Yesterday, Snarkier Than You and I trekked our way into New York City to attend a charity screening of New Moon that was hosted by TwilightMoms. We climbed onto the train all vainly coiffed and sportin' our Twitarded gear and practically bounced on the seats the entire way into the city. I swear STY's head almost exploded at one point because the train was going sooooo slow, but we finally made it. We walked out of Penn Station, totally stoked... and then the skies opened and pissed all over us. I'm starting to see a Twitarded/Twilight/NYC/shitty-ass weather pattern here...
Anyway, we finally got our bedraggled asses to the theater and met up with Sister Snarky, Nomness, Lorabell, TwiCrackAddict, TJBarber and two lovely ladies who arrived on the scene at the same time we did, Angela and Claire. Congratulations ladies! You got to witness the Twitarded train-wreck at the height of its frenzy. Hope it was as good for you as it was for us. Do we need to do any damage control? I'm assuming... yes.
Speaking of TJ - not only is she seven shades of awesome to begin with, she actually had cupcakes made and delivered [for all of us!] while we were waiting on line. They looked amazing and from the sounds STY was making as she devoured hers, they were obviously totally orgasmic. Thanks, TJ!!
Then we headed to the bar across the streets, natch. Food and drinks were consumed as we kept a close eye on the theater to make sure a line (or "queue" to the Brits and the Irish in our party) wasn't forming because there was no way in hell ANYONE was getting in front of us.
Once a line did form, we all made a beeline like some kind of bloggy army and took our places. Since it was chilly and rainy and neither STY nor I had the foresight to bring coats because we are NEVER prepared for anything [what? it's late November--who would have thought it was coat weather?], whiskey was used to keep warm. A flask to nip at? Now THAT we always have prepared. Do they have a Girl Scout badge for that? No??
Then the cameras started showing up. Like, real, honest-to-goodness news reporters and shit, which is, naturally, something I never even considered but probably should have.
At one point, just before the doors opened, the newsman yelled something to the effect of "scream and cheer for New Moon, you little bitches!" to which our entire crew responded by doing a duck and cover -- some because they didn't want bosses or family members to see them and others [er, me] because they looked like a drowned rat.
We finally took our seats and the TwilightMoms did a bunch of raffles and trivia contests and everyone was hooting and hollering.
And then the doors opened. And two men walked in. They looked all big and bad ass-y, like FBI meets the fucking Bronx and it turns out they were cops. With night vision goggles. I can't make this shit up. And they threatened to tase us [okay, that part I am making up] if they so much as saw a single cell phone. Subdued, STY and I immediately turned off our phones and tucked them away for later. It wasn't like we were planning on taking any more pictures, anyway.
And then the doors opened AGAIN and THESE two guys walked in:
I have never, ever, in my entire life experienced something that is as ear-shattering as a room full of women and girls fan-girl-fucking-screaming their faces off. I've been to hundreds of live concerts [punk and metal, too!] and the decibel level of all of them paled in comparison to the sheer seizure-inducing shrieks that surrounded us. Seriously, the US government needs to find a way to package that shit because I'm pretty sure you could decimate entire cities with that noise. I didn't even know anyone over the age of six could hit those notes.
It turns out STY and I are not screamers [unless it's a video game, then yes, I most definitely am]. Who knew? We just kind of sat there, wincing and clutching our ears in agony. I think, anyway, because everything got a little...weird at that point.
First of all, both of these dudes are hot. Way hot. Our shitty pictures don't do them justice. I mean, I knew they were good looking to begin with, but I didn't realize they were THAT good looking. I have never seen more sparkly humans in my life, and they hadn't even been sprayed by the chick roaming the line with a can of spray-on glitter. The were just radiant. Peter Facinelli's eyes twinkle like he's Santa Claus asking if we've been good. And we haven't been.
And Kellan Lutz? Um, yum. He has remained relatively unscathed as far as our shameless objectification goes on this blog. That will
We wanted to win that fucking auction like a fat kid wants cake. And not shitty cake, either. GOOD cake. The kind that smells like heaven and has icing that is so dense with sugar that you can can feel granules crunching in your teeth.
Because I'm a tool, I immediately switched into what I like to call "Holy-Fucking-Spazoid Mode" and was hollering out bids with great gusto and twitching like I had the DTs. I know there is a video of this and I can only hope I never, ever see it. It's not going to be pretty. And STY's jaw was on the ground and her eyes looked like this (only with less associated hottness):
And then I made a bid somewhere in the thousands and Kellan [that's right. We're on a first name basis now] looked straight at me - not more than a dozen feet away in my fourth-row seat - and said "I love you." And I reacted in the way that every single-ish normal person would react. Er, yeah. Riiiiight.
Did I laugh? Nope. Say something witty? Absolutely not. I didn't flash my tits or clamber over the three rows of seats in front of mine and throw myself at his feet. Nope. Didn't do that, either.
I did nothing. I said nothing. I didn't even acknowledge it. Instead, I just sat there, frozen with some weird pained expression like I had to poop plastered on my face and then shrieked out my next bid in response.
Imma let you finish but first I just want to say - what the FUCK is up with the chubby redhead with the glasses?
I am the poster child for social fucktardedness. I'm such a total social reject that some hot famous dude told me he loved me and I had no idea how to respond so I totally ignored it.**
I think Nomness, who was sitting next to me, wanted to slap me.
The auction continued and STY, who was sitting on the other side of me, was all wild-eyed and looking pretty shell-shocked. I think a couple of times she looked at me and her lips moved but nothing came out. Or maybe my hearing had been damaged by the high-pitched wailing that was still occasionally going on. So we just continued to bid. At one point I bellowed out some random number and Kellan laughed and told me I was awesome.
Annnnnnnd blank stare. Again.
Nomness stepped in and responded for me because it was clear that I was obviously moving toward the epic side of the fail scale as far as speaking went. Nomness, who I would totally suck face with at this point because she is so awesome was also willing to pretty much empty her bank account to help us win. We loooooove her. Thanks, Nomness!
Finally, all the mayhem died down a little bit, mainly because Peter Facinelli and Kellan Lutz left the building aaaaand they started the movie.
Obviously I won't give anything away.
But it was fucking good.
In the end, we lost the auction, which we are really, completely bummed about. More on that later (we'll have more details and videos for you, we promise!) but we are not giving up. Yet. We want to sit down with Peter Facinelli (or Kellan!) and tell him how fucking cool all of you are.
** - Just in case someone decides to point out that he doesn't really love me... no-fucking-duh. Now stop shitting on my parade.