... or bottom of it, if that's your preference. Whatever.
A growing literary trend of late? "If I Did It..." hypothetical diatribes - detailing how one could have and would have done various things.
Probably the most highly publicized case of this is the upcoming O.J. Simpson 'docunovel' by the same title of this blog in which he tauntingly goes through, in ornate detail how he would have committed the murders if he did it... which he totally did and basically fesses to. Heads rolled over this. The publisher, Judith Regan, was fired from her publishing house. Sensationalist septugenarian Barbara Walters turned down the possibility of an interview with him. In a move remarkably uncharacteristic for the media, it seemed as if this was going to be handled with good taste and the book would never see the light of day, but now, according to TMZ, the book is going to be published.The Goldman family, who's son Ron was killed by The Juice, has aquired rights to it and have decided to publish it. Proceeds will go to the Ronald Goldman foundation, whatever that is, and the the Goldman family, who will now include various jots and footnotes from their perspective to it. It's rumored that they'll retitle it, too - to simply, "I Did It". Which is hilarious.
I remember that whole OJ shit. It went down right before summer vacation when I was in Grade 7. As a result, I acquired a new nickname - AJ Simpson, which was all-too fitting considering the double murder I had just pulled off and gotten away with scot free from. An eerie coincidence. No. But they did call me AJ Simpson. The nickname didn't make it past summer vacation, however.
Anyway - I think it's horrific. Horrific. Whoever reads this should have their asshole sewn shut in the village square as punishment, and not, as high-priestess Alexyss K. Tylor suggests as a preventative measure for young black gay hookers in what has got to be the most hilarious clip I've ever seen:
Oooooh shit that's nuts. Wow. 7 minutes of being in complete hysterical laughter/shock, right there. Anyway -
What could possibly top the inappropriateness of publishing OJ Simpsons' pseudo-confession? This article at the new Freakonomics blog from The New York Times entitled "If You Were A Terrorist, How Would You Attack?"
"The basic idea is to arm 20 terrorists with rifles and cars, and arrange to have them begin shooting randomly at pre-set times all across the country. Big cities, little cities, suburbs, etc. Have them move around a lot. No one will know when and where the next attack will be. The chaos would be unbelievable, especially considering how few resources it would require of the terrorists. It would also be extremely hard to catch these guys. The damage wouldn’t be as extreme as detonating a nuclear bomb in New York City, of course; but it sure would be a lot easier to obtain a handful of guns than a nuclear weapon."
Yep. A plan for terrorists with limited resources to create a terrorist act that is low-impact, high-results. Exactly like the Body Fuzion workout, only not for your lats and glutes, but rather for the part of your brain that controls your bowels from going off at any second except when it's terrorized beyond belief.
An interesting read, yes, but why would you even put that out there? If anything remotely similar happens, you're clearly going to Guantanamo Bay. Nuts. But again, interesting. Can you even imagine how catastrophic that would be? Simultaneous shootings in New York City, Chicago, Milkwaukee, Burlington Vermont, Laramie Wyoming etc? It would have people diving for their root cellars n'er to come out. NUTS!
Anyway... something a bit lighter and in the same vein is this article on a book in which ex-cop Barry Cooper rails against the man and spills secrets on how to avoid a drug bust. There's a lot about knowing your rights - pot periphenalia, unless covered in residue, is perfectly legal... cops can't search you without a warrant... it's not illegal to smell like pot, just to handle it... - of interest is that if you need to transport a large barge of drugs, the best time to do it is in the rain or during rush hour as cops hate pulling people out in both scenarios. Also, it's recommended to coat things with deer urine or travel with a cat to set the dogs into hunt & chase mode rather than pot-sniffing mode. The cardinal rule seems to be to never carry more pot than you can swallow at any given moment.
Of course if you're from Canada, none of this really applies to you, but whatever. If you are in Canada, I'll tell you what DOES apply to you, though...
2 MORE SLEEPS!!! AHHHH!!! Once again --- tickets are available by calling 416-975-8555!!! Or at the door!!! Mention this blog and receive a bottle of KY - FREE*!!!
As Alexyss K. Tylor would say,
Takin that dick up til' I hickup,
--- Aj
* Totally won't happen. Buy your own fucking lube, tightey.
Well, time passes, and maybe they no longer have their once deliciously svelte 9-year-old ballerina physiques - they've since traded in their uniforms for hipster garb that isn't at all obnoxious - but they certainly know how to throw one heck of a party. Here are our Sweet Valley Twins in present day:
Since it was a joint-birthday, it proved to be a smorgasbord of both Yerxa and April's friends, many of whom had no idea who the others were. Important to gleam from the turnout: April Wozny knows more gay dudes than Yerxa and I combined times 5. Sheesh.
I'm glad this was brought up for two very distinct reasons: 1.) I was a fan of Aaliyah. I had her first album, "Age Ain't Nuthin' But A Numbah", featuring the title track, ass-rockin' mid-90's hip hop jam "Back & Forth" and the smooth-as-honey-poured-on-silk-poured-on-whale-skin ballad, "At Your Best (You Are Love)". I remember being very upset when, in the summer of 2001, it was announced that she died in a tragic plan crash that was later disclosed to be the result of overly-cumbersome luggage.
Now watch this:
That's pretty much it.
That's right - THIS FRIDAY!!!!!!! Get your tickets NOW!!! Call 416.975.8555 or go to the Buddies box office at 12 Alexander St., the corner of Yonge & Alexander between College & Wellesley!!!
It's perhaps more commen knowledge than 2 x 2 equalling 4 that I am about the biggest Whitney Houston fan in the known multiverse. And, in rousing, appropriate celebration, I now present, in no particular order, my favourite Whitney Houston moments EVEREVER.
What can be said that hasn't already been said about this long-awaited tell-all sitdown with Primetime Live's Diane Sawyer. I'll never forget it. I remember it was December of my third year in University and I had some assfucking essay on feminist theatre or some shit that was SEVERELY overdue and I told myself that I'd only watch the first segment then get to it. Yeah, I watched the whole thing. Then rewound it, watched it again. Then again. Suffice to say, the paper didna get done that night.
Before the smack, crack and Bobby B - under the tutelage of svengali Clive Davis, Whitney made her debut singing "Home" from The Wiz on the [late] Merv Griffin Show. Look up 'angelic' in the dictionary. You'll find this link: 
Cracked out of her everlovin' skull, Whitney and Bobby made a pilgrimage to Israel where they met with black Muslims, a hysterical Whitney was baptized and she gave birth to yet another immortal soundbyte, "My land! MY LAND!". Amazing: 
Whitney proved to be the extra-lite icing on the already freakshow-y cake that was the Michael Jackson tribute of '03. If there was ever an instance that people feared for her life, t'was then. Vogue editrix Anna Wintour had a different take on it, though: "Lookin' good". Shock. Awe. Here: 
This song bears the distinction of being the song I've listened to the most in my life. I swear. I could sing this song in my sleep and probably have dozens of times. This video, whose theme seems to be gay mimes in a fingerpainted maze, is 80's haute-camp. Inset right is the cover to the single. What's so desperately sad about this is that if Whitney was to wear that ensemble now and go strutting on Queen West, she'd probably make Vice Magazine's "Do's". Am I right? I'm right. Best song ever: 
Hell-to-the-hell-to-the-HELL-the-YES! Sorry, MAD TV fans. Maya wins the Whitney impression award hands down. This betta not be you Bobby B: 
With tension running high at the height of the gulf war, Whitney made it perfectly clear what the boys were fightin' for. Sweaty perfection: 
Pretty funny shit: 
As you can imagine, when it was announced that Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey were to be joining forces in a power-ballad duet, it was kind of the biggest shit deal EVER for me. The only thing that could have made the spring of '99 more of a huge shit deal would be if Madonna and Janet Jackson staged some sort of telethon dance-off. Irregardless, both divas showed up and showed out at the '99 Oscars singing the ballad, "When You Believe", that easily won the Oscar for best song later that night. In this clip, Whitney shows that you simply don't fuck with her on stage and makes Mariah look like a contest winner who won the opportunity to be on stage with Whitney. Simply put: marvelous: here: 
Here's m'story about this: One lazy Saturday afternoon whilst I was back in high school, I was watching the VH1 and they were airing a Grammys greatest moments special. As I'm prone to do whilst horizontal, on a couch, in front of the TV, I dozed off. Only to awaken to the thunderous modulation of Whitney hitting the "AND IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII" and I've never been the same. Bitch done lays it out: 
Lord have mercy. It's a damned, crying shame that we didn't get "Being Bobby Brown" up here in Canada, and all I could do was get various snippits on youtube. Anyway - as with their real lives, Whitney and her unusual antics proved the star of the show. This woman is a soundbyte machine and, with the exception of "Hell To The No" and maybe "dootie bubble", her shining moment came in a rebuttal to Bobby during a heated political discussion. I give you Whitney at her crack-whory best: 
Getcha tickets now!!! Call 416-975.8555 - once again, the facebook invite is at 
Yeah. I'd have to say if there was one glaring weak link in this she-bang, it was the Bynes-ter. She acted the part fine, but couldn't dance to save her life and if ever she sang, it sounded as-if not-more digitally altered than any offering by Britney Spears... and WHAT WAS WITH HER GETTING DARKER THROUGHOUT THE MOVIE! Honestly, bitch was getting darker and darker and darker as time marched on.
The only other almost-weak link was Michelle Pfeiffer would could barely sing her way out of a paper bag... luckily her ability to vamp it up would slash through that back and set the shit on fiyah. She was very entertaining, but yeah, easily could have been outsang/outsung by Paris Hilton.
As if I even need to make this comparison with these two pics. But yeah... don't get me wrong, there's something incredibly dreamy about that Efron youngster... nevertheless there's also something incredibly repulsive about him, too. I guess there are worse things than ending up looking like Rob Lowe, though. However, there are also better things.
Latifah Latifah Latifah... if you'll remember a while back I posted a clip of "You Can't Stop The Beat" that was leaked and noted that Latifah trying to sing the part of Motormouth Maybelle is like Jennifer Lopez trying to sing the part of Elphaba in "Wicked". Overreaching a little bit. Motormouth Maybelle should have been Jennifer Hudson in 20 years... or even 10 years... fuck, even right now. Hudson could play old C'MON! Anyway - it did leave me with sliiiightly more to be desired, but she certainly did the trick.
I was skeptical as all get-out about this one. But this was by far the biggest surprise of the film - Travolta stole the show by underplaying a role normally played by a hyper-aggressive drag queen and TALK ABOUT being lithe - he danced circles around everyone! I certainly can't help but wonder/like to imagine that his former "Look Who's Talking" co-star Kirstie Alley in present form provided some inspiration. Actually, on second though, Kirstie totally should have played Edna. That's the one female casting choice that I not only would have been cool with but preferred.
She was adorable is what I'm trying to say. Not that she literally is two kittens cavorting through a grassy knoll... whatever. Anyway - she was indefinitely born to play this role and turned it out. Congrats to her in her first ever film performance! And what I have to assume will be her last ever film performance! Hollywood - not so much brimming at the seams with parts for girls rockin' 5 feet of heigh and 200 pounds of girth. But congrats just the same!
