Category Archives: In the Meantime

Wu-Tang Interns Ain’t Nuthin ta F**k With

NME reports an amazing internship opportunity open via twitter.  Turns out Ghostface Killah needs an intern.

Could be fun… we already know The RZA is the Leslie Nope of the rap genre, which could make Ghostface Ron Swanson (fact check.)

Make the applications rain!

A Brief PSA About MTV’s Skins

Deep in the underbelly of The Boomerang Blog there is an unpublished draft of a post entitled, “In the Meantime… I Get Wrapped Up in Shows That Break My Heart.”  This draft was last saved in March of 2010, as I literally shook and cried my way through my digestion of the Skins season 4 finale.  Was I being melodramatic, you ask?  I’m counting on Skins watchers to back me up on this one, but the answer is probably not.

Let me explain.  There is this show called Skins.  It’s about to debut on MTV, but it’s been on British TV for about four years now.  The original show used to star that kid you loved from About a Boy and that other one from Slumdog Millionaire that became famous after. And I am a reluctant fan.

How Could You, Nick Hoult???

Skins is a show that is, on the one hand, extremely alluring.  It features amazing and well-written characters played by attractive, age-appropriate actors with great fashion sense.  You will see yourself in more than one of these characters, and you will like it.  On the other hand, this show is masochism personified.  It will take your most favorite character and it will put him in painful, dangerous, and life-threatening situations.  And you will not be able to stop watching.  It will shoot him full of pills and self-doubt, and ruin his family and his love life… at least if he’s lucky.  The less fortunate characters will actually ***SPOILER ALERT BUT SERIOUSLY DON’T START WATCHING SKINS*** get slashed up by deceptive, borderline-pedophile megalomaniacs, get hit by buses, get brain tumors, slit their wrists… I mean are you getting what I’m saying here, because I feel like you must know where this is going by now.  Towards the beginning of Skins season 1, my sister and her friend actually set up a small facebook group (christ, remember when that wasn’t a dated term?) so that we could have support meetings after episodes appeared on YouTube; a sort of a Skins fans anonymous, if you will.  It is the type of show that necessitates such therapy.

A new British season is supposedly debuting soon.  And will I be watching it?  Most likely.  And am I ashamed?  Yes.  But as long as the show continues to be written so excellently, it will remain addictive and I won’t be able to stop myself.  I am secure with this decision.

But now I see this bullshit on my television, and you have probably seen it on yours:

American.  Fucking.  Skins.  On MTV.  Eww.

I had read last year that this was going to happen. But now it’s here, and the freaking New York Times is saying how this is a show for the millennial demographic. And since those are my people, shit is getting real. The threat is imminent.  So I’d just like to take this opportunity to say: try not to watch Skins.  Even though you’ll want to.  And if you have to watch Skins, you probably shouldn’t watch American Skins.

Hugs Not Drugs

Will I, personally, be watching American Skins?  I will be tempted to.  But no, I
don’t think so. Why not?  Well, there’s the fact that pretty much everything essential to British Skins can’t legally be shown on MTV.  This is a series that makes Gossip Girl seem tame.  (Is that a topical comparison?  I think so but I don’t watch Gossip Girl.)  And then there’s the fact that this show is a total rip off of the original Skins (see this brilliant person’s trailer mashup for verification!)  Yes, I watch such American rips as The Office, and I love them, so saying such a thing might make me a hypocrite, but I really can’t let this one fly.  It’s going to be absurd.

So I’ve probably wasted too much time on this, and I also could be wrong.  But just err on the side of caution.  And to my fellow fans: stay strong.  I’m here for you.

In The Meantime… I Skate with the Stars

Last night I was getting ready to write a news roundup post about unemployment, the state of the world, and the bleakness of the future.  If you really want to know what I was gonna put in there you can check out those links, but let me just warn you that seeing everything together made me cry.

So instead I avoided reality by turning to St. Hulu, the patron saint of  procrastination and royalty free entertainment.  Lately I’ve been bored of my usual things (you can only watch season 2 of Arrested Development so many times before it starts getting stale), so I’ve just been letting Hulu recommend me whatever shows I haven’t seen yet.  You know what I found this time?  Skating with the Stars.

Has anyone seen this show?  It is fucking amazing!  Not in the sense that it is actually good, but more in the sense that it is the one and only show currently on television where you get the sense that the producers are sort of hoping for someone to die live on the air.

Skating with the Stars is one of those Dancing with the Stars-style shows where “celebrities” take time out of their “busy schedules” to be pushed around the ice by actual skating professionals.  Now, I’ve never seen a full episode of Dancing with the Stars, but I’d say the main difference between the dancing show and the skating show is not the ice skates and the sequined costumes, but rather the overarching suspense generated from the knowledge that someone could totally crack their head open at any minute.  I’m not saying that those ABC execs wanted or intended for that sense of impending doom to be the main draw of the show, nor would they want to play it up, I’m just saying that by the fourth episode, they’ve required each contestant to do an incredibly difficult move lovingly called a “death spiral” even though they’ve only been skating for a month, the presenters’ banter has become lines like, “Hope you brought your caution tape, because this is going to be a hazardous night! *smile and wink*” (actual quote), and zambi the emergency zamboni has become the show’s mascot (no, that’s not it’s real name, yes, it is a real thing.)

Also laughable is ABC’s expectation that any given person would know/care who the hell these people are.  Let’s be honest here, the fact that the contestant with the main draw is “reality superstar Bethenny Frankel” is not a good sign.  It is kind of hilarious though.  Not only that, but Bethenny clearly does not give a fuck what the judges have to say about her routines, since she is guaranteed votes simply because she is literally the only person anyone watching the show has heard of.  And you know what?  The judges know it too.  Middle judge Johnny Weir (hahaha I typed Johnny Weird by accident — jk Johnny, you’re fabulous) is so over it.  Sadly, after this, Johnny will only be left with stacks of gold metals to preserve his integrity.  Left judge Laurie Ann Gibson has been surprisingly nice considering all I know about her is that she used to scream at Making the Band contestants (have you heard? Diddy’s back, y’all!)  Right judge Dick Button is too busy staring at Rebecca Budig’s ass to say anything intelligible.  At the end of the day, everyone’s had a lovely time, and are too busy being wowed by an homage to Daft Punk to realize they’ve just wasted an hour of their lives.  You’re welcome, America!

Mind Games, Starring Facebook

Today when thefacebook.com told me I had a pending application request I literally asked myself why someone would want to solicit my resume via facebook.

How depressing is that?

Yikes.

In the Meantime: I am Amused by Local Police Reports

Alternate title: Why I Was Never Destined to Live a Life of Hardened Crime

Posted by Jessica

The following is an actual paragraph from my town’s police report.

“A Catherine Road man reported seeing large eggs under a Catherine road tree September 3.  Police determined the objects were mushrooms approximately 12 inches wide.”

I swear, this is going to be a weekly feature — there’s always something.

Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry

Posted by Jessica

I’m still here! To quote a classic family film, “Let me ‘splain. No, that’s too long. Let me sum up.”

I was disheartened, then I was lazy. Then I was abroad, and now I have a job.

Boomeranging daily (ie: commuting) has definitely affected my writing, as I am often exhausted by the time I get home. But yes, I hope to be at least a little more present now.

Here’s an amazing link that has nothing to do with anything to make up for it a little.

Also, wanted to say again that this site is really meant to be interactive, so if you have any comments/ suggestions (besides where the eff have you been for like 2 months) please do send them along.

k, c ya.

5 Inspirational Vids That Just Went Viral

Posted by Jessica

Haters gonna hate:  Videogum compiles 5 and a half minutes of YouTubers defending their honors (and nominating the word “hater” for retirement from my personal vocabulary.)

Six bucks towards GoogleAds = a job:  The greatest self promotion you wish you thought of first.

I like her pijamas, too:  A little girl sings all the confidence you wish you had.  Because my name is also Jessica, I am now obligated to do this everyday.  I suggest you do the same.

That’s the anthem, get your damn hands up:  Brazilian soccer players provide the eye candy for another take on Beyoncé’s Single Ladies.

In a turtleneck, no less:  This chihuahua can smile.  Freaking smile!

In the Meantime… I Have Awkward Hometown Encounters

Posted by Jessica

Well, it’s finally happened, you guys.  I got a facebook invitation to my five-year high school reunion.  My heart pretty much stopped when I saw it, then I checked the date.  Looks like I will legitimately be out of the country that week to avoid my high school reunion attend a family wedding.

But honestly, it’s not like I’ve been completely out of touch.  Since I live at home, I’ve had to band together with the few friends I have here.  Also I’ve learned how to avoid eye contact with people I clearly recognize, but have no interest in acknowledging since I never really liked them anyway.  In that way, it’s kind of like being in high school again.

But these encounters seem to happen a lot.  Sometimes they are welcome, like how, on a train into the city a few months ago, I reconnected with a really close friend from middle school that I hadn’t seen in about 6 years.  Sometimes they suck, like last week when I was already having a shitty day, and then had to walk past my arch nemesis from elementary school on my way to the station.

To minimize the awkwardness of these situations, my friends and I seem to have found solace in being able to vent to each other about our sightings.  I mean, who else would understand a statement like, “Can you believe I saw ____ in the village today?  Omg, he got super hipster,” but a high school friend.

I think the best example possible could be this email chain I had with 3 other friends recently when, while studying at our town library, one of them spotted a fellow alum boning up for some sort of grad school entrance exam.  This friend’s studying quickly turned to “studying” as she sent out periodic spy updates.

Here is our brief email chain, for you enjoyment, with all sensitive information blacked out Soviet-style. Click on it if you wanna zoom in.

We’re Famous

Guess which blog is the tenth suggestion when you google “william h macy boomerangs”???

First page, bitches!

Now that we’ve reached this major milestone, we’d like some feedback.  What would you like to see more or less of?  Do you have story ideas?  Do you like us?  Please let us know.

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EDITOR’S UPDATE: Thank you to everyone contributing to this discussion (and a preemptive thank you to those who will in the future!)  We’ll definitely be incorporating some of these ideas to the blog.

In the Meantime… I Master Office Skills

Posted by Jessica

Okay, okay, so I don’t always love my temp job.  But at least it gives me the opportunity to fight and conquer mini battles every day.  Today my life was made immeasurably easier when a fellow employee kindly took the time to show me how to do mail merge.

For about twenty minutes, I was in a state of achievement-induced bliss.

I got ready to write an empowering post, I blinked, and then before I knew it I got 5 new simultaneous assignments.  I was faxing a novel, my hand was bleeding, I was up to my ears in papers and ziplock bags, and the phone was ringing off the hook.

Like I said, small battles.

But anway, since it shouldn’t go to waste, here is my lovey haiku to mail merge:

Mail merge, I love you.
Turning spreadsheets into tags,
you save me such time.