TechnoGeekery Show #28: Leopard and XP Secret Tip

This secret tip is so wicked awesome it is sure to help alleviate even the worst mouse clicking fatigue. And, hey! Who knew Leopard and Windows XP had so much in common? BOOYAH!

Okay, first of all, there is News regarding my video podcast o’ technogeekery, which I relay to you in my latest episode of TechnoGeekery with Chassy Cat (which I will always upload via my brand-spanking new Podango’s Flash 9 player in my sidebar here at DWM. I KNOW, right?!):

TechnoGeekery is Brought to You By…

On this Very Special Episode of TechnoGeekery, I announce the show’s very first Corporate Sponsor: Johnson & Johnson’s Aveeno Baby products.

That’s right! TechnoGeekery, along with the Mommycast and Friends Family Channel and Aveeno Baby, is making total podcast history! No, REALLY. Please feel free (and by “feel free” I mean, “do this, please, please, oh please…”) to click on the Aveeno Baby banner under “The Latest at TechnoGeekery” at my TechnoGeekery site to learn more about their products (and to show just how awesome we TechnoGeeks are, naturally!). Thank you so much for your support.

Oh, and buy Aveeno lotion. Then tell me about how awesome it is in the comment section of my TechnoGeekery site. And then click on the Aveeno banner again. Are you getting what I’m saying here? CLICK!

Also, if you haven’t visited me at iTunes, please stop by and leave me tons of positive feedback! Unless you have nothing nice to say, in which case, stay AWAY.

Thanks!

And FINALLY… the recommendation portion of this post:

Despite an unsolicited newfound intimate knowledge of Jason Segel’s manbits, Forgetting Sarah Marshall is laugh out loud funny. It’s got my girl Kristen Bell (Veronica Mars!) in it, and seriously, her British rocker boyfriends steals every scene he’s in. And there are PUPPETS, people! PUPPETS!

In fact, this movie was so laugh out loud HIII-larious, that I will probably have to see it again! Oh, because the packed theater laughed so loudly that I missed stuff, not because of the manbits. Sheesh. Get your minds out of the gutters. (Yes, I’m talking to YOU, William and Nils…)

Check it out! Hey, I meant the MOVIE.

Honestly. You people…

Nothing perks an injured gal up more than an email from her friendly neighborhood Sheriff Lamb (AKA: Michael Muhney of Veronica Mars fame)! Of course, until a few days ago I thought the email from Sheriff Lamb, I mean Michael Muhney, was simply the product of my Percocet-induced loopy-doopy mind, but NO! He really WROTE to me! Out of the BLUE! Because he’s AWESOME! I mean, he wrote to me while dandling his newborn baby on his KNEE! And I can’t believe I just used the word “DANDLING”! Because who SAYS that?!

Of course, the contents of said email are private and close to my heart, so BACK OFF.

Anyway, now I’m feeling a bit nostalgic, so I thought I would re-post my interview –okay, FINE, Paige was there, too, but whatever– with the most awesome Michael Muhney, who is obviously, like, my BFF now, right? Right? Oh, BTW, Paige, Sheriff Lamb, I mean Michael Muhney, says, “Hi.” But whatever. He still likes me best. Clearly.

**Aside to My BFF, Michael Muhney, Intended to Display My Self-Importance: Michael Muhney, you know I think you rock. And since you apparently know Joss FREAKING Whedon (squeeee!) well enough to have actual conversations with him… *just breathe… breathe…*… well, here’s hoping he realizes how rockin’ you are, too. **

Man. I don’t remember the video being THAT long. But still? AWESOME!

Also, don’t forget to check out my — I mean, OUR (my bad, Paige!)– special tribute to Sheriff Lamb, lovingly produced after his life was cut tragically short by the almighty crack of a baseball bat to the head.

Lately I’ve been pondering the complexities of friendship. And not just any friendship, but Best Friend Forever-ship. BFFship, if you will. You see, shortly after I married TGIM, I cross-stitched (okay, shut it) “Happiness is Being Married to My Best Friend” (seriously, I will cut you), which I then framed and proudly hung on our apartment wall. Honestly. I don’t think you properly understand just how painful it is for me to disclose this heretofore repressed memory of archetypal suburban domesticity, but I do it for the sake of my ART, okay? Because only recently I have discovered the inherent flaw in my claim of spousal BFFship which I unwittingly bought into for several years. The sad fact is… well, TGIM?

Yeah. He’s a guy.

Don’t get me wrong. In the grand scheme of things, there is nobody I would rather be with. In the event of, say, nuclear holocaust or a big-ass spider on the kitchen floor, TGIM is the person I want in my corner. Romantic cruise or candle-lit dinner for two? He’s my guy. My numero uno. My… TGIM.

Yet… recently I was listening to my best of good friends, Paige, talk about heading out to Hawaii to be with her sister as she gives birth to her second baby. Since I knew all about the recent experience Paige had doing the same thing for a friend, it was easy to envision her providing comfort, encouragement, back massages, even ice chips for her sister. Aw! So sweet!

Then I recollected TGIM during the birth of our second child, sitting at the edge of MY hospital bed staring at the television, remote control in hand, saying in a reasonable voice, “Come on! It’s not that bad. I’ll massage your back during the commercials!”

And that’s when it really hit me. Guys and gals? Totally different, yo?

What I’ve learned is that a woman should never underestimate the power of a best girlfriend. And not just any girlfriend, but a kindred spirit. A bosom bud. A BFF. And yesterday this point was driven home in spades.

Allow me to illustrate:

See, I was feeling all brave and buoyant and masochistic yesterday and before I knew it I was at the mall shopping for a new swimming suit.

I know, right?! Oh, and just so you know, my body just shivered convulsively at the memory. No, seriously. I totally shuddered. I just thought I’d point that out, you know, just to illustrate. I mean, since you can’t see me an all. For reals, y’all. I’m all in a dither! In fact, I typed “aswo;4wrj” instead of what I intended to write next (because of the shaking?), so I had to delete “aswo;4wrj” and explain about the shuddering and the convulsing and whatnot, which has completely thrown off my train of thought and just goes to show that even still I am in the throes of emotional perturbation after an afternoon spent swimsuit shopping at the mall.

Wait. What?

Oh! The swimsuit! Right. Thing is, I sometimes have these little spurts of insanity. Eh. What’cha gonna do?

Amazingly, though, I found one. A swimsuit, that is. And not just any old swimsuit, oh no, but a ONE-PIECE swimsuit! And do you know what? Do you? I loved it. LOVED it! (if someone could just head on over to my momma’s house and revive her, please, that would be so great, thanks…) I loved that swimsuit so dang much I wanted to marry it and have its bikini babies, it was that cute! With the ruffled halter neckline and the ruching at the bust and the slimming effect of the dark chocolatey material and whatnot? I was all, “Hey, there, sexy little one-piece, how YOU doin’?”

Unbelievably, I snagged the last pair of these cheeky little Roxy swim short-shorts (too easy?) that totally matched. The coup de grace? Everything was on sale! Honestly. You better believe I was all over that deal. ‘Cha. My momma didn’t raise no fool. (speaking of… seriously, just a quick peek in at my mom? someone? just let me know…)

You’re probably asking yourself what any of this swimsuit nonsense has to do with friendship, what with the absence of any sort of camaraderie thus far in my story. Perhaps you are trying to make sense of it all by gleaning my swimsuit saga for meaning, perhaps drawing parallels betwixt (yes, betwixt!) the psychological import of finding a slimming, modest swimsuit and the emotional well-being derived from a friendship with a supportive, unpretentious girlfriend. You’d be dead wrong, of course. Good lord, people. Sometimes a swimsuit (fetching though it may be) is just a swimsuit. Has Freud taught us nothing?

No, actually, my point is this: I called TGIM to tell him I found a kickass swimsuit with matching short-shorts which I subsequently snagged and bought (on sale!) for my very own.

“How much?” he asked with obvious trepidation.

Well, that was disappointing.

So I called Paige to let HER know that I found a kickass swimsuit with matching short-shorts which I subsequently snagged and bought (on sale!) for my very own.

“Sweet! Well, get yourself on over here and model it, girlfriend! Woo!”

Ah. Much better.

Better still, when I actually did go over and model my new bathing ensemble, no fault could be found in Paige’s raptures over the extraordinary cuteness of the suit or in her admiration for my ability to Shop the Sale.

(In the interest of full disclosure I got a similar, equally enthusiastic response from TGIM after I snapped a picture of myself in said bathing ensemble and sent it to his phone, but that is SO not the point.)

My point, manic though it may be presented here (I’m trying to go off the Diet Dr. Pepper, I truly am, honest), is that although my husband is my best guy, my steady rock, my lover, he is just not a GIRL. He won’t put on yoga pants and go trapezing with me on my birthday. No, sir. He doesn’t want to hear me complain about PMS, or about being bloated due to overindulgence in cheese fries, or how all my hair seems to be falling out and I wonder if it’s the product I’m using? Nor does he want to listen to me go on and on about podcasting, or how Let’s Dish! takes the stress out of dinner, or how YouTube is the devil. And he certainly doesn’t want to speculate on the possible meaning behind a look that took place between Veronica and Logan on Veronica Mars. I mean, he WILL listen, because he’s a super nice guy. But he won’t GET it. Not like a best girlfriend– a BFF– will get it.

He tries, of course. In fact, just the other day he called me at work to tell me that he heard on the radio that Lindsay Lohan had been arrested for DUI and possession of cocaine. Just because he thought I’d want to know! Aw! But did he want to discuss anything beyond the possible jail time she was looking at, such as the ridiculousness of celebrity “rehab” centers like Promises or the possible ramifications of this arrest on LiLo’s career? NO. Because he just doesn’t get it. Not like a BFF gets it. And that’s what BFFship is all about.

I realize now that my heartfelt cross-stitch (SHUT. IT.) was almost right. Happiness is being married to my best GUY friend. Oh, I know, I know…. but semantics, shmemantics! All I’m saying is I am so very lucky to have found the wonderful man I’ve chosen to spend my life with…. but I’ve come to realize how much happier, how much fuller life can be when one is also lucky enough to have found a BFF.

Personally? I’m loving the drummer.

Plus, the guy on the right? Reminds me a little of *sigh* Jensen Ackles. (Shut up! He DOES!) Which… cool? (Hey, Jensen. ‘Sup, luvah? Call me.)

Direct link to video at ifilm.com.

I don’t know whether to be flattered or genuinely insulted by this dude’s blatant rip-off of my podcast name. Honestly. One quick Google search for “Veronica Mars Rewind” and anyone can see that someone is already using it.

For real. Show a little originality, people.

Wait. Mystery? What mystery?

With “Remember” by Black Lab.

(Thanks to Paige, David Spade, and The Showbiz Show for the inspiration!)

Feel free to increase my Veronica Mars street cred at VEOH by clicking here.

Stupid shenanigans.

That’s all I have to say about that.

On the bright side, a new couple has replaced Veronica Mars and Logan Echolls in my romantical heart. Plus, they’re Canadian! I KNOW, right?! They say things like “aboat,” which I’m 99.9% sure means “about, and “soary” for “sorry.” Which… awesome?! So very Gilbert Blythe of them, you know? Plus? They have RED fifty dollar bills! I’m not even joking! And those fifties are HUGE, y’all. Like, ginormous. All big and whatnot. And the rest of the money? Totally colorful, all purple and brown and green and blue, colors which I think are infinitely more exciting than our boring old greenbacks, I tell you what. Plus… bigger.

But how did I get to talking about Canadian money? I meant to wax eloquent aboat the romantical couple, who put Veronica and Logan UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension) to SHAME. I hate to say it, but Veronica Mars missed the boat; if they had written or directed Veronica and Logan the way this couple has been written, they’d be aces right now, instead of threatened with cancellation. Yes, this couple is THAT hot. And the show is totally PG, so it’s romantic hot, not porn hot. Not that I think porn is hot. Because I don’t. Porn is the devil. Or something. Stripping, on the other hand… lucrative!

What? Who is the couple? Well, didn’t I say already?! Sheesh! Pay attention! I told you right after the part aboat the–

Oops. My bad.

Okay, I’ll just say it. Mock me if you will, but I am now completely in love with a Canadian television show called… (wait for it… wait for it…) Instant Star. There! I said it! I don’t care! Jude and Tommy are da bomb DIGGITY! Tommy? PRETTY. And Jude? She’s rocks! No, literally. She’s a rock star. And Tommy is her producer. And they luuuuuuv each other, but the timing is never right. Plus, he’s way older than her. And she’s underage. But they’re sweet. And they get involved in other romantic relationships, but it always comes back down to them. And amazingly, it WORKS. Plus? The music is very catchy. “Waste my time! Waste my tiiiime! Not so sure if I’ll be yours and baby you could be miiiiine!” How does THAT grab ya? Eh? Eh?

Come on! Who’s with me? Any Canadians out there? Besides Nilbo, who I’m pretty sure is NOT in the demographic for this show? (Soary, dude.)

Seriously. This show eases the stress and unhappiness I am experiencing right now due to SHENANIGANS, so I shall love it forever. Unless they keep Jude and Tommy apart, in which case I will cry and vow vengeance. I’m just saying.

There. Let the mocking commence.

(Stupid, STUPID shenanigans.)

Woo! Super cute.

Thanks, Mr. Michael Muhney. You are officially the coolest celebrity I know. Plus… nice penmanship! With the hearts and whatnot?

Mwah!

It’s my Interview with a Famous Actor Dude debut. No, seriously. Watch! You’ll see!

So… in this episode of Veronica Mars, we get back to the show’s gritty noir roots. Flashbacks and voice-overs, mistresses and hookers, betrayal, revenge, and murder. It’s like a game of Clue… except in this game, (SPOILER ALERT) it’s Tim the TA in the Dean’s Office with a gun.

With Remember by Black Lab and Has Been Avenue by Bryon Friedman.

Enjoy! As usual, as soon as it’s up, feel free to click over to VEOH to leave a comment. Because it makes us look POPULAR, that’s why! Plus, I’m still clinging to the dream of some VM swag.

Sheriff Lamb saw my Veronica Mars Rewind tribute! SHERIFF! LAMB! Of the NICE! BUTT! AKA: MICHAEL frakkin’ MUHNEY! And he COMMENTED! I kid you NOT!

*just breathe… breathe…*

Phew. Better now. But seriously, what a sweet guy, taking time out of his busy Famous Actor Dude day and whatnot to mingle with the common peeps.

*sigh*

What a guy.

Michael Muhney? You rock. SOLID.

This bearclaw is for you, Don!

Featuring Strange Day in Mexico by The Clintons, and Remember by Black Lab.

(Click on over to VEOH! Click! Okay? Just do it! Do it, do it, do it! Click!… Do it.)

Honestly. Just when I think I’m out, they pull me back in.

Damn it! It’s like I can’t stay away! Or something! Plus, my momma threatened to disown me if I didn’t start recapping the show, so what’cha gonna do?

*sigh*

And so it begins. Yo, yo, yo, dawgs! Bring it ON, America. Bring it ON, Simon Cowell. Bring it ON, my wee Ry-Ry who totally missed his opportunity when he didn’t pick me for the Red Carpet Challenge (your loss, Ryan Seacrest!)

BRING IT.

(I’m so ashamed.)

Featuring “Sick of Chicks” by Brother Love and “Booty Voodoo” by Lee Coulter.

(Oooh! As soon as it’s available, please do that clicky thing and give us some love over at VEOH, mm’kay?)

Even if you don’t watch Veronica Mars, watching me and Paige get a little crazy on camera (not like THAT, pervs! GOSH!) equals good times for all. Especially when Piznarski’s Dance Grooves and Stabby Unicorns are involved. So CLICK HERE. Because each time you click over, we get closer and closer to the Veronica Mars swag we’ve been eyeing. MUST. WIN. VM. SWAG. Or snickerdoodles. Whatever.

Apparently, some mysterious person is accusing me of copyright infringement. I’m all, “Who in the what now?!” So VEOH pulled my video, but there is no word as to exactly whose copyright I’m supposedly infringing upon.

Help! Help! I’m being oppressed! Do you see VEOH oppressing me?!

I mean, RUDE.

Yay! The Man is no longer holding me back, y’all. Click away!

Luckily for all y’all somebody had the time and the know-how to post the entire episode RIGHT HERE. If ever you wanted to check this show out, now’d be the perfect time.

Now if only I could get my hands on one of those “Ask me about my STD” t-shirts Veronica’s pal Mac wore to the Pi Sig mega apocalypse– a veritable hump the furniture, party back to the stone age, fifty keg Bacchanalia– I’d be in bidness…

(Screencap by Neptunesite.com)

(Feel free to vote for me HERE. Signing up at VEOH is super easy, so head on over. Even just clicking the link will help me (us) out. Honestly. You don’t even have to watch Veronica Mars… this recap gives you all the information you need. Not that you shouldn’t watch Veronica Mars. You totally should. It’s a frakkin’ good show. I’m just saying.)

Veronica, after being accused by a classmate of plagiarizing a class paper she wrote, makes friends and influences people. Keith bangs the hot, married chick! Professor Landry bangs the hot married chick! And back on campus, Evil Wallace and Good Wallace face-off: which will it be? Academics or athletics? Oh, and Claire’s a big faker and Parker thinks Piz is cuuuuuute.

(TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES: As soon as I can get the video uploaded, I will post the link so you can head over to VEOH to vote for the DWM recap! Only if you wanna, of course… but you totally want to, right? The swag? It will be mine. Oh, yes. It will be mine.)

Oooooh. I sure hope they give me some of that “official Veronica Mars swag” they’re bragging about. I’ve always wanted some swag. Well, I’m not really sure what that even means, but it sounds totally COOL. So there’s that.

Okay, truthfully? As far as I can tell, I’m the only person who submitted a recap video this past week, but still! Exciting.

The first in a weekly series (for VEOH) of Weekend Update-style recaps of my favoritest show Veronica Mars. See?! Now you don’t even need to watch the show! Not that you shouldn’t! You totally should. I’m just saying.

Enjoy! Or mock. Whatev.

I, Cat the Desperate Working Momma, have decided to take up the proverbial gauntlet thrown down by Veoh and the CW (read all about it here) and will be creating my own Weekend Update-style recap of each episode of Veronica Mars. I know, right?! Booyah! The only rule? I can’t use images or clips from the show. Well, snap. But whatever. There are prizes involved! PRIZES! Free stuff that I can win! For free! Yeppers. Major Awards. Official Veronica Mars swag, if you will. 

Oh, it is SO on.

So if you watch the show, feel free to email me with any wicked funny observations or ideas, and I– utilizing my mad podcasting skillz– will run frakking crazy with them!

Deal?

Hoo! Good golly, Miss Molly! This is going to be fun…

(And just so you know, I have NO idea what’s up with my age. Very strange. It’s a total mystery, I am not even kidding.)

Cat’s MySpace page

Guys? I’m making friends.

Veronica Mars is MY friend! Nanny nanny boo boo! YEAH! Hoo!

Okay, so… now what do I do?

Damn. I don’t think the CW thought this through.

Eh.

Yeah, so I’m a little jazzed. Whatever. If ain’t right to be jazzed about a sneak preview of the (kickass) season 3 premiere of Veronica Mars, then baby… I don’t want to be right! Well, okay, most of the time I DO actually want to be right, but not this time. That’s all I’m saying. In this one particular case I don’t mind if I’m wrong. But just so we’re clear, I’m usually ALWAYS right. No, really. Ask TGIM. He’ll tell you. Right, right, right! That’s me! Just right all over the place! Yeppers.

Anyhoos, just thought I’d share. You know, about the (kickass) season 3 premiere of Veronica Mars? Now shoo, y’all. What in the heck are you waiting for? GOSH!