I’ll admit straight up that this Geek Speak has nothing to do with Texas but this is just too awesome of a video that I can’t pass up an opportunity to point the masses to it. Coming out next month is The Beatles: Rock Band and they just released the intro video to this game and it is GORGEOUS. Thankfully my wife feels the same way, which may indicate a change in her insistance that, “WE DO NOT NEED ANOTHER GAMING SYSTEM IN OUR HOUSE.”

That being said, I suspect this is the game that will single-handedly win the battle that has been raging in my home over getting an X Box 360. The game alone will give me the opportunity to pretend like I’m in the band of my dreams and on top of that, they are releasing special controllers designed like The Beatles’ instruments (which adds to the argument of getting a 360, it’s less expensive than an actual Rickenbacker or a Hofner).

Go and enjoy the video, which by the by, was produced by the same brilliant folks, Passion Pictures, who created the play-doh bunny-filled Sony Bravia commercial.


Last night Howard and I headed up to Northpark Mall to view a special screening of Transformers: Rise of the Fallen. (Shout out to General Motors for the invite.)

As many of you who would click on the link to read this write up would know, Rise of the Fallen is the sequel to the 2007 hit, Transformers. The film takes place shortly after the events of the first film where we find our hero, Sam Witwickey (Shia Lebeouf) setting out to college hoping to start a new as a normal college student after the events of the first film and even chooses to leave behind his beloved Camaro/ robot-alien bodyguard to achieve this. Before he can take off however he finds a shard of the All Spark that had fallen in with his clothes. The All Spark then transfers into his mind dozens of symbols that he has no idea of their meaning. What follows after that is a LOT of explosions. A LOT.

That’s not to say that is a bad thing. This is a fun, exciting, summer action film and should be thought of as no less. Just about everything you might have ready about this film is true, good or bad review. As Gawker said, it is “Loud, obnoxious, and loud.” But I don’t think that should rule it out as a good film. Sure it lacks the profundity of say, Citizen Kane, but if you go in there expecting it to be, you shouldn’t be watching this film. The film comes in at about 2.5 hours and you can tell, but at the same time you’re not begging for it to be over. The plot is understandable (though there are a few moments where you think they just half-assed a getting from point a-b situation), the dialogue is fun (especially with Sam’s parents) and the special effects are impressive.

This time around there is twice as many robots than the last film. The irony being I think there was half as much dialogue coming from robots than the last one and what dialogue you get from the new robots is pretty blatant racial stereotyping in my opinion, but I’ll leave you to judge that for yourself. Some of the language said from the robots is a bit adult (though funny) but probably not very suitable for a child under the age of 15 (parental discretion is advised).

All and all this is a great summer popcorn movie that really has one purpose: to entertain.

Coming off the heels of the WTNW watching party and charity event and coupling that with Father’s Day, let us say it was indeed a long weekend. But, as promised, I’m going to give you an update on how the charity event went, answer a few questions and show you a ton of photos from my week in New York.

First and foremost, thanks to everyone who was able to make it out to Jack’s Backyard for the watching party. With your help, we were able to raise a lot of money for Attitudes & Attire and I couldn’t be happier! They are such an amazing organization, helping far needier women than you could ever imagine. I will continue to work with Attitudes & Attire on my own time and will keep you updated when they have events and clothing drives. Read more


You’ve written, you left comments. You all are amazing. You have all been so kind. So sweet. And though I’m still overwhelmed, and, let’s be honest, tipsy from the party, I’ll have plenty to say soon, but, gosh, you all are wonderful. Update: Here ya go.

I promise to post pictures and thoughts and everything else on Saturday…or Sunday. .. you know, it happens to be the weekend and all..

But, I’m so proud to say, we turned my ‘watching party’ tonight into a benefit that raised a lot of money for a great cause!

wntw3Greetings, Squawkees. I’m back and though my outside looks wholly different, my insides are still all me. See that photo to the right? I’m the black blob in the middle. The other two? That would be Jason and Beatriz. I mentioned last week that I won’t be able to talk with you about my experience with What Not to Wear, nor will I be able to show any other photos, but I assure you you, when we have the watching party at Jack’s Backyard, you’re all invited. Suffice it to say though, I’m tired, sniffly, and yes, even I can say I look pretty fabulous – something I wouldn’t have been able to say a week ago. Read more

Good morning, the kind crew of WNTW are no longer allowing me to blog. There’s a totally awesome surprise attached to that caveat, though…that and they know I have a big mouth and might totally spill the beans for tonight.

Instead let me say this: Cheese and noodles, stupid. Blondie. Jamaican. Jumpsuit. Thigh mic. Baffle. Boom. Drag Queen. Soda money. Wheelchair. Polar bears and their purpose. Sick bitches. Guy Smiley. Peach Pot. Meatloaf. Bino. Eric. Douglas Blue Eyes. Mean Bea. Jackie Ass Hater. Evil Banana Republic Guy. Can I have a Kleenex? Hoodie. Yoda. Jawa. Cab Stealing. Lucy. Chicken cutlets. Bones in food. Headless tilts.


See you all live and in person tomorrow, Dallas…You’ll see me if you know where to go and what time.  

If the ground shakes violently at approximately 11 a.m. Friday morning, it means me, my bodacious D-sized ta-tas and my wardrobe have arrived. Though, we might need a second plane for all of my shoes.

Mrs. Marcos would be far too formal for as much as we’ve shared. By all means, just call me Imelda. Would you like some coffee? No, fine. Just allow me to pour myself a cup, you don’t mind that I’m lounging in a robe, do you? Thanks. Ah, perfect, now that I have my coffee, let me tell you a little story about a wild, gray haired gal with a closely guarded but deep seated shoe fetish and what happens when you turn her loose at DSW.

dsw-01Oh, you don’t have time for a story? Neither do I. I left this freaking hotel at the crack of dawn and didn’t return until midnight last night. I’m freakin tired. So, here are the highlights:

We ate breakfast. Me and Jason? We’re totally twinsies now: scrambled eggs, wheat toast, taters, coffee. He just doesn’t have my nasty cigarette habit.

Jason, me, Beatriz, The Earring Lady, and Todd storm Union Square’s DSW’s entrance. I mean we STORMED that mutha. In fact, we stormed it 576 THOUSAND times before we got the right shot of me prancing my pert little butt in there.

Then we stormed that DSW escalator. Gratefully, we did this in one take.

Next, Jason, me, Beatriz, The Earring Lady, Todd and, now, someone named Valencia, storm the DSW store. I mean we STORMED that mutha. In fact, we stormed it 576 BILLIONTY times before we got the right shot of me frothing at the mouth to get in there.

Before we go any further, allow me to introduce to you our cast of characters for the day:

Jason – you met him yesterday. Trusty sidekick. Shoulder to cry upon. Quick to call me many variations of Peach, including, but not limited to: Peach, Peaches and Peach Pot. Jason has the unfortunate task of lugging around a 600 pound camera to film me. In addition to his aforementioned duties, he is also a producer. I heart Jason. I heart Jason hard. He’s with me morning, noon and night.

Beatriz – Director. Cute as a bug. My height. Her job requires her to ask me mean questions such as: Why are you crying? Do those _______ make you feel pretty/sexy/ like a fly mutha-bleeper? Though I call Bea, The Mean Lady, Read more

It was a dark and stormy day. Monday morning found me packing up the few items of clothing I had, sans workout clothes, sliding on my trusty flip-flops, and hopping into a cab with Jason G, my trusty sidekick. Our first stop? The amazing Bra Guru.

Trusty Sidekick

{intimacy}, located in Madison Avenue, was kind enough to open up for little ‘ol bra-impaired me for a private fitting, and frankly, I was excited. As the door was unlocked, I was immediately greeted by the lovely Dee Binyard, Bra Fit Stylist. I had the shop to myself and I assure you, Dee knows her bras. In a matter of minutes, I’d been fitted so perfectly into four beautiful bras. I wanted to kiss the woman for her genius, instead, I begged Dee to let me leave the store wearing my new low cut t-shirt bra. A bra that felt as if God himself had made it just for me. (During my visit, I did my best to get Jason to try on a pink and purple lacy thong, but, no dice.) As she wrapped up the remaining bras, she and the ladies of {intimacy}, gave me a gift of a beautiful lingerie bag and special wash to insure I take good care of the bras who know were making my ‘girls’ look so good, I couldn’t help starting at my own chest. Jealous? Well, if you live in Dallas or Houston, you’re in luck, both cities have {intimacy} locations. Do your boobs and your clothes a favor and visit.

22Next we were off to the What Not to Wear studios. Located on the 5th floor of a Union Square area building, the space was small and very efficient. Pre-interview, introductions to crew, and wired for sound, the next 10 hours found me changing in and out of clothes, confronting the 360 mirror, and watching my clothes being trashed. As hot and sweaty as the lights were, as devastating and enlightening as the 360 mirror was, I must admit, the trashing of the clothes was…cathartic and happily I was able to keep a few things. I was introduced to my ‘rules’ mannequins and thought, as they yelled, ‘cut!’ that I was done. I rushed back to my room in the studio, put on my clothes, packed my back and was ready to go back to the hotel, exhausted. My head was reeling with information, apparently I have a large rack, who knew? My ego bruised and a little defiant and I was, honestly, emotionally and intellectually feeling a little battered. My escape, was short lived.

Bye Bye Clothes

Bye Bye Clothes

Jason alerted me that I had one final interview for the day. *sigh* I had to go back to my room in the studio, pull a dress out of the trash bin, sit in a chair and answer some pretty hard questions about myself. “Why are you drowning yourself in clothes?” “How do you feel….” “Why do you think…” I was tired, I gave my answers, cried a little, okay, a lot, and finally I was freed. I understand know why the women on the show cry and get cranky. They’re just as exhausted from shooting and reshooting, room level checks, and everything else that comes with the complications of making a show as I was. It’s not a lack of gratitude on their part, we’re all grateful for this once in a life time opportunity, its simply physical and emotional exhaustion you’re seeing, and I assure you of that.

13 hours later, I was finally allowed to hoof it from the WNTW studios, suitcase in hand, leapt through puddles and dodged raindrops the size of half dollars. Finally in the confines of my hotel room, I found myself, beer in hand, doing my best to try to reconcile the last 13 hours of my life. And this morning I still haven’t.

But I’ll let you in on a few things I learned before I go on my first day of shopping with Jason:

Flip Flops are not ideal for rainy NYC days and nights.

There is, apparently, a “sex kitten” inside of me.

I have big boobs. I swear I didn’t know this.

Some body mics have teeth. Teeth that will bite the aforementioned boobs.

I can’t open my hotel windows thanks to a man on the 19th floor that decided to go out on the ledge.

Saying goodbye to old, frumpy, bury herself in clothes Amanda felt good. Damn good.

Talk to you soon, Texas!

Good morning, Texas! That picture is the view from my room at 6 a.m. Texas time, as you can see, this morning is cloudy and cold, we’re also expecting rain. Monday is here and today the horrors of the 360 mirror are upon me. In just a few scant hours I’ll be whisked away to have my wardrobe trashed, with great aplomb I’m sure, I’ll be fitted by the Bra Guru, and shall spend my day in a brand new What Not to Wear Studio.

But of, friends, lets talk about yesterday’s little Newark airport adventure, shall we? After landing in lovely Newark, New Jersey, I found my way to baggage claim, snagged my near empty suitcase and found my way outdoors for two pressing reasons:

A.) I needed a cigarette or seven after spending an ungodly flight sitting in front of three women. Women with voices that could only be described as Edith Bunker. Make that Edith with strep throat and a Georgia accent. They felt it was not only important to talk as loudly as they could, they also felt it was their responsibility to describe everything that was happening on the plane. “Oh! That baby is crying. That baby is upset. Can you hear that baby crying?” Other greatest hits included, “Oh! Do you hear that little dog? That little dog is barking! Oh that dog is upset.” which was often followed by, “Oh! The stewardess is coming with drinks! I see the cart. Oh the stewardess is here! Dear, may I have a Blind Mary? I just love Blind Marys.” One can only assume she meant Bloody Mary. Read more

However, David Byrne did indeed set his film, True Stories, in the fictional town of Virgil, Texas. Most fans hated the flick, I sort of like it for it’s cheese factor, astounding quirkiness and the fact that the majority of the movie was filmed in Dallas, including one scene in the iconic North Park Mall. So once again, it is never impossible to link something, via six degrees of separation, to Texas. That’s why Texas rocks.