The First Post - Age Old Question

So I have been advised by a few folks that I should begin keeping a blog. Why with projects releasing and all plus apparently I occasionally say an amusing thing or two on Twitter so I figured why not give it a whirl? I apologize in advance for any typos, gramatical errors, etc but frankly it's too late and I have too much Trader Joe's wine in me to pay much a mind. Besides, you're here now you might as well put up with it.

Now I'm not a blogger by any means. I mean, I once kept a livejournal as a kid but that's the sort of thing you write in sobbing about the boyfriend you've never had while listening to Snow Patrol with Neopets going in the other screen. What? That was just me. Oh well... Moving on.. So with me not being a blogger the next question became what do I write about? Furthermore: What will my first post be about? The answer came from, well, you guys or rather the question.

I've been performing for a number of years and I get a lot of questions after improv shows, theater productions, films I'm in (or write), etc.. But there is one question I get more than any other: "Leah you sexy Mutha Effa.." (I may have exagarated some here) "Why do you want to fight Josh Groban? By the way your butt is looking mighty fine in those jeans..." (Also may have indulged a little here). Well... For once I will try to answer this question as best I can!..

Let me begin with how it all started. Like most things it began innocently enough: I was pantsless on stage (this is actually true) and we were doing some kind of scene. I don't remember exactly what kind because on stage doing improv I experience what I call 'blackouts' where I tend to forget what I said or did until after when people quote it back to me (which is how I remember this). I imagine this is what people experience when taking ecstacy or too many Flinstone Vitamins but anyways... It was a group scene and everyone was listing off people who they hated. The jist of the responses went like this:

"Satan."

"My boss." 

"My abusive mother." (Note.. Should probably talk to this improv partner later.)

"Hitler."

And then it got to me. Now I am told I really didn't pause but I imagine my inner monologue went a little something like this:

"Crap I'm the last one. They're going to take all the good ones. People I hate people I hate... Damn I'm kind of hungry. Wonder if there's a Taco Bell near this venue. Maybe. I think so. I think someone had a taquito in the green room. Man I can't believe I had my first taco my sophmore year of colllege. That's really sad.. Oh crap! Two people have gone already. I know I'll say my mother! SHIT. He just said that. Damnit damnit damnit. What do I say? Aw man.. My parents are going to be so disappointed with me. I should have went to school for accounting or something. Not acting. What a dumbass... JOSH GROBAN."

Silence. Wouldn't you know it? Big laugh. No idea why it came out. But it did. And people loved it. It became a running gag throughout the set. After the show I was asked about it by audience and teammates alike. Had NO idea what to tell them at the time. Thought it was over and done. Next show?.. People still bringing it up. Which I wasn't unhappy about. It was fun! It soon became a running joke for the next 3 years at whatever comedy style show we did that I was a part of we'd reserve a seat for Josh Groban and of course he'd never show (How could he? He never actually knew about it!). And so the joke stayed alive..

Really it should have ended there but after a few shows I actually found myself becoming annoyed with the Grobmeister. Why? Because he wasn't showing up and I had somehow managed to convince myself that by some kind of magic one day he'd come through the backdoor and be all "Hey guys! I was just singing an opera or something in my trendy glasses and I heard you were waiting for me. WELL I'M HERE!" But of course he was never there and so this joke morphed further after a show intro an audience member suggested that I fight him. Well, you always 'Yes And' in improv so here we are... And now finally here are the reasons that I have compiled of why I want to fight Josh Groban...

WHY I WANT TO FIGHT JOSH GROBAN

 

TEN

He's TOO nice. Nobody is this nice all of the time. There's no way. Now I'm not saying Grobster has a massive plot to enslave all humanity so he can rule us with assistance from his carefully bred army of Wheaton Terriers and Chinchillas but... Think about it, will you FBI? You've already thwarted so many plots already. Let us not forget Clay Aiken.

 

NINE

He has friends in high places who I am sure would back him up if not provide a venue. I would be MORE THAN WILLING to do a tag team match if it makes him feel better. I have already suggested a Him/Adam Levine and Kal Penn/Me throwdown (without asking ANY of them about it) and have heard nothing back.

 

EIGHT

It's been 5 years. Lets do this already or it's going to be like every other 'will they won't they' scenario and it'll be built up so much that by the time we do we'll both be disappointed. Come on Grobtastic: Lets punch each other while the punching is good.

 

SEVEN

He's the kind of a guy after a huge brawl you could bring home to mom. At which point my mother would probably hit on him. My mom doesn't do these things. Grobexual is evil and makes her do these things.

 

SIX

I'm fairly certain that I could take him. I may be on the short side and he has the height advantage (plus being a dude) but I feel like he's too respectful to hit me anywhere except on the sides and even then he'd feel bad. I have too many areas he would blush or feel bad hitting: Womanly region, face, more womanly regions, etc whereas he's kind of an open book that I just want to spill coffee all over. There's this weird double standard where guys are just like don't hit below the belt but I will go there if I feel threatened. I'm like that dinosaur from Jurassic Park that spits in that guy from Seinfeld's face or Pumkin from Flavor of Love. I'll go there. Furthermore I am spry and am not ticklish. Grobercleveland has very little options here.

 

FIVE

Dude is talented. Boy can SANG. And naturally, as Americans, we must squash anyone with talent and make them huddle in a corner sobbing until they are brought down to such a level that they have to appear on Dancing With The Stars or Celebrity Wife Swap.

 

FOUR

 

Bro kind of looks like Ben Folds. This has nothing to do with anything but I just wanted to point this out.

 

THREE

Dude had the NERVE to tweet me on Christmas Eve about the fight saying 'It'd look like I win'. How DARE he have confidence in me. Furthermore how DARE he mention said fight but then not set up a facebook event to arrange it (as all things, including babyshowers, are now arranged). Are you saying that our fight isn't as important as a new life Grobtini? ARE YOU?! Also.. JOSH GROBAN RUINED MY CHRISTMAS.

 

TWO

We could cuddle after. It's common knowledge that nothing makes a good, raw fight like gentle cuddling after. If all enemies (fake and real) cuddled there'd be a lot less trouble in the world. I cordially invite everyone over to Grobbles house post fight to watch Wimbledon (the movie) and cuddle.

 

ONE

NOBODY hates this guy. I mean, legit, nobody. Grobster is the guy no one seems to have an issue with. In a culture that tends to focus and be driven so much by opinion we often hear "OH I LOVE ____" or "I HATE ____". With Grobstein it's "OH I LOVE HIM" or "He seems cool..." or "Eh he's funny but I have no idea what he does." He's America's sweetheart. He is the equivalent to a male Julia Roberts. Dude could kick a bunch of kittens, claim they kicked him first, and get away with it. I LIKE HIM. 

And for this reason above all.. I must kick his butt.

 

Beyonce knows what I'm talking about here...

 

 

So there you have it. I hope that I covered everything and answered most of your inquiries on this matter. I hope you can also appreciate how many nicknames I gave Josh Groban and how good this Trader Joe's wine is. I'd live there if I could.

 

-Leah

 

(Written AND Dictated... But Only To Myself)

 

 

 

 

**Author does not actually hate Groban... She thinks.