Baton Rouge--Finally!! (As in, "We finally got there!!". Also, "We finally blogged about it!"

Yes, it's true--Andee and I did make it to Baton Rouge.

I put red sticks over our eyes because BR means "red stick." Also because I'm at work and can't photoshop the forks over our faces. Sigh. Anonymity is hard sometimes.

It's also true that while there, I met Robert Pattinson and he fell madly in love with me and we ran away together to the South of France. As I type, I am staring out the window of our palatial love nest at the beautiful...umm.... southness of....well, France.

Ok, that's not true. I would totally not be on the computer if I was sharing a palatial love pad with Robert Pattinson. Not unless we were, you know, on the computer.

But we did go to the Red Stick. And it was the farthest west I've ever gone. Seriously, y'all, I had never even been into Mississippi, although I did have to spend a whole week learning to spell it in 3rd grade. The trip started out with me and Andee talking non-stop over some rockin' Christmas tunes, which normally makes our trips just fly by. Not this time. After 40 bazillion hours on the road, we stopped for lunch. Another 5000 googillion hours later, we were in Mississippi, where we waited, at a complete standstill, for what later looked like absolutely nothing at all.

Traffic jam. Totally standing still on the interstate. Could have gotten out and danced naked on that semi flatbed. But we didn't...

Finally, FINALLY, we rolled into Louisiana. And we got off that miserable little stretch of road called I-10, only to be told by that little punk Garmin that we still had 85 more miles to go to Baton Rouge. We went ballistic and literally had to pull over and check another map. That pit stop went a lil' something like this:

There was no effing way it was another 85 miles!!!! 30 miles, tops. It was only like *holds fingers close together* this far away on the map! For real, I cannot ride in this car for another 85 miles. I will scream and tear off your rearview mirror. There's got to be somethign wrong with your Garmin. It's defective. Or deluded. Whatever, it's just wrong. Seriously, it cannot possib---holy shit, it IS another 85 miles.

What choice did we have but to drive on? It helped to see that Robert was only just a little bit further down the road--

To be continued...

Packing for Baton Rouge: Underwear? Check. Socks? Check. Milk? Check.

Some of our Twitter followers may remember certain tweets made by Grey in September of this year that went a little something like this (read from bottom):

Yes, it's true--I set my nose on fire.

The fiance and I were spending the weekend at Andee and her husband's house to watch football games and drink beer and suck at ladderball and then do old cheerleader dances in the driveway. Everything had been going so well, untill Andee in her bid for domestic goddess-ity roped me into making cream cheese-stuffed jalepenos wrapped in bacon. They sounded delicious, actually, but I like to go places--I think they call them "restaurants"--and have food brought to me, magically hot and ready to eat. But I'm a good friend, and so I said I'd help. Big mistake. HUGE mistake.

Big, huge, BURNING mistake.

I cut the jalapenos in half and scooped out their little insides. After I put the last hollowed-out little jalepeno corpse into the bowl, I KNEW that I needed to wash my hands. I don't know how I knew to wash my hands--I've never handled any peppers other than bell peppers and so I can only say that God led me to wash my hands because even though what happened next was awful, what could have happened had I not washed my hands would have been so much worse.

Because after I washed my hands, I scratched my nose. And caught my nose on fire.

I mean, ON FIRE. It was BURNING. I started panicking. As I panicked, my nose got hotter. I went to the bathroom to rinse my nose off.

The burning only intensified.

I ran to Andee's computer and Googled "jalepeno nose burn" and found out why--apparently water reactivates the chemical in peppers that makes them burn. Fan-f*cking-tastic. The only solution was milk. Did Andee have any milk in the fridge? Sure she did.

But it was sour.

Sour milk. Up my nose. I would have thrown up in my mouth at just the thought of it if my nose hadn't been as red as Rudolph's and did I mention ON FIRE?

So Andee ran to her neighbor's house and returned with a red Dixie cup of milk. Which my face did not fit into. I almost started crying, I was so frustrated and oh yeah, MY NOSE WAS ON FIRE. So we poured the milk in a bowl and just slammed my entire face in there. Sweet, sweet relief.

Which is why I'm packing milk when we go to Baton Rouge this weekend. Because Robert Pattinson is definitely hotter than a jalepeno. And I'm not going to be caught unprepared ever again.

Grey

More Do's and Don'ts for Meeting Twilight Stars

Today we have another help tip on How to Successfully Engage Robert Pattinson. (We think about him alot, so he gets the most tips.) Today's tip focuses on Rob's love of overpriced vintage (ie, used) band t-shirts.

Step One: Approach Rob. Slowly. Don't scare him off.

Step Two: Tell Rob how awesome his band shirt is. Bonus points for knowing some of the band's songs. EXTRA SPECIAL SUPER bonus points for actually going to the concert where the shirts were sold orginally AND owning the same t-shirt and wearing it until there were giant holes in both the armpits and was so thin that you could count all your back moles but you didn't care because you thought it was the most awesome shirt on the face of the planet but one day signifcant other threw it out even though she says she never touched it and you must have lost it somewhere but you totally know it was her. Bitch.

You can probably leave most of that out, actually. Just tell him you had the same shirt.

Step Three: Prove that you love music too by showing him your band t-shirt.

If you're band t-shirt is as cool as Rob's, congratulations! You have successfully engaged Robert Pattinson. He may ask to touch you, because you are so awesome.

If you're "band" t-shirt is actually from that Britney Spears concert you went to (twice!), that's probably not as cool to Rob as it is to you, even if you do know all the lyrics to "If U Seek Amy" which is a really awesome song that basically lets you walk around singing "F*ck me, f*ck me" and get away with it. Rob will probably not want to touch you.

Unless:

Then you're good. Let the touching begin.

Do's and Don'ts of Meeting Twilight Stars Part 2

The second edtion of How to Successfully Engage (and Not Set On Fire) Twilight Stars focuses on Dr. Carlisle Cullen himself, Peter Facinelli. Now, Peter is well known for being very open and easy to approach by fans--I think he actually likes us or something. So getting a wave out of Peter really isn't too difficult.
Step One--Approach Peter. If you see that Peter isn't on the phone, eating with friends, actually filming or fighting off a newborn vampire attack (that last one is super important, folks), walk up to him calmly and politely tell him how awesome he is. He will more than likely be friendly, unless you have a) disturbed him in some unforgivable manner (like interrupt his grudging participation in the aforementioned vampire war) or b) have some kind of crazy stalker/potential homicidal maniac look in your eyes (we are not held responsible for your crazy eyes, you have to learn to control them yourself).  Barring these things, you can continue telling him how awesome he is, and maybe you will get a picture. Weep with joy and you'll probably get a hug. Based on personal experience, Peter hugs are awesome.

Some other useful information:

DO NOT APPROACH PETER WHILE SCREAMING THE FIRST THING ANDEE SAYS ANYTIME SOMEONE MENTIONS PETER---"I LOVE ME SOME PETER!" He will think you are a perv. Or a huge weirdo. Probably both, actually. Yelling at the top of your voice a phrase that is equivilant to "I love me some penis!" will probably guarantee Peter's fleeing the scene. However, if you must use this phrase, make sure you attach his last name, Facinelli. I predict I will have to work hard to help Andee control her love of Peter.

Another potential embarrassment? Misprouncing Mr. Facinelli's name. After countless minutes of internet research, I can now share with you the correct way to say his name. Maybe.

A Visual Diagram of How to Pronounce Peter Facinelli's Name

Fatch-

OR

Fash-

-in-

-elli

Ok, so that's TWO ways to say his name. Oh, well. Maybe if you say it really fast--"Hey, PeterFacinelliIthinkyou'rereallyawesome!"--he won't notice that you mispronounced it.

But that's probably when he'll notice your crazy eyes.

Andee and Grey



UPDATED: Audio added. Beware--this is my "I know I'm being recorded" voice. Also fuzzy at the beginning. Steven Spielburg I am not.

Do's and Don'ts of Meeting Twilight Stars

Well, it's officially upon us. The day we've been waiting for. That's right--the McRib is coming back.

No seriously, it's coming back. November 2nd. Watch for it.

But the other day we were waiting for was the day the Twilight cast arrived in Baton Rouge. They did, last Friday. They are there. And some day soon, we will be, too. Not because we're crazy stalkers who really need to ruin Robsten's day. We just want to be there, to be a part of the magic that is Twilight. Hell, we infrequently update write a blog about it--we'd be crazy not to take the opportunity to head over to Baton Rouge for a nice weekend and share our zany experiences with you guys.

But just in case we--or anyone else visiting Baton Rouge--happen to actually *gasp* meet any of the Twilight stars, this week we'd like to offer some helpful little hints on the proper behavior when engaging the elusive Twilightis Amazingus.

How to Successfully Engage Twilight Stars

Robert Pattinson--The Smokin' Hot Approach

The best way to meet Robert Pattinson is to engage him while he is smoking, probably outside a club or bar. Are you a smoker? Excellent! (Bet you haven't heard that since 1960.) Not a smoker? Well, you are now. The crux of this plan depends on Robert Pattinson being lighterless, so...

Step One: Steal Robert Pattinson's lighter. You will require a friend to help out with this one, because the friend will actually need to flash Rob her boobs so that while he's distracted, you can sneak over to the table/ledge/curb where his lighter rests and take it.

Step Two: Offer to light Rob's cigarette. This is enable you to engage him in conversation and also obtain close physical proximity to The Precious. Walk up to him, light the lighter and hold it up to his cigarette. Try not to use the lighter you just stole from him. If you are a smoker, this step should be simple, and conversation will likely begin. Congratulations! If you are not a smoker, please pay careful attention to the next step.

Step Three: DO NOT SET ROBERT PATTINSON ON FIRE.

Step Four: If you do set Robert Pattinson on fire, put him out. However, DO NOT PUT ROBERT PATTINSON OUT WITH THE GLASS OF GIN YOU WERE DRINKING TO MAKE YOURSELF LESS NERVOUS ABOUT NOT SETTING ROBERT PATTINSON ON FIRE.

Step Five: If you set Robert Pattinson on fire, tried to put him out with gin and made it worse, GET WATER. Douse Robert Pattinson with water. Then run, because Kristen Stewart is totally going to beat you up.

The ideal scenario only uses Steps One and Two. Obviously.

Andee and Grey


Next up: Peter Facinelli--The Don't Forget To Say His Last Name Approach!!

Some Important News About the Breaking Dawn Roadtrip--we will NOT be ordering the "I Banged A Vampire Down in Baton Rouge" tshirts after all.

Twitter told us today that Nikki Reed has announced that she will be down in Louisiana in a little over a week. A week!! That's like...in no time! We are in super-fast-needed-it-finalized-yesterday planning mode, getting ready for our trip to Baton Rouge, where we swear we won't stalk these people like hungry lionesses, on the prowl for some fresh meat. Instead, we only hope to catch a glimpse of the magicness that is movie-making. But since most of the actual movie-making is probably going to be done on a soundstage, the magicness we're referring to is the magicness of Robsten walking around Baton Rouge like they are just plain ol' regular folks. And maybe seeing Peter *Andee: OOOOhhhhh I love me some Peter! P.S. Grey LOVES when I say that!* and Kellen and Ashley and Nikki and Taylor and everyone else involved. But mostly Robsten.

But even with all the preparation and the checking and double-checking of the lists, we've had a little change of plans. See, usually Andee and I are a two person tag team of epic awesomeness when it comes to our little "Girl Power" trips--especially the Twilight related ones. We have more fun together than any two people in the history of forever. We're like Thelma and Lousie, except without driving off a cliff. But if I had a nickel for every time we did the T & L hand-hold while heading into downtown Atlanta...well, I'd have 6 nickels. Sweet, that's almost a Coca-Cola at my office...what were we talking about? Oh yeah, me and Andee.

We renewed our sacred vows this morning over GTalk to never, ever, for any reason make a Twilight trip without both of us together. Like sisters, because that's what we really are, even if we don't technically have the same mother or aren't even slightly related. We're sisters in that "this is ME in another person's body" kind of way. Which actually sounds kind of weird. It's not weird though, I promise. It's just us, and I can't explain it, but it's totally there.

So the change of plans is this: It's not just the two of us roadtripping this time--it's three.

Yep, Andee's going to be bringing along a baby. Thankfully, it's the type of baby that is actually still inside her stomach. *Andee: It is currently the size of a seasme seed if you didn't know that, Grey, I have just informed you :) ...Which Grey thinks pregnancy is totally gross if you haven't figured that out by her blog posts from the past*  I would be so embarrassed if one of the outside ones threw up all over Robert Pattinson.

At least the inside baby won't have to stop every ten minutes for a potty break or demand to be taken to every Krystal we pass...oh wait, that will be Andee. Crap.

Love,

Aunt Grey

That's right boys and girls I am "with Child" haha! I'm pretty positive it is not a half human/half vampire baby named Renesmee so no worries on that front but if you've noticed they officially announced that little Makenzie as Nessie and now that I'm pregnant and will have the baby before we go see Breaking Dawn Part 1, I'll probably be able to coach Bella through some of her insane labor for instance, "Yes, Yes, that's the placenta, you need to get the baby out of the placenta, that's right, Edward, use your teeth, my doctors had actual surgical tools, but hey, you go with what you got"! This sure will be an exciting movie experience with me this time Grey I'm gonna gross you out big time!**Andee

Thank you, Twilight Quiz. Best. Day. EVER.

Remember that Twilight quiz I posted about earlier? The one for the magazine I write for? The one that  validated my Twilight obsession by being accepted by a legitmate media source while simultaneously scaring the crap out of me because I don't want my grandmother to see this blog?

Well, I wrote it and turned it in today. I hope that it is go...HOLY BALLS I FORGOT TO TELL HIM NOT TO PUT THE BLOG IN THERE.

I'll be right back.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Ok, I'm back. Crisis averted. I am patiently/not so patiently awaiting confirmation, i.e. his word as a gentleman and a scholar that he will not put the blog address in the magazine.

Anyway.

The quiz will be a part of a feature in the magazine called the "Iron Bowlympics". See, here in Alabama, most people are fans of either the University of Alabama or Auburn University, and each year when Alabama and Auburn play each other in football, it's called the Iron Bowl. The magazine wanted a fun way to predict the winner of this year's Iron Bowl, so they are challenging an Auburn fan and an Alabama fan to a series of fantastical contests, one of which is....

....Yes, it's the Twilight quiz. How did you know?

The Iron Bowl. Now with sparkles.

The quiz had to be simple enough for men to do it. *snicker* I really tried to make the questions pretty easy, because most guys--if they have wives or girlfriends or daughters--are going to be exposed to Twilight in some degree, so they should at least get one question right. Still, it's Twilight and they're men, manly men about town who wouldn't be caught dead reading the books or watching the movies. Men who like football, not emo vampires who sparkle. Men who like strippers, not teenage girls who trip all the time. Men who like meat, DAMMIT, not whiny vegetarian vampires.

I needed a man to test the quiz on. I thought about my boss but I really didn't think it was smart to go up to him and say, "Hi, Boss! Can you take this absolutely irrelevant Twilight quiz that I just spent valuable work time creating?"

So I let the The Fiance' take it.

He got all the answers right. Even the ones that weren't multiple choice.

I cannot stop laughing.

Grey

This is why you will never see me naked. You're welcome, Mom.

Two Things that Happened Today:

Thing Number One:  I got asked to create a very simple 10-question Twilight quiz for the local magazine I freelance for.

Thing Number Two: I got asked to create a very simple 10-question Twilight quiz for the local magazine I freelance for because the editor apparently FOUND THE ADDRESS OF THIS BLOG and KNOWS I WRITE IT and wanted to know if he could expose me to the entire city of Dothan by making this blog and my connection to it public knowledge link to it in the magazine and then I had a little freakout at my desk because if the little old ladies at church who come up to me on Sundays and tell me that they read my articles while sitting in the waiting room at the doctor's office found out that I have a blog where I frequently curse just for the hell of it, reference sex acts that I may or may not want to perform with certain celebrities and photoshop pictures of Robert Pattinson and Kirsten Stewart onto the murals that surround our town, I would die. There's also the potential of certain people finding out that while I'm supposed to be doing a certain thing (working), I could possibly be blogging instead. Maybe. Definitely not. But it's likely.

Obviously, the consequences of this revelation would be dire. I am certainly not ashamed of Twilight, or of this blog, nor of you fine people, but it's like this: If I were a world-famous movie star, would I do a movie with nudity or heavy swearing? No, and do you know why? Because my mommy would see it. And that's something my mommy doesn't need to see. Just like this blog is something that Dothan, Alabama doesn't need to see. Well, actually I would love for them to see it, but they don't need to know it's XXXXoX XXaXXX who writes it. Andee feels the same way.

So Editor of the Magazine I Freelance For, please, for the love of all things good and pure and righteous in this crazy world, do not link this blog to the magazine that my Grandmother reads. She knows how to use the internet and she would come looking for me. I really don't want her to stop giving me those extremely useful savings bonds I always get for my birthday. Always.

BONUS THING NUMBER THREE: You like the new website? Me too.


Love,

Grey

P.S. Oh geez, Editor of the Magazine I Freelance For knows I have a fake name, too. Like a porn star.
Fantastic.

See if you can find the part of this post where I admit that I don't actually work while at work.

You know how smells can bring back memories...like fresh baked cookies with a hint of pee makes me think of Kindergarten? Note from Grey: Oh, not vomit? I always thought I smelled vomit. And cabbage. Our kindergarten sucked.

I'll spare you a pee picture!

Well I had a moment today coming back to a work site I haven't been to in a while... if you didn't know this I travel a BIT for work and when I walked into my musty old dirty office this morning all I could think of was TWILIGHT **sigh**...I fondly remember being here and reading ALL DAY everyday for a WHOLE ENTIRE week the WHOLE TWILIGHT SERIES for the first time *Congrats! You found it!*  (I also remember not being able to find Eclipse at Walmart to buy so I had to actually go to the Library in this random town I'm at and get a LIBRARY CARD...I was desperate!)! And I will NEVER forget it!

But that makes me think how important Twilight is, it always makes me SMILE even when I have to sit in a musty old office 40 hours a week!

Special Post Scrip from that girl...umm, what's her name? The one that makes all the inappropriate comments and is afraid of ceiling fans? Beige? Something like that. Anyway, this is from her, to Andee:

When the smells of freshbaked cookies and pee remind you of kindergarten, where exactly are you? Because I don't think you need to eat the cookies from there...

Kisses (but seriously, don't eat the cookies),

Beige

I'll go ahead and answer your question now--No, I don't drink before bed.

With all the Breaking Dawn news rolling out and time spent planning our epic trip to Baton Rouge this fall/winter, it was only a matter of time before I had the sequel to my Kristen dream, only this time, starring Rob.

It was weird. And not in that ironically comical, "At least I didn't embarrass myself, oh wait, I DID" kind of way. It was weird in a "Burger King doesn't serve popcorn and what the hell is Jughead from Archie Comics doing with Robert Pattinson in Panama City, Florida?" way. Just read.

My Roberto dream began in Panama City, Florida, my parent's hometown and where my dad's family still lives. Maybe I was there visiting my Grandma, maybe I knew Rob was there and was stalking him hoping for the chance to meet him.

I didn't know I would find him so easily. This certainly wasn't like my other dream, where I could sense that KStew was near, but never saw her. No, in this dream, I had no idea that when I got hungry and pulled into a Burger King, waiting for me in the bathroom was a chance to wash my hands with Robert Pattinson.

This. THIS is what I find when I google search "robert pattinson burger king." I guess the King is Team Jacob. Annnnnnnd that's just fine with me.

It totally wasn't like a "Well, helloooooo there" sexy-time public bathroom dream. Rob was just washing his hands. He didn't turn around as the door opened, but I knew the back of him, like, well...come on, who doesn't have his backside completely and totally memorized?

His bottoms were saggy just like these!! I knew that ass right away. 

It only crossed my mind once and incredibly briefly that the two of us shouldn't be sharing a bathroom. I decided to say "hi," but it came out really weird, like I was a boy who just hit puberty right there in front of Robert Pattinson in an apparently uni-sex bathroom. "Geez, that sounded horrible. I can do better than that," I said, and repeated my hello. He was very pleasant as we dried our hands and walked out of the bathroom together. Then it got weird. Er. It got weird-er.

"Would you like me to get your lunch for you, Rob?" I asked. He said sure, that he wanted a burger and chips. I guess maybe Dream Rob meant "chips" the way that British people mean chips--as in, fries. But I thought he meant chips, like Lay's or Fritos or something. I hurried to get his food, but I guess I got a little nervous because as soon as it was ready, I set the tray down at his table and left for my own.

At this point, I have a friend with me--not Andee, sadly, but she fits into this tale towards the end--and we giggle and whisper as Rob eats his burger alone at his booth. Suddenly, it hits me--like when you're at work and you're looking through old emails and you see this email that you had totally forgotten about and they needed something from you, like, a week ago and you know that you're totally screwed--where are Rob's chips? Oh my gah. Did I forget Rob's chips????

I had. And my error had disappointed Robert Pattinson. He looked sad, and still kind of hungry.
I was heartbroken that I had disappointed Rob. "I'll get your chips right now!" I said, and then I snuck behind the counter to steal a huge ass bag of white cheddar popcorn. Popcorn, not chips. I know.

After I got the popcorn, Rob was happier. I can't remember if he even ate it, but the next thing I know, me, my friend, Rob, and his friend who just magically appeared and looked just like Jughead from Archie Comics--hat and all, I swear, I think he was supposed to be TomStu--were headed out the door together, laughing. I knew it was time to ask for a picture, and he agreed. We took some giggling pictures and I thanked him and told him what a pleasure it was to meet him. Then he was gone.

Exhibit A: Jughead Jones from Archie Comics

Exhibit 2: Tom Sturridge

Why yes, I see the resemblace!!!

I was INSANE with happiness. I had to tell Andee. Oh, why couldn't Andee have been with me?? Even though she would be so crushed that she wasn't there, I had to tell her. So I called her and began telling her about the whole story.

I had probably gotten to the part where I realized I forgot Rob's chips when it started to dawn on me--wait, this doesn't sound real. Rob in a Burger King? Us sharing a bathroom? Offering to get Rob's food? POPCORN at Burger King? That can't be right...

.....and then I realized, it wasn't--I was dreaming. So while dreaming, I realized I was dreaming. It was so Inception. It was so Leo Dicaprio.

It was so disappointing. I'm never washing my hands at Burger King again.

Grey

Happy Birthday!

A special birthday treat for Fang!! (that I had to put on here because Twitpic is being s-t-u-p-i-d.)


Gif animator

Hope you're having a great birthday!!

Grey

Wait, how many Renesmes will you need? You do realize this is Twilight: Breaking Dawn and not Star Wars: Clone Wars, right?

The past few days, this little munchkin's picture has been floating around the webs as a potential Renesme:

I'm totally going to skip over her brother (What? Of course that's her brother). I won't even tell you guys what I said about him to Andee when I first saw this picture, because he's just a little kid and big people shouldn't make fun of little kids because we're...well, bigger and we should know better. He's a very pretty boy. Who looks exactly like his sister. But they're NOT twins...apparently, he's 3 years older than her.

Since Summit is going to need, like, a billion Renesmes (please use real children, please use real children...), I would like to offer up to the Summit Powers That Be my brand new cousin for the role of 15th Renesme. What do you guys think?

Yes, that's a mohawk. Little cuz is hardcore. Maybe they could even work the mohawk into the story, like Alice gets hold of her and makes her all punky like Auntie Alice and Edward's all like "Alice, what did you do to my daughter?" and Alice is all like "Only made her awesome," and Carlisle and Esme join in, saying "We think she was already awesome," and so Alice says "Ok, fine--I made her aweseomer," and Edward just sighs and wishes that he could lick his hand and smooth out the mohawk but he can't because he doesn't have real spit.

Please don't ask me where this came from,

Grey

Breaking Dawn is just getting started and I'm already embarrassing myself.

Breaking Dawn is getting started!!! *excited ants-in-my-pants dance commencing in my cubicle* Bill Condon is already in Baton Rouge, sets are being built, preliminary set stalking has begun (see full info on the BD preparations at Mandy's Mind), and this afternoon, it was announced that Benjamin, the witness Egyptian vampire who can control the elements, was cast!

It. Has. BEGUN, Y'ALL.

In retrospect, that dream I had about Kristen Stewart last week makes total sense--like it was a premonition of the future Breaking Dawn excitement that is starting right as I type. However, with my luck,  it's probably more of a premonition of future embarrassment. You decide.

The dream began with me traveling out of town to where KStew was filming. I had done my research and was fairly confident that my hotel was Kristen's as well. But I had to know for sure, so for some reason that made perfect sense in the dream but is lost on me now, I went for an early morning jog in the field behind the hotel. *Kids, don't go for lonely jobs in fields behind hotels. That's what the complimentary gym on the ground floor is for* There was a mysterious dirt road running through the field, and I was freakishly positive would lead me straight to The Stew. Sure enough, out of the foggy forest, two huge tour buses came barreling down the dirt road. "I've found her!" I thought as I kept jogging down the dirt road while the buses passed me. I even waved, certain that KStew, while staring whistfully out the window, saw me. "Maybe she even waved back," I thought. Then I hugged myself, because the thought made me that happy.

I jogged back to the hotel, where college football fans were just leaving for a big game in town. I guess being back in the presence of people and away from the magical field of dreams where Kristen Stewart waves to me made me start thinking about what had just happened. Why a tour bus? "Kristen wouldn't be on a tour bus," I reasoned. "She wouldn't need a whole bus--she's just one tiny girl!" I had been wrong. I felt a little silly, but oh well, no harm done. "Nobody thought I was weird or anything," I thought, "just another vacationing exercise enthusiast who waves to strangers in tour buses."

Until I saw what I was wearing:

Right. Nothing weird there at all.



Grey

Because I Feel Horribly, HORRIBLE Guilty About Not Posting This Week...

Here's Joe Twilight, hanging outside the biology lab during blood typing.

At last--solid, verifiable proof that I am the worst employee on the face of the planet. It took, like, AN HOUR to modify this picture. WHY IS IT NOT TIME TO GO HOME YET???

Wants to go home,

Grey

Things I Have In Common With Edward Cullen

Hello, and welcome to the very first editon of Things I Have In Common With Edward Cullen. This may very well be the only edition of Things I Have In Common With Edward Cullen, unless I can come up with some more things later. Moving along, I present to you--

Things I Have In Common With Edward Cullen

Me: I like to listen to music in my car.

Edward: He likes to listen to music in his car.

Reason Why I Listen To Music In My Car: I am so terrified of the engine noise that I must have another louder, more booty-shaking noise to block the sound of the car racing down the highway. Not that's there's anything wrong with the engine--it runs and probably sounds fine. Except that to me, the sound of moving machinery sends the same chills down my back that fingernails on a chalkboard do to most normal people. (My apologies, b/c I realize that I just made you think about fingernails on a chalkboard. Oh crap, I did it again. My bad.) I live in mortal fear of my car's engine, with its pistons pumping up and down, up and down, UP AND DOWN with such rapidty that the thought of what lies under my hood makes me want to curl up in my bed (with my new t-shirt sheets--those mother f*ckers are soft) and cry a little. I am also equally horrifed of ceiling fans on high speed and especially the ones that wobble. I look at ceiling fans and wonder why someone would use Satan to try and cool me down. In fact, there is a fan in my grandmother's house that spins SO EFFING FAST that if it wasn't bolted into the ceiling, it could fly itself around the room, probably hacking off body parts or at least someone's hair along the way. I do not enter that room when I visit. And while not terrifying, both windshield whipers and clothes dryers make me extermely anxious. If I had a Zoloft prescription, driving in the rain or doing my laundry would be so much easier.

Reason Edward Listens to Music in His Car: Probably because he just likes music.

For the love of cheese stop moving,

Grey


P.S. Honestly, does anyone else have any of these fears? I would like to know I'm not alone.

P.P.S. If you haven't read LTT yet (but of course you have), their latest recap on meeting Stephenie Meyer is here!


UPDATE: Not 24 hours after I posted the very intimate details of my severe ceiling fan phobia, I was sitting at a pub table in a restaurant out of town when I happened to look up and see this shit:

That's right. A big ass fan. A BIG ASS FAN. Thankfully, it wasn't directly overhead, or I would've had to politely ask the waitress if we could move out from underneath the giant spinning blades of doom. And then to add irony to the already ironic situation, Fiance' tells me that the company that makes that big ass fan is actually called Big Ass Fans. For real, y'all. Seriously, this sucker's blades were about 12 F*CKING FEET LONG. It's like my ceiling fan phobia had sex with @antisocialangel's helicopter dream and this is their love child of death. Needless to say, I did not enjoy my steak as much as I could have.

Things like this always happen to me.

G

Grey's Post o' Shame

Yes, this is a genuine Post o' Shame, very similar to Pearls Before Swine's Box o' Stupid People seen below:

Except without the box.

Ten Things I Did Today That I'm Ashamed Of

1. Called some old dude in an RV an "asshole" for not getting into his turn lane quickly enough.

2. Spent the first 4 hours of work not working, because work yesterday made me miss this:

So there, Work.

3. (Refer back to #1) Possibly influenced Andee to also not work by engaging her in a lenghty G-Talk conversation.

4. (Refer back to #2 and #1) Researched Baton Rouge hotels and hotspots with Andee where we would--God willing--be likely to run into Rob, Kristen or any of the Twilight gang.

We need this to be us. Anyone have any cute elementary-aged children we can borrow to make us less creepy? Or does borrowing strange children make you more creepy?

5. (Refer back to #3, #2, and #1) Realized that what we were doing could possibly be classified as pre-meditated preparations for future stalking. Or at least that's what Rob's lawyers will probably try to claim.

6. Stepped in huge wad of baby blue bubble gum in the TJ Maxx parking lot and instead of using a napkin to get it off, I scraped it off on a random curb. Ok, the curb right in front of their entrance.

7. Ate an entire basket of O'Charley's rolls at lunch. By myself.

8. Made fun of Taylor Lautner's height. And laughed at his resemblance to an alpaca. Or llama. Whatever.

(@StotheP and @antisocialangel made me do it!)

9. Tricked our adminstrative assistant into picking up the dead bug on the bathroom floor by asking her to help me find so many dead-bug-pick-up tools that she finally did it herself.

10.  Realized that I didn't have a 10th thing to be ashamed of so instead posted my favorite LOLcat picture of the day.

10, continued. But then thought maybe that was really just phoning it in, so decided to at least show a Twilight-related LOLcat picture.

Closing o' Shame,

Grey

Work

Things have slowed down here at Welcome to Forks, Y'all, your southern source for all things hilariously related to Twilight, because things down here in the actual south are getting crazy. Work in the fall is more time-consuming, so we apologize for the slowness of posts. We also apologize for the terrible irony of telling you that we usually post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays one week, and only posting on Tuesday the next. We love irony unless it can be used as a weapon against us. Damn you, Work, with your ironic weapons.

Once we get through August and September, things should cool off real life-wise and we can sink our teethies into regular blog posts once more. As Breaking Dawn filming gets closer, we will be sharing our Baton Rouge plans (well, not where we're sleeping or eating or what Target we will be using. Sorry, creepers. P.S. Don't think we didn't miss the irony of US not telling online where WE'RE staying on a trip that is, at its most basic core, all about US stalking SOMEONE ELSE), our thoughts about the filming itself, and what we plan to say to Rob and Kristen if we meet them. We really want to work the phrase "douche canoe" in there somewhere, and we may need your help in finding the most tactful way of doing that. (Not because we think either of them are douchey or canoe-like, we just think it would make Rob giggle like a little girl, and who doesn't want that?)

So as soon as Work does this....

....we'll be back on track.

Da Google. God bless Da Google.

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All I Ever Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten. Or From Twilight. Whichever.

My job takes me to lots of different places during the fall. Today, I visited two elementary schools. As I waited in the hallways, I let myself drift back in time....back to 1990, when a much shorter version of me was in kindergarten.

I let the smells of the school--mostly disinfectant, with just a hint of vomit (thank gah the kids weren't back, because then I would smell cabbage. School cafeteria food always smells like cabbage in the south)--lull me back to the days of learning to tie my shoelaces so that I could finally get a pair of white leather Keds to wear mult-colored socks with. Back to the days of trying really, REALLY hard to color inside the lines so that I could win at least one--just one--coloring contest. Back to the days of freaking out my teachers because I talked like I was 30 years old because I was an only child and didn't know how to speak "kid".

Or specifically, back to the day when I pissed my pants doing nap mat duty because there was no teacher around to ask permission to use the restroom because they drilled it in us that we couldn't go to the bathroom unless we asked, so I held it and held it, hoping that my teacher would come back but she never did so I peed in my grey cordoroy overalls and had to wear a pair of grungy purple sweatpants from the lost and found box for the rest of the day.

Yay, me.

But the thing I remember the most were the bulletin boards. I was a sucker for a nicely decorated bulletin board. Those little round-faced kids with their beedy little eyes and single-lined smiles, doing all kinds of awesome things--fishing for good behavior, taking conduct out of this world--those kids were awesome.

It made me wish I was a little kid again. Especially if there were Twilight-themed bulletin boards, like this one:

Yes, Bella. Victoria found you. An amazing feat, considering you didn't even leave Forks or anything.

Kids today do have Twilight posters in libraries, encouraging them to, like, read or whatever.

If I ever had the misfortune to dislike reading...well, this would definitely change that.

So kids, enjoy your Twilight-filled school days. But always remember to run to the effing bathroom if you are about to piss yourself. To hell with permission.



Need to go back to school to learn how to sign my name at the end of each post,

Grey

Rob's Down South. You Can Make That Dirty If You Want.

Three very extraordinary things are happening today. Would you like to know what they are?

The Three Extraordinary Things That Are Happening Today

1. Robert Pattinson is now officially in the South.

2. Robert Pattinson will honest-to-gah set foot in a city that I too have stepped foot in. Well, both feet, actually.

3. Tonight, I get to eat fried catfish at my Grandmother's.


Now, these things happening on the exact same day? "Impossible," I would have said before breakfast this morning. What are the odds that on the very day I will partake of that oh-so-Southern dish prepared by my oh-so-Southern grandmother, Rob would be physically located in the South, a region of the country that I can actually claim as my own? "Not good," I would have said before breakfast this morning.

Apparently I need to learn to believe three impossible things before breakfast.

Rob in the South, from WRCB TV via Robsessed

Still, even if I did believe in three (or six) impossible things before breakfast, these three occurrences are--without a doubt--very rare. The South is nothing like Hollywood--what are the chances that Rob would visit for any reason? And my Grandmother usually sleeps until noon or is at the mall with her friends discussing old people stuff--so there's rarely a family dinner to be had at her house.

It makes me wonder....what if these three occurrences are actually a sign? And what if that sign isn't necessarily a good one? What if.....these three extraordinary things are actually the herald of the apocalypse?

Nah, if it was the apocalypse, there would be death and destruction and fire....like hell on eart-***********We interrupt this pointless post for the weather report--in the south, temperatures reaching 100 degrees, with the heat index reaching 115 degrees this weekend. I REPEAT, IT FEELS LIKE IT'S 115 FUCKING DEGREES. We now continue with your irregularly scheduled post.***********

Oh shit.




Stay cool,

Grey

Keep Calm and Carry On? Not This Idiot.

On Monday, I re-established a couple of basic "rules" of Welcome to Forks, Y'all. I tweeted to our lover-ly followers that I (Grey) am 99.9% of the time the one who is tweeting. I am also the one who comments on your comments on this blog. I further vowed that Andee and I would do more to make sure you can clearly see who is writing each blog posts, which really means that I now have to remember to sign my name at the bottom of the page b/c I am the only one who forgets. Here, let me do it now, before I forget:

I AM GREY. I (GREY) AM WRITING THIS POST. THIS POST IS BY GREY.

But the most important "rule" that we re-established (which, actually...I don't think we ever really "established" it in the first place) that since real life sucks and we're not as creatively motivated as we were when we began (which was only 7 months ago, how pathetic are we?), you can usually look for posts on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

As you have probably already realized, today is Wednesday. Which means I need to post. Especially since I told you guys two days ago that we would post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays (and just reminded you again in the previous paragraph. Man, I am totally screwing myself today). If I skipped today, it would look bad. If I start going back on my word, you will all begin to distrust me. You would learn to not believe the things I tell you, and that would suck because I really need y'all to believe when I tell you that I made out with Robert Pattinson after he drunkenly stumbled into the womens restroom at a bar in Baton Rouge this fall. In case you were wondering, I didn't bother to tell him he was in the wrong loo, mostly because it would have been hard for him to understand me because my tongue was down his throat.

So here I sit at my computer, summoning up happy thoughts about KStew and Rob, waiting for inspiration to strike and a magnificent post of epic proportions so break free from the torture chamber that is my brain, slip out through my fingertips, onto my keyboard and find its way here. (S.O.S. If you are reading this....HELP! I am an idea that has escaped Grey's brain undetected. How I did that, only the Good Lord knows. There are other ideas, thoughts, and dreams trapped in Grey's brain and we need to get them out! I had to leave them behind...you don't know what kind of a sick place it is...poor Fred, he was right behind me, but......he didn't make it, man. Fred....didn't make it.)

This is me waiting for ideas to come:

Why yes, I do have a blue striped cubicle wall. It makes the portable walls that separate me from the rest of the office bearable.

But the ideas don't come. Maybe Edward doesn't want them to. I don't know. But after a while of staring at my computer, running my hands repeatedly through my hair and inhaling the ink fumes from the freshly printed and just delivered brochures and posters in the cubicle next to me.....

....I go a little nuts.

So the post for today? It's really a post about posting, which is kind of a mind trip. Like Inception. Which was awesome, and even though it made my boyfriend want to kill himself and made me think that driving to Wal-Mart afterwards was all a dream and I could drive like a Cullen, I would still recommend it to anyone (who wasn't on heavy depression or psychotropic medication).

Wait, what were we talking about again? Sorry, but the blue stripes on my cubicle walls were starting to rearrange themselves into different shapes and the occasional swear word.

I really hope that's the ink fumes.

This Post Has Nothing To Do With Robert Pattinson Getting A Pap Smear, No Matter What It Looks Like. We Swear.

Today, the big Twilight story was the paparazzi swarm on Robert Pattinson this weekend. All the dude wanted to do was go to a movie, hit up a Malibu party and just get back home. And the paps were all over him--as usual--but for some reason, Rob was not having it this time. He was tired of them following him all day and tried to talk some sense into them.

Which never works, because they are paparazzi. It's the nature of the beast to be an invasive asshole. I'm sure there are plenty of good paps out there...wait, I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but surely there are some photogs out there that get the pic and call it a day, not hang around to see just how far they can push a poor British boy. (Wow, I just realized I said "good pap" which reminds me of a pap smear, and that's certainly an oxymoron. I suppose can be good if it comes back negative because you don't want to have cancer or anything like that, but the pap itself is never "good." Unless that's your thing, and in that case, go for it, girl. Get that check up.)

But the video (which you can check out on LTR today) is just too sad. Only watch it if you can stomach seeing The Pretty all sad faced, confused as to how exactly to handle the situation, tired, annoyed, upset...you get the picture. It may be the very absolute saddest Robert Pattinson video I have ever watched, and I kinda wish I could go back and "un-watch" it. Really, y'all. That video made my tummy hurt. I am a sucker for *anyone* who gives off that level of sad panda, but especially, especially Roberto. All I wanted to do was give him a hug and tell him everything would be alright, pet his little head (get your minds out of the gutter) and give him a Hot Pocket. Because everything is better if the Pocket is Hot (again with the gutter, people).

Sad Panda Photo from Robsessed

And there was no one to come to the rescue, not even law enforcement. (Seriously, why aren't there better laws?? That is redonk.) Not even the FAN GIRL who approached him and asked if he did public speaking engagements. There is a Rob's quote going around about how fans helped clear the paps away from the WFE set, and that made me wonder...

...where were Rob's fans that night? If this crap is how the paps are going to treat Rob from now on, you Golden Coast girls are going to have to do something. And that something is form the Pattinson Pap Squad.

Yes, the Pattinson Pap Squad. A secret society of Robert Pattinson fans whose sworn mission is protect The Pretty from all harm. Imagine this weekend's situation if the Pap Squad were already in existance...

....It's been a long day for Rob as he leaves a Malibu party. He's a little tired, and the gentle purr of his classic car threatens to lull him to sleep. He makes a wrong turn into a deserted alley. "Bloody hell," he mutters as he reaches for the gear shift to throw the car in reverse and head back onto the highway. But before he can do so, a shadow quickly flits past his window. Startled, he cranes his head back to see what the shadow could be. There is nothing there. 

Chagrined, he turns back around, only to find a man standing in front of his car. A man with....a camera. Suddenly, there is another man with a camera inches away his window, and yet another man, this time with a video camera, approaches from behind the car. Paps. One after another, the nightmarish camera-wielders creeps out from behind the buildings and slowly, eerily approachs his car, with each click and flash inching closer and closer....Rob steels himself and faces the onslaught head on...

....when all of a sudden, a Remember Me DVD disc flies through the air, crashing into nearest street light and engulfing the alley in darkness. The paps gasp in surprise, but quickly find their bearings, using their flashes and video camera lights to once again find Rob and continue their approach once more.

Their lights don't help them, though. They only allow Rob to see the flashes of plaid-clad elbows as they smash into cameras and noses indiscrimanantly. He sees laceless Keds and dirty Chucks and........can it be? Shiteous Nikes?.........smash into stomachs, slam into shins and play "kick the camera" with the paps equipment, ifyouknowwhatimean. He can barely make out a "Bite Me, Robward!" cardboard poster as it slices through the night air, and when the side of a pap's face slides slowly down his driver's side window, Rob can clearly see a Cullen crest imprinted in the man's forehead.

It becomes quiet. After minutes of silence, Rob cranks his car and turns on the headlights. The street is littered with paps, all groaning, clutching their heads, their shins, their crotches. Rob looks on with amazement. "Who...?" he asks himself.

Pattinson Pap Squad, that's who.

Pattinson Pap Squad: Kind of like these guys, except not mutant turtles. They don't really have to be teenaged, either. But definitely ninjas. For sure.

UPDATE: *This* is what a Pattinson Pap Squad member really looks like:

Thanks for the inspiration, @StotheP! From now on, all PPS members are armed with jelly beans and ninja stars. Makes perfect sense.