Kat Dennings

reach out and crutch someone

Here is what I would like to know:

WHY

WHY

WHYYYY

do bugs follow me? Why.

WHY when tonight as I sat innocently on the couch did I feel the tiniest of movements and I looked down to see a giant black spider crawling around my pants. WHY.

WHY when I was taking a brisk stroll around my innocent street this evening did I see a giant black BEETLE crawling around the shoulder of the person in front of me, forcing me to flick it to its presumed demise, 300-style. WHY.

WHY ARE THERE BUGS ALL UP IN MY GRILL AT ALL TIMES. They love me, that is the answer.

If I were less secure in my life I would perhaps be cracking under this horrendous realization. But no, I remain in the 'horse stance' of mental health, hoisting the misshapen keys of calmness above my head like in The Phantom Hourglass maze level I gave up at.

The hilariousness of this all is the trouble I went to, slathering myself in 'Bug-Off' towelettes before I went outside. I smell like citronella and my cat won't go near me but the very insects this cocktail was supposed to repel seem to think I'm made of pop tarts because they're all over me. They love me.

ANYWAY, I would like to try to forget that the very MacBook charger lying beside me is the very same instrument of death I wielded on the spider not half an hour ago, so I am going to resume watching Golden Girls.

Love,
Kat

let me close that

I have landed, once again, on the airport soil of life, the howling wind of anger torturing the luggage ramp of the universe. I am a giving person. A loving person. Some might say I am a loving, giving person. But I literally, if given the option, would set aflame the people on facebook and myspace stealing my pictures and pretending to be me. I am loving and giving, meaning I would "LOVE" to "GIVE" them "PUNCHES" IN THE "FACE!"

AAAAANYWAY, I just finished shooting my part in the wonderful "The Dream of The Romans". Leaving there was very difficult, but the car alarms and what can only be described as fifes outside my window all night long did their best to make me feel better about going home. Sigh. LTP, I miss you like the deserts miss the rain!

I think my new air vent is probably haunted. It makes jangly noises as if burdened by the spirit of keyrings. The pain.

It's pretty late, I guess. I'm in a bad mood. Must sleep...I will think about baby owls. Aww.

pond scum love

As I empty my 5000 gallon dehumidifier chamber into my sink for the second time this week, I watch the front pieces of my hair get soaked with the perverse satisfaction of a compulsive roadkill collector. There were THREE gnats or whatever in the water this time, sick. I notice more and more of those little bastards up in my grill as I walk around this time of year, and I know they're just trying to go around me but I get upset when they fly into my mouth.

I feel weird lately, and I wish it were as simple as becoming a woman or something but I don't think it's that. And although it'd be awesome and I've had brushes with the possibility, I don't think I'm becoming a superhero either. Today I fell asleep on the couch for five hours and as I descended into the impossibly black slumber bog I felt strangely as if my whole body was rippling, like my legs were moving around but they weren't. I was all like "EMERGENCY" and then I was all like "zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz".

In conclusion, I probably have only days to live and also probably won't meet David Bowie before my death. My death, most likely, from ripple-legthsma. It's no joking matter!

Also, there is something about the first season of Felicity that is missing from the second season. Something magical and important. I don't know what! But it bugs me.

Love,
Kat

frostitute

Remember last year when I saw a chicken cross the road? Kids, the magic is a fountain that keeps on giving, because yesterday I was at the park and:

A BUTTERFLY.

ALIGHTED.

ON MY HAND.

Alighted, I say!

And then it lingered, bittersweetly, atop my mitt, and then flew away. And as I smacked my head in awe and general love of nature I felt a gentle fluttering and lowered my hand to my face just in time to see my winged friend take off again. TWICE! TWICE IT LANDED ON ME!

And then it flew into the trees for a while and circled back like a boomerang of love and happiness, and it tried to land on me again but the wind was too strong. Damn you, wind, you jerk!

And then someone that will go unnamed but it rhymes with Latthew Lray Lubler decided to stuff buttercups in my mouth and the magic was gone.

Butterfly, black and yellow, I barely knew ye. Yet you seemed stockier than other butterflies, as if you were the shetland pony of the butterfly horse community. Made for farming. Your wings were like apple chips. I imagine you to be a scrappy fighter, a delicate lover, and an intuitive cook. Don't tell me you don't scrapbook on the weekends, I know that you're lying.

Butterfly, let's call you Bub. I miss you already.

Love,
Kat

morderline mersonality mismorder

Watch the danger roll through as I hop on the "five facts" bandwagon.

Love,
Kat

troublicious

As I demolish this pack of 'strawberry splash' gum with the heartless abandon of somebody with no regard for jaw comfort or convenience, I ponder the mysteries of life. Mysteries such as:

1. Miley Cyrus' "See You Again" somehow being on repeat in the "purchased" section of my iTunes...I would have an excuse but unfortunately "just being Miley" doesn't apply to this situation

2. the spider on my ceiling yesterday sitting motionless and then being NOWHERE TO BE SEEN the moment I found my flyswatter, therefore cementing my eventual demise by tiny-leg-poisoning in the night

3. I won't name names, but I am amazed at how interviews are seemingly transcribed by space monkeys with no regard for our earth language. BORK BORK BORK

4. BORK

5. becoming possessed by the demon of organization and then getting an exorcism from Father Sleepytime exactly an hour later

6. ducks are adorable

7. my jaw is killing me now.

Love,
Kat

spleenfest

holla!

Charlie Bartlett!

CHAAAARLIE BARTLETT comes out today, go see it if you can. Trust me, you will love it.

Oh and PS:

If you saw it online, I expect you to see it twice.

I'm watching you.

Love,
Kat

chroma-gnome

Since Daniel Day Lewis is late to his husband appointment in my imagination, he leaves me with no other choice but to post the few musings that float through me like the sugar-dusted cornflakes of sadness in the milk-filled bowl of life, stirred gently by the dented spoon of the universe. The pain!

BREAKING NEWS:

1. I managed to electrocute myself again, this time by brushing against the seemingly harmless firewire cable that dangled smugly from my external hard drive. The sensation was one of heat and agony: hagony.

Unlike last time, Bill Murray was nowhere to be seen.

2. Power ballads. Need I say more? Hopefully not. Hopefully you can't even read this through the blurred vision caused by the sweet riff on the bridge in Heart's "Alone". You animals!

3. Re-reading "A Confederacy of Dunces". Once again it tugs at the lute strings of my soul.

4. Soooooooooooooooooo tiiiiiiiiiired

5. My beloved Bertrand has some dust or something on his nose, reminding me of Viggo Mortenson's intense new beardstache that somehow invaded the bone structure factory that is his visage. Back, facial hair demon, back I say!

Why am I still typign...can't see what th ekeys are....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

WHAT?!?!??!?

Rest in peace, Heath Ledger.