Is it just me, or does this kid scare the beejeezuz out of you??
For those of you who aren't addicted to American Idol, this is Sunjaya, seemingly the early favorite to nab this year's "Contestant Who Always Lasts Much Longer Than He/She Should" title. And it's not that the kid can't sing; he actually has a fairly pleasant voice. It's just that he sings everything sotto voce and seems to move in slow motion. Something is very off about Sunjaya. That eerie state of calm...the breathy whisper...the 1.21 jigowatt smile. It's the latter that really makes me uncomfortable, because with that perma-grin on, it's almost like he's not even moving his lips when he's singing. When you put that together with the big eyes and the bony features, he kind of resembles a ventriloquist's dummy...and those things are always creepy. It's as if, just by looking directly into his eyes, he could put you into a hypnotic trance...or possibly will you to kill your parents.
Or maybe he just reminds me of Michael Jackson. Either way, I'm justifiably freaked out.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Is it just me, or does this kid scare the beejeezuz out of you??
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
It's neither a holiday nor the anniversary of the release of National Lampoon's Vacation. I'm not going on a road trip. Chevy Chase isn't dead. In spite of all this, this week's video is Lindsey Buckingham's "Holiday Road." I've been thinking about Lindsey since yesterday's discussion of the white man afro in my Oscar post. And really, do I need a reason to post a Lindsey Buckingham video? Girls, you with me on this?
Just how beautiful is Mr. Buckingham? Let me put it this way. I love Stevie Nicks, but the woman definitely had one toot too many if she suddenly woke up next to him one day and thought, "I could do better." And she probably could've, being that she was a rock goddess and all, but Mick Fleetwood? Joe Walsh? Jimmy Iovine? Don Henley wasn't a bad choice, but he still doesn't top Lindsey. And he could not pull off the white man 'fro. See pictorial evidence.
Of course, this video came from Lindsey's post-afro period, when his mane evolved into the Eraserhead or Cosmo Kramer 'do. And even though the makeup artists probably put a bit too much on him, he's still quite the hottie. What chiseled features. His face looks like it was carved outta buttah.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Last night was Hollywood's big glam extravaganza, The Academy Awards, and just like last year, I hadn't seen most of the movies that were nominated. In fact, the only nominated movie I saw this year was The Devil Wears Prada. At least I didn't say Click, right?
Since I can't really have much of an opinion on the winners and losers, I have nothing to comment on except for how everyone looked. I did this in 2006, so I'll stick with some of the same categories and throw in a few new ones.
Hottest Chick of the Night: Reese Witherspoon. Don't tell Catherine Zeta-Jones, but I think my inner lesbian was doing cartwheels at the sight of her. What a wonderful "F you" to her pouty-faced, cheating dog of an ex-husband, Ryan Phillippe, to show up at the Oscars without him, looking more beautiful than she ever did with him. Purple is my (and Prince's) favorite color, and she totally rocked that plum dress. And don't even get me started on the hair. It was glorious Goddess hair...long, thick, blonde and flowing. And those bangs! God, I'd chop Leo DiCaprio up and feed him to the pooo-wuh to have bangs like that. (Last year's winner: Uma Thurman.)
Hottest Chick Runner-Up: I'll have to give it to Kate Winslet. Again, just like last year, both of these women are just lucky that CZJ wasn't there. (Last year's winner: Jessica Alba.)
Hottest Guy of the Night: John Travolta. Hottest Guy every night! Unlike last year when I was forced to bump him to Runner-Up, his hair looked great. (Last year's winner: Matt Dillon.)
Hottest Guy Runner-Up: Robert Downey, Jr. Yes, really! The lesson we've all learned from this is that, apparently, drugs do a body good. So, just put down the milk carton. Screw it. (Last year's winner: John Travolta.)
Best Hair of the Night: Will Ferrell. God, I love him. There used to only be one white man who could pull off an afro, and that was Lindsey Buckingham. Will's chia-head put Lindsey's '70s 'fro to shame. (Last year's winner: Russell Crowe.)
Worst Dressed: Naomi Watts. Eegads. What is such a beautiful woman doing wearing some awful thrift-store Cinderella-esque rag? Ugly color, bad fit...she looked like she was going to pull a Tara Reid at any minute. (Last year's winner: Charlize Theron.)
Scariest Looking Chick: Eva Green. No idea who she is, and I really don't care to know. She looks like an extra from The Munsters. (New category)
Best Impression of a Dinner Napkin: Cameron Diaz. It's official...this girl shouldn't be allowed to dress herself anymore. She can never get it right. (New category, but she could be used to clean up the mess that was Michelle Williams' dress last year, winner of "Best Impression of a Hot Dog Topping.")
Best Impression of old Anakin Skywalker or old, fat Marlon Brando: Jack Nicholson. Scary. (New category)
Best Use of Talent that Was Wasted Last Year: Will Ferrell. I'm afraid that if Will shows up next year, he'll get stuck in a really lame skit. That seems to be the pattern that's developing. He and Jack Black killed two years ago when they sang the "unknown lyrics" to the boring-speech-wrap-up song, but then his movie makeup skit with Steve Carrell last year was a complete dud. He bounced back well this year, teaming up with Jack Black (again) and John C. Reilly for a song and dance number about how comedians can't win Oscars. As I mentioned above, it was worth watching for Will's hair alone, but the entire segment was really well done. It was the highlight of the show for me.
And finally, the "Why Does This Woman Get Invited To The Oscars When She Has No Reason For Being There Other Than Because She Showed Off Her Ass in Maxim" Award goes to....Jessica Biel. (Lisa Rinna won a similar award last year.)
On a personal note, I was the big loser at the Oscar party I attended. There were prizes for best and worst predictor, and even though I'm usually strangely good at picking the winners, I totally bombed. My booby prize? A DVD of Baby's Day Out. It can't be that bad, though. Joey Pants is in it!
Friday, February 23, 2007
It was on this day way back in 1896 that an Aussie immigrant named Leo Hirschfield introduced the world to the Tootsie Roll. No, not the dance - the little confectionary treat that looks like feces. In fact, I think I that "Tootsie" is Australian for "Kangaroo turd," which is a popular Aboriginal apres-dinner treat. Looks like shit, but the taste is bonzer.
This is an important day in history for me because I love candy. My hips might tell you that I love it a bit too much and, according to Shakira, hips don't lie. Well, she's wrong. My hips (and abs...and thighs) are constantly trying to tell me that I'd be happier snacking on rice cakes and carrots instead of Swedish Fish and chocolate. I can't believe I have to put up with such dishonesty from my body parts.
Back from the self-depracating tangent in 3...2...1...
Tootsie Rolls are fabulous, but whoever came up with the idea of putting them in Pop form was the true genius. Tootsie Pops (especially raspberry...drool) may very well be my all-time favorite candy. Shakira and all the health nuts out there should be happy to know that they are also one of the healthiest candies, relatively speaking, with which to satisfy those sweet cravings. They're low in calories, non-fat, and you can suck on them for a long time; thus extending your candy consuming process, appeasing those pesky oral fixations and possibly preventing a full-on binge. Of course, I have been known to "chain-pop," but only on rare occasions. You know, weekends, holidays, full moons, Must See TV nights...that sort of thing.
So, I totally understand these women...some of my homegirls from Pittsburgh. (No surprise.) I can't think of any better reason to have children than to wait for them to reach school-age and then pilfer all of their fundraising candy. Are they thieves? Well, yeah. But, come on. Motherhood is stressful! Give them a break. And break 'em off a piece of a few hundred dollars worth of Kit Kat bars.
These guys, on the other hand, need to be put away. Ruining perfectly good chocolate bars in the name of drug smuggling? If these dudes were smart, they'd give up the heroin game and start selling pure corn syrup.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
I was at the bar with some friends last night (yes, I know it was Monday but give me a break, it was my birthday!) and as we were leaving, I heard this song and knew immediately that it would be my video today. It's an underappreciated song by one of the more underrated artists of the '80s: "Like to Get to Know You Well" by Howard Jones.
I can't hear this song and not picture the scene from Better Off Dead where John Cusack and Diane Franklin, the ubiquitous, curly-haired fantasy girl of all teen boys in the '80s, got to know each other well by working on an old car. What a great movie. Howard Jones should have written a tune called "I Want My Two Dollars." E.G. Daily could have sung it at the prom. That paper boy really deserved his own theme song.
Monday, February 19, 2007
My creativity is waning. That's really the best title I could come up with for this post.
So, everyone knows by now that Britney Spears is a big baldy. Is it just me or does she kind of look like Justin Timberlake's evil twin now?
I'm not going to spend too much time on this topic because A. I'm at work, B. It's my birthday, bitches, and C. I'm already two days behind the times, so why knock myself out? I was at the bar on Saturday night when I heard the news. I don't have one of those Crackberries, so I couldn't hurry up and scoop Perez Hilton. Plus, I was convinced that the pictures were doctored and that the whole thing was a hoax. My first instinct is to dismiss everything as complete bunk. The older I get, the less trusting I become.
Anyway, who knows what Brit's problem is these days. Now that she's gone Sinead O'Connor on us, every pyschotherapist is coming out of the woodwork to throw their two cents into any news story in the "Has Britney gone crazy?" vein. She has post-partum depression. She's tired of her image. She's on drugs. She's a good old- fashioned attention whore. Maybe she's just a big Chris Daughtry fan? Who knows? The conjecture is non-stop. Does it really matter? She's bald and we get to point and laugh at her. Occasionally she does give the people what they want.
My theory on why she shaved? She just wanted the carpet to match the drapes. It's important to have a matching set if you're going to be running all over town pantiless.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Howard Stern, who has been divorced from long-time (and long-suffering) wife, Alison for about 7 years, has always maintained that he would never tie the knot again. He must have tacked on an Unless-I-Snag-A-Really-Hot-Younger-Model clause to that declaration, because he just popped the question to his girlfriend of 5 years, Beth Ostrosky.
Howard decided to propose on Valentine's Day Eve instead of the actual holiday, just narrowly avoiding a trip to Cliche City. Of course, the rest of his proposal was certainly anything but traditional, making Beth strip down to nothing before even giving her the ring. Then he said the words that would make any gal's heart melt, "I love you. You're everything to me. This is so gay...I'm asking you to spend the rest of your life with me."
The lameness of that proposal aside, I wish Howard and Beth luck. I was amazed that his first marriage lasted so long, and even though he's made a living from being a giant pig, he actually always seemed like a decent guy who's a one-woman man and doesn't screw around. And Beth is a Pittsburgh girl, so if anyone can keep him in line, she can.
Hmm, so Howard Stern can find two wives and I can't even seem to find one date in the biggest city in the country. Happy Valentine's Day to me! I'm not bitter. Just bored. These fake Hallmark holidays make me cringe.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Nope, I still have no home internet access yet. And if I get caught blogging at work, they'll cut off my hand. Really. So just be patient and enjoy the videos that I'm still managing to post every week.
This is "Let My People Go-Go" by The Rainmakers. I haven't thought of this band in a long time, and they just popped into my head now. I remember that when I first saw this video, I thought these guys were kind of weird and annoying. Then my brother got a couple of their records and I ended up really liking them. They were another one of those cool bands that seemed to be respected by a lot of folks, but never really went anywhere. I don't think they're still together, but they have a MySpace page...as everyone does.
And, as a bonus, here's another Rainmakers vid, "Downstream," which is a better song, in my opinion. I always remember the line "God is an Indian giver, I don't trust nothing but the Mississippi River." Technically, if you believe in God, you believe that He made the Mississippi River, so that really makes no sense. But let's not split hairs. It's still a cool line and a groovy song.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Brace yourselves for the shocker, kids. Anna Nicole Smith is dead. Someone at work told me just five minutes ago and I thought it was a hoax. However, this one's true.
A cause of death hasn't been determined yet, but apparently Smith died after collapsing today in a Florida hotel. This comes on the heels of her son's mysterious death, which was later found to be drug-related, yet accidental. I can't imagine a woman Anna's age just dropping dead for no reason, but you never know.
Being the suspicious type, I wouldn't be surprised if her death ended up being TrimSpa related. I don't trust any of those diet drugs. I knew a guy who took Xenadrine, and he said it made him feel like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. I worked at GNC when they were nearly put out of business by the Ephedra scare. It's bad stuff. I've been struggling to shed some pounds, but I would never go that route.
Whatever the cause, I'm not making any jokes about Anna's untimely death. She really is quite a strange, tragic figure. I suppose she went out in similar fashion to her idol, Marilyn Monroe. I just feel sad for the daughter whose paternity is still in question and who will now have to grow up without a mother.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
I'm making this a Two-fer Tuesday, since I feel a bit guilty about my recent lack of blogging. Sorry, but moving has made me tired and I don't have internet service set up at home yet, so I don't have that many opportunities to write or visit your blogs. But, I shall return full-force soon enough.
For some reason, I thought I'd go with a couple of "artsy" bands from the '80s that could teach these shoegazing kids of today a thing or two about staying appropriately cool and detached without becoming whiny. Enjoy these two gems from the forefathers of Emo. Let's call them...Glemo. (Glam+Emo)
"Head On" by The Jesus and Mary Chain
"Desire" by Gene Loves Jezebel
Friday, February 02, 2007
Yo, fatso...I was sleeping.
Happy Groundhog Day, everyone! You know, way back in 1887 when Punxsutawney Phil became the world's premier weather prognosticator, I'm sure the Puritan settlers had no idea that their "holiday" would evolve into the perfect excuse for local college kids to hang out all night in a freezing cold field, drunk off their asses (not that college kids need an excuse to drink) and for adults to take a day off work.
I got to experience the spectacle of Groundhog Day during my junior year in college. It's insane. People come from miles around just to catch a glimpse of weird guys in formal attire pestering a highly sedated furball who knows as much about meteorology as I do. There were more people at Gobbler's Knob that day than I've seen at some concerts. There is no way that the folks standing all the way in the back could possibly even see Phil. But as soon as the handlers pull him out of his fake tree-stump home, the whole crowd just goes nuts. By their reaction, you'd expect to see a re-animated John Bonham playing with the reunited Led Zeppelin. But no, it's just a marmot.
I didn't stick around Punxsy afterwards, but I've heard that the town just shuts down like it's Christmas. There is a huge parade and then a three-day party or something nuts like that. All to worship a fuzzy, buck-toothed rodent. He's like a God. I suppose that if reincarnation exists, coming back as one of PA's many Phils is just one step below Nirvana.
If you don't happen to live in or around Punxsutawney, you're probably stuck at work right now, just like me. Since you can't get this holiday off, fritter your day away by reading all about Phil and the origins of Groundhog Day at the official Groundhog site. You may not be able to pull up the page due to heavy traffic. If that's the case, try this fun little exercise instead:
1. Curl up in a ball under your desk.
2. Pretend to sleep.
3. Scurry out into the middle of the floor.
4. Look for your shadow in the fluorescent lighting.
4. Crawl around the office, yelling out weather predictions.
5. Go back under desk.
6. Repeat until it's quitting time, or until they send you home.
And if your alarm clock was playing "I Got You Babe" when you woke up this morning, you may be in for a loooong day.