Kat Dennings

i love children

don't worry, I'm still crazy

 

I hate myself

Autumn is upon us! Upon us like vanilla-flavored fog from that movie "Simply Irresistible". Shut up, Patricia Clarkson's in it! 

And what does a girl have to do to get her Twitter account verified around here? @OfficialKat! Come on, Twitter Lord!

I promise to write here more. And stay tuned for another tragic video blog about bananas or moustaches or things of that nature. You know how it is.

Kat

no bueno

Dear Scientists,

I feel like the insane advancement in Robot technology is a real, REAL bad move on your part. Soon our entire planet will turn into a movie starring Will Smith, only it will be a robot version of Will Smith, because the actual Will Smith will have expected this and moved his family to a Mars dome, and it also won't be a movie, it will be REAL.

Tonight I saw a video of two robots with humanoid heads KISSING. Romantic? No. Hideous and scary and will haunt my nightmares? Yes. 

WHEN WILL IT BE ENOUGH FOR YOU, TECHNOLOGY SCIENTISTS?!? We are doomed.

Love,

Kat

You know you're Kat Dennings when:

1. you rifle through the cabinets saying "dammit, where are my novelty cups" and you are deadly serious

2. you cry at the end of "Only You", not because Faith and Peter finally end up together, but because you wish you had a ribcage as narrow as Marisa Tomei's

3. you've eaten so much dried seaweed your mom says you'll get iodine poisoning

4. you find yourself singing to apple sauce: 

"hey apple sauce is your daddy home/did he go away and leave you all alone/I got a bad desire/oohhh ohhh ohhh I'm gonna eat you"

5. you watch half of "Dead Ringers" in the hopes of having a nightmare about Jeremy Irons

6. you have a nightmare about Criss Angel

I want to make you a tiny jacket out of this leaf

THINGS WEARING OFF:

glitter eyeliner

silver nail polish

tolerance for daily 4 mile run

tolerance for mosh pits

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My lip is bleeding and I don't know why. I don't recall making out with a lawnmower...although anything can happen when under the influence of ice water.

In other news, I made a very special new friend yesterday. It warms my heart. Also, I want a rice cake. Immediately. With stuff on it, don't worry. I don't eat plain rice cakes. That would be outrageous.

誕生日

23

Listening to Patton Oswalt and choking on almond milk

23

bunnies?

i went there

oh good

When it rains, it pours, spider-wise. And I'm so glad because I was worried that I might start enjoying my life, you know? Anyway, tonight during a Netflix Instant screening of an embarrassingly 90s teen romcom I stumbled blindly into my bathroom mirror to inspect my facial situation when what should appear in my shower but a GIGANTIC ARACHNID. And it was just far enough away in the corner that it was going to have to be one of those get-on-all-fours terminations that I always find especially hideous. Therefore, I calmly and gracefully weighed my murdering options. 

Option 1: Clorox

Yes, Clorox, which I had employed on my shower floor not 8 hours earlier suddenly became a powdery instrument of death. I dumped a large blue amount in the corner, knocking Wiggles to the ground. Sigh.

Option 2: Water

Obbviously. On went the shower and a lot of general sloshing happened but Wiggles had obviously graduated from Water University with a degree in Survival so it didn't do much for anybody.

Option 3: Force

By this time I was pretty upset and Freddie Prinze Jr. was realizing he really loved her in the background and so it was business time. Desperate flailing. Last breaths. Limb lossage...and the spider wasn't doing well either. 

Aftermath: Guilt

After Wiggles wiggled into spider heaven I, shirt soaked, glasses fogged, CROSSED MYSELF and said "aahhhhh I'm sorry" over and over to the black and white tile of the universe. And then I realized I don't know how to correctly cross myself and it all got a little depressing.

Moral:

I'm craaaazy

I'll tell you when I've had enough

Dear My Couch:

As you are most likely aware, I did a bit of spring cleaning this morning. I did some laundry, made the bed, Swiffered the crap out of the fireplace and Windexed all the damn mirrors. And I was feeling pretty good about it all until YOU decided to house a spider colony and ruin my life when I came over for some innocent pillow sprucing. It is YOU, Couch, that makes me feel unsafe in my own home. Don't think I didn't hear you chortle as I did my patented "Pre-Murder Spider Regret Dance". 

Thanks for nothing.

Love,

Kat

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Yes, that happened. I've been wondering why my life has been so pleasant lately...I haven't had a spider attack in months. Months, you know? How nice for me. And now I'm going to quell my anxiety by watching a film concerning Daniel Day Lewis and English accents.