December 2, 2007
Dear Nickelodeon –
Hello! First, I just want to commend you on some brilliant programming. The fact that over the years you have had the ability to transcend cultures and age through shows about square kitchen cleaning items, saluting shorts, having to climb a giant rock-esque wall only get a piece of it in the end and a doctor gnome who rides a fox, makes me a devoted fan. Yet, while I was perusing the channels the other day I landed on a show of yours that baffled me. It is apparently called “Catdog” and in case you are unaware, it consists of a creature with a dog head on one end and a cat on the other. While I can appreciate the juxtaposition of the societal deemed enemies forced together beyond their control, there is a question that automatically sprung to mind. According to anatomy of mammals and Wikipedia, the kidney is located near the bottom of the spine and to which the water from the blood is directed. From there, it needs to excreted from the body. So, my question is, how the heck does Catdog pee?
Thanks! Looking forward to your answers.
Love,
Shannon DeVido
April 2, 2008
Dear Nickelodeon –
Hi again! I haven’t heard from you since my last letter, but I am sure you are busy. I hope everything is going well for you. I am writing because I have another question regarding this so called, “CatDog.” Now ultimately, the being had to be conceived by a dog and a cat. Does CatDog know his parents? Furthermore, did society shun them for their unconventional love? What happened to them? Did they raise CatDog together? I understand that the Greaser Dogs – Cliff, Lube, and Shriek – often rag on CatDog for being different. Did his parents offer any advice on how to overcome the torment he would potentially face over the course of his years?
Reading through the previous paragraph, it occurred to me that I suggested CatDog is a “he,” yet without the appearance of genitalia, is the sex of CatDog known?
Thanks!
Love,
Shannon DeVido
July 18, 2008
Dear Nickelodeon –
Hi again. Still haven’t heard from you, but I’m sure the letters are coming. Follow up from the previous letters. Having studied the effects of spinal cord injuries, when the thoracic and lumbar levels of the spine are jeopardized, areas of the body, including the legs and abdomen, are affected. Furthermore, in the central nervous system, neurons from the brain send signals through the spine to allow the growth and full usage of the muscles as well as the functionality of the body. Should this process be compromised in any way, the body would no longer be able to operate. Looking at the physiological makeup of CatDog, it appears he/she (I still haven’t received a proper answer on the sex of it) could possibly be joined at the spine. Is this an accurate assumption? I am concerned if he/she plays too hard, that his/her body may combust. It’s tragedy waiting to occur on television.
I’m patiently awaiting your answers.
Xoxo,
Shannon DeVido
September 1, 2008
Dear Nickelodeon –
It’s me again. Is everything okay? I haven’t heard from you and I’m concerned something bad has happened. So, while I was buying dog food for my dog Mia, it occurred to me that cats and dogs eat different foods. When buying food, does CatDog buy dog food or cat food? Also, while dogs are allergic to chocolate, cats are not. Can CatDog eat chocolate?
Thanks!
Kisses and poodles,
Shannon DeVido
December 8, 2008
Dear Nickelodeon,
Hello! Hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I’m sure you're writing me as we speak, so hopefully this will reach you before you send that letter with all my answers. The Cat side of CatDog has a crush on Tallulah, yet, as I pointed out in a previous letter, CatDog does not appear to have any genitalia. My question is more of a philosophical one. Is the origin of love in the brain? Moreover, the observation of CatDog’s love is a firm affirmation that attraction is not chosen, yet, it is a chemical reaction within the brain. Do you agree?
I can’t wait to hear from you!
Love always,
Shannon DeVido
Sunday
Monday
Thoughts from the subway
When one goes down into the subway various thoughts run through their head. I wonder what crazy people touching themselves I am going to be in close proximity to today. or Hopefully the train is running on time because I have used the excuse the train was running late one too many times this week. or the always fun... I hope I win at guess the smell today. Yet, many people do not have the thought I hope I don't get stuck in the subway, be berated by angry woman police officers, be saved by the hottest cop in NYC, only to get stuck in an elevator 20 minutes later. Luckily, my good friend Alyson and I had the pleasure of living out this rarely thought notion.
It all started at 4:00 am when we woke up to get on a train to NYC so I could walk down a hallway in an episode of Rescue Me - oh the irony. (Alyson is way too good of a friend, but you will see this more and more as the day progresses) We arrive just as the train is pulling up and on we go! We arrive to the hustle and bustle of the morning commuters all furiously scurrying to their high power office jobs. They pick up their morning coffee at the 12 Dunkin Donuts they pass and Alyson and I make our way to the subway, super hungry, because even though we awoke at the crack of freaking dawn, we somehow were running a bit late.
We go down the elevator and get onto the subway we believed was bound for my job on Roosevelt Island. (I have deemed this a place normal people should avoid. Seriously if you want to be part of NYC, push your island closer so that we can take a freaking bus to you) Sadly, we were going the wrong way. Now, normally this would not be a problem. So, we get off at an "accessible" station assuming that we could just cross over and get on the correct train, and only be a few minutes late. haha! Hold it right there. The universe said we're not making it that easy. Sorry! We get out to find the elevator is broken and this is the last accessible station. Awesome! Alyson gets on the little intercom to a lady that one can only describe as the person who applied for the greeter at the Oz door but didn't get the job and has since then had her soul sucked out by a bus Little Mermaid style. Needless to say she was the least helpful person ever and I decided to walk over and talk to the people running the subway. Now I understand that being from another country often prohibits you from understanding what I am saying to you, but looking at me like I have just pushed an old lady with a walker onto the tracks and stole her apples is not necessary. Finally they called over the two female cops that were just a joy to speak with. And when I say a joy, what I really mean is I would rather hit myself with a frying pan than speak with them again. After us explaining the situation to these two people whose job description is help people in need, they refused to help us stating it was agaist their rules. Yeah...
So Alyson goes up to make a phone call for me, and while she is up there, down the stairs came my four knights in shining... well... navy blue police uniforms. Officer McCartney (I love you... if you are reading this... I don't live far... we can make this work), Officer Alfonso, Officer Tornin and Officer Wecantrememberhisnamebuthewasverynice. After getting in a heated argument with the bitch officers, they came to the conclusion that they would carry my chair up the stairs while Alyson takes me up. How they carried it up the stairs was much like the four guys carrying the volkswagon in that Mentos commercial, minus the mentos. I will always carry mentos for these moments. (Kudos to that comparison, Aly)
7:45 am - HURRAY! We're out and ready to go down the other elevator and get to my job! We get in and yes happy reader, we get to the bottom and the door will not open. So, we try again only to get stuck 3 feet above the floor and the door now jammed. How great! Now we're stuck in the elevator. We call our soulless friend on the intercom again who does a whole lot of nothing. Down come our band of merry police officers who try to pry us out. As strong (and beautiful) as they (well, one of them) were they were unsuccessful. So, they call... The fire department! Woo! We decided that seeing as I needed to go to a hospital, if they had shot us, people would have arrived quicker and I would have gotten to my job! It was a win win... Unfortunately they did not agree. Finally 45 minutes, a few panic attacks and the game of guess the rancid smell having lost it's entertainment value later, the firefighter (in full uniform I might add) arrives! He frees us from our pee filled shack, without using his ax. (bummer...)
We get on our train, get to my job at Rescue Me (so grateful that they allowed me to work), laughed at the irony that I became the most dedicated method actor ever, vowed never to ride the subway again, became so incredibly grateful to have Alyson, ended up getting roses at SuperMac and had a great day. Still, the journey to get there was definitely not boring. Just another day in my crazy life. :)
It all started at 4:00 am when we woke up to get on a train to NYC so I could walk down a hallway in an episode of Rescue Me - oh the irony. (Alyson is way too good of a friend, but you will see this more and more as the day progresses) We arrive just as the train is pulling up and on we go! We arrive to the hustle and bustle of the morning commuters all furiously scurrying to their high power office jobs. They pick up their morning coffee at the 12 Dunkin Donuts they pass and Alyson and I make our way to the subway, super hungry, because even though we awoke at the crack of freaking dawn, we somehow were running a bit late.
We go down the elevator and get onto the subway we believed was bound for my job on Roosevelt Island. (I have deemed this a place normal people should avoid. Seriously if you want to be part of NYC, push your island closer so that we can take a freaking bus to you) Sadly, we were going the wrong way. Now, normally this would not be a problem. So, we get off at an "accessible" station assuming that we could just cross over and get on the correct train, and only be a few minutes late. haha! Hold it right there. The universe said we're not making it that easy. Sorry! We get out to find the elevator is broken and this is the last accessible station. Awesome! Alyson gets on the little intercom to a lady that one can only describe as the person who applied for the greeter at the Oz door but didn't get the job and has since then had her soul sucked out by a bus Little Mermaid style. Needless to say she was the least helpful person ever and I decided to walk over and talk to the people running the subway. Now I understand that being from another country often prohibits you from understanding what I am saying to you, but looking at me like I have just pushed an old lady with a walker onto the tracks and stole her apples is not necessary. Finally they called over the two female cops that were just a joy to speak with. And when I say a joy, what I really mean is I would rather hit myself with a frying pan than speak with them again. After us explaining the situation to these two people whose job description is help people in need, they refused to help us stating it was agaist their rules. Yeah...
So Alyson goes up to make a phone call for me, and while she is up there, down the stairs came my four knights in shining... well... navy blue police uniforms. Officer McCartney (I love you... if you are reading this... I don't live far... we can make this work), Officer Alfonso, Officer Tornin and Officer Wecantrememberhisnamebuthewasverynice. After getting in a heated argument with the bitch officers, they came to the conclusion that they would carry my chair up the stairs while Alyson takes me up. How they carried it up the stairs was much like the four guys carrying the volkswagon in that Mentos commercial, minus the mentos. I will always carry mentos for these moments. (Kudos to that comparison, Aly)
7:45 am - HURRAY! We're out and ready to go down the other elevator and get to my job! We get in and yes happy reader, we get to the bottom and the door will not open. So, we try again only to get stuck 3 feet above the floor and the door now jammed. How great! Now we're stuck in the elevator. We call our soulless friend on the intercom again who does a whole lot of nothing. Down come our band of merry police officers who try to pry us out. As strong (and beautiful) as they (well, one of them) were they were unsuccessful. So, they call... The fire department! Woo! We decided that seeing as I needed to go to a hospital, if they had shot us, people would have arrived quicker and I would have gotten to my job! It was a win win... Unfortunately they did not agree. Finally 45 minutes, a few panic attacks and the game of guess the rancid smell having lost it's entertainment value later, the firefighter (in full uniform I might add) arrives! He frees us from our pee filled shack, without using his ax. (bummer...)
We get on our train, get to my job at Rescue Me (so grateful that they allowed me to work), laughed at the irony that I became the most dedicated method actor ever, vowed never to ride the subway again, became so incredibly grateful to have Alyson, ended up getting roses at SuperMac and had a great day. Still, the journey to get there was definitely not boring. Just another day in my crazy life. :)
New BlogSpace
Hi!! Welcome to my new blogspace! The following blogs are from my myspace blogs, but look for more adventures and thoughts to come. Thanks for reading!
Kids
At 25, most females my age are thinking about having children and starting families. As I sit here at my computer, Yellowcard pop-punk fusion blasting and a picture of a the Simpson inspiring donut store as my background, I am thinking it's perhaps not where my head is located at this time. Yet, after just viewing my friend's myspace and the new pictures of her child all dressed up for Halloween the urge to have a child grew. Reason – The ability to have get free candy comes flying back into the picture. If you have a child you can go trick or treating again! Okay, yes, you have to deal with the temper tantrums, the crying, the pooping, the waking you up at 5 in the morning to tell you that they are hungry when clearly the fruit loops are sitting right on the shelf and they could go grab them but don't for God knows what reason… okay… scratch that…new plan. I will borrow my friend's children on Halloween. Here is how I see this going down... "After a long day at your 'responsible' 'grownup' real job, I'm sure the last thing you feel like doing is taking your kids door to door in the cold. I'm not doing anything tonight. Why don't I take them for you? … No, it's no trouble at all… I am that good of a friend." Then you bring an extra bag and say, "Do you mind throwing an extra piece in this bag for Suzie's (yeah, no kids are named Suzie these day…)... for Apple's younger brother Cumquat? He is home sick and we don't want to leave him out." Bag of candy for you, check! Granted you would have to go to a different development each year, but totally worth it. Plus, it's a solid reason to break out my killer Rainbow Brite costume. It's perfectly natural to feel jealous. Feel free to borrow it. I'm here to help.
Grammy Thoughts
As I sat watching the Grammys last night it left me saying, thank God the writers are returning soon because putting people through this kind of torture due to the fact that NOTHING else is on, is just flat out mean. (Side note to the lack of TV: I have become obsessed with the democratic nomination selection... I am reduced to caring about our political system. What kind of America is this...)
Yet, I produced a few thoughts, which I found extremely surprising that some existed as I felt my brain cells fleeing out my ears in horror.
1. I was perusing my rock star handbook, there are only two types of people who are allowed to wear sunglasses indoors. (Shockingly the man who wrote I wear sunglasses at night is not on the list) Those people are the ones who are blind (Stevie Wonder, Andrea Boccelli) and Bono. Even though I think one who doesn't have a grasp on speaking English and using correct grammar should be a disability, but last time I checked you still don't get to park in the good spaces. Flo Rida, I'm talking to you. Take off the glasses. You look like a moron.
2. What is the attraction to Amy Winehouse? She is nuts, her music is crap and a half, and she sounds like a man. They tried to make me listen and I said no, no, no. This is a mystery that will puzzle me for YEARS to come. I do have a theory that one of her tattoos is hypnotic and anyone that gets near her becomes entranced. It's either that or the car wreck theory. It's so horrible, but you can't look away. I will say this for her though, at least Cyndi Lauper has found a kindred spirit. They can go be insanely bizarre together.
3. I thought Herbie Hancock was a car from a Disney movie.
4. Tina Turner has the most amazing legs of any 70 year old in the universe, but was it me or did she seem to have a load in her tinfoil color spandex? Also, next time Beyonce, could you make your outfit a little shorter? It was really inconsiderate of you to think that the people in the balcony could see up your dress. Yes the entire orchestra could, but you really don't care about the people in the cheap seats.
5. Was that man in the Time playing a keytar? Oh my gosh... there is a God.
6. Finally, if Josh Groban and Andrea Boccelli sounded any better I am pretty sure they would be shipped off to "Too Talented Island." I hear it is a lot like Lost only the dialog and story lines make sense.
Yet, I produced a few thoughts, which I found extremely surprising that some existed as I felt my brain cells fleeing out my ears in horror.
1. I was perusing my rock star handbook, there are only two types of people who are allowed to wear sunglasses indoors. (Shockingly the man who wrote I wear sunglasses at night is not on the list) Those people are the ones who are blind (Stevie Wonder, Andrea Boccelli) and Bono. Even though I think one who doesn't have a grasp on speaking English and using correct grammar should be a disability, but last time I checked you still don't get to park in the good spaces. Flo Rida, I'm talking to you. Take off the glasses. You look like a moron.
2. What is the attraction to Amy Winehouse? She is nuts, her music is crap and a half, and she sounds like a man. They tried to make me listen and I said no, no, no. This is a mystery that will puzzle me for YEARS to come. I do have a theory that one of her tattoos is hypnotic and anyone that gets near her becomes entranced. It's either that or the car wreck theory. It's so horrible, but you can't look away. I will say this for her though, at least Cyndi Lauper has found a kindred spirit. They can go be insanely bizarre together.
3. I thought Herbie Hancock was a car from a Disney movie.
4. Tina Turner has the most amazing legs of any 70 year old in the universe, but was it me or did she seem to have a load in her tinfoil color spandex? Also, next time Beyonce, could you make your outfit a little shorter? It was really inconsiderate of you to think that the people in the balcony could see up your dress. Yes the entire orchestra could, but you really don't care about the people in the cheap seats.
5. Was that man in the Time playing a keytar? Oh my gosh... there is a God.
6. Finally, if Josh Groban and Andrea Boccelli sounded any better I am pretty sure they would be shipped off to "Too Talented Island." I hear it is a lot like Lost only the dialog and story lines make sense.
Staples
For those of you who know my peeve with Staples, you know this blog letter is a long time coming...
Dear Staples,
Hello. First, thank you for making a store that you can purchase a large red button that boasts the statement, "That was Easy." Solid gold. Yet, I do have a little tiff I would like to share with you. Yesterday while fastening headshots and resumes together with my fantastic purple one touch staples stapler I was miffed to find that I had run out of staples. I was required to go purchase some more. So where else would I go but to the store by the same name? As I entered the haven of office supplies with the bright red sign I expected to find a large display of staples in front of the store. Much to my dismay they were no where to be found. Um, hi, Staples, YOU ARE NAMED FOR A PRODUCT THAT CAN'T BE FOUND IN YOUR STORE! As I quickly surveyed the store, I finally found them all the way in the back in an aisle that had a light bulb missing and some unidentified liquid dripping from the ceiling. Only then to find I had a choice between a Sam's Clubs type box of 80 million staples, that even if I walked around my house stapling everything I saw together, I would never be able to use all of them OR the mini white castle burger sized box that if I only got one would make me need more within 5 minutes. Irritated I bought the giant box. Sad to report that my brother was not happy that I stapled his socks together instead of folding them, but I had to use the staples. Let me give you a little advice, "STAPLES". If I ran your store I would have a huge freaking display in the front of the store with staples in various colors and shapes with fun shaped staplers. The hole punch figured this out years ago... welcome to creativity, Staples. Nonetheless, you have inspired me. Please look for the grand opening of my new store Lamps. We are going to be your one stop shopping for books.
xoxo,
Shannon :)
New Candidate
During the writers strike and my TiVo’s lack of usage, I turned to the next best thing. I began watching a lot about the upcoming election. From the debates asking the same six questions with minimal word rearranging to the flying pie charts on CNN to the always correct internet stories and finally probably the most credible source, Comedy Central, I watched or read it all. Though my top choices seemed to bail out early (John Edwards and Steven Colbert), my support fell to the always charismatic Obama. Perhaps the best candidate in my mind, yet flawed, I began to ponder who I would vote for if I could pick the ideal candidate. Someone who could lead our country to a fruitful economy, great foreign relationships and a generally happy society free from most of the hardships we seem to have an abundance of these days. After much debate with myself and a lot of frozen yogurt, I came to a name that I feel would fulfill all these things. Santa. Yep. Santa. Wait, hear me out! Regardless of your religion, it is common consensus that he is one of the most jolly people of all time. Looking at him and not smiling or being a little happier would require a lack of soul, which would make finding those people much easier. He doesn’t falter under pressure and is very ambitious. Santa cares about the human race and only has the best interest of his people in mind. His foreign relation skills are outstanding! I’ve seen the Santa tracker. Every year he goes to every country and checks in to open arms. He is also extremely efficient and gets crap done. Not only does he finish things he sets out to do, but he surrounds himself with hard workers who are also devoted to the best interest of the people. With their little person stature, they bring diversity that is lacking in the white house. Furthermore, (and this was what sold me) his ability to know where we are at all times, see when we’re sleeping and knowing when we are awake, as well as knowing when we’ve been bad or good would be insanely helpful to the CIA. We could just show him a picture of a bad guy. Santa can say, "Yep. He’s awake, he’s in a cave in blah bliddy blah and yep, he’s been a bastard." The CIA or Military can then go in, get the little prick and the problem is solved rather than developing a huge war that destroys our economy, country moral and foreign relations. Not that anything like that has happened... Finally, with Santa comes presents!! Who doesn’t like presents? Okay, maybe those poor people that had to pay crazy high taxes on the free cars from Oprah, but on the whole, No one! I bet if you went to take a tour of the white house, you’d leave with new and exciting knowledge about our presidents and the white house...and a pony. So, in conclusion, I think Santa would be an ideal choice. He’s always dressed in a suit and while it has been suggested that he has a history of breaking and entering, no formal charges have ever been filed and he has never been convicted. Vote Santa 2008. Thank you for your time. :)
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