Thursday, September 27, 2007

That Leaked Boudoir Pics of Celebrities Blog


I think this marks Day 5 or some shit of these Shaw auditions. Today, so I'm told, is the day that they see all the non-union swill that was lucky enough to make the cut. So it's a lot of fresh theatre school grads/kids who are still in theatre school who are nervous as all get-out and, so I'm told, have little to no control of their bowels. So I'm told, they zip into the bathroom before they're slated to audition and evacuate their bowels hastier than New Orleans a half-day before Katrina touched down. BADDA-ZING!

So I'm told.

What's been extra-special about today is that a slew of people I know from Queen's are in today, most importantly of all, the divine Robin Willis, pictured to the left, to the left... So talented I can't stand it, I pulled her into my cell/office and had a chat that was both hearty and heady. She's currently based in New York and is taking the shit by storm - because she got dual ci'izenship... lucky... and it's because her father was a draft dodger back in the bad old days. Talk about the fucking best of both worlds... wow...

Another silver lining to the scene out of the movie "Fame" that is today is, of course, early 20-something musical theatre fags are pretty much my bread, butter and marmolade so I've been making eyes at them all day entirely unsure about what I'm hoping to accomplish by doing so. Like, do I think I'm going to have some shenanigoats with one whilst held up in my mental hospital cell-of-a-workplace? It would certainly liven things up around here, that's for sure. I'm actually considering bringing in a Sudoku puzzle tomorrow. Considering.

I'm totally making eyes with one right now - THIS VERY SECOND - as I type this. He's warming up. Like stretching... getting limber... I'll bet he is. Yeah, this is totally gonna happen. Ohhhh there he goes... well, we'll see.

Did you enjoy that real-time blogging? Should I do it more? Mayhaps.

K... a haute topic of sorts...

For the life of me, I cannot fathom what drives people to take private pictures of themselves in compromising situations in the first place. Naturally, don't get me started on people who take said photos of themselves then share it with others, particularly in a digital format. Finally, don't even get me started on those people who do this that are celebrities. DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED.

The phenomenon arguably began with Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy fame when his T-Mobile was hacked and private picks he took of his schlong were leaked for all the world to see. And see them all the world did - he became a household name and poster boy for candid self-photography gone awry.

Since then, countless celebrities have fallen victim to leaked personal photos that have been taken with a mobile device... which is presumably the only reason that mobile devices are equipped with camera or video... to send pornish shit back and forth and hope for the best... I remember I got sent something once by this dude I met... like the night of... I got a video from him - for that pocket of you who know my dating history, you'll have heard him referred to as "Pier 1" for reasons that are pretty straightforward - but it was during the days that I was sporting that little LG number that I'm quaintly sure was the first flip phone ever invented - with green screen to boot! - so I couldn't see it. Still... anyway...

Why do people do this? I assume it's rooted in exhibitionism... I also assume that committing one's self to digital image is also subconsciously intended not for posterity but indeed so it'll be shared/leaked. Like, does anyone actually think it'll be kept sacrosanct by the receiver? I'm talkin' to YOU, generously buttocked Fantasia Barrino (pictured in hacked cell phone photos, to the left, to the left)...

Anyballs, two particularly high-profile leaked personal photo scandals that have caused quite a controversy of late are those of teen queen Vanessa-Anne Hudgens and boxing luminary Oscar De La Hoya...

Hudgens is, for those of you with lives/who don't know, one of the stars of Disney's breakout smash hit "High School Musical" and long-time g-fry of "It"-boy du jour, Zac Efron. Nude photos were leaked of of someone reported to be her, but not really resembling her. I didn't think they were real - I thought they were just some wonky faced skank with an obscenely full bush that looked nothing like her. And it wasn't just me who shared this perspective... every gossip blog, infotainment program and celebrity weekly also held down a fair share of skepticism about the legitimacy of the photos as well... and then in a stroke of sheer genius, Hudgens' camp CONFIRMED that the photos were indeed real and expressed her chagrin that they were released - which, really, was just their way of saying "we're sorry that her bush was so unkempt when they were released" 'cuz shit, it was indeed a pizza slice of a pubis. [Sidebar: Whose parents let their teenage daughter own lingerie like that? Do you wanna just sell her into white slavery in Bolivia now or later?]

Anyway... SCANDAL!!! Apparently she was only 17 when these pictures - allegedly taken for then-boyfriend and associate teen sensation Drake Bell - were taken, which makes them illegal... well, barely illegal if you choose to see the glass as half-full.

Some people seem to think that she leaked them herself in an effort to emancipate herself from the cover of "Bop" and teen queen vehicles onto the cover of "Maxim" and into the ever-seductive young Hollywood scene. I refuse to believe that because again, holy balls, her bush is ROBUST. I'm entirely serious people - that pizza slice is BARELY covering it.

On the flip side: Oscar De La Hoya. Photos reportedly showing De La Hoya in a fishnet onezie and other trannylicious ecoutrements surfaced recently - which are, I'm sorry, TOTALLY of him - and his camp issued a statement saying that they were 'convincing fakes'. (Click HERE for a larger version).

BULL. SHIT. As someone acquainted with photoshop, I'd love to see the exhaustive forensic reports proving their fraudulence. The pictures were allegedly taken by an exotic dancer ladyfriend of his (read: 2-cent whore), who explained to Access Hollywood that they were stolen from her by someone with malicious intent to exploit De La Hoya.

My personal favourite is the one with him in the boxing gloves. It's like he put those on to make sure that there would be absolutely no mistaking that it was him. It'd be like Vanessa Hudgens shaving "High School Musical" into the rain forest that is her bush. And believe me, she may well could have.

So ya got a full bush and you wanna show it off to your teenage bf? So ya like to wear stripper's clothes and boxing gloves? Gabba gabba hey, live ya life - that's what I say... but WHY DO PEOPLE FEEL THE NEED TO TAKE THESE PICTURES OF THEMSELVES?! It's just beyond me.

Anyballs... before I go for the weekend I thought I'd throw one more onto the pile for you... not to be outdone, here's viral video sensation and emo Britney super-fan Chris Crocker whipping out his vagina for the world to see...

If you're brave/into shemales go here for the NSFW version...

I hope you're weekend is a fucking zen pleasure.

Smell ya later,

--- Aj

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Haute Topics


Okay, sorry about the no postage yesterday. I'm actually held up in a white room sorting out blueprints. A friend from Queen's, Stacey, is down the hall running the auditions for Shaw that are STILL ONGOING (but thankfully, less obnoxious. The bitches are still coming in off the street wearing character shoes and being forceably outgoing, but they've ceased the warmups... knock on wood...) and I brought her in to see where I'm working today and what I'm doing. We agreed that it looks like I'm in solitary confinement in a mental hospital. A fact made that much clearer when I started to sing "Come To My Window" by Melissa Etheridge. Just call me Juliette Lewis... fuck...

Okay... SO much to talk about and here's hopin' I can get it in before my bosses come back from lunch and shun me off to my cell for the duration of the afternoon...


Let me walk you through my yesterday as it pertains to this situation...

I haul my reluctant-yet-hot ass into work yestermorning where I proceed to work hard for the money and insist that in turn, they better treat me right when all of a sudden I receive a facebook wallpost by one Miss Dini Dimakos expressing her condolences for the departure of Maya Rudolph from SNL.

Knee jerk, me: "Dat bullshit. I've read a press release saying the entire 06-07 cast was back in its entirety." Prompt reply, Dini D: "No. Horrifying truth. Go to Dlisted" (which I do basically every second of the day but for some reason it had eluded me this particular morning). I do. I'm redirected to where they confirm that indeed, Maya has flown the coop. I promptly posted this link on my dear co-fag and co-Maya superfan Anth telling him it's "best he hears this from me".

Me = DEVASTATED. I can't even tell you. I was so forlorn, I actually did work. And I was in a funk the rest o' the livelong day, let me tell ya. Even more devastating is that she'd be departing to join the long, long, LONG list of talented female SNL alumni who have virtually no afterlife following their stint on SNL (I'll be blogging about that exact topic Friday). Honestly, it was like a loved one had died. Terrible.

Flash forward to around 6:45 Post Meridian, I gets a message from dear co-fag Anth saying that the link I posted on his wall did not lead to a story saying that she was leaving but instead a story saying that she was instead staying... Curious... I receive another call from busom bestie Yerxa elatedly-nay-JUBILANTLY proclaiming "She's staying! She's staying!".

And that's all she wrote. Last minute negotiations came through and she decided that in the end "as a mother and as an actress it was the best choice" to stay with the show. A lot of people are taking this as code that "they offered her more money". I happen to think it's the opposite... she wanted more... they wouldn't give it to her, and then she conceded... but that's neither here nor there...

Anyway - I'm basically elated that she's back. Basically. It's a huge shit deal to me and mine. We'll be having a viewing party this weekend when the season premiere hosted by LeBron James and musically guested by Kanye West bows, and it will be festive.

To celebrate Maya's return, and also because I have an edition of "Signature Look" in this blog, let's all enjoy her turn as Tunay Griggs... KALOOH KALAY!


Free speech? Or giving the enemy a no-strings-attached HJ for publicity?

I'm more inclined to agree with the latter...

As you may well have heard by now, Iran's president Mahmoud Ahmadinjad visited the venerable Columbia University on Tuesday in an effort, to, I don't fucking know, bring sexy back to Iran in the eys of the US or something.

No. He addressed Iran's nuclear capacity, didn't address his denial of the holocaust and/or why he wants to obliterate Israel and in what will no doubt go down in the history books, denied homosexuality existing in Iran, claiming, "In Iran we don't have homosexuals like in your country. We do not have this phenomenon. I don't know who told you that we have it."

Yeah... how was this man allowed to set foot on US soil and not arrested is really the first issue... a lot of people make the analogy that this is like giving Adolph Hitler the podium. The Free Speech enthusiasts assert that it's important to hear his side of things in order to understand.

I'm sorry - there is no other fucking side of things when it comes to radical Islam and a . There is nothing to be empathetic about here - all there is, is a bunch of oppressive, psychotic code that serves an elite few.

A lot of people laugh off his denying the existence of the homosexual 'phenomenon' in Iran as if he's an Ostrich with his head in the sand. Yeah, it's a little more destructive than that. The reason that homosexuality doesn't exist in Iran is because those who are aren't out and those who do 'practice' it are sought out and killed! It's just maddening.

Bottom line is that the line that separates free speech and pure evil is about as fine as a gorilla's pube (read: it's not fine. It's rather thick, distinct and coarse) and this man should have been arrested.

Happier topics...


On the set of the upcoming "Sex & The City" movie where she plays Carrie's assistant, Louise:

Fancy that,

--- Aj

Monday, September 24, 2007

big whoop! who gives a bibble? gabba gabba hey.

Crikey. (what does that even mean?)

'Sup? Not much on my end. Sorry this is coming so late - I had precisely 0.0 time to blog today at work, as I've been held up in a barren room that is completely barren except for the fact that it has gigantic roll upon gigantic roll of blueprint drawings that I'm to be cataloguing right now and yeah... it sucks... but whatever.

Salt in that wound is that Shaw festival auditions continue down the hall from where I work, and I guess today they were seeing every quirky soprano the city had to offer. Gah it drives me nuts. Three things, as a rule, that these chicks have in common:

1.) They all wear character shoes. Yep. Like right off the street. And they ain't dancin' today. For those of you who don't know what 'character shoes' are, I'll enlighten... they're the traditional footwear for female performers in musical theatre - unless you'ze a ballerina or a Pussycat Doll, you're most likely wearing character shoes - a sturdy 3-inch closed-toe heel that looks like something you could picture a stenographer, or mayhaps mimeographer, named Geraldine in the 1950's wearing. Yeah. Anyway - these bitches wear them right in off the street.

2.) If I pass one of them in the hall or in the elevator, they're all so forceably outgoing and dole out these really contrived pleasantries because they think I'm working the auditions or something. GAH! Drives me nuts!

3.) They all do the gayest vocal warmups in the hall like it's not annoying. Yeah. They walk around doing scales while puckering their lips (like making a fart noise, only prolongued and to a melody) and I'm like "I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE NOT WARMED UP!!! YOU LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE!!!".

Said it before, gonna say it again - GAH!

Anyway - this past weekend. Hum dinger, let me tell ya.

I didn't think that I was going to go out this weekend at all seeing as I was so rife with disease, but thankfully I have horrible friends who only live for today and care about their own enjoyment far more than my physical well-being. Jesting. They'z good people. But yes - me not going out on Saturday would not be tolerated.

So I did. Buddies, natch. Where something called ArtHouse is currently going on. Because of this, there was a box on stage. A BOX. Yeah. Well, a frame of sorts. And it was just left on there, inviting catastrophe if y'ask me.

People started to filter on in - the most notable burst being a gaggle of students who couldna been more than 19. It was clearly some floor's night out at some Ryerson residence, which was just fantastic. It made me feel old. Estelle Getty-stylez old. No matter.

Along for the ride this particular evening was the increasingly entertaining Heidi Brander - who's just so much fun I can't handle it. Here she is. Pictured. To the left, to the left.

Apparently so taken with this box, Heidi attempted to run up the side of it a-la Jackie Chan/Super Mario/this dude in the video for Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up" (at precisely 2:47):

Does anyone else feel the almost-uncontrollable need to do a shot-by-shot reenactment of that video sometime in the VERY near future? Because sister, let me tell ya, I do. Wow.

Anyway... dancing inside the box has become a reasonably popular destination by mini-gays all over the place, and shinanigoats are ensuing... people are rocking the box, hitting the box, boxing the box, and bouncers are taking the stage each and every time.

Not to be outdone, Heidi attempts to do run up the side of the box for reasons known only to her. This didn't bode well with the bouncers, but really, what the fuck were they expecting? THERE WAS A BOX ON THE STAGE AND EXUBERANT YOUTH RIGHT, LEFT & CENTRE!!! Meh... anyway, in lieu of the angry bouncer, Heidi fleetly flee'd the scene like - as Yerxa brilliantly put it - Delores Van Cartier in "Sister Act" to the bathroom. That's where the bouncer's found her, conducting a chorus of misbegoten gay youth "I Will Follow Him". The similiarities betwixt Heidi and Whoopi abound. Sheesh.

Yeah... I know that's the second one of my friends that I've photoshopped into Whoopi Goldberg's habit, Dana quite gloriously being the first. But I'm going to tell ya right now... it really beat the first idea I had to photoshop Heidi as a black chick which, I will include simply because I don't believe in letting my efforts go to waste.

Art? Or simply a modernized take on black-face? YOU decide!

I promise more interesting fare tomorrow...

--- Aj

Friday, September 21, 2007

Sex & The City: The Movie: The Blog

Well Wowzers McGee everybody!

It's Friday and I'm no longer feeling like death. Hooray! I'm by no means back to m'usual piss & vinegar-filled self, but by no means the walking Nyquill commercial I've been for the past three days. So yay for that.

Yay for what else? THIS!

Yes... some of the first on-set photos from the upcoming "Sex & The City" movie!!!

How excited are you?! I'm so very happy that them S&TC broads worked out their differences before this project became embarassingly late... I mean, yeah, it's a little after the fact but not so after the fact that they'ze the Golden Girls... the show that I've always maintained - SINCE DAY MOTHERFUCKING 1 - was the sequel, prequel and equal to S&TC.

Anyway... as the shot to the left, to the left clearly makes evident, Charlotte indeed gets pregnant. Some consider this a spoiler but I always knew it was in the cards. As an avid watcher of The View, I can remember Kristin Davis guesting shortly after S&TC ended to promote, I don't know, "The Shaggy Dog" movie or some bullshit, and of course S&TC came up. They spoke about their disappointment in that Charlotte never got pregnant before the series ended and she let it slip that in the then-proposed movie script, Harry & Charlotte go to China to get their Chinababy and she discovers that she's pregnant. SO BAM. I knew it was coming.

It's confirmed that besides all the ladies, Chris Noth will reprise his role of Mr. Big, the delicious Jason Lewis will be back as Smith, the Jewtastic Evan Handler will be back as Harry Goldenblatt, and David Eigenberg will be once again stepping into Steve's sensible loafers. Of particular interest, one Miss Jennifer Hudson will be joining the crew as Carrie's assistant, Louise - which is terribly exciting! Details are pretty scant about who else might appear, and considering the wealth of characters S&TC saw come and go, it's anyone's guess who might show up!

So, in anticipation for the Sex & The City Movie and because it's Friday and that's a day I usually reserve for countdowns... Here's my Top 10 Bit Characters from Sex & The City I hope make appearances in the film!!!


WHO:From the "Frenemies" episode. After Samantha fucks Charlotte's brother and Charlotte goes all prudy on her ass, Samantha psychologically retaliates by finding sluttier company in vacationing Southern Belle/scarf connoisseur Claire-Anne. That is, until Claire-Anne out-sluts Samantha by ravenously gobbling on some dude's cock in the middle of the restaurant whilst they're on a double date.
ODDS OF RETURN: I won't hold my breath. 80-1.


WHO: Too close to call. From "Hot Child In The City" and "Cock-A-Doodle Doo", respectively. Jenny Briar (played by Kat Dennings, who you've probably seen in those previews for that movie "Charlie Bartlett" and been like "who is that teen actress and why do I find her so slutty?"... there's your answer) was a filthy rich and richly filthy JAP-y teen who wanted Samantha to do the PR for her bat mitzvah. Her and her skanky teenage entourage and their overprivelaged, cum dumpster-y ways made Samantha feel secure in the fact that she had a childhood. The loud Tranny Whores (played by, fuck, I don't know, I'd have to imagine real Tranny whores) claimed their turf right outside of Samantha's window in the Meat Packing District (tragic irony), and after several heated arguements and the throwing of things, learned to co-exist both peacefully and fabulously.
ODDS OF RETURN: Tranny Whores - 100-1. I'm sure in reality they've been murdered/married off and living a lovely life in suburban New Jersey by now. Jenny Briar - 20-2. She's all grown up now and in all liklihood has risen to the near-top of the New York Gorss-cialite world. It could happen.


WHO: From the episode "One", the performance artist who's going without sleep, food, bathing or speaking for an amount of time that escapes me right now and the catalyst for Carrie meeting Alexandr Petrovsky.
ODDS OF RETURN: 40-1. It would be a clever callback in some sort of frantic search/chase scene to have someone run into a museum looking for someone and that bitch is still there. I'd appreciate it. Or not... meh...


WHO: Played by the incomparable Candy Bergen and appearing in a slew of episodes, Enid was Carrie's editrix at "Vogue" - clearly not portraying the Anna Wintour figure as Anna Wintour herself was made mention of in an episode - Enid's perhaps-most memorable line? From "Plus One Is The Lonliest Number"... when Enid sees her pseudo-boyfriend at the party, she's heard to remark "I am so angry right now." A delightful callback to what Samantha is told she'd have to say to substitute for visible emotion after getting botox.
ODDS OF RETURN: 15-1. We'll see if they can pony up with the Candy Bergen dollars.


WHO: Charlotte's ex-mother-in-law and for all intensive purposes the Newman to Charlotte's Seinfeld, Bunny was a deeeeelightful foil! Played to perfection by Frances "I Can't Believe She's Still Alive!" Sterhagen, Bunny represented all that I hope to be true about archaic New York socialites! Well, mainly that they have ridiculous names like Bunny. Does anyone remember that episode where Bunny's telling Charlotte that her chrysanthemums are sure to beat Waxy O'Hanahan's this season in the annual Hampton's flower-off or some shit? "Waxy O'Hanahan"? AMAZING! Why the fuck couldn't I have been born a 75-year-old lady of leisure???
ODDS OF RETURN: 10-2. If Charlotte needs an antagonist, Bunny's as good as it gets.


WHO/WHAT: [See above]
ODDS OF RETURNING: 1,000,000-1. I think they were put in a compost heap after the scene was shot.


WHO: Miranda's housekeeper. Who the fuck doesn't love Magda? She's awesome. From the first time we meet her arranging condoms on a platter next to Miranda's bed to the finale, Magda went on to act as a surrogate mother-figure to Miranda and grandmama to Brady. TRY to not shed a tear in the finale when she walks into the kitchen, and responding to Miranda chasing after and cleaning up Steve's ill mother Mary, says "What you did today. That is love." One of my favourite moments in the series...
ODDS OF RETURN: 1-1. I'd have to imagine that if there's a scene at Cassa Miranda, Magda will be present.


WHO: Another reason I wish I was an aged New York socialite, Bitsy married superfag Bobby Fine (fagged up by Nathan Lane) in the episode "I Love A Charade" and came back very pregnant to taunt Charlotte in a later episode. Played by Broadway veteran Julie Halston, Bitsy was magnificently contrived and sorely underused. Like for real... I don't understand why Bitsy couldn't have been in at least every second episode. Shit.
ODDS OF RETURN: 8-2. She's a great exposition character. Something tells me they'll cross paths with Bitsy.


WHO: Carrie's publishers who committed her columns to book. Yeah, to the surprise of no one they're two of my favourite S&TC characters of all time - they're played by two of my all-time personal goddesses, Amy Sedaris and Molly Shannon, respecitively. Standout moment: "The Big Journey": Lily (Molly Shannon) upon receiving Carrie's complaint that she has to share her book tour with a canine internet personality: "[Incredibly dispairaged] What can I say Carrie... they totally fucked me on this! [Sees someone across the room, immediately changes tone] HEY! I'll be right back."
ODDS OF RETURN: 35-1. I can't really see the use for them at this point.


WHO: Oh hell to the YES mothafuckaz. "CARRIE FUCKING BRADSHAW! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?" Faded socialite-cum-party crasher who meets her untimely demise in the uncharacteristically dark episode "Splat!". Kirsten Johnston (sadly, no relation) was ass-rockingly brilliant in this turn. It pains me that we never saw more of this character, really. Mainly because I love people who casually swear and have no idea that they're being inappropriate.
ODDS OF RETURN: 99-1. Pending a flashback, yeah, she died. So no.







WHO: Carrie's acquaintance from "The Awful Truth" with a borderline-abusive husband who she splits with, then with the help of Charlotte's first pooch Henry stepping in as the whipping boy, gets back together with him. There are so many reasons why I love Susan Sharon (played by Molly Price... pictured above in a promo shot for "The Bionic Women", the new series in which she stars, and some event photo where she looks sort-of Susan Sharon-ish)... Because she couldn't catch a break... Because I'm a sucker for the loud, bumbling Jewess archetype... But mainly because bitch has two first names for a name! YES! I don't know why it is that when a man has two first names for a name it seems really smug and asinine and/or gay porn-star-ish, but when a woman does it it's just plain fabulous? I don't know. Anyway - Susan Sharon has always been my personal favourite S&TC bit part!!!
ODDS OF RETURN: 2-1. I'm willing it so. Using "The Secret". It will happen.


--- Aj

Thursday, September 20, 2007

sick sick sick sick sick sick sick...

Yep. Still sick. Better... but that's not saying a lot...

Today at my work - down at the Mirvish building - they're having auditions for the Shaw festival right down the hall where the rehearsal halls are. I'm going to assume that they're casting the effin' male chorus of "A Chorus Line" or "La Cage Aux Folles" or some shit because Imma tell ya... the elevator has been like a clown-car of presentably dressed actor-type homos - and THEY ALL HAVE BACK PACKS... not gym bags, not man-purses, not satchels, not even BINDELS but BACK PACKS! It's driving me nuts. But then again, as is everything today because I'm SICK! WAH!

I don't know if anyone was drawn to the hype like a bored moth to a well-publicized flame and suckered into watching "Kid Nation" like I was, but let me tell ya - DISAPPOINTING. It's just like a glorified summer camp. 40 kids descend on an old-tymey Western saloon-town and need to make their own society or something blah blah blah I switched over to the 9th cycle premiere of America's Next Top Model within 3 minutes. ANTM, btw, still as rollicking a good time as ever. My favourite: Did anyone see that there was a girl there named Spontaniouse? Yes. As in a sista-fied reworking of the word "spontaneous"... although a pronunciation was never given, I'll assume it would have been "Spon-Tay-Nee-Oose-Ay". Wow. Anyway, Sponti didn't make it, so my second favourite and pick to win (ergo: she won't) is Heather.

She's borderline-autistic (for serious!) and she looks like a haute couture 1950's-era vamp... LOVE. There is a whole lotta stupid on this season though. That Mila bitch? Wow. That Jenna chick? Pretty but my God bitch is dumb as hair. That stripper who looks like Alicia Keys? Oooh-wee. D'ohhh well, I'll still watch it.

Anyway - Kid Nation. Sucked. They have to participate in challenges which decide which team will be the ruling class, the merchants, the cooks and the labourers. And they're moderated by an adult male. SO FUCK THAT! There's still an authority figure!

I thought this show was just gonna be dropping 40 ten-year olds off in the middle of a desert and letting the bitches fend for their damn selves and seeing how many survived/got pregnant! But no such luck. Whatever. You're on your own, Kid Nation.

I then sat down for the long winter's nap that was the two-hour season finale extravaganza of "Last Comic Standing". Jon Reep - the kindly redneck with no lips - won. I was amazed. AMAZED. My sort of rule of thumb is that you can never beat a black male rock-star comic - which is what the runner up Lavelle Crawford is - in a mainstream comedy setting, they'll always trump the competition. An Eddie Murphy will always trump a Mitch Hedberg or a Jerry Seinfeld any day. Except last night apparently, so wow.

Anyway - the main reason I watched it was for the two minutes that the rest of the Top 10 was brought out which included Debra DiGiovanni. They were subjected to 2 minutes of spewing their best one liners. Glorf. I'd sooner die than have to do that. Doug Benson basically rules the world. His: "You'd think that how gay Ant wants everyone to think he is, he'd go by Aunt." It made me lose my shit. Awesome. Just me? Really? Okay. Sorry.

Okay... I'm fading like a flower and the thirtieth auditionee sporting a back pack - THEY ALL HAVE BACK PACKS - just came into my office and needed redirection... the Roxette song... I have 5 minutes to make this blog interesting...

Here's a collection of cats strung out on catnip. It's brightened my day.


--- Aj

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Greetings! From the brink of death.


No, actually. Glorf.

That's how I feel. I'm sick, y'all. Somethin's going around and I full blown caught it. I've been bed-ridden for the last two days... well, three if you count m'Sunday.

I'm just going to punch in a tiny weekend roundup then drag my woefully sorry ass back to bed and watch as much as I can stomach of the premiere of "Kid Nation" - TONIGHT... AT 8 PM... CHECK YOUR LOCAL LISTINGS...

So right off the bat - Thursday night I got some very good and very unexpected news: I got into the LA Comedy Festival!!! I know - fucking crazy, huh? My agent submitted his entire roster and I just basically did it on a lark, but yeah. Who the balls knew? So I'm going down to LA at the end of October... and I don't have a passport... which needs to be remedied and is currently the absolute bain of my existence.

Pressing on: SaturDAY I spent getting all this info off to LA... they wanted all this promotional stuff which I don't have. I was on the website for last year's fest and they had people there who counted recurring roles on "Entourage" and fucking "Punk'd" to their resumes... I literally put "Andrew is from Canada, where he assures us, he's kind of a big deal" - AND THAT ISN'T EVEN TRUE!!! AHHHH!!!

But yeah. My Vancouver-based BFF Mike is going down with me (in more ways than one, as I imagine we'll have to find creative ways to make ends' meet whilst there). We've already assembled our laundry list of obligatory LA hotspots that we'll be going to: Nobu, Koi, Les Deux, The Chateau Marmont, Pinkberry, the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, the scene of the crime of the Black Dhalia murder, Craig T. Nelson's star on the Walk of Fame and time permitting, a day trip to Fresno.

Anyway - SaturNIGHT was spent Buddies-ing with Katherine "Kitty" Ryan who was in town from approximately the 4th to the 17th before jetting off indefinitely to Londontowne, Englandland. Pictured: Me, Her, Anth, doing gay face.

Wanting to maximize her appearances with various acquaintances whilst here, Kitty was set to dash off to the Guverment at the stroke of 1 and for some reason that I'll never be able to explain, I went with her. No, I know why I did... I wanted to maximize Kitty time... and upon receiving the invitation in passing, I have to imagine that at that very second I glanced around and drunkenly decided "Fuck this. Th'ain't nobody I'm goin' home with - LET'S GO!" and did.

So we go down to the Guverment where a party promoter and MuchMusic producer by the name of John Paul - a fellow that Kitty went way, waaay back with... all the way to their "Electric Circus" days, she tells me... ... I wish I had Electric Circus days... *sigh* - and go up to a VIP section replete with velvet rope, bottle service, and, I absolutely shit you not, A HYPE MAN. YES, A HYPE MAN. Right next to us, which was right next to the DJ, was a Hype Man.

For those of you who don't know what a Hype Man is, in the context of a party, the Hype Man is usually a thugg-ish looking dude who spews "YEAH!", "WHAT!", "LET'S GO!", "MAKE SOME NOISE" et al etc over the music. Why? I'm not sure. But I made it my business to get a picture with him.


Anyway - I got way too drunk. WAAAY too drunk. I raped a bottle of Belvedere like a Viking to a nunnery.

And poured out of there sometime around what I'm guessing was 2 AM or so when all of a sudden I hear yelping and distress from underneath the overpass at Lakeshore and Lower Jarvis...

It's some chick who's crying, saying she's been drugged and losing consciousness rapidly - and two guys who are fighting over her. Like "Dude back the fuck off!", each proclaiming they know her and that they'll take care of her... so I 'step in' and tell her she'll be just fine and that I don't want what she's sellin' and I'll call 9/11... the dudes continue to fight over her and I'm like "well the cops have been called now" and one of them recognizes me from Yuk Yuk's and tells me I'm really funny.

Do you remember that scene in "The First Wives Club" when they're escaping from the penthouse apartment via the window washing trolley and it gets jammed in front of a couple making love... and they recognize Goldie Hawn's character, "Elyse Elliott", and start yelling "Elyse! You look great!", to which she hears it, breaks face in the harrowing situation that the First Wives are in and enthusiastically says "THANK YOU!" and then the window washing tolley drops again and they're back in a life-threatening scenario?
TOTALLY WHAT I DID!!! It's like "tears, crying, fighting, tears, girl passing out, guys about to fist fight, me on phone with 911, me freaking out, girl about to vommit, girl crying, guys fighting, 'oh you're a comic, you're really funny', "THANK YOU!", girl crying, guys fighting, me yelling at operator"... Nuts.

So finally an ambulance comes and all of a sudden one of the guys DISAPPEARS. Like DISAPPEARS. Into the night. Like a thief. He was there one second - the next, gone. The guy who thought I was funny stayed and saw her entire rescue through - I knew he was the good one. He had to be.

Anyway... that was that. Some people might call me a Good Semaritan. I call me a Great Semaritan.

I actually call me sick as fuck and order myself back to bed. I had intended to do an entire Emmys wrap up but I've heard they were the second lowest-rated telecast in the history of the awards, so I'm sure you wouldn't have cared. Yay.

--- Aj

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Haute Topics: Becky Johnson Edition

Well what a week it's been. Britney bombing, 9/11 anniversary, TIFF roaring on as loud as ever, it's just enough to make y'head spin.

I received a number of comments and messages re: my various blogs this week that I'd like to address... specifically, from the Becktacular Becky Johnson (pictured to the left, to the left in a promo for her 1-woman extravaganza, "Anorexican" which darkly and provocatively explored eating disorders in our day and age (so I was told. I was an asshole and never went to see it. I'm so sorry...), anyway that show adds weight to her first comment)...

Regarding Monday's post about Britney Spears, particularly mine and the world's scathing criticism about her physical presentation, Becky had this to say via a comment posted on the blog:

"okay, maybe i feel like i'm on some kind of body image soapbox right now, but is she really fat? you can come over to my place and i'll show what my pale, doughy and bruised silhouette looks like in a bra and panties and you'll see how unattainble britney spears' body still is. seriously, if my belly doesn't look like a jelloy mass of stretch marks and extra skin after two kids it would be a miracle worthy of canonisation.

seriously, though, i don't normally go in for this pop culture stuff but somehow the criticisms of her body really got me. she doesn't need a burka. she could even get away with spanx under a catsuit.

why does responding to your blogs always make me write like a gay man?


Awww. Love ya back, baby.

I'll graciously caveat to a certain point... in that I unofficially vowed that I wouldn't be one of those bloggers who skulks behind a computer, lookin' a hot mess, casually castigating the physical appearance of whomever I please with no business doing so simply for the sake of filling up space. But I've done it. To everyone from Valerie Bertinelli to Danilynne Birkhead, and I'm sorry about that.

I'm in no way, shape or form sorry about doing it to Britney Spears, though. When 85-95% of the appeal and/or purpose of your product is its physical packaging, expect to be held under a microscope and if you fall short, torn apart to the nth degree. This isn't a private citizen whose suddenly found herself under mass deconstruction. She's a brand... who has generated a familiar product for years and years... and been compensated HANDSOMELY for doing so. Millions upon millions of dollars have been spent by the masses to see her flash those abs that we as mortals could never hope to achieve, and do those stripper moves that only she can perform as if she honestly believes they're legitimate dance moves. That became a feature of her product.

Now, that product is grossly subpar - it's like a car comp'ny manufacturing cars wiffout no damn doors, y'all! That, in short, is why people reacted as they did in the specific case of Britney Spears. A simple case of brand loyalty being betrayed.

The slaying of body image thing in general is entirely different ballgame. Near and far as I can tell a taut body represents restraint, effort and fortitude - and as humans we're naturally drawn to that, and put those who match that profile on a pedestal. Again, if a substantial percentage of your product's appeal and/or purpose is due to its physical packaging, consider yourself fair game and don't be surprised when people don't give you the benefit of the doubt.

I think that's all I have to say about that right now...

Next up, another question from Becky, also tied to Britney Spears... ughhh... I'm never writing about her again after this post... Becky had this to say in a message sent over facebook...

[Hardly a new find at the point, but this is the clip that she's referring to, an obsessed Britney fan/Videoblogger by the name of "Chris Crocker":]

"i'm sure you've seen this.

maybe this is a weird question but if you look at the entire ouevre of this young man, can you explain to me why any members of the gay community find this entertaining?

i'm sure you're not the mouthpiece for all things gay but you seem thoughtful and articulate in matters of culture so i thought i'd troll for your opinion.

and, to be honest, this guy's stuff actually scared me. like, really.

yours truly,

becky johnson"

Alright. Some backstory about "Chris Crocker"... A.) early 20-something [obviously] homo who goes by a pseudonym living in small-town Tennessee... B.) The 'oeuvre' that Becktacle refers to is exactly that... upwards to and including somewhere in the neighborhood of 70 youtube video blogs/performance art pieces that have earned him a cult following... of sorts... C.) He's skyrocketed to online infamy, bypassing former flavour-of-the-week Miss Teen SC Caitlin Upton, with the above video... and emotional defence of Britney Spears from a fans' perspective. D.) He's an aspiring actor. E.) The above video was his 'second take'. F.) He purposely put on eye-liner so as to make his tears more prominent. G.) He's done a whilwind of promotional appearances over this, among them a spot on Howard Stern where when asks what his preferred sexual position was, he replied "I'm a top". Yeah. Right.

Do I think this is real?

Do I think he -a smalltown Emo-homo over-the-top aspiring actor-is real? yes. Do I think he's a genuine fan of Britney fan, yes. Do I think that this video is an honest-to-God lament capturing the unedited feelings of a wayward Britney-loving mini-gay? No. Do I think this video was made with the intention of it being a viral phenomenon? Absofuckinglutely.

Anyway - to answer Becky's question as to how or why myself as a member of the gay community find this entertaining, I can tell you that I flat-out don't. The reason being that I'm a devastatingly territorial Queen whose head spins at the thought of less-talented homos garnering attention over myself via over-the-top and calculated effeminacy. Yer Ross "The Intern" Matthews'... Yer ANT's... Yer Canadian facsimiles of those two whose names I won't mention as I frequently run into them... I'm not saying that they don't deserve to live, I'm just saying it's probably a good idea that the decision's not left up to me as to whether they do... = )

Anyway - there's y'answer from my point of view. Why would anyone from the gay community find it funny? M'idunno. For the same reason that anyone else does - because it's someone having a believably unedited fit over something tacky and trivial.


Thirdly, here's a text-message I received from Becky regarding the recently leaked nude photos of a then-underaged Vanessa-Anne Hudgens, of Disney's "High School Musical" fame...


i'm acutely aware you'd be unable to post the original photo of a nude, 17-year-old Vanessa-Anne Hudgens that she snapped of herself, presumably meant for private use and/or archival purposes, as it would be illegal.

i am, however, wondering if you could post it with her illicit areas blocked by objects similar in size, shape and composition.


b. johnson"*

Becks, it would be my pleasure.

[*Editor's note: Becky never wrote that to me, but I needed a third item to talk about. I'm a slave to the rule of 3's...]

I'd been meaning to blog about that Hudgen's skank and her shockingly full pubic hair configuration and googly-eye nipples last week but never got around to it. So there ya go.

Anyway - this was a very long blog.

--- Aj

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Comings... Goings... Doings...

D'afternoon to you cowboys & Indians...

Come with me for a brief trip through time.

The date: Approximately June 4th, 2006. My birthday. I received a digitial camera as a gift, a device that I easily became obsessed with. For about a solid 4 months after that, I brought it everywhere, took pictures incessantly and so was born my 'photo blog'. For real. I'd find an excuse to go out so I could bring my camera, photodocument the evening and blog about the shit.

I've eased off from doing that in recent months, partly because once my blog became less anonymous, people wouldn't include me in things/invite me on the condition that I didn't photo-blog about it, partly because a camera is rather cumbersome to keep in one's pocket and ruins the clean silhouette that a gay man holds so dear, partly because, meh, I just full-out lost enthusiasm for it.

Well today is a blast from the past - it's an old-fashioned photo blog about my last night's festivities!

After striking a salute pose for the entire afternoon in tribute to 9/11 (I assume you did the same), I got ready to meet one Miss Nicole "CoCo" Arbour to accompany her to an, *ahem*, Eco-Fashion Show at V Club in Yorkville. The entire to-do was to be hosted by friend and associate, Sabrina "Jaleesa" Jalees.

The whole livelong afternoon I was so excited and so sure of what I would be wearing - basically every 6 months I'll buy an outfit that will be my go-to dress-up outfit. Initially I purchased this particular ensemble for a Slice Network pilot I was up for, so I figured I might as well get some mileage out of it. Thing of it is/was: it was a white blazer. It takes a lot of pomp and/or circumstance to wear a white blazer, in my opinion. It had to be fair weather, or else Imma look like a douchebag... and indeed, yesterday afternoon looked to be the picture of fair weather, so there was nothing to worry about. Yeah. Then a hurricaine cometh three seconds after I get into a cab. NOW I'M A DOUCHEBAG WEARING A WHITE BLAZER IN A HURRICAINE!!!

Luckily, I just tried to impress the fact that I was a living, breathing homage to Miami Vice all night long, and people seemed to buy it. So alls well that ends well on that front.

Not great? The actual party. Wow. Wow wow wow it sucked. Hard. The entire thing was supposed to be some Eco-soiree with live performances by musical acts I'd never heard of that included some banjo duo, a singer-songwriter girl-with-guitar who looked like a goth blow-up doll and some beatboxer with the zeal of a children's entertainer. And of course, Miss Jalees EmCee-ing everything (pictured to the left, to the left... me, with CoCo and Jaleesa).

The entire concept is another topic all together, though. Along with admission, you received a drink ticket for a glass of organic wine or an organic beer. I think three plates of hors d'oeuvres came around and they were all low-grade vegan swill. The gift bag, reportedly priced at over $100, contained a few measly organic exfoliant scrubz and some organic pasta. The "fashion show" portion of the evening, showcasing organic fashions or some shit, was entirely underwhelming.

All in all, the "Eco-friendly" theme of the evening was exactly that: a theme. It might as well have been "Under the Sea" or "Pimps & Hos" - no one could have cared less about the actual cause. Meh.

So at the stroke of 11, CoCo and I piled into a cab still ravenously hungry for a good time and headed down to the Drake where the absolutely radiant and talent Dini "DiniLicious" Dimakos was holding court for her birthday party. Here's me and Licious to the right...

You're not likely to e'er see me down Queen West West way, as it's about a hemisphere away from where I live on the Danforth. For realz, I was down to the Gladstone for a show on Monday and it took me no less than 50 minutes to do so! OUTRAGEOUS!

Anyballs, it was reasonable pandimonium there as the after party for TUFF (Toronto's Urban Film Festival... see how that acronym works there?... I always wished my alma matter, Queen's University had an International Film Festival... because that would be called QUIFF. And knowing how abreviation-happy Queen's is, I can imagine the events committe would go by QUIFFE... but that's neither here nor there...) - So yes... it was a raucos Saturnalia in full swing by the time we got there.

I was understandably hesitant about showing up to the Drake wearing a white blazer as I thought it would be a douchebag siren of sorts. Howevs, I both pleasantly surprised and confounded to see that not one but TWO gentlemen in Dini's party were also bedecked in white blazer.

Naturally, we rolled up our sleeves and channelled the Vice.

What's crazy? That Miami Vice logo wasn't photoshopped into the picture - nono. We looked SO accurate that it appeared out of thin air.

B'anyway... I vamoosed around quarter after 1 and it astoundingly took me less than half an hour to get home. I credit the power of the white blazer.

That's basically it. Tomorrow: a long overdue Haute Topics.

--- Aj

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

That 4/11 Blog... I mean, 9/11 Blog...

Happy September 11th!!!

Or not. It's generally not cause for celebration... unless you're a terrorist. Then shooooot, this is like y'alls Fanksgivin' day or sumpin'!

But yes, a solemn day for the rest of us.

Can you honestly believe today marks the sixth anniversary of 9/11? It seems like yesterday. Of course, 9/11 is the pivotal "remember where you were when" moment of my generation, akin to Kennedy being shot or Lance/Neil/Buzz Armstrong setting foot on the moon. Prior to 9/11, all my generation had was Princess Diana dying, so I'm thankful for the magnitude of 9/11 - glass half-full, anyone? Anyone care for lemonade? Because I just made some. Out of previously unappetizing lemons. SHAZAM!

What am I even talking about right now? I'm a little hungover and am heading into my second week without carbs, which is slowly driving me insane in the membrane but that's neither here nor there.

Ah yes - 9/11. I remember where I was. It was the second day of school in my second year back at Queen's University. I wasn't in class, though - I was working. At the ever-popular campus coffee hutch, Common Ground - it was like the Central Perk of Queen's, and I, it's Rachel Green. I was just muddling away, manning m'cash regista, when all of a sudden I see a barrage of comfortably attired (everyone wore pajama pants at Queens... every day was casual Friday) co-eds coming from every angle and heading into the QP (the Queen's Pub... everything was abbreviated at Queen's) which was right down the hall from the CoGro (I'm not lying... abbreviated... everything) in a frenzy to end all frenzies.

"THE WORLD TRADE TOWERS HAVE BEEN HIT BY A PLANE!" they screamed. "THEY'RE SAYIN' IT'S TERRORISM" they yelped. "WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?!" they tumpeted, as it was a popular song at the time.

I refused to believe it and thought it was being exaggerated. Like, I thought some two-seater jet crashed into the Prudential tower in Newark, New Jersey or something considerably smaller scale, but as it turned out, I'd be a monkey's uncle - the towers had indeed, been hit.

I think people forget how BATSHIT NUTS everything was around that time. Like, do you remember how panicked, terrified and humourless everyone was? For a substantial period of time, too. I remember going for drinks with two friends, Mike and Karen, that night and all we could talk about was what our exit strategy if New York was nuked - a genuine concern at the time... I remember my mother calling me and crying, fearing that "[I] could be drafted"... someone sent me the photo to the left, to the left, and I actually thought it was real... it took good friend and confidante Laura DiLabio reasoning with me for hours... "Andrew, of all things, do you honestly think a funsaver camera could survive swimming in molten steel?" She had a point.

And now we're all cozied up in a post-9/11 world. After a brief period of patriotism and global unity it's been a hasty descent into skepticism at every turn. The Canadian dollar went up, and the Canadian entertainment industry collapsed on it's face. Then, attempting to get up, fell on it's ass and broke everything from the waist down. And of course, people inherently look at anyone wearing traditional Muslim garb with a raised eyebrow. Golden age, much?

Anyway - to 'celebrate' the 6-year anniversary, Osama Bin Laden came out of hiding, put on his best party dress and delivered another lonnnng-overdue searing threat. You can read the details of it HERE. Pretty standard terrorist diatribe fare... "blessed are those who have died for Allah"-blah blah blah... urging young Muslim men to join in the fight for Islam blah blah blah... drilling home the point that the promised afterlife is so much better than this world, comparing this world to a "wing of a Mosquito"... all in all, very disappointing. The hot-button issue seems to be about him dyeing his beard. Which he totally did. And I can't imagine he could have gone into a public salon, so he totally did it at home. I'd have to imagine using L'Oreal's Signature Terrorist Beard kit, but that's me. I'm imaginative.

But yeah, he's basically just up to the same old tricks. Basically.

So all things considered over the past three days - whose comeback was more disappointing? Osama Bin Laden or Britney Spears?

I'd urge you to vote HERE.

And with that, I'm off. To put flags at half-mast and the like.

--- Aj

Sunday, September 09, 2007

The Fat Lady Has Sung/Gimme LESS...

First off...

It is downright DISGRACEFUL that I only clocked in two posts last week. I'm so deeply sorry for that and will furiously overcompensate this week as a result.

Second off...

Considerably more disgraceful than the fact that I only clocked in two posts last week - BRITNEY ASSFUCKING SPEARS AT THE MTV VMA'S LAST NIGHT.


I think that a live feed to a chess match at the Special Olympics would have been a better intro. To say that she was phoning it in would be the understatement of the year. Bitch performed like it was a wet Q to Q rehearsal and looked so, so much worse.

I think every girl in the world who developed an eating disorder because of Britney Spears and her former body - that completely unattainable one that was a product of being in the gym for 6 hours a day - came to their fucking senses last night. As is evidenced to the left, to the left, yeah... bitch has clearly got some rings around her trunk nowadays.

For serious, if I looked like that, I'd be more inclined to perform in a burka. Even if I was having a super-confident day, at least a pair of old-fashioned swimming trunks. Bad. BAD BAD BAD!!!!!

Now, I'm by no means scorned by this as some people are, as I am not nor have e'er I been a fan of Britney Spears. As per required, I enjoy "Stronger", "I'm A Slave 4 U" and "Toxic" as much as any other homo, but I've always been counting down the days until her expiration. Honestly, it seems like she's been resting on the 59th second of the 59th minute of her 11th hour since 199fucking9. I swear.

I judge people's character by whether or not they think she's the Madonna of our generation - which, by the way, I don't believe exists. If m'arm were to be twisted about this matter, I'd say if anyone, she's the Janet Jackson of our generation - although she makes Janet Jackson's career seem swimmingly on track by comparison. Any time I meet someone that worships Britney I'm like, "really? That's the example of feminine power you relate to? Wow. You have the depth of a wading pool, m'friend". Bottom line is: I just don't get it.

Another thing I don't get: WHY SHE BOTHERS TO WEAR THAT LITTLE HEAD SET MICROPHONE AT ALL!!! If you're going to blantantly lipsync, just fucking do it asshole and don't even pretend to pretend to pretend that you're not! I seem to recall Madonna's riveting opening performance of "Vogue" at the 1990 VMA's - an exquisite performance borrowing its theme from Marie Antoinette's boudoir and the French Renaissance court - and she didn't fuck around. No mics, no bullshit.

There's no pretense of singing (although they certaingly were insistent on having the sound effects of the fans unfurling)! But it was still one of the most ass-rocking performances specifically opening performances in the MTV VMA history. Sigh.

I've always watched the MTV VMA's dotingly - did you know that the first ceremonies back in 1984, the ones where Madonna sang "Like A Virgin" in a wedding gown and writhed around and shit, were hosted by Dan Ayckroyd and Bette Midler? Yep... they were the Dane Cook's and Sarah Silverman's of yesteryear.

I consider it such a barometer of pop-culture - or at least, it used to be.

This year was nothing short of abysmally bad - Britney's aforementioned 'comeback' spectacular... the constant bleeping-out of a performance of "Smack That" by the world's most beloved and successful rapist, Akon... Fergie not being present to accept the award for "Best Female Artist"... Fergie actually winning "Best Female Artist"... Fergie actually existing in the first place... - a few humorous hijinks saved this year's festivities from coming in below the holocaust of the senses that was the 2005 VMA's.

Among them:

... Current youtube "It" Girl, Miss Teen South Carolina Caitlin Upton (she's since dropped the Lauren) admirably and immaculately spoofing herself while giving out voting information for Best New Artist or some shit. It was the third "such as" that put me over the top, I don't know 'bout y'all...

... Alicia Keys - shock of shock - ACTUALLY SINGING!!!?!?!?!!! That was nuts. Well, not really. It was a performance that would have been easily middle-tier at the Grammy's, but in contrast to the dud after dud this evening had to offer, it was shimmeringly standout.

... Tommy Lee and Kid Rock's "white-on-white violence". Yep. Two members of the "we've thrown our hot dogs down Pamela Anderson's hallway"-club got into a fistfight during the Alicia Keys performance. The cause of the fight? Unknown. Although it was presumably over who's a bigger douchebag. Too close to call.

... Although the world in general seems to be over Sarah Silverman, she's still a goddess to me, and I find anything that spews out of her mouth hilarious and ingenius. Sure she made fun of Britney's kids (who the fuck doesn't?) - in fact, it's rumoured that Britney's performance was so lacklustre because she heard what Sarah was going to be saying in her opening monologue during dress rehearsal and that threw her off/put her in a spell - but when Sarah gave birth to this quote: "Amy Winehouse is Jewish, right? Because if not, someone better let her face know that"... This guy = lost it. Wow.

All in all... DISAPPOINTING! But I still produced a reasonably girthy writeup on it, so all's well that end's well.

Ending well,

--- Aj

Thursday, September 06, 2007



Hopes this finds you smiling...

I'm retardedly busy today so here's a few things...

A.) This item to the right is officially the greatest thing I've ever seen.

Whomever did this deserves the assfucking Nobel Peace Prize.


Yeppers. People keep asking me, "did I see you giggling wearing a green shirt promoting The Family Guy on OMNI?". Answer: Yes. I shot those in June. It was two tonnes of fun.

I have yet to see them, though. And I'm telling you, I'm watching OMNI as much as I humanly can. I'm wiped.


Yeppy. Britney's opening the show. The entire shabadoo is to be directed by rumored beau and notable mind-freak, Criss Angel.

It's going to be a trainwreck. Literally. I predict that he's going to try and make a train disappear or something as part of the act and it's going to go horribly awry, people will die and Britney will accidentally have a nip-slip or something.
It's not to be missed.


That's all I have to say about that.


--- Aj

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

That Teenage Shenanigans Blog

D'afternoon, muggles...

My head is positively spinning at the fact that I haven't been able to blog in two-count 'em-two days... and you know who's to blame for that? Squarely - Eve.

Yes, rapper Eve of "Let Me Blow Ya Mind" featuring Gwen Stefani fame. And her utterly craptacular video for "Tambourine" that's part of an episode of Video On Trial that I'm shooting tomorrow... I've watched it like 80 times and have about 3 things to say about it. But they're real hum-dingers, let me tell ya.

So anyway I was kinda freaking out about that last night and my planned blog fell by the wayside...

SO much has happened since last I blogged: The View made it's 11th season premiere with new co-host and moderator Whoopi Goldberg... Jerry Lewis called one of his production assistants an "illiterate faggot" live on his telethon (is anyone constantly amazed that this man is still alive?)... Whoopi Goldberg defended Michael Vick and his penchant for dog fighting on The View... Closeted gay senator and purveyor of bathroom shinanigans Larry Craig is set to resign amongst controversy from his recent arrest... Barbara Walters announced that a new co-host will be announced this coming Monday on The View... ... ... more stuff happened on The View...

But what I've REALLY been wanting to talk about is a trend that's sweeping the nation called "Fire In The Hole"...

Alright. I have no idea where this originated - although I'm going to bet it was in a city the size and cultural profile of my hometown, Brockville, Ontario - but I find it both so fucking entertaining and so fucking wrong I can't even tell you.

"Fire In The Hole" involves mangy suburban, teenage males with youthful exuberance to burn driving up to a drive-thru at a fast food restaurant, getting food and the most jumbo-sized drink possible, then yelling "FIRE IN THE HOLE" and throwing it in the drive-thru attendants face... and, of course, this is all caught on tape and put online:


If you just laughed at that you'll be joining me in hell. It looks like it'll be a pretty gregarious group down there, at least.

Wow - that's just insane. It's so much more devious and high-tech than the pranks we would play in high school... the jackassery I was involved in was ridiculously harmless and very inside-joke-ish...

I think the worst thing we got up to was making collect calls. For real. Hours would be spent doing this on Friday nights and Saturday afternoons.

Here's how it worked: we'd go to a group of pay phones - usually a kiosk at the majestic Thousand Islands Mall as they couldn't trace it - dial zero plus the number - usually in Nanaimo, British Columbia as we randomly knew that exchange for some reason - and the games begun. You were greeted by an automated message saying "thank you for using Bell Canada collect. At the tone please record your name..." and then you had 3 seconds to say something... then it'd say "thank you, your call is being connected..." - THEN THE GREATEST THING IN THE WORLD HAPPENED - the person would pick up, be greeted by this automated message saying "Hello, this is Bell Canada. You have a collect call from... [insert whatever bizarro name we used, usually said humorously]... if you wish to accept the charges, please press 1... etc..." -

Now... why is this amazing? Because you could hear the person on the other end flailing around being like "Becky? Who's Becky? George, do we know a Becky?" BUT THEY COULDN'T HEAR YOU!!! Yep... it was like being on the favorable side of a two-way mirror!

It was amazing. And you'd be astounded how many people accepted the charges - only to find us hanging up or general crank call fare... a-la "Is your refrigerator running? Better go catch it" etc etc etc... anyway - FUN!

Another one of my favourite shinanigans to get up to was a game called "Pretend grocery shopping". It was precisely that: we'd go into a grocery store and fill an entire cart until it was brimming with the most random groceries, then blatantly ditch it. I remember this one time we piled a cart full with only these exotic, hairy bananas, Count Chocula and Spam.

Oh to be a mangy, teenstache sporting delinquent again. Those were heady days.

The headiest.

In other news,

An adorable little gal from Newfoundland named Amelia started a my official facebook fanclub. [read: I had nothing to do with this!]

Initially, I was mortified. But I've now grown to accept, embrace and celebrate it... if you want to join it - and I can't imagine why you wouldn't - go HERE:

Happy September,

--- Aj