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Author Archive | Alison Rosen

I can't stop vlogging!

By on June 28, 2008 in pinatas, vlogs

Greetings my little tomatillos. Tonight I went to a party in the meatpacking district where they had a meat pinata—a pinata that looked like a giant steak. Any joke you can think of involving “meat pinatas,” I already made. Unfortunately they were taking their sweet ass time to beat the meat, as it were, so I never found out what was inside. I spent a lot of time wondering about it though.

Anyway, here’s another vlog where I answer some questions. If I didn’t get to yours don’t worry, this is just the beginning! (I think I miss the written word though.)

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Another vlog!

By on June 28, 2008 in vlogs

I still can’t quite figure out how I feel about vlogging versus blogging but everyone seemed to like the last one so much I figure, what the hell. You know why I figure that? Because I’m a fly by the seat of my pants kinda gal. If my butt had wings… it’d be hard to find pants.

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Wisdom from Swingtown

By on June 27, 2008 in Uncategorized

“Whatever the party is, that’s the party I’m at.”

This is something that Grant Show’s character says to… that other guy. Bruce? I forget his name. The one without a mustache who isn’t Roger. Anyway, it’s kind of poetic in its laid back mellow grooviness.

I could use more of this sentiment. I’m more like “Whatever the party is, I’d like to change it into something else or at least retain that option.”

I mean, not that I’m not the greatest party guest ever, because I am. You’d be lucky to have me at your party. I tell jokes, I mingle, I sample the snacks, I do this funny thing where I dribble water out of my mouth (note: I retired that one because it became rote, but it might be time to put it back in rotation) sometimes I even have so much fun I puke in your bathroom!

But metaphorically speaking, I keep my coat on. And literally I often do too.

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Hey look you guys! It's this again!

By on June 27, 2008 in hey look it’s me, reel, video

So we edited the reel again, again. Think of it like the kind of nose job that people get after a nose job. Like with the first one, you definitely know that they’re now sporting a different nose because they once suffered a deviated septum or had their nose broken a bunch of times (those are always the justifications. have you noticed?) but then suddenly one day their smaller nose is even smaller and more, um, “refined” which is a very nose job word. In fact, I should wear a button that says “Ask Me About Nose Jobs!” I could dangle it off the end of my unrefined nose (I just happen to know a lot about them because it was a weird teenage obsession of mine. I also know about horses and toe shoes.) Right, so anyway, this is the reel you’ve already seen but it’s been tightened and improved and sandblasted and fortified. Also, now there’s music at the end and my name lights up!

But my need to shout about every tiny change I make on this thing makes me wonder if I ever were to get plastic surgery, would I also be trumpeting that? I kind of think I would. I’m a very trumpety person. [not making any cabbage jokes. not making them. this is me not making … jesus, this is hard!]


Alison Rosen demo reel from Alison Rosen on Vimeo.

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Olfactory/auditory assault!

By on June 26, 2008 in pigeon sex, Red Eye

Tonight at the store there was a guy making this super annoying whistling chirpey sound that sounded so much like mating parakeets that I wondered if it wasn’t someone’s super annoying cell phone ring. It wasn’t though, it was a guy making this sound and it was bugging the crap out of me and made my time in the frozen foods section less than relaxing. “Seriously, with the birds, seriously?” is what I kept saying to myself while shooting looks at him and then around the aisle trying to figure out if there was any way I was actually hearing birds. I should have been saying “Seriously, James Audubon, seriously?” in my head, because that would have been more entertaining, but I always think of things to think after the fact!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Then I came home and the walk from the front door to the elevator smelled like the kind of wood shavings that are inside a hamster cage. And not fresh wood shavings. It smelled like a soiled habit-trail. And the walk from the elevator to my door smelled like wood shavings mixed with meatballs.

Now, a word or two about Red Eye. I may have said some negative things about the Verne Troyer sex tape but here’s thing: I watched it for a second and it was truly horrifying. Much moreso than you would imagine. I may have yelled “my eyes! my eyes!”

The only thing more horrifying is the picture of a cat with no face that Michelle Collins was making people look at. I refused. No faceless cats for me I said while walking around the green room holding my hands to the sides of my eyes so I wouldn’t see it. Bill and Josh were shrieking so much that I said we should film their reaction to this faceless cat and call the video “Two Girls, One Cat.”

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I'll be on red eye tonight

By on June 26, 2008 in Uncategorized

Just got finished shooting a bunch of stuff for the biography channel and now I'm on my way to red eye in car number 69. Good thing I'm too mature to point that out. (Or to poing out that this is the second time I've gotten this number. That's a missed joke quantity of 138). Anyway, clearly I'm very important. I guess that's all I have to say.

Oh and this is very last minute, this red eye, or else I'd have sent out homemade jam with little cards attached announcing this appearance. (As per my usual.) What's that? You aren't on the jam mail list? How sad! How can you preserve the appearances? Get it? (Off to shoot myself now)
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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Hey you… don't even!

By on June 25, 2008 in Uncategorized

Yeah that’s right, you… Don’t even start with me right now because I am just not in the mood. I’ve had it up to here with your sass, your lip, your guff, your backtalk, your sassafrassyness and your general indecency when it comes to things involving mustaches.

Okay, so I wasn’t going in that direction, but the word didn’t come to me fast enough so mustaches will have to do.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go study celebrities for this thing I’m doing tomorrow, but I have my eye on you, senor.

Anyone know how to make a tilda? Anyone? Little help with the fucking tilda?

Boy, I am in some mood.

Actually, the above was meant as a joke, or perhaps the beginning of a monologue to be performed in a small Latin American country, but the reason I’m in this mood is because I’m currently involved in the most retarded disagreement with someone over who blew the other one off first.

AND IT’S GETTING IN THE WAY OF MY READING UP ON JULIA ROBERTS AND MR. T.

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