humans are funny

Author: laurenne

  • It’s okay, Triceratops. I believe in you

    I used to think I was so mature for my age. In high school, I felt so much older than all my friends. I knew I was the only one who could be trusted to make really important decisions like choosing which Snapple would taste best with the Absolut Peppar someone stole. When they didn’t listen to me, I would scream and swear at them all. I’m really not sure how I had any friends.

    My actual lack of maturity is most evident when reminiscing about my senior trip to Cancun. All I cared about was roasting myself to the perfect shade of mahogany and getting wasted. The routine was: Spend all day drinking beer bongs on the white sand. Spend all night dancing and meeting guidos in the clubs.

    This vacation in Utila, Honduras is a little different.

    Not only is it 9pm and I’m already in bed, I also don’t really like mahogany anymore. On Saturday, I decided to relax at the beach for a few hours to read a book in the sun (read: roast myself to a mahogany shade, but don’t tell because then the ‘I’m so different’ thing doesn’t work). I stopped at a local eatery to try a Honduran specialty (la baleada). It’s like a quesadilla but with beans instead of cheese. Thumbs up.

    A pair of local guys pulled up and ordered beers, talking about the rapture. I knew right away I wouldn’t make it to the beach and get a tan. And I didn’t care (Okay, now I’m different. It works again.).

    According to these Utilan islanders, their families were part of the original Irish settlers to the island in 1840. One looked straight out of Good Will Hunting, a Bostonian with a fitted cap. Super white. The other was round and dark, a big smile missing its two front teeth. They both spoke English with an islander accent, almost Jamaican-sounding. The guy with the missing teeth told me he’s a dentist, and I settled in for a long and joyful conversation.

    Toothless Dentist: The world is not going to end tonight. No way. Some American is spreading lies again.

    American Looking Dude: An American?! Of course it’s an American. They’re idiots. All Americans are idiots. Hey miss, where you from?

    Me: Spain.

    Toothless Dentist: I know the rapture is not today because my religion says there is no date. I’m 7th Day Adventist, and the truth is that there was once a rapture scheduled for October 22, 1844 and everybody got ready for it. And on that night, the moon started to bleed and all the stars fell from the sky.

    He’s getting really animated.

    Toothless Dentist: All the stars just fell to the earth and the sky was totally black with only the bloody moon. And then, nothing happened. No rapture. It was a day of disappointment. And the next day, everyone who felt tricked started this new religion: 7th Day Adventist. And we don’t believe in any dates.

    Fascinating. Most of the islanders here are 7th Day Adventists, and it’s nice to understand what they might be talking about in one of the myriad of churches here. But somehow we got to talking about science. And that’s when Mr. Toothless Dentist lost some of his credibility.

    Toothless Dentist: There’s no such thing as dinosaurs. That’s all bullshit.

    American Looking Dude Who Hates Americans: Yeah. Stupid dinosaurs.

    Toothless Dentist: I found a skeleton once. It was very old. I could tell it was a teenage boy. But I couldn’t tell how long it had been buried. There’s no way they can tell how old dinosaur bones are. Millions of years! That’s ridiculous.

    He laughs and laughs.

    Me: I think they use a process called carbon dating.

    Toothless Dentist: Carbonation! I’ll tell you about Carbonation! Carbonation happened when the flood came. Noah’s flood. There was so much water that came from God that it squished everything down.

    He pretends to squish the Earth with his hands and scrunches his face for emphasis.

    Toothless Dentist: That flood destroyed everything. Nothing was left. Not a thing. Not a bone. So, that’s why I know there’s no such thing as those dinosaurs that they say are millions of years old. Because there’s no such thing as evidence of anything that is over 4000 years old. It was all destroyed.

    Me: So… You think the earth is only 4000 years old?

    Toothless Dentist: I know it is. I know the truth. And you can know the truth too if you just accept Jesus. What do you do?

    Me: I’m a writer.

    Toothless Dentist: Don’t write about me.

    I love that this man based everything on the night the moon bled but thought saving the date for a rapture was ludicrous.
    And then it dawned on me that we all think everyone’s beliefs are so crazy when they differ from our own. I thought those guys were crazy. They thought Harold Camping was crazy. And if they’d have asked me my beliefs (reincarnation), they would have thought I was crazy too. And sometimes I do as well– we come back over and over again? Sounds like something invented for people who can’t let go.

    The lesson is: We’re all crazy. Even you guys, atheists. To think that this is all for nothing also sounds pretty iffy. In actuality, whatever happens after we die probably IS crazy. But we shouldn’t judge another’s crazy ideas when we’re all just grasping onto whatever crazy makes us feel better.

    Except… that rapture thing was pretty stupid.
    And… That flood thing is bullshit.

    I’d also like to note that, just to be safe, I looked up carbon dating when I got home. It sounds legit. Not as legit as flood carbonation, but almost.

  • God Reschedules Rapture

    All righty! The blog post that started HERE is now in Funny or Die format here:

    But, be warned! There was some improvisation going on. I didn’t know he would call the Bible trash. Yah, he calls the Bible trash. So… maybe you shouldn’t watch it if you love Bibles. But, hey, it’s for fun. It’s a funny thing. That’s why the people who are out to get the South Park guys and that other cartoonist dude who drew the Prophet Muhammad will totally understand that I was just joking when I wrote the line in here that describes what the Prophet Muhammad looks like. Right? All in jest. Besides, no time to be mad or offended when we’re all about to die. Happy Rapture!

    Also, Antonio Sabato Jr!

  • Cut! Let’s up the douche factor a notch, guys. Take 5. Action!

    I have to admit I’ve never ever really felt very cool. Even when I was considered kinda ‘cool’ in high school, I usually felt like it would be just a minute before someone figured out I wasn’t cool and relegated me to the nerdy table with the mouth breathing band members.

    The horror!

    In college, I thought it was cooler to not be part of the ‘cool’ fraternity system, so I was definitely not looked upon as cool. Thankfully, the whole notion of cool sort of dissipates after that unless you and your group of friends still hit bars in troops with popped collars, thinking you’re cool. In that case, yes, you’re totally cool.

    The other day, though, I finally felt cool for the first time. (I will stop using the word ‘cool’ soon. Promise.).

    It started when I wrote a blog post about interviewing God (it’s here if you haven’t read it). I felt I had to talk to him because I think it’s only fair that we have a chat if it’s true we’re all going to die on May 21st, like many Christian groups are saying (actually one Christian group is saying it and it’s not really a group– more like a couple of dudes. But they’re buying up billboards in LA to make us think this is the big one). I asked God lots of questions. He gave me no info and turned out to be sort of douchey.

    I tried to sell my time with God to Vice magazine as a follow up to this interview with the leader of those couple of Christian dudes. They didn’t want it. I didn’t get so much blog traffic that day. I liked the post, but it seemed to be just ‘meh’ to everyone else.

    Until I got a call from Funny or Die. They wanted to shoot it as a sketch for their front page! Ok, this is where I started feeling cool. Started.
    Since it has to air before May 21st, we were suddenly on a production fast track.  Derek and Kelly, the directing team, found a director of photography and props and made creative phone calls and shot lists. The Funny or Die team sent out a net to cast the right celebrities to play ME, and God. WHAT? Someone to play me!!! They booked a hotel suite as the interview location and spent a few grand to get the whole thing running.

    WHAT!? All this because of something I thought of at some coffee shop in Venice just days before.

    Coooooooool.

    When I walked on set that day, the cool was rising. Both actors were from TV shows!!! Kyle Bornheimer from Perfect Couples (among other things) and Janina Gavankar from True Blood (Yes, an Indian actress played me. I would LOVE to be Indian. Why am I not Indian? Also, why don’t I watch TV? I hate my excuse about it blocking me from my creative process because then I look like the douche. At least I’m a cool douche. But I felt horrible for not having seen either show. I wish I’d had some good phrases lined up to say like, “You were so great in that pool scene last season.” I had nothing.). There was a hair and makeup lady at the ready, a guy with a sound boom… It was a full production of something I wrote. But the moment when I felt I had truly arrived was when the PA brought in the craft services.

    Craft. Services. My sketch was worthy of Wheat Thins, hummus, donuts, coffee, and plenty of bottled water. Plenty! Like, we could have each drunk three or FOUR! And the hummus was that really good creamy kind.

    100% Cool.

    I didn’t get to call ‘action’ or hold that clappy black and white thing like I originally planned on begging to do, but that’s only because the cool factor rose tremendously when a surprise cameo was scheduled. This surprise model graced my walls growing up. I had his calendar up from 1993-98. I was willing to accidentally mix up dates just to have this man’s pectoral muscles hang on my wall. This guy is hot. With a pack of six. I couldn’t go around set acting like I was grateful for the hummus and bottled water. I had to pose against the wall to make it look like I wasn’t posing. I had to laugh and flip my hair back casually as if shooting something I wrote was totally boring. He came in, shook everyone’s hand, read a few lines, and left. But HE SHOOK MY HAND. I didn’t tell him about the calendar. But, we did make eye contact for at least .43 seconds. I think he likes me. He’s probably going to see my name on the sketch and click to this blog and then Facebook and then email to tell me how cool I am. Yes, for sure. I can feel it. (Is anyone who uses the word ‘cool’ actually cool? Now I’m having second thoughts.)

    The best part of the day was that he wasn’t the best part. The best part was watching the actors improv. I’ve taken my share of improv classes, and maybe once I made someone laugh, but these guys were pros. So funny. They took what I wrote, added to it, and made it their own. Like Levi’s. Or Burger King. Or the hundreds of other brands that tell you to personalize their shit to make it something completely unique even though it could never be unique because it’s a tea or something everyone else already has. What they did was definitely their own. In a good way.

    Did I mention a celebrity got to play me?! There’s about to be a biopic out. Ok, not really. It’s a three-minute sketch, but there were Wheat Thins there!
    The WORLD PREMIERE is This Thursday. I’ll post it. Please watch it. Then we can all be cool together. And I’ll finally stop saying ‘cool.’


    Wheat thins!

  • This post is, like, so international.

    I’m in Utila, an island off Honduras in the Caribbean Sea.
    I’m having a delightfully relaxing time. Swear. Yes, my rental apartment was infested with fleas when I got here, but the fresh mangoes, the bathwater sea, and the strange Spanish spoken here are mesmerizing. I’ve already forgotten everything about the U.S. Something about a melting pot and hula hoops?
    I’m sitting right now on a balcony under a canopy of green banana and avocado trees. I hiked three hours this morning (read: got really lost). Nobody around to ask. Nothing around but a family of horses, lots of lizards, and silence. YES!
    I took a catamaran to get here, and as I waited for my skipper yesterday, a local guy warned me.
    “Don’t go to Utila, he said. “There’s absolutely nothing to do there.”

    Exactly.

    Mother and daughter! I thought it was cute until I heard them fighting. I think the mother resents the daughter for ruining her twenties. That’s just what I got out of it.

    “Kool Music Clean Toilet” Marketing geniuses on this here island.

    So far the only friend I’ve met here. His name is Bob.
    Doesn’t sound like a local name, but he was totally born here.

    This Osama picture and Sherwin-Williams calendar were posted behind a bakery’s display case. I decided not to patronize the place. Not because I felt hated as a Westerner at a place in support of terrorists. More because I much prefer Glidden or Behr.

    Heading down under there tomorrow for some diving. See you again soon unless my air tank explodes and/or a shark eats me and/or Osama is actually hiding here under the sea.

  • Of course! Yes! Why not?! Absolutely!

    My newest sexual fantasy is that I meet a guy at a supermarket by the bananas. We smile to each other. I take him back to my place. He fluffs up my pillows. I relax on the bed. He begins to slowly dip a rag in hot water and wipe it over all my dishes while I get out my computer. I send out all the emails I’ve been putting off.  I complete everything on my internet to-do list while he refreshes my coffee and occasionally sashays by naked.

    And scene.

    I’ve become asexual because of my constant overwhelm. If you have emailed me and think I’m a bitch for not responding, you’re not alone. I have a list of 100 emails to send. And a million things to do. People who are off curing AIDS surely have a more important to-do list than I do, but mine is long. And it’s all my fault because I have forgotten how to form that word ‘no.’ Do you want to be in this show? Yes. Do you want to dance in an internet video so people can put their head on your body as you wriggle around? Sure. Do you want to drive two hours to interview these guys for an article that doesn’t pay anything? Of course! I actually want to do all those things. I’m stuck between time and my do-everything ideal. Stupid time!

    I’m buried. I’m suffocated. I finally realized this when my birthday came around this past Sunday. I was annoyed by it. Not by the fact that I am aging, but because it was another thing on my to-do list. Ugh, I can’t stop by Target because I have to celebrate that birthday thing.  Let’s get it over with.

    WHAT!?
    I mean, WHAT!?
    I must be stopped.

    Trying to sell an article about picnic spots in LA CANNOT be as important as I’m making it. I’m annoying myself. Is it possible to annoy yourself to death with your own self-importance? I may be in danger.

    A few days ago, I finally began exercising my free will.
    I said ‘no.’
    And I said it with a vengeance. As much vengeance I could muster through text.
    A nice young man approached me in the parking lot of Barnes & Noble. I wasn’t terribly attracted to him, but he was quite persistent. I knew my fantasies could use some bolstering, and I miss wearing heels. So, I said… yes.
    Even though something about him was shady.
    Even though he asked me out in a parking lot.
    Even though he told me he wasn’t at work at 11am because he was the boss of an ad agency and he’d given everyone the day off.
    Even though I have worked at ad agencies and have never seen a 29-year-old boss who could give a department the day off.
    Even though he said he was the boss despite his only being in advertising a year after injuring himself in the NBA.

    I pedaled home, pissed at my lack of ‘no’s.
    Then I Googled his very unique name because that’s what we do these days. Nothing about the NBA or advertising. Nothing explaining the reason he might be hanging out in parking lots.
    And then he sent me this picture:

    And then this picture:

    And I said NO.
    And he continued to send pictures. Like this one:


    And then, with chest puffed and full confidence, I said:
    I’m not interested. At all. Looking for someone older who won’t try to seduce me with pictures. NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    It felt good. I felt like this could be the start of a beautiful relationship with ‘no.’
    Still, he sent me this picture:

    And for one whole week now, I’ve been getting text after text.
    Good morning, Laurenne. Have a great day.
    Good night, Laurenne. Enjoy your sleep.

    So, what I’ve learned from this experience is: I suffer from the inability to say ‘no.’ And when I finally do, shady men won’t let me.

    This is why I am taking myself to a place that will force me into solitude. I won’t be able to clobber myself with busy work or attend any shows. Consider me indisposed (but not in the way people say it when they mean they’re going to the bathroom). I will be in Honduras for the next three weeks. I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s there. I just know that there’s an island that I’ve never heard of (Utila). There are whale sharks, which are the biggest fish to date (about 40ft). And there’s a little bungalow calling out to me to relax and maybe celebrate that birthday. I’ll still be laughing at humans here because I have an unusual attachment to this very shade of blue and white. But I won’t be able to get any more texts. Or pictures.

    See you soon. Unless you’re the advertising boss/NBA player.

    PLEASE NOTE: This post was written in haste, as I am packing and have a million things to do.