Serious Questions for James McAvoy

So, E, I went and saw Wanted yesterday. And, no, it was not just because James McAvoy is the star. ...Okay, maybe that was like 75% of the reason...but I was ALSO doing important research for my Project To Turn Myself Into Angelina Jolie. I DO realize that this blog might not be able to handle any more Awesome than it already has, but I'm willing to take that chance. Plus, this research is vital to my future, people--perhaps even more so than finding a new job and applying to grad school, both of which would be made easy as pie as soon as my morph into Angelina is complete. I mean, schools and employers probably wouldn't even require an application from Angelina Jolie. Everyone knows that.


Dear readers, if you are lucky enough to know your Salonnières in person, then you know that we like to be prepared. Semper Paratus and all that. Well, actually, if we're talking specifically about us, then it would be Semper Paratae. And there you go folks, THAT'S what a B.A. in Latin gets you--anal retentiveness over the grammar of a dead language that no one gives a flying crap about. Don't be jealous... As I was saying, E and I like to be prepared for absolutely everything such as when major print media companies might ask us to interview huge celebrities, a situation which could arise AT ANY MOMENT. So it's a good thing E and I have already compiled a list of Very Serious Questions for the brilliant actor James McAvoy:

1. How depressed are you that we've never actually met?

2. Have you been waiting all your life for us?

3. Is your marriage semi-over? If the answer is yes, how does this help us to better imagine you as our Scottish lover AND how does your personal tragedy and our personal gain serve as your artistic motivation?

4. What shade of blue would you say your eyes are, really?

5. How many different ways do you think we are better for you than any woman, ever?

6. If you could have us anywhere, where would it be? Don't be shy. We certainly won't be.

7. If we turned off all the lights, plunging us into complete and total darkness, and we were to touch you inappropriately, but nobody saw, would it really count? If the answer is no, could that be a reason for another go at it?

8. If we threw ourselves at your feet, would you freak out? ...Because we might.

9. Would you be at all averse to reenacting all your sexy scenes from any movie you've ever been in, with us, even if you don't find them particularly sexy yourself (unless you found the wee horns of your Tumnus costume arousing, and then we'll have to be allowed a follow-up question)? Also, to be honest, we didn't really mind the horns...

10. Do you need a pair of personal assistants? Because we're available. Not to mention how amazing we would be at being personal assistants since we are so WITH IT all the time. Seriously, we would be totally on top of you things. For real, James McAvoy. Think about it and get back to us, you know, whenever...




So, E, I hope those questions aren't too serious for when they call us to do the interview. I mean, the intellectual heft evident in this list could be kind of intimidating for some people; hopefully, it won't put them off. So, also, I have this feeling that Mrs. James McAvoy, amazing actress Anne-Marie Duff, (HELLO, The Magdalene Sisters. If you have not seen this movie, go rent it, like, now. Tonight. I mean it.) would think we are SO WITTY AND HILARIOUS. She would LOVE us. I just know it.

Someone left the cake out in the rain...

So everyone knows that cakes are basically good. I mean, show me someone who doesn't like cake and I'll show you someone who's obviously a complete freak. Since most normal people love cake probably more than their own CHILDREN, cake design is clearly big business AND is also apparently a pretty old business dating back to the 1990s. No joke, people! Witness English actress Jane Asher's Calendar of Cakes:

Please also witness the fact that Ms. Asher is wearing a pair of heart-shaped cookie cutters as earrings in this cover photo. In her defense, it was the '90's--it was crazy like that. We tight-rolled our jeans. Plus, she's apparently one of those lucky women who look better now (at 62!) than she ever has (I'm telling you, people--scroll down on her wikipedia entry--you will not be disappointed), so any cookie cutters on the ears from years past are just water under the bridge, really. Anyway, Ms. Asher seems like a lovely tv personality perfectly capable of making beautiful and enticing cakes such as these:





I don't know how you can go wrong with that. Flowers+Chocolate+Cake=Happily Ever After. I'll be honest and say the second cake is pretty much my dream come true. Of course, I'd probably get too excited, down it all in one sitting and have to throw it all back up, but it would have been nice while it lasted. Unfortunately, not all Ms. Asher's cakes are so alluring. I guess it IS hard hard to come up with theme cakes for every month of the year PLUS star signs, but I think this is taking it a bit far:



Uh, I KNOW. Could Ms. Asher not have used a Scorpio design that was a little less terrifying and realistic? I mean, my first thought when I saw this cake was something along the lines of, "AHHHHHHHH! Oh my God! Run for your LIVES! A SCORPION! THEY STING! 911! " I mean, can you imagine if someone made this for your birthday? Because, you could be a SCORPIO, and your BFF might be thinking it would be all innovative and unique to sculpt your star sign on your birthday cake. So there you are at your party all HAPPY and everyone's SINGING to you and then your BFF walks in with a flaming scorpion cake and everyone starts screaming and falling all over each other to get out the door and in the chaos, your flaming cake falls to the floor and catches your house on fire and then, later, as everyone is standing on the sidewalk across the street observing the smoking rubble that used to be your Home Sweet Home, someone says softly, "But I swear I saw it move."

If you thought an eerily realistic scorpion must be the creepiest idea for a cake EVER, it's only because you haven't seen this next cake:


Yes, folks, that is actually a CAKE IN THE SHAPE OF A VIRGIN for the star sign Virgo. Perhaps Ms. Asher could have done something a little more metaphorical, like a lovely blooming FLOWER or a meadow with a FAWN in it or SNOW or SOMETHING, since pretty much the only way this cake could have been more creepy and literal is if it were molded into the shape of an intact hymen. I mean, unless you're Jeffery Dahmer, it just feels like it would be wrong to even cut this cake, much less eat it, especially with her all sleeping and looking peaceful and everything. Maybe this is intended for middle-aged women to eat for the promotion of youth and beauty, in lieu of bathing in the blood of actual virgins. (So...any word on whether that virgin blood thing actually works? Because...I would try it when the time comes.) Also interesting is Ms. Asher's commentary on this particular cake:

This isn't an easy star sign to portray without causing undue giggles. I decided a beautiful girl alone in her bed sleeping peacefully between virginal white sheets would sum it up quite well (of course, what you and I don't know is that there is probably a handsome icing prince hiding under the bed...)

AHA! So it's really a CAKE IN THE SHAPE OF A DIRTY WHORE. How clever and ironic. Something that really isn't clever and ironic, but apparently intended to be, is this next cake which is supposed to be an idea for a thoughtful Mother's Day gift:




Oh, how considerate. Let's remind mom of her very favorite chore ever in the whole world! So, for Father's Day, are we supposed to make a cake in the shape of a clogged gutter? A stopped up toilet? I myself don't actually have children, but if I did, and they presented this to me for Mother's Day, I'd ship them all off to some filthy Dickensian workhouse jointly owned and operated by Miss Hannigan and the witch from Hansel and Gretel. Bake that, kids. That's right.

Carnage in the city...

Just so all 5 readers of this blog (and I think that number pretty much includes your Dear Salonnières) will know, Poor E was involved in a desperate accident in which she was struck by a car while crossing the street. Fear not though, kind readers--I recently spoke with her on the phone and she seems perfectly fine except that she doesn't remember anything about the accident and giggles a lot, apparently especially in church at weddings during HOLY COMMUNION, which reminds me to ask E for some of whatever pain meds she's on if she has any left over, since, I'll have what she's having, if you know what I mean...

So anyway, E, I would never suggest that this accident was in any way your fault, and I'm sure the odd person here in Atlanta runs a stop sign now and again (although, everyone knows Atlanta traffic is normally like a cool summer breeze against the cheek, so whatever...) but I believe we all know this incident is indicative of What Happens When You Move to a Big City in Yankee Land. Everyone knows what Yankee Cities are like--full of sinners sinning boldly by running down pedestrians and cussing all the time. I mean, HELLO, haven't you seen 8 Mile? I mean, I haven't, but I'm pretty sure it's about dangerous people in the city. And besides, I HAVE seen Adventures in Babysitting. I rest my case.

Happy Birthday to Emmy!

A cheer for the lovely lady... huzzah!

So, E, good thing we're so glamorous and sexy now...

Because it totally makes up for these bangs:



Not to mention my overall look in this shot. ...Well, what? What. You didn't really think I was going to let you see my EYES, did you? I mean, you might figure out WHO I REALLY AM--geez, people. Yes, I know--I KNOW it's hard to believe, but that was me, Emmy, one of your two AMAZING Salonnières, delirious with Christmas joy way back in 1987. It just goes to show you what happens When Your Mom Cuts Your Bangs and Accidentally Gives You a Mullet. Let this be a warning to society at large.

Also, I know that the gift item that I am clinging to and presenting as if I were on The Price Is Right is actually just a plastic rod with a ribbon attached to it and may seem to you to be as entertaining as a high end cat toy, but I want you all to know that it was awesome. Hey, don't judge. It came with a tape.

Sharing the wealth...

One morning over a delectable breakfast of scones and clotted cream, Emmy and E reflected upon their previous evening’s salon. Per usual, the men in attendance were equal parts handsome, charming, witty, and clever. The atmosphere had been lively—-again, not out of the ordinary for the ladies’ little soirees. And the food, as always, was exceptional (Emmy and E prided themselves on the culinary excellence of their events). Yet, in the midst of all the revelry, the beautiful and noble-minded women each had experienced the same nagging thought. Did they have a duty to those less fortunate than themselves, a responsibility to share the blessings of their charmed existence with the wider citizenry?

As the morning sun cast a flattering soft light across their faces, Emmy and E discussed their humanitarian musings of the night before. More importantly for everyone else, the ladies discussed how they might exercise said impulses to the maximum benefit of the masses.

After long, careful consideration of how they might best impact the greater good (with a minimum of inconvenience to themselves, naturally), Emmy and E settled on a truly agreeable solution. The especially entertaining and/or enlightening bits from their nightly salons would be shared with the greater population, all done in so circumspect a manner as to protect the privacy of their guests. In this way, the ladies could help assuage the hunger for truly good society by a public too large either to be invited or ignored, without compromising the élan and good taste of their salon.

This delicious bit of inspiration satisfied the women’s acute sense of noblesse oblige; after all, to whom much has been given and all that. They could retire to their afternoon naps with consciences comfortable once more. And so, with generous hearts, stunning good looks, and exquisite fashion sense, Emmy and E share the wealth.