tangent thirty-four: I'm live.

melissalangstonwood.com

So I'm a copywriter. With a website. Now let's just get a dank job. 

Peace. Love. Go advertising. 

tangent thirty-three: repeat offender.

I think whoever is in charge of stock photos at NBC and ABC needs to dig more. If you pay attention to my blog, you'll notice that almost the same exact photo can be seen in tangent thirty. But it's a different TV show. The screenshot at the top is of The Gates (which is a new show about vampires, werewolves, and other things of that nature). I think someone needs to be fired. Or two people need to be fired. It's clear that Parks and Recreation and The Gates do not share the same hometown. I feel as if my intelligence has been insulted. The only thing different about this shot is that they didn't photoshop "Landmark Jr." out of it. But it's still next to the same seedy porn shop and it's definitely the same diner. Give me a little more credit, guys. And do your research about people who watch these shows in Atlanta. I'll notice. I'll notice every time. 

Peace. Love. Cheshire Bridge.

tangent thirty-two: Macs get ass.

Hola. 

I hope everyone is having a great day. I was having an awesome day until I saw the commercial above. I don't like PCs. Now, as a Mac owner, I'm sure it sounds trivial and petty. It's not. Recently, I watched a newer PC commercial (the one seen above) and my convictions about PCs were strengthened. I hope you don't mind, but I have chosen to list the reasons why Macs get college guys laid and PCs don't: 

1. It is obvious this kid's roommate owns a Mac. It's the only proper way to play iTunes while "privately tutoring" freshmen girls. 
2. According to Jason, TV time is a lot more valuable than sex. According to the rest of us, Jason will die a virgin.
3. Jason's not wearing shoes. I wonder if he left for class like that, noticed he wasn't wearing shoes, and returned to his dorm room only to find a sock on the door (which is still the universal code for doing it). I'm glad some things never change. 
4. Judging by the sock size, no wonder the roommate hooks up a lot.
5. Look at Jason's socks. 
6. In his dreams, Jason is an attractive white male with piercing eyes who is surrounded by women. But he's still in the hallway. Not in his room getting laid. Sounds like someone needs to be incepted. 
7. I bet Jason has a sweatpants boner. I guess that's one thing his PC is good for. 
8. DVR isn't that innovative. Everyone has DVR. Try inventing time travel, Jason. That's the kind of thing that will make seven ladies join you in a hallway to watch TV on your computer.
9. His roommate totally schools him in front of the camera. He's also probably wondering who Jason keeps talking to about his stupid computer. 
10. Jason admits to his perversion and stays to listen to his roommate have sex. All night. 
11. The roommate's girl totally schools him again. And she sounds really annoyed. Come to think of it, it's probably a different chick. Maybe even his third or fourth chick of the day. 

Peace. Love. I'm a Mac and this tangent was my idea. 


(Side note: This list honestly has nothing to do with the commercial itself. It's just a mere vessel for me to convey my feelings. Anything PC-related brings me back to those days in college when I used to fight with my Dell day in and day out about everything. So, to whoever created this commercial, bravo. I just can't bring myself to buy a PC ever again.)

tangent thirty-one: Justin Bieber remembers childhood.

Confession.

I like Justin Bieber. I'm not really sure why, although if you know me I guess you're not all that surprised.  It probably stems from my utmost desire to stay a tween forever. I purchased his EP a while ago and had forgotten about it until today when I discovered it in my car's CD player. I've been rocking the radio lately so I didn't realize it was in there. Whatever. That's not the point of this tangent. While I enjoy the high-pitched, soprano voice of Sir Bieber, I am troubled by one song in particular. In the song Bigger Justin belts out the lyrics:

"...I was a playa when I was little

But now I'm bigga, I'm bigga
A heart-breaker when I was little 

But now I'm bigga, I'm bigga
And all the haters I swear they look so small from up here
Cuz we're bigga, and love's bigga,
I'm bigga and you're bigga..." 

I won't subject those of you with decent music taste to the rest of the song. You can google it or click to hear it on YouTube. I don't really want to embed it in my blog. I may like the kid, but I do have some standards. Anyway. I'm not sure what Justin Bieber sees when he looks in the mirror, but last time I checked he was still the size of my kneecap. According to the lyrics above, Justin was a playa and a heart-breaker (but not a heart-breaka) when he was little. But now, clearly, he's bigga. Also, he promises that all the haters look small from where he's standing because he and love and even I are all bigga. I'm offended by the bold-faced lie he's telling to all of the fragile young girls out there. And the fragile not-so-young 25-year-old who dedicated an entire blog post to the young man. If, in fact, he is telling the truth then what I took away from the song was this: Justin Bieber matured at the ripe age of 12, where he ceased his pimping ways and instead of having his mom drive her minivan to multiple girls' houses on a Friday night, she now only drives him to one. Due to the recent maturation, Justin's haters are all smaller than him (meaning that his haters must include Verne Troyer, a leprechaun, and ants). And, yes, Justin is in love. All because he has deluded himself into believing he is "bigga". Ignorance must indeed be bliss. Cheers to adulthood, Justin.

Peace. Love. I'm a Belieber. 

tangent thirty: parks and atlantation.

Click to enlarge. 

I have major sleeping issues. As in I can never get any. But as I was catching up on my TV shows I noticed something. Okay, actually I can't take credit for noticing anything. My boyfriend noticed. So we were watching Parks and Recreation and one of the still shots caught his attention. Turns out it's the Landmark Diner. On Cheshire Bridge next to seedy porn shops and a tattoo parlor. Just thought I'd share. I don't know if any of you find it as entertaining. I think it's super rad. Then again, strange things bring me joy. Goodnight.

Peace. Love. ATL ho.

PS: Also, I noticed that I posted on a Tuesday without doing a tangent about music. My bad. Some of you aren't aware, but Tuesday tangents are referred to as "Tuneage Tuesdays" and although I don't really post on Tuesday that much it was a nice theme even if some of you weren't aware I was doing it. This time I did not follow through. Forgive me. It won't happen again. But it might. And probably will. 

tangent twenty-nine: update on tangent twenty-eight.

Click to enlarge. 

Well, it's confirmed. 

Peace. Love. More feet babies.

(A special thanks to Hilary Murphy for sending me this.)

tangent twenty-eight: put some sperm in your step.

Happy Sunday. 

It hasn't been too long since we last met. I actually just got back from NYC last night, and the only reason I told you that is so I could say that I was in NYC. Because it's cool to say that I've been in NYC. Probably because you haven't. Unless you're one of my followers who inhabits the Circus with me. In that case, you're cool too. Maybe. There are a few of you who could use some work. Yesterday, as the plane was taking off (leaving NYC, of course) I turned off my uber awesome iPad (because you can't have electronic devices on planes during takeoff, even in NYC) I started reading the SkyMall magazine. I must say that there are some pretty cool gadgets in that thing. Almost as cool as spending time in NYC last week. There are also some pretty lame gadgets and gifts in the mag, like those hanging tomato gardens. Then I came across the sneakers seen in the picture above. Notice anything weird about them? Other than the obviously atrocious art direction, there are sperm embroidered on the side of them. Yes, sperm. These shoes also guarantee to make you feel like you're defying gravity, which makes sense because sex is supposed to make you feel like that too. That's how they portray it in movies, anyway. I hope you can see the whole ad. It's a little absurd. Okay, I'm out. I have to regroup because I was in NYC last week and I am so tired from all of the coolness going on there. Truth be told, I don't think I'm cool enough to be there. I forgot the right shoes, and I'm pretty sure I have a stress fracture from wearing flip-flops all week. Too bad I wasn't wearing the sperm shoes. I could've had a floorgasm. Or something like that. 

Peace. Love. Feet babies.