Sex & The City: The Movie: The Blog

Well Wowzers McGee everybody!

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

Yay for what else? THIS!

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

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

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

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

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

10.) CLAIRE-ANNE

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

9.) Tie: JENNY BRIAR & HER SLUTTY TEEN FRIENDS/THE LOUD TRANNY WHORES OUTSIDE OF SAMANTHA'S WINDOW

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

8.) THIS CHICK

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

7.) ENID MEAD

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

6.) BUNNY MACDOUGALL

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

Palette Cleanser: THE TWO CANTALOPES THAT SAMANTHA HURLS AT THE SKANKS WHO CRASHED HER PARTY AFTER USING THEM AS PROPS TO EXEMPLIFY HOW RIDICULOUS THIER FAKE TITS ARE

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

5.) MAGDA

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

4.) BITSY VON MUFFLING

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

3.) COURTNEY MASTERSON & LILY MARTIN

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

2.) LEXI FEATHERSTONE

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

But

there

can

only

be

1.) SUSAN SHARON

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

Phew,

--- Aj

sick sick sick sick sick sick sick...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THEY ALL HAVE BACK PACKS!

--- Aj

Greetings! From the brink of death.

Ugh.

No, actually. Glorf.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crazy.

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

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

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

Do you remember that scene in "The First Wives Club" when they're escaping from the penthouse apartment via the window washing trolley and it gets jammed in front of a couple making love... and they recognize Goldie Hawn's character, "Elyse Elliott", and start yelling "Elyse! You look great!", to which she hears it, breaks face in the harrowing situation that the First Wives are in and enthusiastically says "THANK YOU!" and then the window washing tolley drops again and they're back in a life-threatening scenario?

TOTALLY WHAT I DID!!! It's like "tears, crying, fighting, tears, girl passing out, guys about to fist fight, me on phone with 911, me freaking out, girl about to vommit, girl crying, guys fighting, 'oh you're a comic, you're really funny', "THANK YOU!", girl crying, guys fighting, me yelling at operator"... Nuts.

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

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

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

Cough,

--- Aj

Haute Topics: Becky Johnson Edition

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

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

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

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

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

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

love,becky"

Awww. Love ya back, baby.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i'm sure you've seen this.

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

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

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

yours truly,

becky johnson"

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

Do I think this is real?

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

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

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

M'aaanyways...

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

"andrew,

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

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

regards,

b. johnson"*

Becks, it would be my pleasure.

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

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

Anyway - this was a very long blog.

--- Aj

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

D'afternoon to you cowboys & Indians...

Come with me for a brief trip through time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--- Aj

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

Happy September 11th!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'd urge you to vote HERE.

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

--- Aj

The Fat Lady Has Sung/Gimme LESS...

First off...

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

Second off...

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

Wowinabadway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Among them:

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

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

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

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

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

Ending well,

--- Aj