Reaching a Klymaxx

Straight up: I'm hungover right now.

I kind of have been all week. It's been one of those weeks. But I won't get into that right now. I've had a little bit of a situation to deal with that I'm mere steps away from being Katharine-McPhee-quotingly "Over It"... but yeah...

WHAT A WEEK!

Through my boozey haze, it's not gone unnoticed how crazy things have been... firstly, there's been some sort of kerfuffle in the financial world that my boss and other crazy rich people like him are in a downright tizzy about.

CRAZY, TRUE STORY: He actually needed to go to a funeral this week of some financial dude he knows who committed suicide because of it!!! It's like the old tymey days of the depression when stock brokers jumped out of windows and people have to ration bread crumbs!!! Hot diggity, somebody put on some music for me to Charleston to!

Anyballs... I'm in the arts living directly ON the poverty line, so not too much is going to change for me.

We have an election coming up here, as well... this coming Tuesday, October 14th... which just so happens to coincide with:

THAT'S RIGHT!!! THIS COMING TUESDAY!!! Go and vote, then celebrate the democracy you've just demonstrated by taking a Journey to the Isle of Lesbos!!! FUN!



OH - and, because if we at Bitch Salad are anything we're topical, we'll be welcoming SUPER SPECIAL GUEST... ... ... ... SARAH PALIN!!! Yep!

She'll be stopping by to promote lesbianism as a form of abstinence. Because really, that's what it is. I mean, what exactly happens there?! Not sex, that's all I know. = )

Anyballs...

As I was saying, we do have an election coming up, and as such, I was invited to come and do some talking head thing for MTV.

It was perhaps 5 minutes before I shot this that it occurred to me that I don't even remotely follow Canadian politics and have absolutely no fucking clue what I'm going to say.

I think I just kept saying "I love that bitch from the Green Party! She's CRAZY!" over and over again. I also think I said I liked her because she was like Vicki Gabereau-meets-Courtney Love. I found out some time after this that her name is Elizabeth May, of course. I had no clue at the time. So yeah. That didn't go so swimmingly...

I'll be voting Liberal, natch. Always have, always will. But I live in Jack Layton's riding, so it won't make much difference.

One piece of homegrown Election news that I found interesting appeared to me on my daily scanning of Queer Click (the link is extremely, purposefully NSFW... so don't go there lest ye be bombarded by images of cock...) - which is basically a blog that rounds up gay porn site updates (with a pretty blatant penchant for foreskin, but that might just be me) that occasionally includes a round up of news stories relevant to the gay community, and this little item jumped out at me...

In short... the lone gay conservative candidate, like, ever, resigned because of controversial comments he made on a [now-defunct] blog.

Comments to the tune of: "Allow law-abiding citizens who are qualified and trained to carry concealed handguns for personal protection. It's the only proven way to reduce violent crime and murder. If women and gays really wanted to stop being victims of hate crimes, they'd be in support of this, but judging from discussions, they'd rather be helpless and rely on government."

Y'know, good old fashioned crazy-talk like that.

CRAZY TRUE STORY: I went to University with him. I believe he's actually on my facebook. I seem to recall getting an invite from him to an event entitled "I'm voting conservative in the next election!" and was like "SHWHAT?! Helllllllllll to the no." and then thought to myself, "Isn't he a fag? And he's conservative? Now I've seen everything". So yeah. Nuts!

Wasn't all of that completely pointless and incoherent? It's what happens when I attempt to talk politics. I should just stick to what I know...

And what I DO know, it's hot, crazy bitches...

I.E. - my new obsession...

KLYMAXX!!!


I don't know why Klymaxx aren't a bigger deal. Klymaxx was 6-piece, all-girl band made up of a gaggle of dark 'n lovely sistahs each darker and lovelier than the last. Of note: they all played instruments. More of note: their signature touch included a boastful, sassy monologue at the beginning of their songs - not a rap, mind you, but a monologue. Check this shit out:

Yep... let's review that...

"Uh, I had to leave my condo to come to this /
Well, I’m back, but this time I’m with my man /
And these women are puttin’ their hands all over his Yamamoto Kanzai sweater that I bought /
And I’m much, much unhappy about that /
I’d hate to come down to their level and become a BW - A Basic Woman /
But if they don’t stop it’s gonna get scandalous"

Yeah. For real. AMAZING!!!

And this:

Again, review...

"I know I was lookin' good /
I had my Kenneth Cole shoes on /
My Gianni Versace blue leather suit /
My nails were done and my hair was fierce /
And I was riding in a Cooper's limousine /
Don't you want to ride..."

I'm really starting to get the impression that these ladies are quite tasteful. What with the mentions of driving in Cooper's limousines and the wearing of a blue leather suit. Oh-la-la.

Anyballs... I'm about to peace out for the weekend. Back to Brockville, cuz y'all, it be Thanksgiving.

But before I go, here's something for your weekend... it's the Bitch Salad: Journey To The Isle of Lesbos mix!

Originally, I had intended to make the mix, like the show, entirely Sapphic, and strictly feature remixes of artists who eat pussy.

As you can imagine, that was a little limited.

So I just said "EFF IT!" and went top 40... the tracklisting...

John Legend feat. Andre 3000 - Green Light (Johnny Douglas Mix)
Coldplay - Viva La Vida (Telemitry Mix)
Katy Perry - Hot 'N Cold (Jason Nevins Mix)
Hilary Duff - Reach Out (Touch Me) (Chico & Bermudez Mix)
Tami Chynn feat. Akon - Frozen (Ralphi Rosario Mix)
Vanessa Hudgens - Sneakernight (Alberto Castillo Mix)
Kreesha Turner - Don't Call Me Baby (Digital Dog Mix)
Chris Brown - Forever (Bobby Bass & J Remy Mix)
Jordin Sparks - One Step At A Time (Jason Nevins Mix)
Pink - So What (Bimbo Jones Mix)
Natasha Bedingfield - Angel (Moto Blanco Mix)
Neyo - Closer (Norty Cotto Mix)
Jilly Scott - Golden (Grant Nelson Mix)
Lindsay Lohan - Bossy (Soulshaker Mix)

Download/Listen to it HERE!

Have a great weekend.

Try not to come down to the level of a BW - a Basic Woman.

--- Aj

WWEBD???

Whoa.

Hold up.

First off - what the balls does that mean, you ask?

Well, it's short form for my current catchphrase and affirmative mantra, "What Would Elayne Boosler Do?"

WHO, you may ask, is Elayne Boosler? And that's a shame.

That you'd have to ask at all. *Sigh-on-behalf-of-the-great-Boosler*.

Elayne Boosler is THE quintessential lady-comic from the 80's, right down to her charmeuse vest and mullette'd Jewess fro.

Check out some of her zingers:

- “We have women in the military, but they don't put us in the front lines. They don't know if we can fight, if we can kill. I think we can. All the general has to do is walk over to the women and say, 'You see the enemy over there? They say you look fat in those uniforms.'”

- “My ancestors wandered lost in the wilderness for forty years because even in biblical times, men would not stop to ask for directions”

- “When women are depressed, they eat or go shopping. Men invade another country."

And of course... the ULTIMATE Booslerism...

- "I just discovered a new brand - super-extra-sensitive condoms. Wow, do they stick around and talk to you after the guy leaves?"

And just to give you the faintest taste of her on stage persona, I compel you to watch this clip of her at Comic Relief, 198something...

Yeah. She's like the hyper-liberated, tart-tongued best friend of Cathy from the Cathy comics. Like "Elayne! You can't say that!"... at which point BamBoosler would reply to Cathy, "Oh yeah? WATCH ME."

Anyballs - I've been obsessed with Elayne Boosler. Particularly because I've recently been touring exponentially more than I usually do, and finding myself in front of a brick wall background (because yes, a lot of comedy clubs steadfastly retain that stereotypical aestethic), surrounded by unbelievably zany headshots of comics from yore. Why, just this past weekend in London, Ontario, I found myself sharing personal space with none other than a signed 8x10 circa 1988 of none other than Judy Tenuta. Holy fuck. (Apparently, back in the 80's, the BamBoosler was too big for London...)

So yeah... "What Would Elayne Boosler Do?" has gotten me through many a sticky comedy situations over the past couple of weeks. Not answering the question, just saying it. Mainly abbreviated - WWEBD? It's just fun to say. Because in truth, odds are what Elayne Boosler would actually end up doing is making some underhanded jab at men then asking, "ladies, am I right?" Class frickin' act, that Boosler.

I really don't know why I felt compelled to tell you all of that. I'm kind of medicated right now - I've got that cold that everyone's got... and I'm going to catch the premiere open dress rehearsal of "The Sound of Music" tonight. So we'll see how enchanting that is to sit through with a head cold. I'm guessing not very.

Something that will enchant the pants clear off your bums, and, in some cases, frums?

WE'RE BACK!

A very, VERY special edition that, for realsies, I've been trying to do since DECEMBER of last year... yep, this has basically been a year in the making. Your options are kind of limited, though, when there are like, 6 lesbians comics in this country to choose from and you need 5, so yeah. But, at long last, Bitch Salad: Journey To The Isle of Lesbos is happening!!!

Anyballs... I'm off to get The Lonely Goatherd stuck in my head for all eternity.

--- Aj

FrenEmmy's

Eh? Eh???

That's how I feel about the Emmy's. On one hand, I love them because it's a plentiful kudos-fest honouring the brightest stars of prime time TV. On the other hand, I hate them because most of the time they suck giant squid balls (or whatever sort of genitalia those elusive crustaceans boast)...

After a positively exhausting (in a good way) weekend in Kitchener, slinging jokes at Yuk Yuks like a regular Elayne Boosler, I come home to find a gruesomely awful offering of recorded fare from this weekend past: the, hands-down, WORST episode of SNL in recent memory - hosted by James Franco, who methinks takes himself a titch too seriously - and last night's Emmy telecast.

As it turns out, this year was the first year that an award was presented in the category of "Best Reality Show Host", and someone finagled the cockamamie idea that "hey! what if we had all of them host the show?!?!?"... file that one under 'it seemed like a good idea the time'... it was bad... horrendously so.

After a polite "Happy 60th Birthday, Emmys" address by a noticeably heavier-than-I-remember-her Oprah Winfrey, the 5 reality show hosts - Survivor's Jeff Probst, American Idol's Ryan Seacrest, Dancing With The Stars' Tom Bergeron, Deal Or No Deal's Howie "Don't touch my hands" Mandel, and Project Runway's Heidi Klum (who, really, might as well have been a fucking blowup doll, she was so useless... her 'schtick' seemed to revolve around her being attractive and a girl all night... which is historically never funny... but no... she would literally blow kisses in lieu of delivering what would have traditionally been zingers to conclude her segues...) - and it all just dissolved right into shit from the word 'go'.

You'd think they'd have learned their lesson last year when Seacrest hosted it solo, but no... apprently the grand notion was that 5 Seacrests would be better than 1, but how wrong they were.

This is precisely why, right here, RIGHT now, I am kicking off the campaign to bring Kathy Griffin in next year... she's the only one who could save this pile of puke, and, for realsies, what do they have to lose? It'd be raucous and unpredictable, colorful and anticipated... she's the only big-name comedian who's buzz-worthily relevant without being too MTV-ish. KATHY G IN 2009!!!

Speaking of Kathy G, out-and-out highlight was the pairing of her with the chairman, Don Rickles - who's commendably still 'with it' at his staggering 82

 years of age.

In a refreshing display of "fuck it up the ass... what the balls do I have to lose?", Rickles slammed the powers-that-be, mocking the uninventive patter and stole the show in the process. He actually won an Emmy later, too. So there ya go. Cake and eating said cake, too.

Other [scant] highlights included, but are not limited to:

- I don't know how the balls they finagled it, but some of the [memorable] cast members of Laugh In dragged their 70-something-year-old asses up there to present the best variety series award. Members included Gary Owens, Alan Sues (one of the first gays on network TV!),Lily Tomlin (who, you'd'a thunk, would have better things to do, but meh), RUTH BUZZI (who's AMAZING... she's like the original Rachel Dratch... she's sorely underrated... let me tell ya), and of course, the finest manifestation of the universe, Miss JoAnne Worley. 

It's, of course, no secret that I have a bit of a thing for JoAnne Worley - whose voice you may well recognize as Hoppopotamus from The Wuzzles... - and gazing at her visage to left, to the left,  I can't imagine you'd wonder why. 

Anyballs... Pressing on...

- The dude who won for writing that heavily lauded John Adams biopic getting cut off about 5 seconds into his speech... and then, precisely when he's trying to make a very poignant point about back then the United States was all about articulating arguments and democracy democracy democracy blah blah blah - they cut to a bumper promoting the best reality series award... ouch... ouch ouch ouch!!! So he goes from something like "this is especially important at a time when our country is at such a crossro-"-CUT TO-"Will it be Top Chef, American Idol, Bad Girls Club..." It was SO graceless. AMAZING!

- I was wondering what business Lauren Conrad had being there, and, from the looks of it, so did David Boreanaz. That made me very happy.

- WHAT THE BALLS WAS THAT JOSH GROBAN BULLSHIT ALL ABOUT?!?!?! If you haven't seen it... please... share the pain...

Yeah. I really don't know how to explain that. However, I don't think it was so much him being like "I'm Josh Groban. I don't take myself too seriously, and now's my chance to prove it!" as much as it was him thinking "I'm Josh Groban. I can truly do anything. If anyone has any doubts about why I'm David Foster's buttboy, this will surely silence them!". Yeah. That was fucked.

- Tommy Smothers getting a special Emmy. I'll tell you precisely why Tommy Smothers getting an Emmy - well, fuck, getting mentioned at all - is significant for me, and the answer may shock and amaze you... the year was 1966... Tommy Smothers, vacationing in Alberta's rocky mountains, met a 

young nurse at a popular five-star resort... a winsome, raven-haired young lady named Cheryl Cassidy. The two hit off right then and there and began a torrid, however brief, affair.

Why is this important? Because that winsome, raven-haired young lady Cheryl Cassidy grew up to become MY MOM!!! AHHHH!!! TOMMY SMOTHERS WAS ALMOST MY DAD!!! I WAS ALMOST ANDREW SMOTHERS!!! 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

So yeah... 

And, of course, highlight of highlights...

- Elizabeth Samatina Fey takes home three effin' Emmys. One for writing, one for best comedy series (2nd year in a row) and one for best actress in a comedy series. That made me so happy, it's wrong. Just wrong. This woman is the genius of her generation and anyone who argues this needs to be shot.

Alec Baldwin - who also very deservingly won best actor in a comedy series (apparently his first win) - said some garbage about how she's the Elaine May of her generation. Ummm, no. Try the Mark Twain of her generation. 

NO - actually, fuck that - try the Aristotle of her generation.

NOOO - scrap all of that above shit - try the Jesus Q. Shakespeare of her generation.

NOOOOOOOO - forget EVERYTHING I said above - try the Shelley Long of her generation.

Yes... to me, comparing someone to Shelley Long IS the highest compliment you can give someone. Because, y'see, I'm fucked up. 

Anyballs... thought I'd mention that if, in the off-chance in my most desperate fantasy that Tina Fey actually reads my blog, I at least said it.

So yeah.

C'est tout.

Till tomorry,

--- Aj

At long last: ANTM Doppelgangbang...

Hello sugars...

Can this week die already? Jeez LouISE.

I'm presently alone in my office listening to "Life Is A Highway" by the ever-enigmatic Tom Cochrane - which is all too fitting considering the amount of time I'll be spending on the highway this weekend and next... this Friday Imma comin' to Kitchener/Waterloo and next to majestic London, Ontario - so if you're in either of those places, come to Yuk Yuks and see me. And we'll make out. Probably.

Anyballs - onto much, much, MUCH important fare... namely:

MY SEMI-ANNUAL ASSESSMENT OF THE GIRLS FROM THE CURRENT CYCLE OF AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MODEL AND WHO THE BALLS THEY LOOK LIKE!!!

Yep...

Well, makeovers happened last night, so it would have just been pointless of me to do this before then - before their looks have settled. But now it's open season...

Something I've noticed this season, as per compared to other cycles, is that all these bitches look like crosses of something and something. Like, no one looks like any one person definitively... they're all ____ meets ____... for instance...

Icy blonde stunner Lauren Brie...


Is a cross between Rachel McAdams circa Mean Girls and Charlize Theron (although personality-wise she reminds me of Cerie from 30 Rock... nevertheless...)

Potential slave to a Saudi Arabian Analeigh (or rather Anal Lee as I know her...)

Comprised of grimey psychopath Denise Richards and self-photographer Miley Cyrus...

All-American girl next door Samantha...

Equal parts she-hulk Brooke Hogan and electro-pop hipster princess Robyn... (pretty much because of the hair... you know you thought the same thing, and for no other reason than the fucking hair...)

Tranny-hating tophy wife-in-training Clark...

One part shrill sensationalist demagogue Ann Coulter, one part 80's era Cher...

Painfully awkward Marseille-ite Marjorie...

Pre-anorexic Claire Danes, meet Hilary Swank as Brandon Teena from Boys Don't Cry...

Unusually lip'd, unfortunately named boxer McKey...

... the sunned love child of Canadian supermodel Linda Evangelista, and Tim Curry as Frank 'N Furter in The Rocky Horror Picture Show...

Tickety-tock tranny Isis...

... the result of dulcet songstress Sade, and Angel from Rent.

Latest evictee from the Top Model house Brittany...

Equals the broad appeal of Halle Berry plus the just-so placed facial hair of Frida Khalo...

High-pitched good time girl Joslyn...

... the result of former SNL funnywoman Ellen Cleghorne and an unidentified sperm donor...

Newly highlighted Asian girl from 'da hood Sheena...

An exciting cross between the "Rachel" from the Japanese version of Friends - Koharu Kusumi - and popular science fiction starlet (not to mention the daughter for action hero Steven Segal...), Ayako Fujitani... yeah... I got nothin'... sorry... Sheena just looked like any other gentrified Asian chick you'd see on the corner of Dundas and Spadina...

Smoulderingly racist Alaskan Hannah...

The incredibly distasteful duo of emaciated songbird Karen Carpenter and latest kidnapped 'It'-girl Madeline McCann...

And lastly... drastically made-over bixsexual stunner Elina...

Patron Saint of all things sensuous Angelina Jolie, and early-90's shit disturber Curly Sue...

That was an effin' good movie. I think I'm going to buy it today.

Yeah.

Anyballs...

Until tomorrow,

--- Aj

Sweatdrops Sweatdrops Sweatdrops!!!

And a pleasant Wednesday to you and yours.

So what has it been? Since last Wednesday? Woo-howdy, I need to get on top of this shit. So much hath transpired since then...

First off: I'm well aware that I have yet to say but two words about the current crop of gals on the 11th glorious season of America's Next Top Model... but rest assured, my requisite blog appointing all the girls' doppelgangers is well under way... I typically wait for the makeovers before I cast any judgement...

Secondly: Thursday I got a call out of the blue that I was to come in and showcase at Yuks for a corporate client. Showcases are to comics what go-see's are to Top Models, y'see... Anyballs, guess who the client was? A lesbian softball association. Yep. With orders to keep it as inoffensive as possible and lesbo-sensitive. Yeah. Suffice to say, I didn't get the gig. I knew I should have busted out of my A League of Their Own material (which, by the way, I have an unsurprising abundance of...)

B'aaanyway, I spent the weekend drunk out of my skull, just like old times, which was nice.

Saturday night saw the birthday of Alex "Faith" Brown (named "Faith" after the now infamous armless canine who's captured the hearts of millions... :

... weird.) for which we were supposed to depart to at 11 PM. Then someone threw out the suggestion that we "just watch the first sketch" of SNL's season premiere. Yeah. That never happens. We ended up watching the whole fucking thing.

So yeah... on the whole, not great. They are going to be BEYOND screwed when Amy Poehler leaves in a few short weeks. BEYOND screwed. Casey Wilson, as lovely as she seems, isn't working. It's not going to happen. Put her out to pasture in a supporting role on a spin-off of The Office or something, but get her out of there.

That new fat guy could go either way. I'm going to reserve judgement of him until precisely the third episode, as I didn't necessarily "get" Fred Armisen right away either... little did I know he'd grow into Nicholas Fehn and of course, Nuni of "Nuni & Nuni" fame. If you don't know what I'm talking about right now, you probably think I'm a.) boring and b.) crazy. Which is quite a commendable combination of things to be, not gonna lie.

Anyballs... Andy Samberg ruled my fucking life with his impression of Cathy of Cathy Guisewite's Cathy comic strip fame... And to think... Cathy was the Carrie Brandshaw of her day back in the late 70's... WAKE ME UP WHEN I'M A SIZE 5!!! Ladies... am I right?

However, that Jar Glove thing made me lose it.

Kristen Wiig - thank God for you.

And of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the thing that everyone's been talking about... Tina Fey's triumphant return as Sarah Palin...

Yep... probably the most must-see [live] thing to come out of that show since the infamous Debbie Downer giggle-fest of aught-Four... it's been EVERYWHERE recently.

Poehler and Fey, together again - already a dream scenario - channelling Sarah Palin and Hilary Clinton - another dream scenario - talkin' sexism.

If you were Hilary Clinton, I think one of your absolute saving graces must be when Amy Poehler does you. Because not only does Amy Poehler cause things to be awesome simply by association, but because each and every time she spoofs Hilary, very prevalent issues are brought to light and things are said that Hilary could neither bring to light nor say herself without being completely vilified by the press. Like, if you were to be watching it with Hilary, it must just be 5 straight minutes of her yelling at the TV, "THANK YOU! See?! SEE?! Oh, TOTALLY! YES! Oh my God, ME TOO! I know!"

It's so astoundingly true that the issue of sexism isn't factoring into anyone's treatment of Palin, and it's largely because Hilary made 15,000,000 cracks in that ceiling. Kind of unfair that all Palin had to do was peck at it with the duress of a baby duck cracking through its egg shell to shatter that ceiling and all of a sudden, be taken seriously.

Of course, another reason that sexism isn't playing a huge role in persecuting Sarah Palin, could be that the bitch has done more than enough ass-crazy shit to easily overshadow that.

DID YOU KNOW: Sarah Palin forced rape victims to pay for their own exams.

Yes. Under Sarah Palin, rape victims - or, rather, rape-ee's, if you will - had to buy their own "rape kits" - or, rather, rapeables, if you will - to collect the necessary evidence to convict their offenders.

Of course, this begs the obvious: I guess somebody's never been raped. Because from what I've heard, it's not a terribly pleasant experience, and usually, people who have been raped don't like to be reminded of this fact. I can't imagine running price comparisons and checking customer referrals on different brands of "rape kits" is at the top of anyone's list of things they love to do.

On the other hand, maybe Sarah Palin's totes been raped, and just thinks "ahhh, what's good for the goose is good for the gander".

But probably not.

Naturally, given the fact that Palin is also against abortion in cases of rape and/or incest, this basically means: SARAH PALIN DOES NOT BELIEVE IN RAPE. Or dinosaurs.

So that's all very grim and depressing, isn't it?

But... in lighter Palin-related news, this thing is mayhaps the greatest thing I've ever seen.
It's The Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator!

Taking a cue from the zany names of Sarah Palin's children (Track, Trig, Bristol, Willow, and Piper), this highly scientific device generates what your name would be if you were blessed enough to be born of Sarah Palin...

What's yours?! Mine is: Lock Pepper Palin.

Good times.

Well not really.

It's terribly depressing to think that this woman might soon be leader of the free world (because make no mistake about it... John McCain will die. Like, 2 days after whomever's elected gets elected. He will. He'll fall down in the shower or something, but he will.)

Anyway, no matter how terrible things get, always remember - at least your arms aren't as fat as Jordin Sparks'.

--- Aj

PS - Slight photoshopographic exaggeration. Only slight, though.

Ahhh Wednesday...

A day when we pay ode to its namesake, the 7th century Anglo Saxon god Woden.

I know that's how I spend each and every Wednes-or, rather, Wodensday... I assume you follow suit...

Yeah. No. Can you believe that shit, though? I always wondered what Wednesday's deal was... and that's it. It's named after a gnome-like god from middle earth. So there you have it.

Glurg. So the TIFF rages on... According to Rex Reed, it's been so bad it's downright assailable... apparently it used to be something quite snazzy... where "fans and critics and movie moguls all stayed in the Sutton Place Hotel and turned the Bistro 990 across the street into their local commissary, trading anecdotes with John Cassevetes and hanging out with Clint Eastwood"... now it's plagued by "gridlock & greed"... it's quite a scathing read, actually...

I typically like to finagle myself into at least one party per year, and passed up perhaps my only chance of going to this Italian cinema affair last night in lieu of cleaning. Well, it wasn't just because I had to clean my apartment... it was also because this party was held on a boat. I don't do boats. You can't leave boats.

So it looks like I'm just going to have to fraudulently assume the identity of a random celebrities' handler and request tickets to the closing night gala on their behalf like I did nigh on 3 years ago... for realz: at the time I was working for a publicist who was working on a movie starring - and I use the term "starring" so loosely a blue whale could swim through it - Stephen Baldwin, and apparently he'd be in town for it and wanted to go. So my boss told me to call the festival office and request four tickets to the closing night gala and the party. She said that it would be a hassle and she'd likely have to handle it herself, but I should try.

So I did. I called them up and said, "Hi, I'm calling from [the virtually unknown company I formerly worked for] and we're representing [The random piece of shit movie he was in] starring Stephen Baldwin. Mr. Baldwin will be in town this coming Saturday and wishes to come to the gala and the closing night ceremony."

...

TIFF chick on other line: "K. How many tickets do you need?"

Just. That. Easy. I got him 4 and arranged to have them picked up under my name. I went, snatched them and that was that. Now, initially they really were, in fact, for Stephen Baldwin, then he backed out and I got them instead. But yeah. I'll plan on doing that this year as well. So huzzah.

In other news:

Elizabeth Hasselbeck continues to be a collossal mongoloid:

Oh no she di'in't!

Sooooooooooooo many things are wrong about this. First off: I'm the only thing Michelle Obama didn't want to discuss was the dead horse that is Barack Obama's ties to Reverend Jeremiah Wright that Elizabeth has beaten to dust, and the only reason Michelle didn't want to discuss it is because it would have saved her from bitch slapping Elizabeth had she brought it up! Michelle Obama means business! Secondly: Cindy McCain has nothing to hide because she has nothing to show... bitch is dumb as a box of hair... she's like a dumber, sexagenarian version of Holly Madison. Thirdly: I don't know if you watch The View, and even if you do, I don't know if you saw Elizabeth's recap from the RNC, but it showed her interviewing other Republican celebrities in attendance... among the big names: Jon Voight and Stephen Baldwin. See... it all comes back to Stephen Baldwin.

I haven't seen The View yet today, but I wonder if they addressed this little jab.

In other, other news:

In her teenage years Angelina Jolie:

a.) was still sexy...

b.) had an affinity for polka dots...

c.) hadn't yet mastered 'finding the light'....

If THESE photos are an indication...


In other, other, other news:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! BABIES WEARING HIGH-HEELS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Until tomorrow,

--- Aj

The Not-So-Secret Life of Bee's Knees...

And it's official. I've lost whatever panache I was once had for making up titles. Holy balls, that was dreadful.

So hey. Sorry for my absence yesterday, but I was so bowled over from this weekend that I needed a day to just stare at the wall and readjust. Or whatever.

This past weekend was absolute hilarity-ness. Friday, 6PM - saw me and two compatriots who'll go nameless as per their request venture down to Roy Thomson Hall right here in Toronto to do something we'd surely never done before and even surer still will never do again - stalk the red carpet.

And why? Because encroaching our fair city this weekend? One Miss Jennifer K. Hudson is who.

In town to premiere her latest acting endeavour, The Secret Life of Bees - a movie based a book that tells the tale of racial dynamics betwixt blacks and whites (and bees) set against the backdrop of tumultuous 60's North Carolina (primarily beehives therein)... or something...

Anyballs - we got there at like 5:15 and about 8-10 minutes later it set in... "I can't believe we're doing this" - and wanted to leave. Then I convinced them that "y'all... this is the only time that we're going to get to see J Hud in this capacity. After this, the Oscar buzz will have worn off and she'll be relegated to films starring Martin Lawrence... so the least we can do is witness this". So we stayed.

At around 5:45 the first car pulled up and it was none other than the progressively maturing Dakota Fanning. She bolted over to the unwashed masses, smile a'glowing, and signed many an autograph and took many a photo op. When she passed by us in ear shot, I asked her who her celebrity crush was, and then followed up as to whether or not it was Charlie Rose - an obvious reference to The Dakota Fanning Show, which I assume is chastely true to life.

Next to arrive was songstress and co-star Alicia Keys, who also made sufficient rounds with the peanut gallery. Let me tell ya - from my estimation, the Proactiv is working. You go, girl.

Next up HAD to be Hudson... COME ON! But no... t'was Queen Latifah... who looks considerably smaller than I thought she'd be... but I have to reason that's just because she's usually the requisite 'large & in charge sistah'... Anyballs, she also punched the plebeian clock, and again, drifted dangerously close to my brood of destructively ironic homos who were heard to have yelled at her: "We loved you on Fresh Prince!" Yeah. This was met by a roll of her royal eyes.

So it's nearly show time and no Hudson to be seen anywhere, which made got me su-huuuper pissed because the only reason I dared intermingle myself with these bonafide gawkers was to ask her what her favourite movie was, what her favourite part of that movie was, and what she thought of that part - all of which she detailed in her B-Roll interview from movie night in Season 3 of American Idol:

Yeah. It's a thing in my act. I just wanted it on camera. Anyballs - she finally shows, scooting out of a car parked way the balls up from where we were, works the crowd very momentarily before being whisked through the press lineup. My cries of "JENNIFER!!! WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE MOVIE?!?! IS IT SISTER ACT 2?!?! WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE PART OF THAT MOVIE?!?! IS IT 'DA PART WHEN WHOOPI GETS GLUED TO 'DA CHAIR?!?! WAS IT HIL-A-RIOUS?!?!?" went largely unanswered.

Anyballs - I got the whole thing on tape, so I'll edit that shit together and post it here and it'll be hilarious.

So that was item worth discussing # 1...

#2.) VMA tyme.

Since the late 80's, I have ne'er missed an installment of the MTV Video Music Awards. I think they're the most zeitgeist-y thing out there. I love taking - and studying - a snapshot of pop culture at any given time and this Awards show often provides the Polaroid. [Sidebar: Did you know that the very first MTV VMA's were hosted by Dan Ayckroyd and Better Midler??? Yes. The show where Madonna historically writhed around on the floor singing "Like A Virgin" was presided over by Dan Ayckroyd and Bette Midler.]

Well, whatever suspicions anyone had that Ayckroyd and Midler would return as respective host and hostess of this year's 25th anniversary (read: no one had those suspicious. NO ONE) were quashed when British funnyman Russell Brand took the stage after a hopelessly anti-climactic opening 'skit' featuring Britney Spears.

K... Russell Brand... one word: LIMEY. If that's the pinnacle of brilliance insofar as the UK's standup scene, then I don't know what. I thought it was limp. I thought he might be trying to do things that he thought would appeal to an American audience, but it just looked like he didn't understand the language he was speaking - kinda like the odd time an older road-comic goes on Video On Trial and tries to speak in youth lingo and make pop-cultural comments... - so very, very sad.

Anyballs... other things of note:

- Britney Spears finally won... three awards at that, including the top prize, Video of the Year for the thoroughly unexceptional "Piece of Me". They might as well have named it the "Most Famous Person Actually In Attendance Gets This" award... anyballs - it's so, SO crazy to see her back in her robotic, guarded mode... "I'm speechless. I'd like to thank God and my two beautiful little boys, and of course, m'fans. Thanks, y'all!" Yeah, uh Britney... we've seen you attack a car with an umbrella whilst raving in a faux-British accent, not to mention your squalid pussy too many times to count. The jig is up. Please stop acting like you're this untouchable pop star anymore. Thanks. Love - Aj.

- Two things about Rihanna that are disproportionate to her natural composition: i.) her thighs and ii.) her fame.

- Although I'm as big a fan of Christina "X-Tina" Aguilera, I think it was perhaps a tad too early for a career highlights montage recapping all her previous looks from her video catalogue before she performed. Like, Madonna could do that. Janet could do that. Mariah could do that (although it wouldn't look that different). But with all of three albums to her name, I thought X-Tina might have been a little off her rocker...

- Speaking of rockers, how refreshing to see someone actually fucking sing - so thank you, Pink. You're very underrated.

- These fellows named the Jonas Brothers seem to be pretty big with the kids nowadays. They also wear promise rings - a concept that is fucking creepy. The premise of these rings is that kids are given these things by their parents when they're pre-teens, and it's supposed to represent a 'promise to themselves' (read: promise to their parents, Jesus and the Republican party) that they'll maintain their virginity, only to come off once a wedding ring goes on. It all sounds like glorious bullshit to me. After much prodding about this fact by host Russell Brand (his running gag of the evening... falling flat more often than not), linebacker Jordin Sparks - sporting arms boasting the circumference of red woods (THEMZ SOME FAT ARMS, DANG!!!) - decided to take a stand against this:

Yeah. Because if you don't wear a promise ring, you're a slut. That's all there is to it - no grey area whatsoever. Thank Christ Jordin Sparks had the courage to finally say it.

- Miley Cyrus' gets more annoying by the second. And savour these days, bitch - because you'll soon go the way of Ashlee Simpson, who might as well have won a contest in order to appear at the awards as far as the audience was concerned, judging by her cold reception (or, rather, non-reception). Seriously - even when Pete Wentz signed off saying "I'm Pete Wentz, that's my wife Ashlee, and that's my baby" he had to prod the audience for a fucking response. I don't know if you remember, but four years ago, Ashlee Simpson was the shit in terms of teen pop stardom. And she couldn't be more irrelevant now. The shelf-life of a teen pop queen is fleeting, is what I'm saying...

- Proving that 2008 truly is shaping up to be the year of the tranny, the Best New Artist category witnessed a shocking upset when German alt-rockers Tokio Hotel snagged the trophy over modern-day Punky Brewsterite Miley Cyrus, glorified jailbait Taylor Swift, virgin shotputter Jordin Sparks and kooky flavour of the moment Katy Perry. It's especially surprising given the fact that the award was voted on by the fans... and, y'know, Jordin Sparks is famous solely because people voted for her... hmmm... anyballs - GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO trannys!!!

So yeah. That was that.

Kinda sucked balls. But I'll totally watch it again next year.

Anyballs - I'm off.

Smell ya later,

--- Aj