Friday Is A Day For Lovers.

D'afternoon to you and yours.

It's a lovely, drizzly afternoon here in the T Dot. Very London-esque, actually.

Sorry for not posting yesterday. Yestermorning, I shot my first (and in all likelihood, only) episode of Stars Gone Wild. It was pretty tough work and I was beyond exhausted. For realsies, I felt like I had just shot a season of Survivor or something...

SIDEBAR: My boss is currently having a meeting right behind me and the following quote just emerged from the conversation: "You're servicing me very well by being anal"... ... ... yes.

Anyballs... what's transpired since last we spoke? Hmmm... well, Ramiele was sent back her family sushi joint Wednesday night on Idol.

I've got to be honest... something terrifying's happening to me... I'm starting to become obsessed with Kristy Lee Cook. It happened last year with Haley Scarnato. And every previous season for the chick who, despite being the portrait of sucktastic, continues to slink along in the competition within an inch of her life... so yeah... I have that deal with...

Also to deal with - and I can't believe it took me all week to remember this - VOTING! For the Bitches YOU Loved and YOU Hated for the merry month of March!!!

First, a refresher course of the bitches I loved in March...


Propecia Watkins*: Domestic Abuse absolver/dawg walker
Danny Noriega: Almost-Idol/Fierce Tranny Mess
Silda Spitzer: Podium candy/Woman who took Tammy Wynette's hit song "Stand By Your Man" entirely too literally...
Carole Pope: Rough trader/Dykon to end all Dykons
Anita Page: Screen Legend/Hottest Nonagenarian Alive

Click HERE to vote for the Bitch YOU Loved In March who'll go on to join Carol Channing, Tina Fey and 9-as yet unnamed others to compete for Bitch Loved in 2008!

*Yeah... I don't actually know her name. So I gave her one that sounded ghetto and sassy. At first I wanted to use the name Sheniqua Tomkins... until it was brought to my attention that it's ACTUALLY someones name... specifically: 50 Cent's estranged wife. So I went with Propecia Watkins instead.

And a refresher course in the bitches I hated in March... and my oh my it's quite a batch this month...

Lauren Cleri: Aspiring Actress/Broke Slut
Lisa Rinna: Under-researched red carpet reporter/Anus face
Sally Kern: Oklahoma State Rep/Homosexual denier
Ashley Alexandra Dupre: Aspiring Singer/Debatably high-class whore
Russell Oliver: Amateur commercial superstar/Gold monger

Shoot. Looks like we might have a 5-way tie this month. Fuck. Go HERE to vote for the bitch YOU hated in March. The winner will go head to head to head with Tom Cruise, Chola CuchiMuncho and 9-as yet unnamed bitches for the Bitch Hated in 2008.

In other news:

Apparently Beyonce and Jigga-man are finally tying the knot today. From everyone here at my blog (so, me), we wish them the absolute best.

In other, other news:

A LITTLE OVER A WEEK AWAY!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Have a great weekend!

--- Aj

I Beg Your Parton...

See that? See how I did that?

So what the fuck is up?

I had a gruellingly long night last night doing stand up - first at Dawn 'n Deborah's startlingly early "Dragons of Comedy" then at Deb Pearce's room at Alibi... The majority of which was spent speaking about TV Shows that I'm currently watching.

Of note: Apparently, I only watch shows that have either "America" or "American" in the title, because that's all I cared to talk about... American Gladiators (specifically: HeLLga), America's Next Top Model, and of course, American Idol.

I didn't really have anything 'bits' about American Idol so much as I just basically asked people who their favourite was, and unless it was Carly or Jason Castro, called them a retard.

I ACTUALLY drew jeers when I badmouthed David Archuleta. People love that kid. When I exited, the particularly 'with it' sound dude at Alibi played me offstage to David Archuleta singing "The Long And Winding Road" from Beatles Week, Pt. 2. It was very clever. Anyballs...

Idol Last Night

General note: Dolly Parton is A.) Awesome, B.) Amazing and C.) Adorable.

Brooke White is so middling it makes my head spin. "Jolene" is one of the most awesome songs in the world. About a woman begging another [unfortunately named] woman not to steal her man "just because she can" - pretty melancholic fare. Brooke warbled her way through it grinning like an asshole then put on her infallible puppy-dog-eyes-act during the judges' critique. Someone recently called her the next Jewel. I'd argue she's more akin to Ashlee Simpson insofar as musicality and vocal dearth, but that's just me, I guess.

David Cook, who was apparently rushed to the hospital immediately following his performance suffering from a heart murmur or some shit that I couldn't care less about, did his first non-cover of a cover in weeks with "Little Sparrow". Meh. It's nothing that I found overly memorable. At least he's sticking to his niche, I'll give him that. On the flip side, he's sticking to his niche. Which I find completely boring. I'm sorry - I just don't read endurable charisma from him. I read 'perfectly serviceable performer' and 'dude who occupies this particular concept this particular season' from him, but I can't imagine he'd fare a fifth as well as a Carrie Underwood if he won...

What do the war in Iraq, Priscilla Presley's face and Ramiele Mulabuy all have in common? They're all hopelessly, hopelessly lost causes without a hope of improvement. There's nothing more painful on Idol than seeing someone who's actually getting worse. That's Ramiele, unfortunately. More unfortunately is that apparently she's got legions of fans who vote for her with maniacal conviction and has never - NOT A'ONCE - been in the bottom 3. So who the fuck knows what's what anymore...

Jason Castro. LOVED IT. He sang "Travellin' Thru" - the Oscar nom'd theme song from Oscar-nom'd she-male-fest, "Transamerica". I thought it was gorgeous, and not just because I think the same of Jason (even though I'll be first to admit that I wouldn't have the faintest clue as to what to do with them dreadlocks if they wuz flung all up in m'business... I digress). I thought he did a remarkable job and it was an incredibly honest and hopeful performance. Like, I really got that he understood the plight of the tranny that he was singin' about and communicated that beautifully in the minute and a half that he had.

Carly Smithson continued to work the shit out last night. The "Here You Come Again" that I know is a boppy, goofy, if-wistful song a-la BJ Thomas' "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" but Carly transformed it into a poignant ballad with quite the money note. I'm going to have to heartily agree with Simon however: whomever is styling her needs to be done away with. We get it. You have tats. That's part of who you are. That's wonderful. And I'm sure seemed like a good idea at the time (and by that I mean every second of all 72 accumulative hours that you sat in a chair and had your arm pierced with an inked needle). The problem is that you're a Celine-esque belter, and you should probably make a bit of an effort to correlate an image to that concept. Honestly, that IS what will hurt her in the long run if she doesn't make some changes. Other than that - fuckingawesome.

David Archuleta continues to give the people what he wants. Another thing he's giving? Melinda Doolittle a run for her money in "annoyingly excessive amount of modesty" department. How the fuck sick am I of seeing him get so flustered and overwhelmed whene'er he receives positive comments? Anyballs...

Kristy Lee Cook is, I imagine, still proud to be an American, where at least she knows she's free. She probably should have reminded people of that fact, because performing ultimate homeless-kid-viewing-the-glass-as-half-full anthem, "Coat of Many Colours", was so boring it wasn't even bad. And what the cock was up with her dress of many colours? It certainly was a dress of many colours... namely brown, tan, mud, fudge, taupe and any other lush fecal tone you could imagine because the whole thing was just one pig pile of poo. Poo!

Syesha might have delivered a perfectly bopho performance, if she was actually likable. Instead, it just came off as a very unambitious, familiar and arrogant choice. DO stop choosing Whitney. It's well established by this point that no one can do Whitney - present day-Whitney herself wouldn't stand a chance at doing Whitney. Instead of actually taking a risk, she does the most predictable thing in the world. If she winds up in the bottom 3 - which she probably will - it's her own damned fault.

Michael Johns closed, therefore he'll be here another week.

I suppose that's all I have to say about him. OH! And, nice cravat.

Going...

I'm going to call the bottom three being Kristy-Lee, Syesha and either Ramiele or Brooke. Not both. I think the historically proven "black vote" will hop on to Syesha and save her for another week, and if either Brooke or Ramiele's fans haven't been underwhelmed enough thus far to not vote for them, I can't see them letting up now. Sooo... Methinks Kristy-Lee just might finally bite the proverbial dust.

Weeeeee'llllll seeeee...

Oh, and... obligatory plug...

Yes.

--- Aj

April Fools Gold

Glah.

My boss is currently playing Bruce Hornsby and The Range. Don't know who they are? Go HERE. That's the song "The Way It Is". His/their 'hit'.

This effin' album seems to all sound like that. It's a lot of piano-driven adult contemporary garbage and it's driving me mad. I've got to be honest - I really don't find listening to Bruce Hornsby and The Range conducive to a productive work environment. Perhaps if I was drinking a Zima, or tackling a Rubix Cube or reading a Danielle Steele novel or something that someone would have been doing in 1986 when they were fucking popular!

Apparently my boss has seen him/them live. Who the fuck would not only buy a fucking ticket to see Bruce Hornsby and The Range live LET ALONE actually seek out knowledge that they're coming to a venue near you?! I JUST DON'T GET IT!

Wow.

That was a rather large portion of today's blog devoted to Bruce Hornsby and The Range. So much, that I'm actually going to tag it. So that when people google blogs or whatever it is y'do, and you put in "Bruce Hornsby and The Range", this will come up.

ENOUGH!

So it's the first day of April. Which makes it April Fools! Whenever I hear April Fools, the first image that springs to my mind is of a prudish secretary being given what she thinks is a tin of candies that is instead -SURPRISE!- a tin with a coiled-up snake that springs out. She shrieks, and her co-worker - likely some bachelor bon vivant with a fervor for life - shouts "April Fools!" and while flustered and startled at first, she eventually finds it humorous. She then goes home and masturbates all night until her pussy is beyond raw.

What am I even talking about? No no no... so none of that happened to me today. No tin full of snakes springing out of me. I thought about getting on the streetcar today without paying and saying "April Fools!" and then laughing patronizingly and sitting down, and when the streetcar driver was all "seriously though, pay", I'd be like "IT'S APRIL FOOLS ASSHOLE!" and kick him/her in the balls/ladyballs and make a dash for it. But then I'd be a fellon. And that's not so whimsical.

One thing I thought was an April Fool was this story I read about - and get a load of this - a fucking turtle in China that smokes half a pack a day of cigarettes.


Yes.

A Turtle.

In China.

That Smokes Cigarettes.

Half a pack a DAY.

That's more than I smoked at my heaviest.

And I'm a human.

Apparently this turtle picked up the filthy habit by sucking on the discarded butts that its owner through in the garden. Which begs the question - who lets their turtle roam free range in their fucking backyard? Chinese people, apparently. Wacky.

Then he noticed that whenever he lit up, the turtle would poke its head out and start flailing around in the tub. Then one day he put a cigarette in its mouth, lit it, and the motherfucker sucked it back in FOUR MINUTES.

Animal rights officials are hard-pressed. Although they can't intervene if the turtle smokes voluntarily, but they , and I quote: "want him to stop making it public.”

Holy fuck. Amazing.

In other news: DOLLY PARTON ON IDOL TONIGHT!!!

Here's the rumored song list and running order:

David Cook: "You Know I Love You"
Kristy Lee Cook: "Two Doors Down"
Michael Johns: "Islands in the Stream"
Carly Smithson: "Jolene"
David Archuleta: "Travelin Thru"
Ramiele Malubay: "9 to 5 "
Brooke White: "Coat of Many Colors"
Syesha Mercado: "Eagle When She Flies"
Jason Castro: "I Will Always Love You"

I wonder if David Cook was able to find some rare Panic At The Disco cover of a Dolly Parton song, because I don't know how the fuck else he'll do anything. Carly Smithson will continue to be my hero if she actually busts out "Jolene". I love that song. David Archuleta is singing the hot tranny anthem from "Transamerica" - Danny Noriega is shedding a tear. Ramiele is poised to actually perform a song that hasn't been done on Idol, which is miraculous. Jason Castro is poised to give me a devastatingly lengthy boner with "IWALY". Hmmm.

In other, other news:

TWO FUCKING WEEKS TODAY!!!

Isn't that fucking pretty? I can't stop looking at it.

Happy April Fools,

--- Aj

Bitches Loved, Bitches Hated

Monday Monday Monday...

Hi there. Welcome back. How was your weekend? Mine was... well... a weekend.

It was pretty uneventful, actually. Friday night I went out to celebrate the birthday of the one, the only Andrea Caswell (depicted below as lovable loser Kathy) ---


--- and I got uproariously drunk, for some reason. And then proceeded to stay up until close to 6 AM doing absolutely nothing. Do you ever find yourself up in the wee hours of the morning asking yourself "what the fuck am I doing right now?! Where the fuck did the past four hours go and what occupied them?! I know something did... but can't, for the life of me, pinpoint what that is"... yeah... it was like that...

So I just stayed in most of Saturday being the sizzlingliest hot tranny mess that I could be.

Saturday night saw us 'try something new'. Read: go to a gay bar that's not Buddies. So we ventured to the first time to a joint called El Convento Rico. Apparently it started out as this renowned safe-haven for Latin members of the gay community, and boasts quite an arsenal of Latin drag queens, many of whom have autographed portraits hanging on the wall a-la Sardi's.

We arrived at around 12:30 in the midst of something... I gathered it was a drag show, but couldn't really see anything until we found a suitable point of view... once we found one, I saw what could have been either a particularly ornately attired woman or a typical tranny lip-syncing along to the Spanglish version of Kat Deluna's "Whine Up".

Intermittently, zaftig party girls who were part of a bridal shower would come up and drop it like it was hot, regardless of whether it was hot or not.

Okay, this seems like a drag show. Huzzah's all around.

Then, once that particular drag queen was done, some sprightly Gino dude came up, danced around and lip-synced to Ricky Martin's "Maria". Ummm... okay... so this isn't so much a drag show as much as it is a good old-fashioned AIR BAND CONTEST... hmmm...

Anyway - it was like waltzing into another mothafuckin' world, let me tell ya. One I have little desire to revisit...

In other news that's entirely questionable as to whether or not you'll care about:

Ask anyone who knows me to describe my behavior in general on a Sunday, and they'll say "feline". In that all that I ever do on Sundays is eat and sleep - I truly am the picture of languid.

It's also the only day of the week that I'll watch whatever the fuck is on TV... like whatever the fuck is on TV... like the other week, I actually watched Heartbreakers starring Susan "Sigourney" Weaver and Jennifer Loathe Hewitt... yeah... I really fucking watch anything...

Last Sunday happened to mark what would have been the 100th birthday of screen Goddess Joan Crawford.

Joan Crawford, of course, is Old Hollywood royalty. Having appeared in more than 400 films (or whatever), she started out as a good-old-fashioned hoofer in the chorus line under her birth name, Lucille LeSeur.

Some years later, she was hired as a contract player at MGM Studios, playing bit parts in the silent films of the era. When the talkies arrived - AND BOY, DID THEY EVER! - MGM honcho Louis B. Mayer insisted that she change her name, as he felt LeSeur sounded too much like Sewer. A contest was held to find a new name for the starlet - which kind of seems weird, huh? Like, she was already sort-of established... it'd be like Dreamworks currently having a contest to rename Amy Adams or something... - and the first choice was "Joan Arden". To the chagrin of everyone in the world with the exception of plump Canadian chanteuse Jann Arden, that name was already taken at the time. So plan B was taken instead: Joan Crawford.

I've always kind of been obsessed with Joan Crawford. I remember it randomly started in second year University... I just love the bitches' face more than I can possibly say.

I collected all these pictures of her online and actually had one on my desktop, insisting that she looked like me - a fact that, with the right photoshopped makeup applied, is still stunningly true.

Anyway - imagine my delight when flipping channels discovered that Turner Classic Movie Channel was airing a special entitled "Joan Crawford: The Ultimate Movie Star", which, to my greater delight, is all on the y'tube:

It links to the other 10 parts and it's all just entirely fascinating. It features interviews with countless co-stars, former directors, former paramours, biographers and most notably, her adopted daughter Christina whom she put through years of abuse that were documented in a memoir-turned-film, "Mommie Dearest".

Anyballs...

BITCH I LOVED THIS WEEK

ANITA PAGE

Who: I know it would have been the sort of obvious choice for me to put Joan Crawford, but she's just so far above being ranked by the lowly likes of the blogosphere, that I refuse! Anita Page, if you watched that clip, is that cranky old broad dressed to the nines who recalls working with Crawford on several pictures. Further research discloses that she's one of the last (I think, of three) stars who worked in silent films still alive and even more ass-rockingly of note is that she's the ONLY PERSON STILL ALIVE who was at the first Academy Awards.
Why I Loved Her: Anita Page doesn't fuck around. She's older than water but that's not gonna stop her from putting on her Sunday best and talkin' shit about people she's outlived. LOVE IT.

BITCH I HATED THIS WEEK

RUSSELL OLIVER

Who: Self-proclaimed "Cash Man", anyone in the Toronto area can tell you that this man rules the airwaves as far as local advertising time goes. He runs Oliver Jewellery, a shop that purportedly buys used jewellery for big bucks. Apparently - that's bullshit. He offers meagre amounts and then tells people to get out of his face. His amateur-ish commercials run round the clock and make absolutely no sense.
Why I Hated Him: He's basically Scrooge McDuck in human form and just so ridiculous he makes me want to vomit. I mainly hate him because that Euro-dance video he made with backup dancers get stuck in my head quite often, though.

Bah...

I've gotta split...

But before I do...

Let the aggressive inundation begin...

YAY!!!

In just over two weeks!!! This one is going to be GOOD.

Until tomorrow,

--- Aj

That [severely belated] America's Next Top Model Doppelgangers Blog!

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyy muggles...

Sorry for the absence yesterday. Batshit insanity in the busy-ness department.

First off - thanks so much for everyone who mentioned that the incomparable Sarah Silverman also has a smouldering penchant for BabyBel cheese, one that she spoke about in this clip from when she hosted the Independent Spirit awards...

I totally saw that ages ago. There's very little out there that Miss Silverman has done that I haven't seen multiple times and studied...

Second off - CHIKEZIE'S GONE. Ha. Just like I'd predicted. I know I didn't actually call anything beyond him being in the bottom 3 per se, but that's what I actually predicted - I thought I'd put a hex on the whole thing if I actually committed it to writing. So my plan worked perfectly... muahaha...

Someone else who's plan worked perfectly was Kristy Lee motherfucking Cook. That patriot porn she served up did the trick. It's also cursed me with having Lee Greenwood's "God Bless The USA" in my head somethin' fierce. My bosses were like "why the fuck are you singing Lee Greenwood's 'God Bless The USA', asshole?" and I was all "BECAUSE I'M ILL!"... It's fucked up...

Thirdly - Some of you have been downright mystified about why I have remained so mum about commenting on this current season of America's Next Top Model. And to you I say - m'I dunno. I guess it's just not the hot button thing that it used to be, in my eyes. I still enjoy it immensely - don't get it twisted, to quote Cycle 5's downright fugly chick with a winning personality, Ebony.

So, to those of you needing to be thrown an ANTM bone, here's sumpthin' for ya...

A few seasons ago I noticed that an exorbitant amount of the girls in said season were downright doppelgangers of celebrities of the then-moment. This season, I'm noticing it as well.

So, here's my assessment of the current crop of America's Next Top Model hopefuls and their celebrity doppelgangers...

Newly-minted bitch Claire and Ashley Judd...



Prodigious punk-rock misfit Lauren and Canadian treasure Sarah Polley...

Recently-ousted mega-bitch who used to be A.) anorexic and B.) allegedly big in Japan Allison and Alyssa "Samantha Micelli" Milano...

Even more recently-ousted girl next door Prudence McPrude Aimee and tweenage It-girl Miley Cyrus...

Plus-sized stunner Whitney and recovering-alcoholic Queen of Country Music, Wynonna...

Ghostly, weird accent-bearing Anya and Tilda Swinton as the Witch in The Chronicles of Narnia...

Mail-order bride-chic Katarzcyna and pouty weirdo Jonathan Rhys Meyers...

A two-parter:

Vaginally circumsized Somalian beauty Fatima as A.) Iman, obviously...

and B.) He-man ubervillain, Skeletor...

Squeaky-voiced oddball Stacy-Ann and mischievous cartoon fowl, Tweety Bird...

Lonesome ghetto-rat Marvita and Disney's premiere barnyard ingenue, Clarabelle Cow...

Batshit-nuts Amis and flamboyant funnyman, Jim J. Bullock...

And, another toss-up...

Haggard super-bitch Dominique and A.) Wilson Jermaine Heredia as Angel in Rent...

and B.) a catcher's mit...

That's all.

Have a blessid weekend.

See you soon...

... WITH BIG NEWS!

--- Aj

Big Whoop! Who Gives A Bibble? Gabba Gabba Hey

Ha.

Okay...

Yesterday, I finally had BabyBel cheese for the first time.

I was a little reluctant to at first. After all, they're miniature wheels of cheese encased in their own individual shells of wax - AND WHO THE FUCK HAS THE TIME FOR THAT? Moreover, those commercials depicting someone jumping out of a plane in pursuit of one freak me out... a cheese? That someone would go kamazae over? UNLIKELY!

But yesterday I bought some on sale and HO - LY - FUCK. NUTS. So delicious.

Moving On:

Idol Wrapup...

Ramiele put me to sleep. Well no, she didn't. I was already asleep. Fucking Jeopardy put me to sleep before Idol, but Ramiele - who kicked things off last night - didn't wake me up. Can you believe that? And singing Heart's "Alone"... of course she did... bah... it sucked. So did she. Well, if anything will land her in the bottom 3 at long last, this'll be it. If not - may God help us all. Her constituency (read: Asian-Americans) is stronger and more vigorous than we can possibly imagine.

Jason Castro continues to be adorable if a little underwhelming. What was up with the foreign language portion yet again? Are you trying to suggest that your debut album would be one of world music? Whatevs... he's getting a little "more of the same" but his sincerity saves him. If there's a disco week, he is fucked up to his brain, though...

Syesha worked it out, as she's been prone to doing of late. If only she wasn't so God-damned unlikable. And bitch - PLEASE stop crying like a baby. It's really not the neat, signature party trick you think it is. Nor is your voice as earth shatteringly divatastic as you think it is. Hmmm.

If Chekezie was an hour glass, methinks there is a tablespoon of sand left in the top chamber... tick tock tick tock... shoot... mayyyyybe Chekezie could have been pseudo-famous back in the all black dude vocal ensemble wave of the mid 90's a-la Boyz II Men, All 4 One, Colour Me Badd, Bel Biv Devoe, Dru Hill... the list goes on endlessly... but now, he's just moot. MOOT!

If I was taking Brooke White's performance seriously, I'd say that it's reasonably commendable that she was able to shake off her complete fuck-up at the beginning of her performance of "Every Breath You Take" and it was completely unecessary for the band to join her like they did. But I wouldn't be taking Brooke seriously because I can't standz da bitch no way. Gah... she'll be safe again.

Michael Johns cemented my belief that he would be make a dynamite replacement for Yvan Pedenault in the Mirvish production of "We Will Rock You" if it wasn't closing May 19th - GET YOUR TICKETS NOW BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE! (Can you tell I work for Mirvish?) Anyway... m'afraid that's about the most he could amount to... seriously - does anyone get anything authentic off of him? He's like a better-looking, slightly catatonic, Australian version of Constantine Maroulis. Blech.

Carly Smithson still holds the key to my heart, despite her incredibly nervous rendition of "Total Eclipse of the Heart"... I think she needs to take things a little less seriously, but I still love her. She best not be in the Bottom 3 tonight, y'all...

David Archuleta is a Disney character and that's all there is to it. He might as well have been joined on stage by the Famous People Players* bouncing around of mothafuckin' pogo sticks and giving eachother butterfly kisses, his performance of "You're The Voice" was so stomach churningly wretched... Not. My. Thing.

Kristy Lee Cook's performance of "God Bless The USA" might as well capped itself off by her felating a George Washington look alike and taking in the ass by a giant Bald Eagle - I think that's the only possible way it could have pandered to her constituency more. Holy fuck. I was like "Oh fucking no she isn't". I hereby solemnly swear that the next time I mount a stage in a karaoke context, I WILL be singing "God Bless The USA".

David Cook isn't exactly blowing my mind. PEOPLE - he was doing a cover of Chris Cornell's reversioning of "Billie Jean". He did NOT rework that himself. He was covering someone else's originality - don't get so excited. The fact that he has an extensive mental library of reworkings, reversionings and covers does not an Idol make.

Anyballs...

Bottom 3: Presuming that Carly's premature appearance in last week's Bottom 3 will rally her fanbase this week and Shitsy Lee Cock's patriotism sufficiently rallied the 36% of American's that approve of Bush, I'm going to call out Chikezie, Ramiele and in a surprise visit to the B3, Jason Castro... I might be so inclined to predict that it's the end for Ramiele...

That's it...

Super fun post coming tomorrow!!!

--- Aj

*I don't know if you went to that website, but you'll note that the catchphrase that the FPP use is "See You In The Dark". Clever, huh? Also totally stolen. That phrase was created by none other than my dear gal pal Larissa B. Laycock in our fucking commercial class when we were at *barf* Humber in our TV Writing Post-grad course and ripped off by our teacher then and there. And they're STILL fucking using it... wow... anyballs...

Carole Pope-smear

Muggles and non-muggles alike...

How art thou?

Sorry for not posting since Thursday. Sorrier still that the fucking photoshopping I did portraying Estelle Getty on the cover of a "mature" watersports video was taken down - I COVERED UP HER NASTY ELDERLY TETTAS AND BEAV! What more do you want, Photobucket?! So fuck it... here it is again...


Yes. Again, I'm terribly sorry for her family. But I'm allowed to my artistic expression. And if that artistic expression involves putting the face of your matriarch on an old broad takin' a leak, SO. BE. IT.

Anyballs...

This past weekend was somethin' else buster.

Friday night saw us venture out to Circa. I believe there's some unnecessary capitalization in there... like CirCa or something... meh... it's not worth it. It's this five-tiered fortress of a club that's impossible to navigate. I have to imagine some horrendous cyborg king sits at the top of it, ruling over everything.

It was SUCH a hassle to get in. Thank God we were joined this evening by the lovely and talented Miss Nicole Arbour, who, wielded her awesome men's magazine appeal to get us into the VIP. Yep. We rocked the VIP. It was definitely a low point of my life.

There are some phrases that I just feel that, if I don't get to utter them but once in my life, well, my life will be incomplete. I remember for the longest time, it was "Physician Heal Thyself!" and I finally got to drag that out two years ago when I worked at this physiotherapy-esque joint.

Well Friday got to see me FINALLY bust out, "I don't like like the vibe in the VIP". YES! My life is that much richer...

Anyballs - Circa was nothing to shout about. Very pricey and very crowded. The music was atrocious. I vamoosed out of there tidily before 1.

Saaaaturday saw me trek to - where else - Buddies... BUT for good reason. To catch a two-night-only, intimate performance by the legendary Carole Pope.

Refresher course on Carole Pope...

Or, rather for many of you, introductory course on Carole Pope...

Carole Pope is the front woman and one half of the creative force behind a legendary Canadian punk/new-wave outfit called Rough Trade whose heyday would have been the mid-70's to the mid-80's when they broke up.

Their renown came from their innovative, aggressively sexual songs like "All Touch", "Crimes of Passion" and their biggest hit, "High School Confidential" (as performed below) all marked by Pope's signature androgynous swagger and BDSM-inspired look...

Anyway. She fucking rocks. She first came to light for me back in '03 or '02 or some year that she was playing pride here. I remember groaning about how no one of any sort of relevance came to play pride and my uncle said that this year's entertainment was Carole Pope. I, of course, said "who?" and my mother - who was also present at the time - said "oh I love Carole Pope". I had absolutely no idea who the balls she was, so my uncle went about schooling me in the rich history of Rough Trade and also that "High School Confidential" was the song that Justin strips to in that episode of "Queer As Folk" when he won the stripping competition, so that brought it home.

Some time after that, I was milling about in a Chapters for some ungodly reason and came across her autobiography, "Anti-Diva". In it, she gives a no holds barred account of her many, many, MANY lesbian love affairs - each one more torrid than the last - and a vivid account of her years spent on the front lines of the punk, disco and new-wave music scene. It was a very fetching read - particularly what she has to say about her affair with Dusty Springfield, whom I fucking love.

Anyballs - she was fantastic. Just transfixing. I didn't know any of the music - because yeah, no, she totally didn't do "High School Confidential"... and I know! That's like Laura Branigan (God rest her soul) not doing "Gloria" - but it was cool. She was just a joy to watch.

Annnnnd that'll be the extent that I see any sort of live music for the rest of the year. An evening well spent.

In other news:

BITCH I LOVED THIS WEEK

CAROLE POPE

Who: [See above].
Why I Loved Her: Because she's a fierce tranny mess, is why. A consummate pro, magical to watch, still full of a boisterous, aggressive vocal style and watermelon-sized bronzed balls. She's quite a broad. AND - THIS IS SOME HOT TRIVIA - her sister is Elaine Pope. Who's Elaine Pope, you ask? A standup comic and writer and former flame of Jerry Seinfeld's... who directly served as the inspiration for Elaine Benes, is who... so, she's got that going for her too.

BITCH I HATED THIS WEEK

ASHLEY ALEXANDRA DUPRE

Who: Aspiring musician/Former Governor Eliot Spitzer's pick of the Emperor's Club VIP litter for right hand whore. Or, pardon me, escort. Recently set to see her premium soar and enjoy a cushy 15 minutes of fame when she was presented with a 1 million dollar offer to work with Joe Francis' "Girls Gone Wild" empire... that is until they found that years ago, pre-Emperor's Club, bitch had one too many Bacardi Breezers, lost her halter top and unknowingly gave away her milk for free.
Why I Hated Her: Oh Ashley Alexandra Ashley Alexandra Ashley Alexandra... my my my... talk about that old fable, "The Fox & The Crow". Jesus. This is sort of an updated version. Sort of. This bitch spends years uppin' the value of her bidness only to have it dashed by some youthful indiscretions. I guess I kinda feel bad for her. Ah well. My love for kicking people when they're down far outweighs that guilt. Anyway... moral of the story kids - DON'T BE A HO.

That's it? Really? Really?

Meh... I promise pithier fare later this week...

Love & Light,

--- Aj