

Again, miscommunication, because he took this to mean more flirting. He asked me, “Comma te llama?”  And because that was the other 50% of Harris’s teachings,  I was too excited to realize that I was once again trapped in the Mexican fly paper.

I replied, “Jen”, for once, thankful that I had the 8th most common name in the country. He replied, “My name is Ricardo.” I took a visual snapshot, in case I’d have to remember him for a lineup one day.

He crossed the 3 foot gap between us, and proceeded to grab my hand again. He kissed it again. I quickly let go, as he began to gargle and spit out weird sexual noises. Yes, it was really creepy. Like it felt like he was eating or dying or being born. Maybe it was a combination of the three, but Lord knows, that I stopped looking.

By this time, a bicyclist and two other pedestrians were standing by me. They all looked a bit mental themselves, so I realized that I was all alone. The damn light! It had been 10 minutes, it seemed, but the red hand flashed persistently in my direction.

“Jenny, you need to pay for your sins,” it seemed to be taunting me.  But, I do not tolerate abuse. No more. I made a vow never to be one of those submissive Asian ladies that eat up psychological, racial, and sexual abuse for breakfast. I do not tolerate any of this bullshit, especially from an illegal immigrant day laborer.

So, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and started running– running toward whatever direction the wind guided me. Straight. Yes. I was crossing the street, and miraculously, there were no cars. I felt the chilly air on my shoulders, and the fading out of Ricardo’s birthing/sex noises. I was free– free from—

BAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMM!

My hip gave out, and suddenly I was flying. I saw Ricardo’s eyes bulge in morbid delight as I was somersaulting through the air.  Hit by a car. A panicked Mexican driver quickly ran out of the drivers side, to see if I was okay. I was not.

Nameless Mexican asked me, “Como Estas?”

But what else could I say, but the only answer that I had been trained with, “Bien Gracias, y tu?”

You might be American if…

10.  When visiting a foreign household without a television, you can’t help but ask “Where is your reality box?”

9. You don’t think eating lunch after brunch is weird.

8. You start panicking when you see a roundabout.

7. You need to make a call to your therapist when you actually have to get out of your car to eat.

6. Your oven broke and you replaced it with a second microwave.

5. The last piece of fruit you touched was a month ago. And it was plastic.

4. When visiting an coffee bar in Rome, you’re confused when the barista doesn’t know how to make a frappucino.

3. You take up All-You-Can-Eat buffets on their word.

2. You talk about Ross and Rachel as if they are real people.

1. You bought a truck to drive up and down mountains like in the commercials…even though you live in the suburbs.

Ever since I’ve been going to the gym– I go for the infomercials and CNN– I swear, I have begun noticing how more and more ridiculous the product and advertising market has become.

The latest product to baffle me is this:

For $24, A Touch of Gray boasts that it “lets you keep some gray,” because I’m sure that that’s exactly what you want… a little bit of gray hair. That way, when you meet a woman at your urologist’s office, she’ll think you’re 42.5, not, 43.  This is retarded.

Two things come to mind. 

1. If you’re already graying, then you probably don’t need to buy a product that makes you gray.  Isn’t it a bit redundant?

2. Why would you want to share with the world that you’re graying?  Be a woman and dye that sh*t back to it’s normal color, and say you’re ten years younger. Who cares? This is LA.  My mother is younger than me. 

Both the website and the commercial remind me of those advertisements, where scantily clad models flock to unattractive men with beer guts and an ice old brewski in hand.  These commercials were so tantalizing and misleading that it led to one of the stupidest lawsuits ever, where:

“In 1991, Richard Overton sued Anheuser-Busch for false and misleading advertising under Michigan State law. The complaint specifically referenced ads involving, among other things, fantasies of beautiful women in tropical settings that came to life for two men driving a Bud Light truck. In addition to two claims of false advertising, Mr. Overton included a third claim in his complaint in which he claimed to have suffered emotional distress, mental injury, and financial loss in excess of $10,0000 due to the misleading Bud Light ads. “

You’ll also notice that some young blond chick who’s probably more likely to be the dude’s daughter is seductively eyeing the “Touch of Gray” hero. I like to get me a gray haired man at least 3x a week.  Why go for Zac Efron, when I can lust after his grandpa?

It’s also gray-t  that you can choose between so many shades of gray or “old” as I like to call it!

Ethnic gray, salt and pepper gray, more than ‘a touch of gray‘ gray, cement gray, and gay gray.  Can you match up the names?

Men, save your $ on something worthwhile that will incite actual change in the world– like presents… for me. 

Burbank Airport.  Excellent for leaving quickly but not the most organized after landing.

Maybe 10 terminals, but more likely, 7.  I go to retrieve my luggage post Vegas and encounter more sheep like pleeb morons (yes; this is their specific genus classification).  We are all accustomed to waiting like assholes around the great moving metal beast that spits out our luggage after dropping and chewing it many times (make-up and hair product be damned!)  Now I understand that we all need our luggage and that there aren’t enough claims for us to surround them politely and each receive our bag without any fuss but SERIOUSLY FOLKS!  You expect courtesy?

When retrieving one’s bags it’s one of the last true “every man for himself” moments in contemporary society.  If you stand with your knees firmly locked and pressed against the beast waiting for your own luggage and expect not to receive a bruise here or there…then Darwin should have disposed of you years ago.

Did the Germans apologize on the beaches of Normandy?  No.  Did Ghengis Khan?  Will I?  NEVER!!!  Get out of my way!  If you stand in the line of fire, that’s your own fault, but I need my bags and you are blocking them like every great mouth-breather before you.  Move, or feel the wrath of my luggage.  “excuse me?”…who do you think you’re kidding?

Excuuuuuse yourself from the Gene-pool please!

Well, sometimes you just have to sit back and realize how blessed we are to have this beautiful thing we call the internet. Without it, the following story would probably not be seen or heard by anyone other than the parties involved, and most likely would have never occurred (since it revolves around an email string). As reported by nineMSN, the Australian version of MSN, a resident of Adelaide (capital of the Australian state of South Australia) tried to pay his utility bill with a spider drawing. Before I show you the absolute gems that these emails are, I would like to say that if you ever owe Behind the Hype any kind of payment (kind of difficult since we are a free site, but you are welcome to try), we will gladly accept a spider drawing to settle debts. Cow drawings are also acceptable, but may additionally require going down on Fierce Pussy, but that is something you would have to speak with her about.

nineMSN included each email sent between David Thorne (the Adelaide resident), and Jane Gilles (utility company employee). Really, there is nothing I can do to make this funnier, because it is simply pure comic gold. Enjoy!

From: Jane Gilles
Date: Wednesday 8 Oct 2008 12.19pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Overdue account

Dear David,
Our records indicate that your account is overdue by the amount of $233.95. If you have already made this payment please contact us within the next 7 days to confirm payment has been applied to your account and is no longer outstanding.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

Sounds pretty standard. He owes them money, and they are simply asking for it…pretty basic so far.

From: David Thorne
Date: Wednesday 8 Oct 2008 12.37pm
To: Jane Gilles
Subject: Re: Overdue account

Dear Jane,
I do not have any money so am sending you this drawing I did of a spider instead. I value the drawing at $233.95 so trust that this settles the matter.

Regards, David.

What? A drawing? A spider drawing? What? It may have taken him about 45 seconds to draw that.

Dear David,
Thank you for contacting us. Unfortunately we are unable to accept drawings as payment and your account remains in arrears of $233.95. Please contact us within the next 7 days to confirm payment has been applied to your account and is no longer outstanding.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

I wonder if she had to speak with a supervisor to verify that they are unable to accept drawings as payments. It is also worthy to note her use of “arrears” after reading such a monumentally ridiculous email.

Maybe we should change our name to “Arrears the Hype” – what do you think?

Dear Jane,
Can I have my drawing of a spider back then please.

Regards, David.

What the fuck…unreal.

Dear David,
You emailed the drawing to me. Do you want me to email it back to you?

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

She must have been confused, but how could you be confused at this point? I would just be happy to be along for the ride.

Dear Jane,

Yes please.

Regards, David.

Why though? Why?…Well, just stay tuned. It gets better, believe me.

Attached

Dear Jane, Are you sure this drawing of a spider is the one I sent you? This spider only has seven legs and I do not feel I would have made such an elementary mistake when I drew it.

Regards, David.

“Elementary mistake” was just perfect.

Dear David, Yes it is the same drawing. I copied and pasted it from the email you sent me on the 8th. David your account is still overdue by the amount of $233.95. Please make this payment as soon as possible.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

Having to deal with pretty outlandish requests on a daily basis, I am still extremely impressed with her professionalism at this point. I certainly would have snapped.

Thank you for contacting me. I am currently away on leave, traveling through time and will be returning last week.

Regards, David.

Returning last week, he says. This man is either insane or genius – I am going with genius, just because if he’s insane, then I am not too far off myself.

David responds, after he returns last week:

Hello, I am back and have read through your emails and accept that despite missing a leg, that drawing of a spider may indeed be the one I sent you. I realize with hindsight that it is possible you rejected the drawing of a spider due to this obvious limb omission but did not point it out in an effort to avoid hurting my feelings. As such, I am sending you a revised drawing with the correct number of legs as full payment for any amount outstanding. I trust this will bring the matter to a conclusion.

Regards, David.

“…in an effort to avoid hurting my feelings..” – right, because a utility company is all about sparing feelings. That is just magical to read. He trusts this will bring the matter to a conclusion. I am just speechless at this point.

Dear David, As I have stated, we do not accept drawings in lei of money for accounts outstanding. We accept cheque, bank cheque, money order or cash. Please make a payment this week to avoid incurring any additional fees.

Yours sincerely, Jane Gilles

Still professional, Jane? Come on…he sends you another drawing and you think you are going to get payment out of him? My oh my.

I understand and will definitely make a payment this week if I remember. As you have not accepted my second drawing as payment, please return the drawing to me as soon as possible. It was silly of me to assume I could provide you with something of completely no value whatsoever, waste your time and then attach such a large amount to it.

Regards, David.

She actually does “return” the drawing…once again…speechless.

Attached

Once again, thank you internet for allowing me such joy. Without you, where would I be? Certainly not reading an email chain about a dude trying to pay for a utility bill with a spider drawing that he free-handed in less time than it took to write the emails themselves. Without the internet, I’d probably naked in a cold ravine, sucking the fungus from between my toes, dreaming of a day where I could be a part of a hilarious series of tubes, that interconnect with gypsy magic. Internet, let’s hug.

As for you, Mr. David Thorne of Adelaide – if you are reading this, I ask…nay!…beg that you come write for Behind the Hype. You, my friend, are exactly what this site and my beautiful internet need. I e-bow to you, David.

Note* The original, non-”edited with an axe” version of the email correspondence below can be found at David Thorne’s site here.