Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Judging the Current Crop of CBC Show Entirely by Their Subway Advertizing

Everybody,

So how the hell are you? I'm freezing. The heat is off in my office for some reason and I'm THISCLOSE to actually lighting some furniture that we're not using on fire. For real. T'will be a bonfire... of the vanities... literally... they're some actual vanity hutches suitable for storing and applying makeup in front of in the corner... hence, again, the bonfire of the vanities...

I sure do know how to open. Balls. Anyway - the opposite of cold? The absolute Carol Channing-FEVER that everyone has broken into since I posted this earlier this week. Apparently it was this 'thing' that everyone saw when they were a kid and didn't know whether or not they dreamed it... but no... the shit is as REAL as the nose on m'face. So, if you LOVED that, make sure to express that Channing-love by voting for Carol Channing in the Bitch YOU Loved This Month!!! Conversely, show Tom Cruise or Shirley Phelps-Roper or Britney Spears or Jessica Sierra or Jean "Poopie Pants" Mansel who's boss by voting for them in the Bitch YOU Hated This Month!!! Polls close Friday, and this is an effin' tight race so far.

So... anyone who frequently rides the Subway in Toronto may have noticed, from time to time, that the CBC - the Canadian Broadcasting Company A-K-A Canadian Tax Dollars Well-Spent - has a very... let's say, formulaic approach for advertising its new series each season.

They buy out an entire car and plaster it with several adds depicting the core cast of characters with some devastatingly glib line that's supposed to represent a snapshot of the character. When they were promoting "Little Mosque On The Prairie" for its second season, shit like "Prophet for Profit" next to the main Muslim guy, and "Practising Islam... Until She Gets It Right" next to the white chick who marries the Muslim guy and needs to covert blah blah blah blah blah. I know... it's shit that the dowdy, "Sarah-Plain-'N-Tall"-lookin' student teacher from your high school English class would have written/found amusing.

Baaaanyway - as somethin' fun to do, I thought I'd offer snap judgement on three new shows premiering on the CBC this winter based solely on their Subway advertising. I will judge them based on what looks to suck the least to what sucks the most...

Looking to be sucking the least...

1.) THE BORDER

The Premise: A high-strung drama revolving around the comings, goings and doings of the ICS (Immigration and Customs Security). At first I was like "this show is about them bitches up in Customs?", because as anyone who's passed through Canadian Customs knows, A.) they're straight-up cunts, and B.) it's not terribly exciting. What the fuck would the show be about? People apprehending fruit and dramatically cheaper foreign booze or over-reacting to Canadian Entertainers going to L.A.? Yeah. But no... apparently it's about terrorists trying to get into the U.S. via Canada which is a very real and present threat.
What I Can Gather From The Adverts: Yeah... I know everything I need to know from looking at that picture. From left-to-right: Cocky womanizing hero-type who constantly clashes with his superior, Pretty/Brainy chick proficient in many languages, Boss-Man and Father-figure, Icy No-Nonsense Sexy Chick who becomes romantic conflict, and lastly, Computer Guy/Bimbro. Leave it to CBC to S-P-E-L-L I-T A-L-L O-U-T for ya...
Snap Judgement: Well, I can't really recall what the Subway 'snapshots' said - which is probably a good thing... in that they weren't horrible. Meh. It looks good. Nobody can say that it isn't an attractive company. I'd probably say it's like a Canadian version -automatic-ergo- Poor-Man's version of 24.

Looking to be sucking...

2.) SOPHIE

The Premise: Sophie runs a talent agency. Sophie finds out she's pregnant. Sophie's baby-daddy, Rick, recently dumped her and starting seeing her best friend and top-grossing client. He's also planning on starting his own talent agency and poaching everything that's great about hers. Annnnnd SCENE.
What I Can Gather From The Adverts: Sophie is down on her luck and surrounded by a 'colorful' cast of characters in her daily life... A gay best friend, a spastic assistant, a domineering mother. Wow. They're blowing my mind right now. Subway snapshots say shit like: "Life is a bit brighter when I sip tea... and think about slashing my ex-boyfriends' tires!" and "My favourite place is... anywhere my control freak mother isn't!"...
Snap Judgement: Yeah... this is gonna suck. It looks like they took those unbelievably annoying Special K commercials about those three 'office buddies' who talk about how fabulous being on the Special K diet is and made into a mothafuckin' sitcom... full of cliches and archetypes and gah it just makes my head spin... PLUS that bitch totally looks like Teri Hatcher, which is never a good thing.

Looking to be sucking most...

3.) MVP: THE SECRET LIVES OF HOCKEY WIVES

The Premise: I gather it revolves around hockey wives and how rich and skanky they are. To be perfectly honest, this looks so terrible, I couldn't even be bothered to even b'google it d'once.
What I Gather From The Adverts: They might as well have just fucking slapped Leafs jerseys on the cast of Desperate Housewives...
Snap Judgement: Hmmm. Okay. This is the lamest shit I've ever seen. Did some douchebag in first year television production at Humber conceptualize this? Does he have a sexy tennis drama in the works called "40-Love"? Or a sexy drama that takes place on the diving boards of an Olympic swimming pool called "The Sexy Diving Board Drama Show" or something equally as fucking lame BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS LAME!!! It is such a maladroit effort to make this sort of show Canadiana. Look at those fucking martini glasses - SO AS TO IMPLY THAT THEY'RE RICH, Y'SEE. Meh. At least they got the hockey hair right.

So that's that. I won't watch any of them. Nope. Not a single one. I think the only thing I've watched on the CBC in the past year was something on sex trade workers/sex slaves in Canada. Did you know that a lot of sex slaves are brought here from foreign countries under Canada's elusive "Exotic Dancer Visa". Yeah. We totally have one. In that if you're an "Exotic Dancer" (*cough-Straight-Up-Whore-cough*), you can be granted temporary citizenship. Isn't that skanky?

Anyballs... I'm off to do whatever it is that I do...

--- Aj

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Greatest/Most Tragic Headline EVER

Jokers, smokers, midnight tokers,

How the balls is everyone this balmy Tuesday afternoon??? Have you voted for the Bitch YOU Loved This Month and the Bitch YOU Hated This Month??? If not, I urge you to do this. Someone's reputation is riding on this.

Okay... whilst thumbing through the New York Post as I'm occasionally prone to doing, a certain headline leaped out at me:

Yeah. You're reading right. "Evil Lesbian Mom (is there any other kind?) Left Toddler To Die Slow Death". Once you get over the initial histrionics of the "Evil Lesbian" part, the story really isn't so humorous.

It's quite something: Once upon a time Zahira Matos, 23, left her home in Michigan for the wilds of New York City, and in a scene straight outta the movie "Monster" met one Carmen Molina, 35. The two fell in love, and much rug-bumping ensued. Although it's unclear as to how long they had been together, Ms. Matos had three children... a three-year-old daughter named Yahmliz, a two-year-old son named Yiovanni, and a teency two-month-old newborn named Kimberley. Anyway - they were living together in absolute squalor in some tenement up in Harlem. The phone had been cut off but the fridge was well-stocked with beer, as Ms. Molina was a bit of a drinker, y'see.

One fateful evening back in September, 2007, Ms. Matos decided she wanted to go out partying... presumably to shake the blahs of being tied up with a newborn for the past two months, and left her children alone with her lesbian partner Ms. Molina to look after them.

Enter the astounding logic of the poor: What with the arrival of baby Kimberley, and what with Ms. Molina's ravenous appetite for booze, the family could only afford diapers for one child... this meant that little Yiovanni - two weeks shy of his second birthday - would have to get potty trained... AND FAST! Apparently the best method to do this was to use negative reinforcement each and every time he made an illegal numero deuce... so that's what happened. For every poopie, Yiovanni would get pummelled by a 30-something Latina lesbian.

This particular night little Yiovanni soiled himself whilst Ms. Molina was giving him a bath. This did not sit well with Ms. Molina - who, according to additional reports, had ingested FOUR 22-ounce bottles of St. Ides malt liquor (2 times the alcohol content of beer) that she'd been mixing with Cognac (YES, COGNAC. Couldn't afford diapers, but could afford Cognac.) - and as a result, she began drunkenly beating the toddler into submission.

Somehow, he accumulated 60 bruises on his head, torso and limbs, along with three recent rib fractures, a broken leg and a blow to the liver. When the child's rightful mother, Ms. Matos, returned home from her evening of partying, she found Yiovanni gnarled up on the floor and decided that she'd hop down to the drugstore to "buy him a band aid". She offered up this tasty sound byte:

"Before I left, my son was like in another world... so I tried my best to hurry
up."
Can you do me a favour? Picture that being said by Rosie Perez in "White Men Can't Jump", because that's what I imagine this woman's accent/intonation sounding like. And I find that rather amusing. Pressing on: Apparently bitch didn't want to take Yiovanni to the hospital, fearing that they'd have seen what had happened and want to take her other two children away from her - yeah... that was never an inevitability... NEVER... - so instead the two women tried to make a makeshift splint for his broken leg... and fuck, I dunno, I'll bet they considered putting foundation on his head to hide the bruises... the problem solving methods of the poor... it must have been like rats running through a fucking maze.

Anyway... at 2 AM - some FIVE hours after all this had been done - bitch finally decides to call 911... from a neighbor's apartment, of course. But, unfortunately, by this time it was - to quote Teen Pop phenom JoAnna "JoJo" Levesque - too little, too late. Yiovanni had died, and them bitches was in some trouble. Anyway... Matos lost her kids, naturally, is facing some sort of charges and Molina is serving 15 to life. *pats hands together as if to indicate "and that's that"*

Sad. Anyway... I feel like I should sort of end on a happier note... the other day I was talking to m'best girlfriend, Anth, and he mentioned that some 'unflattering' photos of him from a party a few years ago had been tagged on facebook that he needed to untag immediately. I was like "they're not unflattering. They're just normal. Is it because you're not doing Olsen-twin-face in them?" and he said "Exactly". Anyballs - this is the resulting photoshopping from that conversation...

Peace...

And please, remember - potty training has to happen at everyone's own pace.

--- Aj

Monday, January 28, 2008

M-M-M-M-Monday.../Bitches Loved, Hated, & Song of [last] week...

Fair Monday to you friends,

Hope everyone's weekend was smashing. Mine was. In that I was smashed. For pretty much every second of it. Which explains why there was no post marking the bitch I loved, bitch I hated and song of the week that I normally post on Saturday. So let's do that -

But before we do...

Did anyone catch the SAG's last night? I know... they're typically pretty lame, but what with the EXTREME lack of star-studded kudos-fests happening of late due to the writer's strike, I watched them with MUCH enthuse.

Again, no big surprises in the acting categories... DDL for "There Will Be Blood" - giving a very moving speech and dedicating the award to Heathcliff A. Ledger... Julie "Still Sexxxy at 66" Christie took Best Actress honours home for "Away From Her" and dedicated the award to insanely awesome Dundas & Ossington-based (for real! That's where she lives!) Sarah "S-Po" Polley... Javier Bardem for "No Country For Old Men"... "No Country For Old Men" for Best Cast ergo Best Picture... the real surprise of the evening was legendary Black-tress Ruby Dee scoring Best Supporting Actress for "American Gangster"...

I remember as the nominees were called out, right before the winner was announced I shouted out who I wanted to win, as y'do during these kind of ceremonies...

And I said "Ruby Deeee!" a-la Oprah when she announced Ruby's name at her epic Legend's Ball. That's pretty much the only reason I know Ruby, but it's a fucking good enough one for me to root for her winning. And then bitch totally did win! ... And rambled on aimlessly for what must have been 10 minutes...

Not to Mickey Rooney proportions, mind you... Holy balls... we get it Mickster... you're older than water and have "been in this business for 74 years" and have seen a little wear and tear...

But his crazy, geriatric histrionics came off as full-blown awkward a whoooolllle lot more than they came off as sentimental.

Someone should have just wheeled him out there, had him wave, and proceeded on with the award. Before he opened the envelope to announced best actress in a miniseries, this is what went down:

The Mickster: "It's quite a group. No wonder it's a tie... ... [opens envelope] The actor goes to: Queen Latifah... ... ... ... ..."

[everyone's waiting for him to name the other recipient in what he just proclaimed to be a tie]

The Mickster: "... ... ..."

[still nothing... Queen Latifah isn't present, and the camera wildly pans to the other four actresses who are very much present and looking puzzled as hell as he's not naming the second recipient of the award...]

The Mickster: "Miss Latifah? Miss Latifah? Miss Latifah? Queen Latifah isn't here and it is my honour to accept the award on her behalf..."

[The Mickster waddles offstage and the camera pans to Debra Messing laughing hysterically AT him... not with him...]

It was quite a moment. Anyballs... THE STARS WERE OUT IN FULL FORCE!!! Stars like...

Canada's own lesbot darling, Ellen Page... who seems poised to be the ultimate bridesmaid and never a bride this award season...

Not-so-Ugly Betty star, America Ferrera...

Poster-boy for GuyLiner, Zac Efron...

Trying desperately to bring back the over sized bow that characterized 1988 to absolutely no avail, Sandra Oh-NO!

But of course all eyes were on enigmatic Hollywood power couple, Brandrew...

It was a lovely ceremony. I'm afraid our evening was marred, however, but the constant whisperings wondering if I'm pregnant. Can't people just leave us be?!

Anyway... that's it with that.

Moving on...

BITCH I LOVED [LAST] WEEK -

CAROL CHANNING

Who: Husky-voiced living legend of stage and screen - Try to describe her and not use the word "pizzazz" at least twice.
Why I Love Her [Last] Week: Background: The other day I was downstairs speaking with the assistant to David Mirvish, the divine Tracey Nolan. Somehow Carol Channing came up - likely in reference to her sensational turn in the Klausner & Clarke masterpiece, "Mommy Time" - anywhoozles, Tracey remembered seeing Carol Channing a few years back in a special one-off revival of the musical that helped make C-Chan a star, "Hello Dolly". Now, of course, Carol's old as hell and her zeal and ability for treading the boards must have cooled a bit, right? WRONG. Apparently bitch got out there at 80-however-the-fuck-old she is and the first thing she does is a high kick that I couldn't have dreamt of doing EVEN at my nimblest.

Then I brought up the first time Carol entered my consciousness - t'was the late 80's and it was a special, star-studded retelling of Alice In Wonderland. IF ANYONE ELSE REMEMBERS/SAW THIS, YOU'RE MY HERO.

Basically Carol Channing fucking ruled the shit. Basically. She was the White Queen and sang a song entitled "Jam Tomorrow, Jam Yesterday, But Never Jam Today"... y'welcome...

Yeah. That's another one of those things that somehow made absolutely lucid sense as a kid and now watching it feels like I'm crashing from a particularly heavy meth trip.

MORE background to this: I'm not sure I want to admit it, but meh, I will. Back in high school, I used that as my audition piece for a musical. Not just the song, "Jam Tomorrow, Jam Yesterday, But Never Ever Jam Today" - BUT THE ENTIRE SCENE. That's right... with the help of Amanda Bedson in the role of Alice, I performed the entire scene leading up to that fucking song and that fucking song itself and I'm quite certain I did it in Carol Channing's voice... which really wasn't a conscious decision, per se. Yeah. Anyway.

BITCH I HATE [LAST] WEEK

Tie!

1.) SHIRLEY PHELPS-ROPER

Who: Daughter of hatemonger Fred Phelps - the helmer of the Westboro Baptist Church and GodHatesFags.com, whom earlier last week announced plans to picket the funeral of Heath Ledger - and vocal spokesperson for the organizations.
Why I Hate Her [Last] Week: SO many reasons. A.) Look at the bitch. She's pretty much the poster girl for incest. B.) She's a hatemonger and publicity whore. C.) She's a hypocrite - she's got an illegitimate son - a fact that she was called out on Hot 99.5 The Kane Show in Washington D.C. over the weekend (Listen to the podcast of her phone-in interview HERE... warning... this is one dumb bitch and she will make you see RED) - and she justified this by saying that because she recognizes it's a sin and warns others against making the sin, THAT'S why she's allowed to pass judgement. I hope this woman dies asphyxiating on her diarrhea.

2.) JEAN MANSEL

Who: Lindy Lane resident and wiener-dog enthusiast who refuses to pick up its 'poopie'. This upset her neighbors so much that they took a massive statue of Jesus she had in her front yard hostage until she picked up each and every last morsel of fecal matter. Naturally, this made national news.
Why I Hate Her [Last] Week: Because bitch refused to pick up the poopie from her wieners, and this fact made me burst into random, hysterical fits of laughter so much last week, people thought I was a mental out-patient.

And seeing as it's the end of the month... I'm bringing back yet ANOTHER feature... Bitch YOU Loved/Hates this month!!! VOTING VOTING VOTING VOTING!!! YAAAAY!!!

I realize that I missed a week at the top of the year, so to even the playing field a bit, I'm throwing in Pat Benatar - who is STILL rockin', possibly harder than ever, at 54 years old (a birthday she celebrated earlier this month) - into the Bitch I Loved This Week pool, and American-Idol finalist-turned-super hot mess Jessica Sierra - who saw an arrest, a return to rehab and a super skanky sex tape released this past month - into the Bitch That I Hated This Week pool.

So... a refresher course in the Bitches Loved this month:

Pat Benatar: 80's rock Goddess/Pixie
HeLLga: American Gladiatrix/Reader of this blog
Julie Klausner & Jackie Clarke: She-larious comedy duo/Geniuses behind such viral sensations as "Welcome To Our House", "Mommy Time" and many more...
Carol Channing: Man-voiced Living Legend/Jazz-Baby

Vote HERE for the Bitch YOU Loved this month!

A refresher course in the Bitches Hated this month:

Jessica Sierra: Fallen Idol/super-skank
Britney Spears: Recently British former pop-star/Outpatient
Tom Cruise: Former movie-star/Xenu's chosen one
Shirley Phelps-Roper: Hell-bound Hatemonger/Mother of bastards
Jean Mansel: Public Enemy of Lindy Lane/Poopie Pants

Vote HERE for the Bitch You Hated This Month!!!

I'm typically not one to make my politics known, but I feel comfortable telling you that I voted for HeLLga and Jean Mansel. HeLLga, because i.) SHE'S A KILLING MACHINE and ii.) she myspaced me. Jean Mansel because i.) she doesn't pick up the poopie from her wieners and ii.) I doubt anyone else will vote for her. Meh.

SONG OF THE WEEK

Worst-kept secret of all time: I'm a fucking huge Natasha Bedingfield fan. Honestly, I equivocate her to a young Dusty Springfield.

I recently downloaded a web-rip of her latest album, "Pocketful of Sunshine", and there is a song up on 'der entitled "Happy" that I defy anyone to listen to and not immediately chin up. This song is the aural equivalent to eating a bowl of ice cream, sprinkled with prozac whilst watching a puppy AND kitten playfully wrestly then drift off to sleep in each other's arms. It's nuts.

Download/Listen to it HERE!

Peeeeeace,

--- Aj

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Post-Mortem...

Hey everybody... gotta make this kind-of short today...

I'm going to the theatuh tonight to take in the latest offering by the good folks at Buddies In Bad Times, entitled "Who's Your Dada?" Get it? Dada as in the anti-art movement? "Who's Your-" as in the oft-uttered phrase during anal sex, particularly when performed doggstyle, "Who's Your Daddy?" They took the two... and uhhh... yeah... combined them, see... yeah... sorry.

Anyway, the world at large is still reeelling from Heathcliff Ledger's death, a fact and reaction which seems surprising what with all the fucking quotes coming out of the woodwork that seem to have foreshadowed it more explicitly than the mothafuckin' ominous strings in "Jaws".

This New York Times article boldly highlights his tortured soul and pretty much explicitly marks his love affair with Ambien. And of course, a quote that's being tossed around like a hot potato from this interview he gave to In Touch Weekly back in November 2007 saying: "Having a child changes every aspect of your life — for the better, of course. The sacrifices are large, but what you get in return is even bigger than the sacrifices you make. I feel, in a sense, ready to die because you are living on in your child". Moral of the story: be careful what you wish for. Sheesh.

Other items of interest (and I know they're of interest... my blog got a record number of hits yesterday! Fuck! I had no idea how into Heathcliff y'all was!):

Him and Mary Kate Olsen were reportedly dating. Considering that they were both living in the same building, it was presumably out of convenience, much like when people hooked up in residence back in Uni.

A rolled-up $20 bill - PERFECT for putting things up y'nose with - was found near Heathcliff's dead body. After testing, it came back negative. So yay. No c'caine was involved.

Some asshole from the beacon of credibility that is Fox News totally mocked Heathcliff dying, showing the iconic clip from Brokeback Mountain that sees Jake Gyllenhal's character saying "I wish I knew how to quit you", and following that the Fox News asshole replied "well, he found out how to quit you". Funny. You know what else is funny? How his e-mail address was made public and I wrote him telling him how I hope his family is raped, murdered and eaten by Tazmanian pirates. I urge you to do the same: john.gibson@foxnews.com

Anywho, that's it for today's HEATHWATCH.

So I got to thinking the other day, it's been suuuuch a long time since I've done an edition of "This Is Her Signature Look". For those of you unfamiliar with it, it's inspired/completely ripped off from a character that Maya Rudolph did named 'Tuhnay Griggs' on an installment of "Deep House Dish". Basically she was dressed like a hot-mess mongoloid hipster and her song was about describing the various items she was wearing sandwiched between "This is my signature look / And I'm gonna wear this out / Fierce fierce fierce, fabulous / Worthwhile". I'd post the clip, but shooooot girl, it's gone offa youtube... Anyway...

To demonstrate, I'll rehash a classic... here's Yerxa, sporting his signature look, at his birthdaytime...

And here's my rebuttal...


Which reminds me - the word 'rebuttal' - last weekend when Yerx, Anth and I were sitting around just shootin' our requisite co-fag shit, we reminisced about the time that Yerxa saw champion figure skater Jeff Buttle out at Buddies (FUCK OFF! A GAY FIGURE SKATER?! WHAT ARE THE ODDS?!?!?)... anyway... he rued not hooking up with Jeff Buttle said evening, and I hypothesized what it would be like if he did, but then hit it a second time... we concluded it would be called a "Re-Buttle". Get it? Good.

Pressing on...

I found this pic of Amy Winehouse as a child a while ago that was taken when some papparazzi got into her parents' house somehow, and it's just the fucking weirdest thing I've ever seen... sooooo... I now present:

THIS IS HER SIGNATURE LOOK, AMY WINEHOUSE-AS-A-KID EDITION!!!

Annnnd...


Done like Donda,

--- Aj

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

That "In Memorium" Blog

Well, let's get right down to it, shall we?...

Fact: did you know that this past Monday, January 21st was "Blue Monday" - the most depressing day of the year? It's generally the dead of winter, the sun sets at 3 PM, holiday spirit has died down, New Years resolutions haven't panned out and it's not even the half-way point yet.

Interesting.

On a completely unrelated topic - or rather, completely related topic - last night, 'round 7 PM, making m'way home from the gym I pop open my phone and am inundated with text messages informing me that one Heathcliff Andrew Ledger had passed away.

Truth be told I learned of this fact when I was at the gym. I was finishing up m'cardio when all of a sudden a newsflash came on the Global newscast that happened to be on the TV right in front of my face informing me that one "Keith Ledger" had died. Those people who do closed captioning need to be kicked in the box. Balls.

So who the fuck saw this one comin'? Not I. It was pretty common knowledge that Heathcliff (I love that name) had his demons, but no more than say, a Jonathan Rhys Meyers.

But apparently, yeah - he was downright druggity.

Here are the facts: 12:30 PM, in the $23,000-a month Soho loft he was renting (in the same building as Mary-Kate Olsen... not, as early reports claimed, in Mary-Kate's apartment) Heathcliff's housekeeper claims to have heard him snoring loudly. At approximately 3:30 PM, a masseuse arrived to give him what would have/should have been a succulent rubdown. Upon many a knock at his bedroom door, no dice. The housekeeper and the masseuse then bust their way into his room only to find him naked, on his stomach and deader than late-night television (topical... HEEEY!).

An elephant's weight of pills were found circling his dead body, including but not limited to: Zoloft©, Donormyl©, Zopiclone©, Diazepam© and of course over-the-counter sleeping 'aid', Ambien®.

At present, autopsy results are inconclusive, but it was likely a perfect storm of the above chemical relaxants that caused his death. Which is so, so sad.

Sadder still is that he leave behind a 2-year-old daughter, Matilda, with his ex-wife and co-star of Brokeback, Michelle Williams, who couldn't act her way through an acid-saturated budget-paper-towel, which is also quite sad.

VERY sad is that those fucking bungalow-dwelling cousin-kissing mongoloids in Fred Phelps' "God Hates Fags" army are - AND GET A LOAD OF THIS - flying to Australia to picket Heathcliff's funeral because he played Ennis Del Mar (exquisitely, may I add) in Brokeback Mountain.

If you don't know who Fred Phelps and the Westboro Baptist Church is, allow me to enlighten you. It's an independent Baptist Church/straight-up-cult out of Topeka, Kansas. Phelps presides over a congregation of around 80 or so - many of whom are made up of his immediate and extended family members. They picket funerals for gays, soldiers and public figures who have supported the GLBT community with signs that say "Thank God for 9/11", "Thank God for AIDS", "Thank God for Dead Soldiers" and of course, "God Hates Fags".

I've always sworn that if ever I crossed paths with God Hates Fags protesters, I'd resort to physical violence. And I'd take great, great pleasure in it. For real: "Gods Hate Fags"-ites... if you're out there... come to Canada... specifically Toronto... I dare you... I will snipe you. Or at least hurl a brick at your homeliest member.

It's actually pretty hilarious to go the website and look at some of the pictures from their protests. They're the most severely unattractive, emaciated people, smiling and waving at the camera brandishing these hateful signs. And, as per evidenced by the above picture and the below video, they make their kids go along with it:



But this blog isn't about "God Hates Fags". It's about Heathcliff A. Ledger. R.I.P. Ennis.

On the bright side, guess who is still with us:

MICKEY ROONEY!

EARTHA KITT!

EVERY SINGLE 1 OF THE GOLDEN GIRLS (albeit Estelle Getty is raddled by the 'Zheimers)

[Unfortunately] HEIDI MONTAG & SPENCER PRATT!

Awww... Heidi's got a pumpkin and Spencer's wheel-barrowing her around! What WILL they think of next... fuckers...

And perhaps most shocking of all...

CLINT EASTWOOD'S MOTHER!!!

Whoa.

Anyway...

Once again, R.I.P. Heathcliff Ledger,

--- Aj

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

That "Female British 1-Hit Wonders of the Late 90's" Blog!!!

T to the G to the I to the F.

A good afternoon to all of you currently being pummeled by this effin' snowstorm. This sucks balls. It's like we're actually living in a snow globe. Actually.

So yesterday I was planning on doing this whole blog entirely devoted to the show Lost, as its fourth season premiere was last night. What ended up happening was me aimlessly trying to summarize the plot of the show up until night and it was just about the hottest mess you've never read. Like not funny at all, just a rambling pile of crap that went no where. Which is why I didn't post it. And good thing, too - if anyone watched the series recap episode that was on immediately before the season premiere, it summed it up much nicer than I could have hoped to. So phew.

I don't know if y'all did watch it, but I was kind of underwhelmed. Lost seems to have two types of episodes: Episodes where shit happens and Episodes that set up shit that will happen. Last night was of the latter.

Something of note: they've continued with their flash-forwards (as opposed to their flash-backs) detailing what happens to several characters in the future when they're off the island. Ding ding ding - we learned that there's an "Oceanic Six"... six of them who become minor celebrities... this presumably means that only six of them survive/make it off the island, but then again, maybe it doesn't. Who fucking knows with this show.

I can tell y'all one thing right now... If but one more motherfucker delivers an incomplete plot point inches away from their last gasp of breath, I'm gonna fucking lose it. For real. This show is the KING of having characters says something expository RIGHT before they die. Think back to the first fucking episode... the pilot, within an inch of his life, tells them that they were [insert number] of miles off course then, without missing a beat, his body's snatched out of the fuselage by the 'monster'. When Cynthia "Libby" Juatros died, she managed to squeeze out 'Michael' before her eyes roll back her head. Charlie - same thing... manages to somehow etch "Not Penny's boat" with a sharpie on his hand as water engulfs him. Then LAST NIGHT that Naomi chick manages to survive a knife being hurled into her back long enough to crawl away, double back, crawl away in a different direction, CLIMB A TREE, swoop down on Kate then radio back to the boat, leave a message for her sister then "*gasp* *gasp* *gasp*... *dead*".

Time to find a new MECHANISM, writers of Lost. Can ONE person die uneventfully? Or better yet, deliver quasi-exposition, then LIVE to finish that thought? Bah... anyway...

IT'S FRIDAY!!! And I haven't done a countdown in a while, so...

ANYONE REMEMBER THE 90'S??? Specifically the years 1996-1999??? Fuck... I sound like someone pitching a Time Life retro anthology or something... which is probably not a bad idea, now that I think of it... I should totally assemble one! ... But that's neither here nor there...

Anyballs - does anyone recall the exponentially large amount of one-hit wonder female acts from the UK that stormed the charts in the mid-late 90's? I sure do.

Perhaps because of, or perhaps in spite of the popularity of the Spice Girls, the late 90's saw a revolving clown-car stocked with British lasses armed with one hit and one hit only... well, at least one hit in North America. I'm sure they were all huge-shit deals on their native soil, but guess who's problem that is? Not mine.

This is either going to be a "OH MY GOD! I TOTALLY REMEMBER THAT!!! YOU'VE DONE IT AGAIN JOHNSTON" read for you or "Why do I possibly give a fuck about this? I'm going to go play fantasy football" read for you.

Either way... I now present My Top 10 Female British One-Hit Wonders Of The Mid-Late 90's!!!

10. ALL SAINTS - "I KNOW WHERE IT'S AT"





I was never a fan of All Saints, but they're too prominent for me to leave off this list - even I can admit that. Some people really liked them... thought of them as a sort of legitimate version of the Spice Girls. I always found them really bland. I thought what they were to the Spice Girls, were like what 98 Degrees were to the Backstreet Boys or something, y'know? Irregardless, Melanie Blatt, Shaznay Lewis and sisters Nicole and Natalie Appleton had a slew of hits in the late 90's including but limited to "I Know Where It's At", "Lady Marmalade", "Pure Shores" and of course, "Never Ever". They've since disbanded, but hinted at a reunion album being in the works at an event in September of last year. Guess what I won't be listening to.

9. BILLIE MYERS - "KISS THE RAIN"





Hello. Can you hear me? Is it lonely where you are? You sound so close but you feel so far - yes, those were the lyrics of the lone hit by Warwickshire native Billie Myers. Propelled by being featured on an episode of Dawson's Creek, "Kiss The Rain" was elevated into the pantheon of wistful chick ballads a-la Paula Cole's "I Don't Wanna Wait", Vanessa Carlton's "A Thousand Miles" and The Cranberries' "Dreams" as go-to songs to play at moments when one is at a fork in the road romantically. After a sophomore effort failed to take with the public, Myers has since left her record label and producing her third release, "Slightly Bitter", independently. And not even her mother cares about this fact.

8. CRUSH - "JELLYHEAD"





Ohhhhh yeah. Lovvved this song. It was part of the invasion of Hi-NRG Eurotrash that was infiltrating airwaves circa-1997. But yeah... not too, too much to tell you about the musical enigma that is Crush. It seems like it was just a project betwixt two British actresses named Donna Air and Jayni Hoy. Donna Air was on some show called "Byker Grove" and became a British MTV personality whose claim to fame was asking Irish family act The Coors how they met. They recorded an album as Crush, that single "Jellyhead" got remixed by Motiv8 and became a sleeper hit. That's pretty much it. As far as I can tell, there are currently no plans for a second album.

7. CLEOPATRA - "CLEOPATRA'S THEME"





Yep. Cleopatra... comin' at'cha. I really only remember them from that super-annoying yet super-"get stuck in your head"-able song above and another minor hit called "Life Ain't Easy", but apparently they were kind of a big deal. Sisters Cleo, Yonah and Zainam Higgins started out as Cleopatra & The Attractions, and were signed to Madonna's Maverick records in '99. They had a string of hits in the UK, and were Covergirl spokesmodels in the US for some triple-lipstick line or something. They had a wildly-successful sitcom in the UK, as well... sort of a Hannah Montana-esque to-do, only times 3 and black. After a shakeup at Warner, their last effort went drastically under-publicized and there was a push to take Cleo - who had written and sung lead on all their hits - solo, but sisterhood is sisterhood and the group left Warner after that, SNAP. They're currently re-signed and working on a new single to drop any day now. Comin' at'cha, indeed.

6. SONIQUE - "IT FEELS SO GOOD"





London-born Sonia Clarke was born to parents of Trinidadian descent. Her mother divorced, remarried, and moved back to Trinidad but Sonique refused to leave England. So she lived on the streets for a while and a some point, got into the progressive club scene in mid-80's London. She hooked up with a gaggle of producers - among them, William Orbit - and was featured vocalist on a slew of dance hits at the dawn of the techno revolution. She eventually moved away from feature vocals to DJ'ing and then producing - which is what spawned her smash hit, "It Feels So Good". She continues to produce and DJ and enjoys spending time in general obscurity.

Palette Cleanser: JIMMY RAY - "ARE YOU JIMMY RAY"





Insofar as novelty songs go, the mid to late 90's were a fucking gold mine. "Macarena". "Mambo No. 5". "Short Dick Man". "Cotton-Eye Joe". However, Jimmy Ray stands alone. My God this song was awesome. I don't think I need to tell you that this was Jimmy Ray's only even-remote hit, but oh... what a contribution. I remember in high school we had a Jimmy Ray day... in which, for no reason at all, it played during lunch hour and everyone went batshit insane. Anyway...

5. SHAMPOO - "TROUBLE"





This is a little bit earlier than the time period I'm concentrating on, but I just HAD to include Shampoo! Jacqui Blake and Carrie Askew were best gal-pals at their Plumstead high school, who were big into the 'zine scene - kinda like blogs before blogs were invented. At some point, they formed the band Shampoo, based on their nickname "The Shampoo Girls" - as they famously told boys that they couldn't go out because they needed to stay home and wash their hair. Several bonafide punk-efforts were released in the early 90's but their biggest hit came off their '94 pop release, "We Are Shampoo". "Trouble" - featured in the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers film - blew up. Hardcore. Because of their fascination with all things pink, shiny and tiny, they became HUGE in Japan and were at one point on a list of the richest women in the UK. It's unknown what the balls they're up to now.

4. SAMANTHA MUMBA - "GOTTA TELL YA"





Petite Irish lass Samantha Mumba was heralded as the "black Britney Spears" for the millisecond that she was popular... Discovered by the manager of Boyzone and Westlife (thought they were the same thing... whatever) during a televise talent competition, she was put into the pop machine and what popped out was the little ditty about 'not givin' it up on the first night' that you see above you. A few other releases followed (which I really enjoyed, actually) including "Always Come Back To Your Love" and "Baby Come On Over Tonight"... themes that might have been a little heavy for her 15-years of age, but whatever. Anyballs, her second album, "Woman" and single, "I'm Right Here" flopped and she was dropped from her label. Apparently, much like EVERYONE ELSE ON THIS LIST, she has a release planned to drop any day now. Notice a trend?

3. GINA G - "OOH, AAH, JUST A LITTLE BIT"





Okay, technically Ms. G isn't British, she's Australian. But it's the same fucking difference. This song HAD to be included in all the Eurotrash I'm slingin' around. Originally a DJ in her native Melbourne, she was chosen to participate in 1996's Eurovision song contest with her song "Ooh, Aah, Just A Little Bit" - which basically thrust her and that boppy song into the spotlight. Recently, she re-entered the Eurovision contest and lost to Katie "Jordan" Price of all people. Beyond that, she's expecting a second child and has no plans to record anything. Which is probably for the best. Lightning like "Ooh, Aah" doesn't strike twice people!

2. DONNA LEWIS - "I LOVE YOU ALWAYS FOREVER"



Okay... here comes one of those songs that was a WAAAAAY bigger hit than you remember it being. It was at Number 2 for NINE weeks back in '96 and the song exceeded more than 1 million spins on radio - a record high at that point in time. Beyond that, she's a Welsh chick. She released a couple of things after that, but nothing caught on. She released an album, "In The Pink" last year and a single, "Shout", is out right now. I haven't heard it. I doubt I will. That's pretty much it.

BUT

THERE

CAN

ONLY

BE

1. B*WITCHED - "C'EST LA VIE"



I know. I know! If anyone is actually interested in this countdown, all you've been wondering is "when the fuck is B*Witched coming up?!?!?" Well, the wait is over. Comprised of sexy Irish teens Sinéad O'Carroll, Lindsay Armaou and twins Edele and Keavy Lynch - they mixed Irish folk and mainstream pop music and purposely cultivated a tomboy image and made off like bandits in the process. EVERY single from their debut album hit Number 1 in the UK - which must be some sort of record. Although they achieved marginal success over here, "C'est La Vie" still stands as one of the most quintessential pop songs of the 90's. And that's why they numba 1.

Shoot. That was kind of boring. Not gonna lie.

Not boring? VOTING! Today is your last day to vote for Bitch YOU Loved/Hated for the month of January!!! We are currently in a three-way tie for Bitch YOU Hated, so please - vote for the Bitch YOU Hated This Month! And, to make the shit even, vote for the Bitch YOU Loved This Month!

Smell ya later,

--- Aj

Haute Topics

Can I get a what-what? ... No, I can't.

Ahhhh... why hello, and welcome to my home. I'm nicely rested today after my 12-hour bout with the giggles yesterday caused by squarely by the phrase "We are holding Jesus ransom until you clean up the poopie from your wieners"... man... People must have thought I was fucking stoned out of my mind yesterday... I was just walking along, laughing hysterically to myself, pausing intermittently to sigh because I was laughing so much it hurt... bah... anyway...

Sooooo... some things:

A.) WORKING FOR THE TTC IS LIKE GOING TO VIETNAM

According to a study conducted by the venerable Toronto Star, a staggering 200 TTC (Toronto Transit Commission for all you non-Torontonians) workers suffer from severe stress brought on by acts of violence either impaired to them or witnessed by them.

It recounts tales of bus, streetcar and subway operators being punched, kicked, gang-rushed, spat upon even shot at and the quintessential stories of subway operators witnessing suicides via-subway tracks (which is truly the most selfish form of suicide... not only are you taking your own life, but compromising the schedule of others. For shame. Subway jumpers, along with teenage mothers and handicapped people on the TTC, are part of a group of people I call "pirates of my convenience". Maybe I shouldn't have admitted that. Ahhh well...)

Hmmm... there are kinda two sides of the coin here. Study after study have shown that commuting is the worst part of an urbanites' day, so right away there's inherent rage. On top of that THE COST TO RIDE THE TTC IS ASTRONOMICAL!!! In the above article, a solid fucking third of it talks about how fares will have to increase YET AGAIN to up the worker's salaries, pay for shields, a U.S. consultant firm to review the situation blah blah blah blah blah. Where the fuck is it going to end???

Why the fuck does mass transit work - and for much, MUCH less money and much, MUCH more efficiently - in other cities such as Montreal, New York, Boston and D.C. I really don't know what's wrong with this picture... if only I followed my dream of becoming an urban geographer... (for serious: I'm a HUGE SimCity buff)... ahhh well...

A solution I can see is creating some sort of passport system exclusive to the TTC that would need to be scanned to A.) confirm your 'character' and B.) keep record of who was where, when kinda-thing... I think that would be a solution, albeit pricey.

Failing that... Good old-fashioned racial and/or class profiling was helpful more than it was ever hurtful, so there's that... = )

B.) OSCAR NOMS OSCAR NOMS OSCAR NOMS!!! (no one [except Yerxa] cares)

Yep. Yawn. This morning, Hollywood It-girl Kathy Bates (not really), fresh from what I'd have to assume her early morning dump, took to the podium and announced this year's nominee's for a golden fella named Oscar.

And no one fucking cares. Yawn Yawn Yawn. Best Actor race is Daniel Day Lewis' to lose. Johnny Depp'll prove his only competition - hopefully the Deppster can finally pull off a win! Best Actress race is betwixt haggard screen siren Julie Christie for keepin' it real in 'Zheimer-fest "Away From Her" or some French chick for a movie about another French chick (I know it's Marion Cottilard and I know it's Edith Piaf... I was just trying to be apathetic to be cool) leaving pint-sized Canadian lesbo Ellen Page in the dust. In fact, the only real surprises came in the Best Actress category, which saw several popular choices shut out...

Sorry, Jessica. Next year.

But the REAL excitement comes in the Best Supporting Actor category, which is stacked with MAJOR movie-star heart-throb names like Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Hal Holbrook and - oh God, I don't know if I can get out this last name without ejaculating - Tom Wilkinson! Wow, can't wait to see how those cards fall. I'm kidding of course. And that statue will go to Javier Bardem for that Coen brothers picture.

And then Best Supporting Actress will likely go to Cate Blanchett, making it her second Oscar. Yes. Cate Blanchett will have two Oscars. Talk about a wacky Wednesday (does anyone remember that book??? It was AWESOME!)

Anyway, adding the absolute dullness of this year's crop is the fact that the ceremony will be devoid of any sort of levity and wit whatsoever. Bruce Vilanch, who's sat in as head-writer for many telecasts since the early 90's, told EW.com that today would be the absolute last day for the Writer's Guild and studio's to reach an agreement and have the show go off without a hitch - seeing as much of the show isn't written until they know who the nominees are. So there. The Oscar's is gonna suck musky, musky balls this year.

I was so looking forward to Jon Stewart hosting again. Those attack add parodies they did when he hosted the first year killed me. KILLED me. Ohhh well...

3.) AMY WINEHOUSE IS i.) BACK TO BEING A BEE-HIVED BRUNETTE, ii.) VIDEOTAPED DOING CRACK AND PEOPLE SEEM SOMEWHAT SURPRISED

Yepper skeppers.

After a brief love/[hate] affair with blonde, Great Britain's jewel of neo-soul is back rocking her signature brunette bee-hive.

I don't even know why she would fuck with that - IT'S HER SIGNATURE LOOK! And you know how important signature looks are.

Granted, I didn't make the best case for her blonde locks with picture provided, but I think we can all agree - she's much better dark.

In other Winehouse news: Bitch certainly didn't take a page out of the Whitney Houston "I make waaaay too much money to eva smoke crack... Crack is Whack" handbook recently when she was both photographed and videographed by a "friend" getting cozy with a crack pipe.

Number 1.) Make some new fucking friends. Friends who don't tape you doing crack with their phone then sell your ass out.

More importantly,

Number 2.) DON'T DO CRACK!!! As per gleamed from Whitney Houston, IT'S WHACK!!!

Anyway, here's the video. Because, y'know, it's fun...

Done like Donda [West],

--- Aj