REVIEWS OF THE DUCHESS: FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL.

hilarious.

dear jason segel.
i have been an admirer of yours since "freaks and geeks" and "undeclared." it's good to see you working again; even better that you're doing your own material.

i understand that, by showing your penis 4 times during the early break-up scene, you got some good publicity. and probably more people turned out for opening weekend because of it.

however. while the middle-aged couple in front of me cackled wildly out of delight and discomfort at each flash-o-dick, i found the off-camera slap-slap-slap of your privates hitting your legs as you did the penis dance to be more genuinely funny. sometimes, when we are not allowed to see--but know what's going on with--another person's genitals, it is marginally more amusing.

just a thought.

but hey. you got butts in seats, and i can't blame you for that. show 'em what they want early, and then they can concentrate on even better stuff for the rest of the film. well done.

i haven't enjoyed a movie of this genre so much since "40 year-old virgin." thanks.

yours,
amber.

end review.

follow up

Feb. 7th, 2008 10:05 am
dear universe.

what is this? i know you have a lot to take care of and i'm kind of needy at the moment, but you aren't returning my calls and i'm a little bit lost.

what comes next? because i'm doing like you said, focusing on paying up my bills and completing projects heretofore left undone. but i'm a planner, and it's hard for me to be coming to the end of one agenda without another one ready and waiting.

i trust you, i really do. you've been very good to me in the past. i just want to make sure that we're all good and my karma credit isn't in jepoardy. if it is and there's any way i can improve on that, just show me the way and it's done.

my happiness--on a scale of 10--has been sitting on 5 for a very long time. i would like this to change. i really don't want to dip below that, but if it means fuel for ambition and purpose, i may welcome it (as long as it doesn't bring misfortune to anyone else).

anyway. just checking in. get back to me on this when you've got a minute.

hope you are well,

amber.

p.s. could you do something about my life's temperature? i can live here without heat and i can live with luke-warm water, but living with both (i'e. cold morning apartment + less than hot shower = wasted energy in shivers) is becoming emotionally exhausting. thanks.

why.

Jan. 14th, 2008 09:54 am
dear los angeles:

i was just beginning to like you. now that it's the season where the air is clearer and there's snow on the mountains, i realize i like living where there's some topigraphical variety. and spending an evening in silverlake has allowed me to look forward to moving there someday; gabe and i agree that we've finally found a neighborhood we can both afford and enjoy living in.

there are many things i like about you now, L.A.

but you blew it today.

1 1/2 hours to go 6 miles? are you kidding me? the usual 45 minutes is bad enough. how do you expect me to have a life outside of my shitty job with commute times like that? just because some construction workers blocked off a lane for ONE BLOCK down in centruy city, there was gridlock 5 miles back? that's just not right. it makes me late for work on a day i can't stay late and that makes me lose money and that makes me like you a little less, L.A. you're like a foster parent that had a bad morning and now you've just set us back a month on the "getting comfortable with each other" trail.

*pouts*

i hate you, L.A.

just today, though. we'll try again another day.
dear geekfunsters.

i have a couple of vacation days left this year, so if you could please finsh construction on your site:
http://www.kashyyyk.com/

i would be very greatful.

wwaaaaaaaagh waa. rrrrrr,
amber bjork.
dearest alex,

thank you for existing. you give my heart something to do.

many happy returns,
amber bjork.



behold!  the blouse to end all hoplessness!

happy thirty-fourth, boy. keep on...getting your geek on.
REVIEWS OF THE DUCHESS #158: GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD LUCK

ha! you thought i'd quit, hadn't you! the duchess never forsakes her film-eating! ...i just needed a break. i was getting overwhelmed there for a bit.

anyhow. i'm am severely impressed with this little film in every aspect. the simple and poingiant plot, the acting, the direction, the glorious contrast cinematography, and, above all, the sound/soundtrack work. i can't explain the sound...you have to watch it in the theatre to know...the qualitly of it was...so..I DON'T KNOW! and the fact that it wasn't bogged down by a soundtrack, just the usage of a few ella-type songs to move in and out of beats; i think there were no more than about 4 or 5 overall. other than that, no music. not for mood, not for underplay, nothing. they let the light and the actors convey all the emotion. thank you, "good night and good luck," for bringing hollywood a fabulous palate cleanser.

also:

OPEN LETTER TO DAVID STRATHAIRN

dear david.

you are my hero in black and white. thank you. i believed you, every single second. good luck on sunday. if you leave the theatre with a little gold companion, i will silently sending you a "you deserved it." if you don't, i won't fret. i know, and everyone else knows, you kicked ass. good for you. congratulations.

with much respect,
amber bjork.


also:

this has nothing to do with "good night and good luck." but tomorrow is february 28, national pancake day. IHOP is doing free stacks of pancakes in the morning. DO NOT BE TEMPTED. listen to my words, children. it is a fatty trap. IHOP is where souls go to die. back me up on this, aho.
the safferts are back and brought me fun and prizes. a detailed list and scans to come.

as it stands, i'm knackered and there's new developments in rehearsals of which i am weirded out by.

but it's time for bed. this is all i have to post tonight. i'm stealing it from a mail conversation i had with siri today because it was an amusement in my day. i enjoy open-lettering. it may become a major hobby.

more franz fangirling. you might just want to turn away. )
so every lunar new year, out of habit, i get my gong hee fot choy (greeting of blessings) read for the year.  my popularity card fell in the house of surprises and indeed produced a fortunate result:

 

"you will hear something good about yourself.  a new admirer.  a romance with a famous person."  *^_^*  hee!

 

ah.  i am not so foolish as to hope this "famous person" is exactly the one i want...even if i do get to meet the man later this spring.  besides, he has a very lovely and talented girlfriend whom i wish no ill will towards...i'm happy that they're happy.

 

so perhaps i will interpret this "famous" to mean simply "well known."  in that case....

 

AN OPEN LETTER TO JIM LICHTSCHEIDL.

 

goddammit, boy.  i don't know anything about your personal life.  you could be married.  you could be gay.  you could have a tail.  but i do know this:  you are silly as hell and creative in a way that makes me ashamed of my own elbows.

 

i don't know what that means.

 

"pirates of penzance" at the guthrie.  "the miser" at jeune lune.  "knock!"  what more can i say?  if your name is attached, i am at your mercy.  there are not too many actors that make me happy to be on the audience side of a stage, but i would squeeze into bad sightlines next to a big sweaty guy and pay full price for you every time if i had to.

 

anyhow.  if you're looking for someone who won't be hard to win over and makes a mean lasagne, i'm your girl.  other skills include:  livejournal addiction, thinking too much, and fire.  (i'm reletively knowlegable of all stringed instruments; please forward cuttings so that i may put in some practice time before any audition you may require.) i do not: whistle, knit, spell well.  i am allergic to:  cats, everything that isn't cats.

 

devotion:  attained.

obsession:  imminent.

invitation:  delivered.

 

yours behind the 4th wall,

amber bjork.
dear alex:

okay, now hold on there just one minute. that blue suit you wore on the cover of "spin" is hitting waaaay below the belt. you win. let's get married. you can wear the suit at the ceremony. the only thing that outfit's missing is my hot ass on your arm. aww yeah. you facking camera ham. every single time you mug i wanna slap your face for making me blush so hard. good god, and shut your mouth. that scottish brogue powers down all of my bodily functions. if you marry me, i'll let you call me eleanor, how's that? lord, what a mess you make of me.

i understand that you're busy and fitting a wedding in would be the pits. if you're suffering a cold or are otherwise indesposed, maybe you could please corporealize "outsiders?" 'cause i could take that to bed and be very happy with that.

you recall my good friend, siri? she introduced us, remember? yeah. i curse the day that bitchkitten plunked your album in my lily white fingers...because i have enough obsession in my life to be getting on with. she deserves a whipping. damnnation!

sooooooo....RSVP on the wedding then, yeah? i have to know quick because if it's not gounna work out, then i have to get letters out to ricky wilson and ewan mcgregor stat. and i'll think of you, every time i go to an art gallery or a matinee or a city on fire....

yours, against my will,
amber bjork.

p.s. more than willing to give up my citizenship and join you and the boys in glasgow.

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