THIS is why I don't tan/Pasty Pride

A jubilant Monday to you and yours,

More on that title in a second...

But firrrrst...

A question: when was the last time you came incredibly close to actually punching someone in the back of the head? Like, ACTUALLY. Like you could feel your fist clenching and teeth gritting together in preparation of a deadly blow? I came within inches of punching someone in the back of the head today, a mere two hours ago. The scene: Approximately 1:30, Post-Meridian. The PharmaPlus in the Metro Concourse, located approximately beneath Roy Thompson hall at streets King & University.

This particular PharmaPlus transforms into a hub for professional, office-type gals betwixt the hours of 12 and 2 PM - lunch hour for many. Lines as far as the eye can see of these gals buying concealer, tampons, hand sanitizer, manufactured Hostess confectioneries, personal lubricant, y'know - that racket. It takes fucking FOREVER to get the cash register as a result. It's just bitch in Reitman's-purchased tasteful-yet-modern sweater set after bitch in Reitman's-purchased tasteful-yet-modern sweater set buying one item at a time and putting it on their credit card.

Today - after getting my boss and I's lunch - I headed over there to get some Diet Coke and some SPF-packed moisturizer (you'll know why in a scant few seconds... trust me) and took my place in line. Today, I was situated behind the most searing assache I've ever come into contact with - it was a bitch who was RETURNING A TOOTHBRUSH OVER CREDIT CARD. Do you KNOW how long this transaction took?!?! AND, the motherfucking toothbrush cost $1.27. ONE DOLLAR AND TWENTY-SEVEN CENTS. And she NEEDED to return it. On credit card. Which she needed to sign for, the fucking cashier needed to sign for, the fucking manager needed to sign for - I'm surprised I didn't need to sign for it. It was EXTRAORDINARY bullshit. She then proceeded to haggle over some Polysporin which she claimed was 20% off in her current coupon flyer - and the cashier was like "yeah... it's 20 off. It says so right there". But this bitch was insistent that it was 20% off ON TOP of that 20% because, y'know, that makes all the sense in the world. CUT TO 5 MINUTES LATER - I'm swearing under my breath and just looking at her murderously. She seems unfazed. Finally, the manager convinces her that the discount has been given, and this bitch waddles away narrowly escaping me actually punching her in the head.

My God I hate these people. Like, I get it - you're desperate for human interaction and the only way you can claim some sort of importance is by needlessly robbing people of minutes from their day. But all I ask is that next time you please go and take this out on a homeless person or something... they'll gladly assume a captive audience with you for a lot less money than it costs to return a toothbrush. AN ASSFUCKING TOOTHBRUSH!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?!?!

Gah - sorry. It just confounds me...

Another thing that confounds me...

Do y'all remember Baywatch? How could you forget. Do y'all remember Jeremy Jackson? He played Hasselhoff's character's son - here he is during his stint on Baywatch, looking his age...

Yeah. We all spanked to that at one time or another... ladies, am I right?

Well, here he is PRESENT DAY-

I asked my boss to guess how old he is/was. And my boss (not knowing who he is/was) guessed, without remote hesitation, "early 40's".

Then I gleefully revealed to him that the fellow pictured and myself are the same age. Yeah. JerJack and I are the exact same age (well... not really... he's actually a year older than I am, but at present we're both the big two seven.)

Upon laying eyes on Mr. Jackson, I can honestly say I cherish my vampire-esque aversion to sunlight more than every. HOLY. BALLS. That is Busted with a capital 'Usted. He looks like the lead singer of Warrant/Quiet Riot/Whitesnake/The Scorpions/some hair metal band of yesteryear...

So, to all of you in your mid-late 20's still soakin' up the rays like it's good for what ails ya - it's not. 20-something wrinkles ain't pimples, darlings - they're not going to clear up. They're there forever. Add to that the occasional gray pube, and you might as well go cash in on the 20% discount on Thursdays at Denny's (that's the seniors discount day... I know this because as a kid, I couldn't wait until I turned 55 and older so I could get it... now I feel decidedly different).

Anyballs... that's all the wisdom I have to impart today...

Slather on the sunscreen,

--- Aj

Big Whoop! Who Gives A Bibble! Gabba Gabba Hey

Um... yes...

Haven't done one of these in a while.

The title, of course, pertains to Marge Simpson's catchphrase dismissing trivial inconveniences a-la "Ah well, what are ya gonna do?"... and I use it to sort of title a post that deals with random minutia that doesn't really matter. But before that...

How are you today? I'm splendidly, thanks for asking. It's a super nice day weather-wise here in Toronto, the CEO of my company - David Mirvish - finally got my name right, and I just got a brand spanking new pair of shoes on my extraordinarily prolonged lunch break. Loveliness all around. And tonight I'm joining a group of chums down at the harbour front to take in the sights, sounds and smells of Ladytron to celebrate the birthday of Matt Thomas - the editor-in-chief of Fab Magazine.

Speaking of Fab magazine, make sure you pick up the latest issue, as there's a roundup of pics that were snapped over Pride weekend with hilarious captions provided by myself, comedians Richard Ryder and Dawn Whitwell, and drag divas Donnarama and Daytona Beach. There were like 30+ photos that we needed to caption in a turnaround period of like 8 hours from the time we got them to the magazine going to print... it was insanity... I hammered them out in like 3 hours (that's what she said)... my creative juices had all but evaporated by the end of it... I actually think there's this one picture of a bunch of naked guys getting ready to strike at each other on a wrestling mat that I captioned "Don't Cha Hate Mondays?"... and it has nothing, if very little, to do with Garfield. Ohhhhh brother.

Anyballs... here's some randomness...

1.) ANNA WINTOUR CELEBRATES 20th ANNIVERSARY AS EDITRIX-IN-CHEIFETTE OF VOGUE MAGAZINE

Yeppy.

Nigh on 20 years ago - June 28, 1987 as a matter of fact - one Anna Wintour began her reign of terror/fabulousness over the fashion industry when she stepped into top position at the world's leading fashion rag.

Pictured, is Anna giving a hearty 'thumbs up' celebrating the occasion (not really). I can't imagine cake was served to commemorate the occasion... maybe ice cubes on Popsicle sticks, but definitely no sort of customary celebratory confectionery (all of those words started with a 'c' and ended with a 'ry'... see that?)

Anyway - it's really not worth mentioning for any other reason that me wanting to bring up how fucking obsessed I still am with Anna Wintour - an obsession that I dealt with in great detail in this post. Anyballs... if you read it, you'll remember one little reported habit of hers that struck me as very funny - that she stands in her office, frustratedly throwing pennies from her purse into the garbage as if to say "I simply do not have time for all these 1 cent pieces!!! *Angry shriek*"... well I was speaking about this over the weekend, and as it turns out, a lot of people do this. The more I continue to bring it up, the more people come out as being a penny trasher - I HAD NO IDEA. I think I'll make my first foray into investigative journalism on the topic of Penny Trashers... so, if you're a penny trasher who really wants your story told, please e-mail me at femaledogsalad@gmail.com - I smell a Pulitzer.

2.) MONKIDS ARE MAKING A COMEBACK!!!

Oh shit. This is terrifying.

I don't care how desperate you are for companionship - YOU CANNOT GET A MONKEY AND TREAT IT LIKE A CHILD!!! IT'S UNSPEAKABLY BIZARRE!!! THERE SHOULD BE LAWS AGAINST THIS!!!

The leading culprits in this unholy trend? Empty Nesters (not Richard Mulligan, or Kristy McNichol, or Park Overall or any other cast members from the hit sitcom Empty Nest, but rather sexagenarians who's children have flown the coop). The logic behind this? They want a child again, but they don't want to have to deal with the teenage years again. Sound incredibly wholesome to me. And by that I mean, IT REALLY, REALLY DOESN'T.

All of this makes me feel incredibly at ease about my mom talking to our cat as a result. Because she totally does. She'll totally be in the kitchen, and our cat - Simba - will prance over the cupboard where the wet cat food is and meow, and my mother will repeatedly say "No! No! You just had some! Well what am I supposed to do? Later! No! No!" and really, this thing has just meowed like 5 times but by the 5th time, my mom has lost the argument. Like it actually was an argument - like Simba actually provided points and counterpoints as to why he should have the wet cat food right now and my mother had no other alternative but to crack open the Fancy Feast because Simba's case was so air-tight. It's actually insane.

BUT NOT AS INSANE AS PEOPLE WHO HAVE MONKIDS!!!! So kudos, mom.

3.) SOME VINTAGE - AND I MEAN VINTAGE - CELINE DION

Incognito.

I thought I'd leave you with that.

Have a great weekend,

--- Aj

Pride Diary

Hey stranger,

I know, I know. It's been OVER a week. I mean, c'mon, what is this, late 2006? (I say that, because in late 2006, my blogging frequency was spotty at best. AT BEST.)

Well if ever an excuse was appropriate, t'would have been the fact that this past week was Pride.

T'kicked off Tuesday with the Pride Edition of Bitch Salad, which went famously, thanks for asking. Slight snaffoo: we had to compete with something in the next room at Buddies, entitled Pride Prom. "A costumed prom for gay/lesbian/bisexual/transgendered/whatever youth who all probably give terrible blow jobs, as has been my experience with high school kids", as I put it. They was loud and all ova' the place. But whatever, o bla di, o bla da, sha-la-la-la "Life Goes On" is what I always say. Particularly because no one remembers the short-lived ABC dramedy "Life Goes On" starring a young, pre-Gypsy but post-Evita Patti LuPone.

Following that, a gaggle/whack of us headed to Crews for some much needed karaoke - I, personally, had set my sights squarely on Glenn Medeiros' "Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You" - ONLY TO FIND THAT, *GASP*: Crews was closed. Due to some sort of liquor violation. Can anyone say catastrophe? Probably not if you're dislexic, but that problem is a horse of entirely different colour. Anyballs - yeah. Can you imagine? Crews - Toronto's premiere cover-free, gay-&-lesbian-mixed hotspot which boasts an exceptionally rude and belligerent bar staff - closed?! FOR PRIDE?! Wow.

Anyballs, Wednesday night I took part in a seemingly never-ending Pride edition of Spirits Open Mic, hosted by the incomparable Jo-Anna Downey - WHO, by the by, was on the Pride Edition of Bitch Salad the night previous, and, by the by, received what I might consider my best introduction yet: "What do our first guest of the evening and Maple Leaf Gardens, Sam The Record Man and the GM Plant in Oshawa all have in common? They're all venerable, life-giving landmarks of the Greater Toronto Area. However, what do those things NOT have in common with our first guest of the evening: she's still open and serving the public". Eat your fucking heart out, Bruce Vilanch.

B'anyway - besides being a very late night, fun times continued to ensue there. Thursday I forced myself to have a very low-key day, despite the fact that I had the photo shoot for the next Bitch Salad... expect to have details about that crammed in your face very shortly. After that ended at like, 7:45, I decided to treat myself to a cab home. It was frivolous, but y'know when sometimes, you're just so fucking tired that you'd rather make love to a cactus froggystyle than take the TTC? Well, that's how I felt.

Friday was supposed to be a day off for me, but I had to come into work for a half-day. Boo. This was particularly 'boo' as a gaggle of my friends were heading to Canada's motherfucking Wonderland including, but not limited to Heidi, Yerxa and Bort (YES! BORT. I MISSED A DAY AT WONDERLAND WITH BORT). I haven't been to Wonderland since I was like 11. I miss it. Especially Smurfland. I seem to recall somebody telling me that Smurfland closed. Or maybe it was a nightmare I had - a terrible, terrible nightmare that can't be true - because Smurfland was the shit. Anyballs...

I spent the afternoon doing some last minute Pride weekend shopping. I was super dead-set on buying shoes, but was wearing flip-flops, and didn't want any of that fucking 'you have to put on the store sock' action, so that's still on m'to-do list. Following a perfunctory nap, I headed over to an already-swinging pre party after which we were apparently to 'head to Church, and see what happens'. Church St. was pandemonium. PANDEMONIUM. Holy balls. Do you know the only place we could get into? This random Vietnamese restaurant that no one ever knew existed and even this place was PACKED. We all did shots of tequila, drunkenly heckled the Vietnamese waitress like we were the most entertaining beings on the face of the planet (which, no doubt, we were), and played a game that reared its head three more times this very weekend... 'go around the table and name 80's sitcoms'. Here's how this game breaks down every time:

Someone: Full House!
Someone: Family Matters!
Someone: 227!
Someone: Mr. Belvedere!
Someone: Silver Spoons!
Someone: Alf!
Someone: Facts a'Life!
Someone: Mr. Belvedere!
Someone: 8 Is Enough!
Someone: Webster!
Someone: Roseanne!
Someone: Mr. Belvedere!
Someone: Perfect Strangers!

And so on and so forth... then...

[sometime later]

Someone: ... ... ... Did anyone say Mr. Belvedere?

For real. Happens every time. For some reason "Mr. Belvedere" is that thing that everyone says, but no one remembers anyone saying, but then springs to someone's mind waaaay after the fact. Anyballs - as per expected, I got waaay more hammered than I resolved to (or rather resolved not to), and ambled myself home.

Cut to: Saturday morning. Yikes. Hungover. I blame the Vietnamese. Somehow I got myself functioning and watched the previous days' installment of "The View" - the ladies were live from Vegas all week - with guest Bette Midler, who's currently on stage at Caeser's palace taking over the gig once famously held by Celine Dion (I'm sure Bette's great and all, but I doubt bitch can conduct lightning from her hands a-la Celine...) - Anyballs, apparently excerpts from Better Midler's "The Showgirl Must Go On" did the trick because I was off and running in no time... after some obligatory cardio, booze shopping and a crazily painful Nair mishap, all of a sudden it was time to go.

The scene: Buddies for the annual Homo Night In Canada, which, after what I interpreted to be a disastrous appearance at last year, I was invited back to again this year. So hooray for that. I was on last, so I was completely hammered by the time it was time to go on. I don't remember it going badly, though. So there's that. Anyway - fun fun fun fun fun FUN fun afterwards. Basically everyone I know in the world was there, basically. It was like a high-school dance, only with tranny's taking the place that inappropriately dressed 14-year-old skanks once occupied. Then, for one reason or another, at around quarter to 1, I vamoosed. Yep. For no reason at all. Certainly not [necessarily] because I met someone, and, even if I did - which I absolutely did not (necessarily) - I certainly wouldn't discuss it here as I'm famously guarded about discussing my a.) religion, b.) finances and c.) boy-beav. Not that there's anything to discuss, of course. [Necessarily].

B'aaaanyways, after a surprisingly active evening for going home early and [not necessarily] alone, I was plumb-wiped out Sunday morning. Best efforts were made, but despite them, I missed the parade for the first time in like 6 years or some shit... I know, I know, I know... but from what I heard - it was more of the same. Elderly junk on full frontal display, Beefy be-speedo'd dudes dancing on ridiculous corporate floats and more trannys than you conceivably shake a stick at. But, for old times sake (I used to blog a roundup of pictures I'd taken during pride and caption them humorously... now, because I'm clearly moving up in the world, I'm doing that for Fab magazine...) I'll include a photo that jumped out of me - of a chola tranny, bits un-gloriously exposed to the world, who spun down the street in a gigantic hamster wheel. It's really somethin' to see.

I've gotta tell ya, though - skipping the parade was perhaps the best idea I had... I'm usually so effin' tired because of waking up earlier than I humanly would after the night I usually have before it, then going to it, getting sun, then going home, napping, then being totally lethargic for the night - but no... languidly lounging around luxuriously all afternoon was exactly what the doctor ordered, let me tell ya... I then took in the first 10 minutes of a show that I'm presently obsessed with - "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?" - and met people for drinks on the only patio that we could possibly get seated at, the Micky Finns at Church & Carlton a-k-a Hooker Central. After casually swigging back some cocktails (that's what she said), we strolled our way up Church St. It's at this point that I'm reminded how very much I hate crowds. Sheesh. Then we settled at the Artful Dodger where I didn't [necessarily] meet up with someone I didn't [necessarily] meet the night before and have some more drinks.

Why Heidi Brander is the most amazingly entertaining human being in the world, Reason # 1,229,836: After menus were distributed, she ran across the street to a Rabba, bought a $7 jar of Cheese Whiz, ran back, took her seat, and asked if she could "have an order of steamed broccoli... but, could [she] add her own personality to it?" and whipped out the Cheese Whiz accordingly. The waitresses reply: "Well, sure. But we don't have steamed broccoli." So she ordered toast points instead and added her own personality to them.

After a while, we all parted ways. I heard Heidi and Bort went and sang SingStar karaoke at someone's house. Anth had to work in the morning. Yerxa had been passed out for hours after spending all afternoon line dancing in a beer garden. And once again, I [didn't necessarily] go home alone and [didn't necessarily] do nothing. And that was that with that.

That was pretty much it. I took Monday off and it was the second best decision of my life. Last night was pretty low key as well - just some convergence on a back porch in the west end, thinking we could see the fireworks, which we totally couldn't, but oh well. Luckily the night was spiced up by A.) Bort telling us a story from her childhood - or, rather Borthood - about making her severely hungover grandmother barf by farting in the car and B.) The fact that one Dean McArthur can only communicate via showing people youtube clips recently... anyway... he showed us this - an apparently not-retarded contestant on the latest British version of Big Brother -

Just might be the most uproarious thing I've seen in some time. Certainly since the wheeling chola tranny with mangled business above.

So yeah. That's about it. Not the kind of stuff that makes up for an over-week-long absence, but still. It's at least an alibi.

--- Aj

EXCLUSIVE: Papparazzo'd Nude Shots of Orlando Bloom!!!

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!

I know what you're thinking. Day of Bitch Salad. I'm making another post advertizing something salacious then faking you out and being like "made ya look" and you're like "ugh. You are so desperate". BUT NOT TODAY!!! I'm not crying wolf... or rather, cock...

He's not really my cup of tea... well, actually, seeing as I frequently tout my love of English Dandies, he kind of is. So I guess I should shut my effin' mouth.

NEVERTHELESS - I actually do have pictures that were snapped of one Mr. Will Turner himself whilst him and his girlfriend were abroad, frolicking sexily in the surf (is there any other way to frolick in the surf/is there any other place to frolick sexily/is there any other thing to do sexily in the surf? Methink not.)

Anyway... uncensored pic after the jump...

And I think I can show it in its full, uncensored entirety...

I believe bums are allowed...

Anyway...

Here it is...

Kinda flat, huh?

Something that won't be flat? But, in fact, quite bulbous and flavorful?

TONIGHT TONIGHT TONIGHT TONIGHT TONIGHT TONIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, it's intoxicating. Hope to see you there!!!

Also - quick note - SUUUUPER congratulations to my dear, dear friend Katherine "Kitty" Ryan for winning the Nivea "Funniest New Female Standup In Britain" award - SO amazing. Watch your back, Jennifer Saunders.

Anyballs...

YAY!

--- Aj

Pre-Pride Preporatory Poop

Heyyyy everybody...

A fair Monday to you.

How was y'alls weekend? Mine was cool. Reasonably low-key. I'm currently saving/hoarding my juices for the coming weekend - as it's pride. One eventful thing that happened to me since last I blog'd, that I'd be remiss if I didn't mention, is that on Thursday night I attended the first-ever full-length solo show by brizilliant character comedienne Kathleen Phillips. Holy balls. It was the stuff that dreams were made of... particularly, this video:

Yes. I'm am so thoroughly obsessed with that at present.

Anyballs...

The weather here in Toronto continues to be retarded to the third degree. Scattered thunderstorms seem to have become a staple. I think I can kind of remember a time when thunderstorms were relatively rare - angels bowling, y'know - but I swear to crap that they've happened at least twice a day, EVERY day for the past two weeks. This just won't do.

I can't remember a Pride week when it hasn't been a shade below pristine, so it better fuck off by tomorrow... uhhhhbecause:

YEAHHHHHHH!!! TOMORROW TOMORROW TOMORROW TOMORROW!!!

With very special guests Sue Johansson and resident news corres-PUN-dant, Heidi Brander, pictured, to the left, to the left...

That is, of course, the profile picture from the myspace I set up for her this past Christmastime.

Backstory re: that. For a Christmas present, Heidi went to an authentic Japanese karaoke joint and recorded a full-length album of her singing Christmas songs and distributed to the discs to us. It was basically amazing. Basically.

Anyballs... Beyond that, you may recognize Heidi from a recurring segment at the Salad in which she reads news stories via puns... it's kind of the most amazing thing in the world.
Beyond her typical brand of pun slinging, she's also quite renowned in her work circle for weekly e-newsletters she sends out. The shit is pure gold. This past Friday, she sent out one suggesting do's and don't's that every hag must abide by this Pride... I'm simply going to re-publish it.

I’m here, I’m not queer, get used to it!

Every week is pride week when your name is Heidi Brander! A Saturday night for me typically consists of coordinating my outfit with my network of gays in hopes that I overhear someone point out, “Hey, that guy’s shoes match his hag”. But a gal can get bored when there’s nothing to do (in the most painfully literal sense.) Lucky for you I’m here to fill you in on what NOT to do.

I’ve been kicked out of more gay bars than there are colours of the rainbow, and I’m not even a troublemaker – I’m more Amy Adams than Amy Winehouse! Take heed, ladies: Here is a list of things that WILL get you booted from a gay bar:

-If it’s a rainy night and you have an umbrella in your purse DO NOT open it up on the dance floor during Rhianna’s “Umbrella”.

-When “S Club Party” by S Club 7 comes on, DO NOT attempt to do the worm on the dance floor. Yes, Paul’s getting down on the floor, but you’re getting tossed on the street.

-DO NOT hijack someone else’s song at gay karaoke by grabbing the other microphone and turning the song into a duet. Even if you DID ask for Karma Chameleon before he did.

-And, if caught by a bouncer, DO NOT fake right and break left, scurrying through the crowd Dolores Van Cartier-styles like minute 0:28 of this trailer for “Sister Act”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6CP72415jNQ. You are one of three girls in the establishment. They WILL find you.

Ohhhh Brander.

Also in Pre-Pride Prep Poop news, I thought I'd post my annual Pride Mix/This month's Bitch Salad mix. It's a delightful mish-mash or knick-and-knack-and-brick-and-brack-and-things of Pride anthems... some of them old, some of them new, ALL of the positively FAGTASTIC!

Here's the track listing:

Corona - Rhythm Of The Night [Planet Funk Breakbeat Mix]
Donna Summer - Stamp Your Feet [Escape & Colucio Mix]
Seamus Haji - Last Night A DJ Saved My Life [Original]
Crystal Waters - Dancefloor [Speakerbox Mix]
Duffy - Mercy [Gareth Wyn Mix]
The B-52's - Funplex [CSS Mix]
Metro Station - Shake It [Lenny B X-Mix]
Eyes Cream - Fly Away (Bye Bye) [Original]
Sylvester - You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) [Original]
The Waitresses - I Know What Boys Like [TNT Mix]
Robyn - Handle Me [Soul Seekerz Mix]
Kylie Minogue - All I See [Mark!s Deep House Mix
"High School Musical" Cast - What Time Is It? [Jason Nevins Mix]
Shapeshifters - Incredible [Original Extended]
Justin Timberlake - Lovestoned [Justice Mix]
Cheryl Lynn - Got To Be Real [Original]
Tweet - Boogie Tonite [DB Boulevard Mix]
Lady Gaga feat. Colby O'Donis - Just Dance [Trevor Simpson Mix]
Pussycat Dolls - When I Grow Up [Ralphi Rosario Mix]
C&C Music Factory - Work That Body 2008 [Alex Gaudino Mix]
Funkstar De Luxe vs. Grace Jones - Pull Up To The Bumper [Original]
Beyonce - Get Me Bodied [Hex Hector Mix]

Download/Listen to it HERE!!!

Yes... I know... a remix of a song from "High School Musical"... it was mainly at the prompting of celebrated co-fag, Tranthony Suppa. He's also the one who really prompts me to post these. Despite the fact that I know he'll only fast forward and rewind it to said "High School Musical" remix. And I'm always like "why don't I just send you that song" and he's like "NO! Post the whole thing"...

It's all very reminiscent of that story I reported about Anna Wintour years back... about how she'd ask her assistant to go to Brooklyn to get her this specific bowl of soup... then, she'd just through a gob of butter in it and eat the butter and, as her assistant noted, "it just seemed like a way to eat the butter". THE "HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL" REMIX IS THE BUTTER IN YOUR SOUP, ANTH!!!

Gah... I'm getting crazy... Methinks it's time to Peace Out...

So,

Peace out!

--- Aj

Haute Topics

Time is tight today, so let's dive right the fuck in...

A.) JAMIE LYNN SPEARS POPS


Where does the time go? It seemed like only yesterday (or at least last month) that the world was balls deep in news about the 'misadventures' of one Britney Spears only to see it all come to a thunderous crescendo when it was announced that her 17-year-old sister was pregnant. Those were the days.

Well bitch finally popped today - a bouncing baby girl named, *ahem*, Maddie Briann Spears Aldridge. Really. Really? Maddie Briann. They might as well have named it Trayla Trash. Or, if it were a boy, Taylor Trash.

I can't get over the sort of Southern baby-name aestethic - I don't even know if you'd call it that. But you know what I'm talking about - that pool of names that Southern people pick from that they think are pretty for some reason? How they name their kids shit like Cassie and Terri Ann and Shawnie and stuff? Ugh. If I were Jamie Lynn Spears I would have gone out of my way to name my daughter something like Guinevere Millicent [Spears Aldridge] or Brunhilda Prudence [Spears Aldridge] or some shit... Good grief...

B.) NIP/TUCK & THE CITY!!!

Reports are swirling that Sex & The City co-stars Cynthia "Miranda" Nixon and Kristen "Charlotte" Davis recently underwent cosmetic surgery to get they tee-ta's lifted and varicose veings plucked on out they legs, respectively.

I.) Who the fuck cares? Why is it news anymore when celebrities get plastic surgery? II.) This means one thing and one thing only: A SEQUEL IS UNDERWAY!!! AHHHHH!!!

That's what it totally means!!! It totally means that they saw the movie, were both like "yuccckkk... ", the producers were like "this was a monumental success... we're starting production on a sequel yesterday", and they were like "I needs to get that shiz fixed, y'all." Totttally...

I'm so excited about this unofficial sequel and I'll tell you what it should be - a prologue. Yep. To what they were doing pre-the first episode... like how they met. I've always hypothesized that Carrie & Miranda were friends from childhood (because how else would a corporate lawyer and a sex columnist be friends? Really.) and Carrie met Charlotte via repeatedly crossing paths at her gallery, but was always unsure about how Carrie and Samantha met... Well...

Last night I was revisitng S&TC, as I'm prone to doing before I go to bed. The episode in question was "Coulda Woulda Shoulda" - where Miranda finds out she's pregnant and initially decides to go for a good-old-fashioned abo. Samantha then says, "Well, we've all been there. I've had two-" then asks Carrie "How many have you had" and Carrie says, assertively "Umm... One!"...

Later, Samantha and Carrie are walking down the street discussing the unpleasantness of it all and how Carrie is going with Miranda to soften the blow. Then Carrie starts reminiscing about the guy who knocked her up all those years ago - he's a loser who still works at a TGI McFridays... - and remarks, "I could have a 13-year-old child by now"... THEN says to Samantha "But then I would have never known you".

CARRIE & SAMANTHA TOTALLY MET AT THE ABORTION CLINIC WHEN CARRIE WAS GETTING HER FIRST ABO AND SAMANTHA WAS GETTING HER SECOND ABO!!!

It all makes stunning, stunning sense. When Samantha asked Carrie how many she had at the breakfast nook, Carrie said "Ummm... One!" as in "Uhhh, you were there! That's how we met, asshole!" --- Anyway... yeah... make the sequel about shit like that.

C.) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DLISTED.COM's MICHAEL K!!!

Lift a glass and make a toast to the ultimate tastemaking blogger - and my inevitable future husband - Michael K. of dlisted.com - thank you for the countless hours of entertainment.

D.) THE HAUTEST TOPIC OF ALL...............

TUESDAY TUESDAY TUESDAY!!!

AND, I'm very pleased to announce, we'll be having a very special guest: Septugenarian sexpert SUE JOHANSON!!!

It's going to be OUT. OF. CONTROL.

I've used far too many caps this time around...

OH - and this was my 300th post. Who knew?

--- Aj

What the balls is a Flibbertigibbet???

Well, according to wikipedia, it's a term used to describe a flighty, whimsical, gossipy, overly talkative person and has its roots in Anglo-Saxon mythology and Shakespearean lore.

It's also used by one of those bitchy cunt nuns to describe Maria in the song "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?" in The Sound of Music.

The song, "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?" is the title of a reality show currently on CBC which sets out to find the lead in the upcoming Mirvish production of The Sound of Music.

AND I'M OBSESSED WITH IT!!! AHHHH!!!

Seeing as I work at Mirvish, the lot of us went over to the CBC atrium yesterday for the official unveilling and press conference of the Top 10 Marias hosted by ever-delightful and super-sweetheart Gavin Crawford.

I happenstancially taped it on Sunday night and it's some good times, y'all. Hundreds upon hundreds of obnoxious, outgoing female musical theatre types auditioned in front of a panel of judges that included:

A dude named Simon Leeds, who is A.) Andrew Lloyd Webber's right hand music dude and B.) Busted with a capital B... if the damning effects of the tanning bed weren't made clear to me yesterday upon laying eyes on this man, I don't know what will...

Another dude named John Barrowman, who's apparently a leading man in London's West End and one of the stars of Doctor Who. He's A.) Smarmier than a tiger-skin rug soaked in perfume and B.) Debatably British. He doesn't speak with an accent. Maybe it's some sort of gesture to being on Canadian soil. It's weird.

Annnnd...

The hottest bitch alive, Elaine Overholt (pictured). Here are the deets about Lainey O - she's a vocal coach and arranger who's worked on Chicago, Hairspray and a slew of other big shit deal musical endeavours. Buuut - before all this fame and acclaim came to her, she worked on a little show called "Popstars: The One" which a friend of mine (who I won't name, but it's not hard to figure out) was on. Elaine and my friend hit it off... after the dust of Popstars: The One settled, my friend went and worked as Elaine's personal assistant. During her tenure, one of the greatest stories was relayed to me that I've ever heard: Elaine frequently holds vocal workshops. They'd be held in some sort of conference room. Chairs would be set up facing the front, recital-stylez. As guests would filter in, Elaine would greet them - "Hello. Oh, hello!". Then, some point after, Elaine would tap my friend on the shoulder, say "It's time", and disappear behind a rice-paper folding screen set up at the front. My friend would then go to the front, ask people to get settled, welcome to the workshop, saying something to the extent of "Are you ready to raise your voice in song today? Please welcome your friend and mine, Elaine Overholt!"

At which point Elaine would emerge from behind the rice-paper folding screen. Yeah. She's already mingled with people. Then disappears. Then reappears. If there's one person who knows the effect of and the desire to make an entrance, it's me. Work it out, Elaine Overholt. FIERCE.

Anyway - they're the judges. And along with Andrew Lloyd Webber, they selected the Top 10 girls who could each be Maria. They're a mixed bag... let me tell ya...

Yesterday at this press conference it expressed by 'leading man' John Barrowman that all of these girls could be Maria - they're all talented and right for the part (I WHOLE HEARTEDLY DISAGREE) - this is merely a matter of letting the public decide who they very specifically want for the part. Yep - Canada votes. It's like Maria Idol. I don't know about that... upon expressing how iffy I was about that, I was told that "it was a hit in England" - where seemingly everything television-wise happens first. I said that maybe true, but Canadians are a.) working on a much smaller scale and b.) oh-so-fucking apethetic about this sort of shit. They're not going to furiously vote for a girl who stole their heart then climb out from under whater rock they live under to flock to Toronto to kiss her feet. Anyone who does watch this and somehow feels motivated to vote is just going to vote who reminds them of Julie Andrews the most...

That said - my favourite is EASILY Janna. EASILY. LOOK AT HER!!! She's perfect. In that she reminds me of Julie Andrews the most. And I lovvvves me some Julie Andrews.

Plus - from what I've seen - she can actually sing and actually act and - most importantly of all - twirl like there's no tomorrow. Twirling is paramount.

And she stands out from the pack - upon seeing them yesterday, it was just a bunch of slightly out-of-shape sopranos who nattered like birds. For real - they all sound the same... when they laugh, it's in melody. It was all very reminiscent of Amy Adams as "Princess Giselle" in Enchanted. Picture that TIMES 10.

So yeah, I don't know what shape it's going to take - the competition, that is. At first I thought it was like each week they all took the stage and performed the same song from the show, and the audience voted on whose rendition they liked the best... like "WEEK ONE - THE LONELY GOATHERD!" But apparently it really is Idol-stylez... different songs, different genres. And really - this is a better prize than the one they receive on Idol. On Idol, they're groomed to be disposable domestic products... they get to make an album and have some time in the sun for one year and one year only - it's all very akin to Miss America at this point. But this show, they actually get something useful - a job. I'd have to imagine whomever wins this will probably have equal if not greater notoriety than the winner of the current season of Canadian Idol, so hey, good on ya...

Anyway - that's what I'm obsessed with... Jesus in heaven, there really is nothing on television this summer...

I've heard it re-airs tonight at 8, so why don't you tune into CBC tonight and see your tax dollars at work...

Something that will NOT be re-airing, so you best not miss it ---

JUST UNDER ONE WEEK AWAY!!! AHHHHH!!!

That'll be it today. Did you know that tomorrow will mark my 300th post?

Fuck. What have I done with my life?

Ta!

--- Aj