Pamela Ribon is an author, screenwriter, actor, and Wonder Killer. This is her diary. Sort of.

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Daniel J. Blau writes musicals, recaps for TWoP, and travels back and forth between New York and LA because he's just that cosmopolitan.

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Friday, September 05, 2003

Also..

I now wonder if I have the wrong "Daniel" on my Friendster.

# posted by pamie : 4:22 PM

Friendster's just a Red Herring

True: last night I watched Clue. Also true: I had to go out and rent it. My copy apparently lives at my mother's house.

I got some mail regarding today's boob-heavy entry (heh), from a girl claiming to be named "Kansas." So, I guess strippers read my site, too. Yay, strippers! I love your boobs.

I have a suggestion for Alex. As a small breasted women- it rarely happens that a man checks out my rack- however I do still notice when they do. (One thing we can agree men are not is subtle!) But unlike well-endowed girls who are annyoed that the guy has no clue what color their eyes are- my girls are starved for some eye affection. So if you want to practice your technique- lavish you skills on a small breasted women- give her a little rush the likes of which she doesn't see too often. I love it when a guy checks me out (well to be honest he is getting more Victoria and less me but you get the point.) So enjoy honing your techniques on the flat chested and then see if you skills can make it to the next level!

And just so you know, Alex wrote with only this to say when I told him about today's entry: "Precious, precious breast essays..."

It's that kind of dirty Friday, y'all.

# posted by pamie : 4:21 PM

And now, A Very Special Friendster Dating Story.

The blog works.

A large group of friends made up of a typical sampling of the overall New York demographic (eight Vassar graduates and one very smart older brother) were sitting outside at a Park Slope bar during the height of the Friendster craze (fifteen minutes and .01 seconds ago, as the clichéd, Warholian math works out), and I outlined what I thought the problem with the site was, which I will quote here in its entirety. Sidebar: when you put yourself in quotes, you LOVE yourself. But anyway:

"We can dance around it all we want and say that we're on it just to run user searches on other people who can also quote Clue in its entirety -- which is also everyone I ALREADY KNOW -- but the true intent of that site is for one purpose and one purpose alone: to get me laid. And hi. It's not working. Because unlike specifically-purposed online dating sites, this one hides behind a layer of bizarre social propriety, as if to say, 'A long-term relationship would be fine and all, but it's just not as fulfilling as getting a witty testimonial from a co-worker. By the way, don't I look sexy and mysterious in this picture of me taken five years ago?' Screw that noise. It's a dating service and I intend to use it as such."

So I customized my gallery to find someone who looked, acted, and quoted Clue just as I did, and found a candidate who lived six blocks away. His name was Daniel. Our date was weird and he never called. So, Daniel? If you're out there? And you've learned how to read? I want my good name back. And I've never meant that with such damning literalness.

I'm pulling the plug on the count of 3. And I can count backwards with alarming speed.

# posted by Daniel : 12:58 PM

Can We Still Be Friendsters?

I'm thinking I'm going to have to lose SiteMeter in order to make the blog work. That's frustrating.

Dan and I are thinking about breaking up with Friendster. Why? Because it does nothing. It means nothing. It reminds me of Ben Kingsley with his suitcase of chess certificates, floating them all over the room. "You want the Friendster? Here. Here's fifty friends. Here's sixty friends. Your network is 679,002,044 people. It means nothing. They mean nothing."

When Heather Chandler, Anne Heche and a cat are a part of your Friendster, when you're "Just Here To Help" but there's nothing or nobody to help, when you're upset that one of your friends wrote a better testimonial for another one of your friends, when you're actually hurting your synapses trying to remember who someone asking to be your friend is, then it's time to move on.

Friendster is the Internet's slam book. Dan, I say we dump that shit.

# posted by pamie : 12:33 PM

apology, double-post style

And, most importantly, I always include a title line on a new post. ALWAYS.

# posted by Daniel : 12:22 PM

I'm Dan. I write for TWoP. I do pro-bono work for the most basic of cable. I'm about to be a famous librettist at a site I had planned on opportunistically linking below, only to note that Pam had done so in my stead on the right. Instead, here's something even more personal, and filled with pretty, pretty pictures.

Oh, and I also have a weirdly elaborate Friendster profile, but I'm thinking of taking myself off of that site as it often makes me feel weirdly bad about myself. Explain this?

And, for what it's worth, I too have been dancing the Maximize/Minimize Tango in order to read the blog.

Damn. Couldn't take out the Pam from the description of Dan. Where does Pam end and I begin?

# posted by Daniel : 12:20 PM

HTM-WHAAAAT? CGI-WHOOOOO?

Accoring to Robyn, those of you having problems seeing the blog might try minimizing and then maximizing the window. I don't want you to have to do that because that's stupid, so I'm working on it. But as we used to say in the tech world, there's your current "workaround."

# posted by pamie : 11:55 AM

Scopin' the View

New journal entry. I talk about boobs even more than usual. I'm seven.

# posted by pamie : 11:48 AM

Meet Dan

I decided my blog needed a sidekick. Actually, I'm not sure who decided. It may have been Dan's brilliant plan. Huh. Welcome to the world's longest continuing conversation.

Regardless, welcome Dan. Post often. Perhaps you should give some kind of introduction that's less pamie-centric so people know more about you.

In other news: some of you still can't see the blog, which is frustrating, which may be due to SiteMeter, which is also frustrating.

In other, other news, I finished the draft of Unfinished Script From Hell. I celebrate today by proofing the sixth draft of Contest Script Close To My Heart, and working on Television Pilot That I'll Never Sell But I'll Try Because That's What I'm Supposed To Do.

And maybe I should update the journal, because the only people who have found the blog so far are the ones who enter through the index page or who read Damn Hell Ass Kings.

Uh, yeah, I just wrote out my to-do list on my blog. What's it to you?

I'm sorry the last journal entry made so many of you think that I was recently married. It's "Recently Married People Like Me." Not "Recently Married People Like Me."

I promise to tell you if I ever get married.

# posted by pamie : 9:33 AM

hacker with a password

Look at me! I'm famous on the Pamie Internet Show!

I told Pamie that the sole purpose of her website was, from this point forward, to finally illustrate to the masses the difference between a journal and a blog. It is her public service. It is her Peace Corps assignment. As a reward for clarifying Squishy 3.0's mission statement, I was rewarded with a blog password. You have no idea how much it rocks. Look at me! Me me me me me! Once more, I'm famous in that way where I'm totally famous except for the part where anyone knows who I am. But still, this is a step up. If she's Pamie and we're not, I'm at least Pamie Lite to her Pamie Ultras. Mmmmm...cigarettes.

To that end, I promise that I won't use my posting privileges to tell you mundane stories about MY life, as that's not why you've come here. This isn't about me. I'm here to support Pamie. I'm the Andy to her Conan. The non-piano-playing-Paul to her Dave. The all-of-O-Town to her Diane Warren.

Oh, and this morning I spilled a leaky cup of coffee all over myself. But that's a story for another day.

# posted by Daniel : 7:32 AM

archives

if (location.href.indexOf("archive")!=-1) document.write("<br><strong><a href=\"http://www.pamie.com/\">Current Posts</a></strong></br>");