Aside from the fact that I lost my digital camera and my webcam due to a tragic drunken bathtub incident the other night, I’m in good spirits, especially taking into consideration the fact that someone ATE MY LONG LOST SECOND COUSIN THREE TIMES REMOVED! (;_;) She was such a beautiful person on the inside (I’m sure someone can attest to that now since SOMEONE ATE HER. Gee, THANKS! At least I don’t eat MY friends!…well, not all the time. But that’s not the point! In fact, I’m not even sure if this parenthetical thingy has a point! I just like using exclamation points to demonstrate my anger!)
It’s also now up to me to find a new male lead for the next show I’ll be working on in NY. Y’know, it’s not like we don’t have a casting director. Well, we did. Brian Davis. But he was an ornery soul who disappeared several months ago. He was kind of nuts. Guy thought he could move things with his mind. Ah ha ha ha. Yeah, crazy. I think he just pulled a Hank. He’s probably out there somewhere, carousing around in Las Vegas, making it big! That being said, it fell down to me to be the new casting director. I have no experience with this. There’s a reason why I work in the little light booth up on the catwalk — I don’t like people. Why? Because people suck, friends, and the sooner you learn that, the better. They’re almost as bad as pigeons, but at least pigeons fly away when you scare them.
So we’re a few months away from opening, and I need to find a glorious male lead for our new show, Sweeney Todd. But I’m really having trouble figuring out who could play the role. It involves a lot of cutting people’s heads (he is a barber, after all) and brains and gore to a certain extent. No, that’s not Sweeney Todd in the picture, though I’m sure he’d look killer in a dress and a corset mashing up brains if he wanted to! But who could possibly fill that role? I hope I won’t have to fly out to Montana or somewhere else in BFE to find the ideal person for it. Hmmm. I’ll really have to think about this! Maybe I should do an open casting call. Or maybe fate will lead me to our next lead! I really don’t know. Fate has a horrible tendency to lead me to the bottom of a mai-tai or a gin and tonic before it leads me anywhere else.
I had a real nice conversation with my mom and grandma a few days ago. Sometimes I think grandma’s going a little nuts. This all happened before I discovered that someone decided that my long lost cousin’s brain would make a tasty meal (you know who you are Sylar Zane NO DRESS FOR YOU!) Apparently Dale was a mail order bride from Vladivostok that Mohinder had ordered some months ago when he got signed up for some weird fan club. Anyways, Dale got a little disoriented by all the noises in NY and moved to Montana where it’s a bit quieter. But then as destiny would have it, I discovered that we were related! I don’t know how, but I felt this connection. Maybe it was because our last names were so very similar. Smither…Smith — see? We’re like totally related! I was really looking forward to being reunited with her, even though she was a complete stranger and probably didn’t know I even existed. But I get my hopes up like that.
I think Dale realized that they were after her! She had to move where they wouldn’t find her! So to outsmart them, she moved to Montana since no one lives there, and here’s proof:
See? Conclusive proof that they would have no idea that she lived in Montana. Word to the wise, if you don’t want them to find you, move to Montana and become an automechanic! Just be sure to keep your head. I wonder if they know that I’m in NY secretly plotting under their noses! They are very silly indeed! (And I really have no idea who they are. I just like to italicize my pronouns since it makes them look mysterious and ominous.)
Now I’m just waiting for Mohinder and someone to come back to NY since someone owes me a drinking contest. I got your drinks right here, man. That’s nearly forty pounds of vodka right there! Direct from Russia! Good ol’ Russkii Standart — you know, the kind of vodka that’ll put hair on your girly-man chest! 150 proof! Let’s see your wine coolers beat that! I was drinking in the womb! I have 28 years of experience doing this, and a liver the size of, dare I say, MONTANA.
40 liquid pounds of stolen vodka right here! Don’t make me drink this all on my own!
So come one, come all, and place your bets! Who will win this trial of inebriated fortitude?! I’ll even sell tickets.
~Lana
PS: Someone better help me pay for all that vodka I had to loot or I’ll sic the kittens of doom and destruction on them… They’ll be in ur fridge, eatin ur brainz!