It Ain't Me, Babe...

Any openly honest self-respecting narcissist will admit to Googling their own name from time to time. Call it curiosity or whatever you'd like but I'm the kind of guy who likes to know what his doppelgangers are doing in other parts of the world and just how far off the radar he himself actually is.

Yesterday I punched in the username I use for most sites I subscribe to and the first thing that comes up is "Mike G. (mjgildea) on Twitter." This is not me! I freaked. I freaked the fuck out! The odds of this happening were apparently good enough, but this is not me!

I looked at this imposter's page and asked myself what is this shit? Seriously...

"Is it just me or does anyone else think the PS3 Slim looks way better than the PS3?"

"Farrah got Rittered!"

THIS IS NOT ME! I would never sign up for a twitter account and furthermore, I would never live in let alone go to Alaska. What's the point of Twitter? Facebook I can kind of see, but not Twitter! If you're a celebrity trying to avoid misinformed gossip/rumors or a musician who wants to put out some tour dates, fine. But for the other 98% of us typical random assholes its just another way to feed our collective overentitled sense of self. The thought, the concept, the idea of Twitter nauseates me. And people like Sarah Palin and any show on Fox News enouraging you to follow their... tweets (... violent retching...)

I'm completely aware that no one is particularly interested in what I'm doing at any given point of the day and if there's anyone who is I feel absolutely terrible for them. I mean, its bad enough for me because I have to be reminded of what I'm doing at any point in the day. Why would you want to?

Nice Ladies--Chapter Three: Tina Fey

Chapter Three: Tina Fey

I Want To Go To There...!

If my crush of the 90s was Winona Ryder (an upcoming chapter, I swear), my crush of this decade is Tina Fey. I'm generally a sucker (depending on the frames, of course) for girls in glasses and I'm even more of a sucker for funny women. Throw in a nice pair of legs and I'm done for. Fey has all three.

I was first enchanted by Fey during her Weekend Update run on Saturday Night Live during which time she was also (the first female) head writer. Her chemistry with Jimmy Fallon not withstanding, it was her scathing and painfully hysterical rants on whatever then-current event nonsense were sexier to me than a naked Faye Dunaway circa 1967 with a large deep dish pizza, a billion dollar tax-free cashier's check with my name on it and a look in her eyes that says it won't ever quit. Okay, I'm exaggerating but I'm sure you get the gist.

Then came the grossly underrated Mean Girls, which Fey not only co-starred in, but wrote. But it was a couple years later when Fey truly shined on 30 Rock, a show she created from her experiences on SNL. She plays Liz Lemon, an uneasy head writer of a late night comedy sketch show who spends her days putting out fires from her corporate boss/mentor and the show's crazy/neurotic stars. This explanation does the show no justice whatsoever but the 23 Emmy nominations the show just got do. That and despite a wobbly start the show consistently makes me laugh my ass off.

Then there's an SNL clip I saw where Fey showcased her classic wit but also openly admits to being a bitch. And this is fair enough seeing as how you're not going to get where she's gotten without being willing to crack a few skulls. But it was the January 2009 interview in Vanity Fair that started putting me off a tad. I started losing interest in Fey around this time, but my friend Diane put it in a nutshell for me--she's Tina Fey and not the lovable Liz Lemon.

Be that as it may, I'll continue to watch 30 Rock as long as Tina Fey doesn't get to... Feyey and also provided she doesn't talk down to her garden gnome of a husband for whom I know have some level of sympathy. But much more jealousy...