Last night I braved the snow - YES, SNOW. WHAT THE FUCK?!?! - to venture out to the cinema to take in "The Secret Life of Bees".
I'd tell you more about it, but it's a secret.
No. It wasn't so great. I enjoyed it, because I enjoy things that feature black ladies, but me-don't-thinks anybody's gonna be winning any Oscars from it.
It featured quite serviceable performances by Jennifer Hudson (who, yes, as it turns out, can act after all... suck it, Sex & The City: The Movie and the doubts that arose thereafter) and apparent cellist Alicia Keys - who, by the by, played the bitchy sister. Make no mistake about that.
Queen Latifah looked the portrait of a 1960's bee-keeping bull dyke (I know - is there any other kind?). Latifah is fast cornering the market on wise, elder authoritative black ladies... kinda like a female Morgan Freeman.
Dakota Fanning was her usual intense, precocious self. I don't care how normal an adolescence she's seeming to have, that bitch is always going to be the ringleader from Village of the Damned to me.
The real revelation of the evening (if there was one) was Sophie Okonedo as borderline retarded sister, Mae. I actually put her right up there with Sean Penn in "I Am Sam", Dustin Hoffman in "Rain Man" and Rosie O'Donnell in "Riding The Bus With My Sister" in terms of commendable cinematic portrayals of specially abled folk. Look at me being so PC. Ooh La La!
It must have kind of sucked for Sophie Okonedo, though. She's this fucking RADA-trained tragedian and she's playing opposite people whose acting credits include "Charlotte's Web", American Idol, "The Nanny Diaries" and of course, "Living Single".
I will say this about Jennifer Hudson, though: Just like the saying goes that "nobody gets beaten to death like Hilary Swank", no one can go from desperate to sassy like Jennifer Hudson. I'm very happy to know that she's finding her niche.
In other news:
Have you seen this yet? Y'should.
Wow.
I can only hope that she pulls out that condescending, passive-aggressive, "talking-to-8-year-olds" tone out of her pocket when she tries to finagle the nukes away from Kim Jong Ill.
ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?! The extent to which this bitch knows not what she says is getting out of control at this point!
I often joke that "I don't mean to play logistic police right now, but..." - I can't tell you how much I believe there truly SHOULD be some sort of private 'logic' brigade or something that can intervene when things just don't fucking make a stitch of sense - LIKE THE POSSIBILITY THAT THIS DUMB BITCH MIGHT BE RUNNING THE FREE WORLD IN A MATTER OF MONTHS!!!
Last Tuesday, of course, marked a particularly Sapphic edition of Bitch Salad - a Gi-normous thank you to all who came out for that ('GI-normous' both as in superlatively huge AND vaGInally...)
It wasn't as lesbo-centric in terms of an audience turnout as I thought - which was just as well, as my lesbo-centric material was scant at best. But yeah - suu-h-uuper-fun. I totally put more germs in my head insofar as doing theme shows WITHIN the already themed show that Bitch Salad is. I.E. an all musical edition... or an all-'urban' edition... or... uhh... an all-puppeteer edition... yeah... probably not... whatevs...
So the excitement continued when last Wednesday saw me attend the opening of Mivish Productions' restaging of the beloved classic "The Sound of Music" - something I was waiting for with baited breath, considering my overly enthusiastic interest in the CBC reality show, "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?" this past summer.
In three words: Feel Good Time.
I don't know if you're a fan of the movie at all, or fuck, even SAW the movie - as a shockingly high number of people I've spoken to haven't (read: One person. I can't believe anyone has NOT seen the movie?!?! I thought some sort of accrued knowledge of the Family Von Trapp was more requisite in someone's childhood than the assfucking Bible... meh)... - but this thing definitely lived up to it.
The solution to "How [Exactly] [You Do] Solve a Problem Like Maria?", underdog Elicia MacKenzie, definitely worked it out. She still isn't nor shall she ever be runner up/predicted winner Janna Polzin (who, incidentally, alternates in the part Wednesday evenings and Sunday matinees), but she's definitely believable in the part of flibbertigibbet songbird nanny/mistress, Maria Rainer-Von Trapp.
Other highlights include Noella Huet's "Mother Abbess"... although her acting ranges from barely passable to passable, she can sing like a motherfucker. Like a motherfucker, let me tell ya. Upon hearing her fuck the shit out of the last phrase in the first-act closer "Climb Ev'ry Mountain", you'll be hard pressed to find yourself sitting on a dry seat. It's devastating.
And, of course, the bitch who plays Gretl is mayhaps the fiercest bitch who's e'er lived. She literally needs to blink and the audience full blown ovates. It's nuts. I was ACTUALLY star struck by her at the after party. I kept almost approaching her, only to come to my senses and be like "Dude... she still poops her pants... we can't hang out."
Some differences from the movie:
In the live version, the staple "My Favourite Things" is NOT sung to the children in bed to distract them from the thunder storm, but instead by the Mother Abbess to Maria in an uncharacteristically secular move. Good heavens!
What Maria does, in fact, sing to the children to lift their spirits during the thunderstorm, is instead "The Lonely Goatherd" - a song famously done in a marionette orgy in the film. This was incredibly disappointing, as I was hoping with all my might that there'd be a chorus of people pretending to be marionettes. BUT NO. Instead, it's just Maria yodelling to the kids as they scream their heads off. I thought, "Fuck... could there not be a little bit of reimagining here? Like maybe a mash-up of "The Lonely Goatherd" and Gwen Stefani's "Wind It Up"? Like have Gretl come out like "This is the key that makes us wind up..." But no. Anyballs...
Another thing that is noticeably different in the stage production is the part of the Baroness - she's not the skanky, jealous tranny that people have come to know and love from the film... but instead a quite noble and feminine character who simply can't have a meeting of the minds with the Captain... BORING! I WANTED TRANNY BARONESS!!! Instead of being played by a Kathleen Turner-type, as she should have been, she was played by a Gwenyth Paltrow-type, if that gives you any idea.
Anyballs - the party afterwards was fine. Cramped as fuck, as it was held in the actual theatre, because - as I'm told - every banquet hall in the city has been booked due to some mystery conference of sorts. There was a considerable food shortage, and it was all Austrain-themed.
During the show, at one point Elicia/Maria rewards herself for a job well done making clothes out of curtains or something, by sneaking a pastry, but is then busted by the Baroness. I then remarked to my co-horts that if Elicia/Maria needs to do that 8 shows a week, she's going to end up like Jenna Maroney in the episode of "30 Rock" when she comes back from summer hiatus performing in "Mystic Pizza: The Musical" on Broadway, only to have gained 50 pounds from having to eat 3 pieces of pizza on stage per show... I couldn't find a clip of it, but because the more 30 Rock you can mention, the better, DO enjoy Jenna performing her Number 1 smash hit (on the Israeli pop charts), "Muffin Top":
Anyballs - this whole Mystic Pizza: The Musical thing was worth mentioning, because afterwards, upon discovering that the scant food selection was all of Austrian persuasion (Cabbage Rolls, Schnizel, Pickeled motherfucking Herring...), my compatriot Heidi remarked that "now [she] really does wish this was Mystic Pizza: The Musical". Ha. Because then various pizza-things would have been served. Meh - it was funny at the time.
So yes...
Go see "The Sound of Music". And by all means join me in having "The Lonely Goatherd" in my head for the rest of days.
I'm going to see "The Secret Life of Bees" tonight. Jennifer Hudson is in it. I expect sass by the barrell full.
I kind of have been all week. It's been one of those weeks. But I won't get into that right now. I've had a little bit of a situation to deal with that I'm mere steps away from being Katharine-McPhee-quotingly "Over It"... but yeah...
WHAT A WEEK!
Through my boozey haze, it's not gone unnoticed how crazy things have been... firstly, there's been some sort of kerfuffle in the financial world that my boss and other crazy rich people like him are in a downright tizzy about.
CRAZY, TRUE STORY: He actually needed to go to a funeral this week of some financial dude he knows who committed suicide because of it!!! It's like the old tymey days of the depression when stock brokers jumped out of windows and people have to ration bread crumbs!!! Hot diggity, somebody put on some music for me to Charleston to!
Anyballs... I'm in the arts living directly ON the poverty line, so not too much is going to change for me.
We have an election coming up here, as well... this coming Tuesday, October 14th... which just so happens to coincide with:
THAT'S RIGHT!!! THIS COMING TUESDAY!!! Go and vote, then celebrate the democracy you've just demonstrated by taking a Journey to the Isle of Lesbos!!! FUN!
OH - and, because if we at Bitch Salad are anything we're topical, we'll be welcoming SUPER SPECIAL GUEST... ... ... ... SARAH PALIN!!! Yep!
She'll be stopping by to promote lesbianism as a form of abstinence. Because really, that's what it is. I mean, what exactly happens there?! Not sex, that's all I know. = )
Anyballs...
As I was saying, we do have an election coming up, and as such, I was invited to come and do some talking head thing for MTV.
It was perhaps 5 minutes before I shot this that it occurred to me that I don't even remotely follow Canadian politics and have absolutely no fucking clue what I'm going to say.
I think I just kept saying "I love that bitch from the Green Party! She's CRAZY!" over and over again. I also think I said I liked her because she was like Vicki Gabereau-meets-Courtney Love. I found out some time after this that her name is Elizabeth May, of course. I had no clue at the time. So yeah. That didn't go so swimmingly...
I'll be voting Liberal, natch. Always have, always will. But I live in Jack Layton's riding, so it won't make much difference.
One piece of homegrown Election news that I found interesting appeared to me on my daily scanning of Queer Click (the link is extremely, purposefully NSFW... so don't go there lest ye be bombarded by images of cock...) - which is basically a blog that rounds up gay porn site updates (with a pretty blatant penchant for foreskin, but that might just be me) that occasionally includes a round up of news stories relevant to the gay community, and this little item jumped out at me...
In short... the lone gay conservative candidate, like, ever, resigned because of controversial comments he made on a [now-defunct] blog.
Comments to the tune of: "Allow law-abiding citizens who are qualified and trained to carry concealed handguns for personal protection. It's the only proven way to reduce violent crime and murder. If women and gays really wanted to stop being victims of hate crimes, they'd be in support of this, but judging from discussions, they'd rather be helpless and rely on government."
Y'know, good old fashioned crazy-talk like that.
CRAZY TRUE STORY: I went to University with him. I believe he's actually on my facebook. I seem to recall getting an invite from him to an event entitled "I'm voting conservative in the next election!" and was like "SHWHAT?! Helllllllllll to the no." and then thought to myself, "Isn't he a fag? And he's conservative? Now I've seen everything". So yeah. Nuts!
Wasn't all of that completely pointless and incoherent? It's what happens when I attempt to talk politics. I should just stick to what I know...
And what I DO know, it's hot, crazy bitches...
I.E. - my new obsession...
KLYMAXX!!!
I don't know why Klymaxx aren't a bigger deal. Klymaxx was 6-piece, all-girl band made up of a gaggle of dark 'n lovely sistahs each darker and lovelier than the last. Of note: they all played instruments. More of note: their signature touch included a boastful, sassy monologue at the beginning of their songs - not a rap, mind you, but a monologue. Check this shit out: Yep... let's review that...
"Uh, I had to leave my condo to come to this / Well, I’m back, but this time I’m with my man / And these women are puttin’ their hands all over his Yamamoto Kanzai sweater that I bought / And I’m much, much unhappy about that / I’d hate to come down to their level and become a BW - A Basic Woman / But if they don’t stop it’s gonna get scandalous"
"I know I was lookin' good / I had my Kenneth Cole shoes on / My Gianni Versace blue leather suit / My nails were done and my hair was fierce / And I was riding in a Cooper's limousine / Don't you want to ride..."
I'm really starting to get the impression that these ladies are quite tasteful. What with the mentions of driving in Cooper's limousines and the wearing of a blue leather suit. Oh-la-la.
Anyballs... I'm about to peace out for the weekend. Back to Brockville, cuz y'all, it be Thanksgiving.
But before I go, here's something for your weekend... it's the Bitch Salad: Journey To The Isle of Lesbos mix!
Originally, I had intended to make the mix, like the show, entirely Sapphic, and strictly feature remixes of artists who eat pussy.
As you can imagine, that was a little limited.
So I just said "EFF IT!" and went top 40... the tracklisting...
John Legend feat. Andre 3000 - Green Light (Johnny Douglas Mix) Coldplay - Viva La Vida (Telemitry Mix) Katy Perry - Hot 'N Cold (Jason Nevins Mix) Hilary Duff - Reach Out (Touch Me) (Chico & Bermudez Mix) Tami Chynn feat. Akon - Frozen (Ralphi Rosario Mix) Vanessa Hudgens - Sneakernight (Alberto Castillo Mix) Kreesha Turner - Don't Call Me Baby (Digital Dog Mix) Chris Brown - Forever (Bobby Bass & J Remy Mix) Jordin Sparks - One Step At A Time (Jason Nevins Mix) Pink - So What (Bimbo Jones Mix) Natasha Bedingfield - Angel (Moto Blanco Mix) Neyo - Closer (Norty Cotto Mix) Jilly Scott - Golden (Grant Nelson Mix) Lindsay Lohan - Bossy (Soulshaker Mix)
First off - what the balls does that mean, you ask?
Well, it's short form for my current catchphrase and affirmative mantra, "What Would Elayne Boosler Do?"
WHO, you may ask, is Elayne Boosler? And that's a shame.
That you'd have to ask at all. *Sigh-on-behalf-of-the-great-Boosler*.
Elayne Boosler is THE quintessential lady-comic from the 80's, right down to her charmeuse vest and mullette'd Jewess fro.
Check out some of her zingers:
- “We have women in the military, but they don't put us in the front lines. They don't know if we can fight, if we can kill. I think we can. All the general has to do is walk over to the women and say, 'You see the enemy over there? They say you look fat in those uniforms.'”
- “My ancestors wandered lost in the wilderness for forty years because even in biblical times, men would not stop to ask for directions”
- “When women are depressed, they eat or go shopping. Men invade another country."
And of course... the ULTIMATE Booslerism...
- "I just discovered a new brand - super-extra-sensitive condoms. Wow, do they stick around and talk to you after the guy leaves?"
And just to give you the faintest taste of her on stage persona, I compel you to watch this clip of her at Comic Relief, 198something...
Yeah. She's like the hyper-liberated, tart-tongued best friend of Cathy from the Cathy comics. Like "Elayne! You can't say that!"... at which point BamBoosler would reply to Cathy, "Oh yeah? WATCH ME."
Anyballs - I've been obsessed with Elayne Boosler. Particularly because I've recently been touring exponentially more than I usually do, and finding myself in front of a brick wall background (because yes, a lot of comedy clubs steadfastly retain that stereotypical aestethic), surrounded by unbelievably zany headshots of comics from yore. Why, just this past weekend in London, Ontario, I found myself sharing personal space with none other than a signed 8x10 circa 1988 of none other than Judy Tenuta. Holy fuck. (Apparently, back in the 80's, the BamBoosler was too big for London...)
So yeah... "What Would Elayne Boosler Do?" has gotten me through many a sticky comedy situations over the past couple of weeks. Not answering the question, just saying it. Mainly abbreviated - WWEBD? It's just fun to say. Because in truth, odds are what Elayne Boosler would actually end up doing is making some underhanded jab at men then asking, "ladies, am I right?" Class frickin' act, that Boosler.
I really don't know why I felt compelled to tell you all of that. I'm kind of medicated right now - I've got that cold that everyone's got... and I'm going to catch the premiere open dress rehearsal of "The Sound of Music" tonight. So we'll see how enchanting that is to sit through with a head cold. I'm guessing not very.
Something that will enchant the pants clear off your bums, and, in some cases, frums?
WE'RE BACK!
A very, VERY special edition that, for realsies, I've been trying to do since DECEMBER of last year... yep, this has basically been a year in the making. Your options are kind of limited, though, when there are like, 6 lesbians comics in this country to choose from and you need 5, so yeah. But, at long last, Bitch Salad: Journey To The Isle of Lesbos is happening!!!
Anyballs... I'm off to get The Lonely Goatherd stuck in my head for all eternity.
That's how I feel about the Emmy's. On one hand, I love them because it's a plentiful kudos-fest honouring the brightest stars of prime time TV. On the other hand, I hate them because most of the time they suck giant squid balls (or whatever sort of genitalia those elusive crustaceans boast)...
After a positively exhausting (in a good way) weekend in Kitchener, slinging jokes at Yuk Yuks like a regular Elayne Boosler, I come home to find a gruesomely awful offering of recorded fare from this weekend past: the, hands-down, WORST episode of SNL in recent memory - hosted by James Franco, who methinks takes himself a titch too seriously - and last night's Emmy telecast.
As it turns out, this year was the first year that an award was presented in the category of "Best Reality Show Host", and someone finagled the cockamamie idea that "hey! what if we had all of them host the show?!?!?"... file that one under 'it seemed like a good idea the time'... it was bad... horrendously so.
After a polite "Happy 60th Birthday, Emmys" address by a noticeably heavier-than-I-remember-her Oprah Winfrey, the 5 reality show hosts - Survivor'sJeff Probst, American Idol'sRyan Seacrest, Dancing With The Stars'Tom Bergeron, Deal Or No Deal'sHowie "Don't touch my hands" Mandel, and Project Runway'sHeidi Klum (who, really, might as well have been a fucking blowup doll, she was so useless... her 'schtick' seemed to revolve around her being attractive and a girl all night... which is historically never funny... but no... she would literally blow kisses in lieu of delivering what would have traditionally been zingers to conclude her segues...) - and it all just dissolved right into shit from the word 'go'.
You'd think they'd have learned their lesson last year when Seacrest hosted it solo, but no... apprently the grand notion was that 5 Seacrests would be better than 1, but how wrong they were.
This is precisely why, right here, RIGHT now, I am kicking off the campaign to bring Kathy Griffin in next year... she's the only one who could save this pile of puke, and, for realsies, what do they have to lose? It'd be raucous and unpredictable, colorful and anticipated... she's the only big-name comedian who's buzz-worthily relevant without being too MTV-ish. KATHY G IN 2009!!!
Speaking of Kathy G, out-and-out highlight was the pairing of her with the chairman, Don Rickles - who's commendably still 'with it' at his staggering 82
years of age.
In a refreshing display of "fuck it up the ass... what the balls do I have to lose?", Rickles slammed the powers-that-be, mocking the uninventive patter and stole the show in the process. He actually won an Emmy later, too. So there ya go. Cake and eating said cake, too.
Other [scant] highlights included, but are not limited to:
- I don't know how the balls they finagled it, but some of the [memorable] cast members of Laugh In dragged their 70-something-year-old asses up there to present the best variety series award. Members included Gary Owens, Alan Sues (one of the first gays on network TV!),Lily Tomlin (who, you'd'a thunk, would have better things to do, but meh), RUTH BUZZI (who's AMAZING... she's like the original Rachel Dratch... she's sorely underrated... let me tell ya), and of course, the finest manifestation of the universe, Miss JoAnne Worley.
It's, of course, no secret that I have a bit of a thing for JoAnne Worley - whose voice you may well recognize as Hoppopotamus from The Wuzzles... - and gazing at her visage to left, to the left, I can't imagine you'd wonder why.
Anyballs... Pressing on...
- The dude who won for writing that heavily lauded John Adams biopic getting cut off about 5 seconds into his speech... and then, precisely when he's trying to make a very poignant point about back then the United States was all about articulating arguments and democracy democracy democracy blah blah blah - they cut to a bumper promoting the best reality series award... ouch... ouch ouch ouch!!! So he goes from something like "this is especially important at a time when our country is at such a crossro-"-CUT TO-"Will it be Top Chef, American Idol, Bad Girls Club..." It was SO graceless. AMAZING!
- I was wondering what business Lauren Conrad had being there, and, from the looks of it, so did David Boreanaz. That made me very happy.
- WHAT THE BALLS WAS THAT JOSH GROBAN BULLSHIT ALL ABOUT?!?!?! If you haven't seen it... please... share the pain...
Yeah. I really don't know how to explain that. However, I don't think it was so much him being like "I'm Josh Groban. I don't take myself too seriously, and now's my chance to prove it!" as much as it was him thinking "I'm Josh Groban. I can truly do anything. If anyone has any doubts about why I'm David Foster's buttboy, this will surely silence them!". Yeah. That was fucked.
- Tommy Smothers getting a special Emmy. I'll tell you precisely why Tommy Smothers getting an Emmy - well, fuck, getting mentioned at all - is significant for me, and the answer may shock and amaze you... the year was 1966... Tommy Smothers, vacationing in Alberta's rocky mountains, met a
young nurse at a popular five-star resort... a winsome, raven-haired young lady named Cheryl Cassidy. The two hit off right then and there and began a torrid, however brief, affair.
Why is this important? Because that winsome, raven-haired young lady Cheryl Cassidy grew up to become MY MOM!!! AHHHH!!! TOMMY SMOTHERS WAS ALMOST MY DAD!!! I WAS ALMOST ANDREW SMOTHERS!!!
AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
So yeah...
And, of course, highlight of highlights...
- Elizabeth Samatina Fey takes home three effin' Emmys. One for writing, one for best comedy series (2nd year in a row) and one for best actress in a comedy series. That made me so happy, it's wrong. Just wrong. This woman is the genius of her generation and anyone who argues this needs to be shot.
Alec Baldwin - who also very deservingly won best actor in a comedy series (apparently his first win) - said some garbage about how she's the Elaine May of her generation. Ummm, no. Try the Mark Twain of her generation.
NO - actually, fuck that - try the Aristotle of her generation.
NOOO - scrap all of that above shit - try the Jesus Q. Shakespeare of her generation.
NOOOOOOOO - forget EVERYTHING I said above - try the Shelley Long of her generation.
Yes... to me, comparing someone to Shelley Long IS the highest compliment you can give someone. Because, y'see, I'm fucked up.
Anyballs... thought I'd mention that if, in the off-chance in my most desperate fantasy that Tina Fey actually reads my blog, I at least said it.
I'm presently alone in my office listening to "Life Is A Highway" by the ever-enigmatic Tom Cochrane - which is all too fitting considering the amount of time I'll be spending on the highway this weekend and next... this Friday Imma comin' to Kitchener/Waterloo and next to majestic London, Ontario - so if you're in either of those places, come to Yuk Yuks and see me. And we'll make out. Probably.
Anyballs - onto much, much, MUCH important fare... namely:
MY SEMI-ANNUAL ASSESSMENT OF THE GIRLS FROM THE CURRENT CYCLE OF AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MODEL AND WHO THE BALLS THEY LOOK LIKE!!!
Yep...
Well, makeovers happened last night, so it would have just been pointless of me to do this before then - before their looks have settled. But now it's open season...
Something I've noticed this season, as per compared to other cycles, is that all these bitches look like crosses of something and something. Like, no one looks like any one person definitively... they're all ____ meets ____... for instance...
Icy blonde stunner Lauren Brie...
Is a cross between Rachel McAdams circa Mean Girls and Charlize Theron (although personality-wise she reminds me of Cerie from 30 Rock... nevertheless...)
Potential slave to a Saudi Arabian Analeigh (or rather Anal Lee as I know her...)
Comprised of grimey psychopath Denise Richards and self-photographer Miley Cyrus...
All-American girl next door Samantha...
Equal parts she-hulk Brooke Hogan and electro-pop hipster princess Robyn... (pretty much because of the hair... you know you thought the same thing, and for no other reason than the fucking hair...)
Tranny-hating tophy wife-in-training Clark...
One part shrill sensationalist demagogue Ann Coulter, one part 80's era Cher...
Painfully awkward Marseille-ite Marjorie...
Pre-anorexic Claire Danes, meet Hilary Swank as Brandon Teena from Boys Don't Cry...
Unusually lip'd, unfortunately named boxer McKey...
... the sunned love child of Canadian supermodel Linda Evangelista, and Tim Curry as Frank 'N Furter in The Rocky Horror Picture Show...
Tickety-tock tranny Isis...
... the result of dulcet songstress Sade, and Angel from Rent.
Latest evictee from the Top Model house Brittany...
Equals the broad appeal of Halle Berry plus the just-so placed facial hair of Frida Khalo...
High-pitched good time girl Joslyn...
... the result of former SNL funnywoman Ellen Cleghorne and an unidentified sperm donor...
Newly highlighted Asian girl from 'da hood Sheena...
An exciting cross between the "Rachel" from the Japanese version of Friends - Koharu Kusumi - and popular science fiction starlet (not to mention the daughter for action hero Steven Segal...), Ayako Fujitani... yeah... I got nothin'... sorry... Sheena just looked like any other gentrified Asian chick you'd see on the corner of Dundas and Spadina...
Smoulderingly racist Alaskan Hannah...
The incredibly distasteful duo of emaciated songbird Karen Carpenter and latest kidnapped 'It'-girl Madeline McCann...
And lastly... drastically made-over bixsexual stunner Elina...
Patron Saint of all things sensuous Angelina Jolie, and early-90's shit disturber Curly Sue...
That was an effin' good movie. I think I'm going to buy it today.
So what has it been? Since last Wednesday? Woo-howdy, I need to get on top of this shit. So much hath transpired since then...
First off: I'm well aware that I have yet to say but two words about the current crop of gals on the 11th glorious season of America's Next Top Model... but rest assured, my requisite blog appointing all the girls' doppelgangers is well under way... I typically wait for the makeovers before I cast any judgement...
Secondly: Thursday I got a call out of the blue that I was to come in and showcase at Yuks for a corporate client. Showcases are to comics what go-see's are to Top Models, y'see... Anyballs, guess who the client was? A lesbian softball association. Yep. With orders to keep it as inoffensive as possible and lesbo-sensitive. Yeah. Suffice to say, I didn't get the gig. I knew I should have busted out of my A League of Their Own material (which, by the way, I have an unsurprising abundance of...)
B'aaanyway, I spent the weekend drunk out of my skull, just like old times, which was nice.
Saturday night saw the birthday of Alex "Faith" Brown (named "Faith" after the now infamous armless canine who's captured the hearts of millions... :
... weird.) for which we were supposed to depart to at 11 PM. Then someone threw out the suggestion that we "just watch the first sketch" of SNL's season premiere. Yeah. That never happens. We ended up watching the whole fucking thing.
So yeah... on the whole, not great. They are going to be BEYOND screwed when Amy Poehler leaves in a few short weeks. BEYOND screwed. Casey Wilson, as lovely as she seems, isn't working. It's not going to happen. Put her out to pasture in a supporting role on a spin-off of The Office or something, but get her out of there.
That new fat guy could go either way. I'm going to reserve judgement of him until precisely the third episode, as I didn't necessarily "get" Fred Armisen right away either... little did I know he'd grow into Nicholas Fehn and of course, Nuni of "Nuni & Nuni" fame. If you don't know what I'm talking about right now, you probably think I'm a.) boring and b.) crazy. Which is quite a commendable combination of things to be, not gonna lie.
Anyballs... Andy Samberg ruled my fucking life with his impression of Cathy of Cathy Guisewite's Cathy comic strip fame... And to think... Cathy was the Carrie Brandshaw of her day back in the late 70's... WAKE ME UP WHEN I'M A SIZE 5!!! Ladies... am I right?
However, that Jar Glove thing made me lose it.
Kristen Wiig - thank God for you.
And of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the thing that everyone's been talking about... Tina Fey's triumphant return as Sarah Palin...
Yep... probably the most must-see [live] thing to come out of that show since the infamous Debbie Downer giggle-fest of aught-Four... it's been EVERYWHERE recently.
Poehler and Fey, together again - already a dream scenario - channelling Sarah Palin and Hilary Clinton - another dream scenario - talkin' sexism.
If you were Hilary Clinton, I think one of your absolute saving graces must be when Amy Poehler does you. Because not only does Amy Poehler cause things to be awesome simply by association, but because each and every time she spoofs Hilary, very prevalent issues are brought to light and things are said that Hilary could neither bring to light nor say herself without being completely vilified by the press. Like, if you were to be watching it with Hilary, it must just be 5 straight minutes of her yelling at the TV, "THANK YOU! See?! SEE?! Oh, TOTALLY! YES! Oh my God, ME TOO! I know!"
It's so astoundingly true that the issue of sexism isn't factoring into anyone's treatment of Palin, and it's largely because Hilary made 15,000,000 cracks in that ceiling. Kind of unfair that all Palin had to do was peck at it with the duress of a baby duck cracking through its egg shell to shatter that ceiling and all of a sudden, be taken seriously.
Of course, another reason that sexism isn't playing a huge role in persecuting Sarah Palin, could be that the bitch has done more than enough ass-crazy shit to easily overshadow that.
Yes. Under Sarah Palin, rape victims - or, rather, rape-ee's, if you will - had to buy their own "rape kits" - or, rather, rapeables, if you will - to collect the necessary evidence to convict their offenders.
Of course, this begs the obvious: I guess somebody's never been raped. Because from what I've heard, it's not a terribly pleasant experience, and usually, people who have been raped don't like to be reminded of this fact. I can't imagine running price comparisons and checking customer referrals on different brands of "rape kits" is at the top of anyone's list of things they love to do.
On the other hand, maybe Sarah Palin's totes been raped, and just thinks "ahhh, what's good for the goose is good for the gander".
Taking a cue from the zany names of Sarah Palin's children (Track, Trig, Bristol, Willow, and Piper), this highly scientific device generates what your name would be if you were blessed enough to be born of Sarah Palin...
What's yours?! Mine is: Lock Pepper Palin.
Good times.
Well not really.
It's terribly depressing to think that this woman might soon be leader of the free world (because make no mistake about it... John McCain will die. Like, 2 days after whomever's elected gets elected. He will. He'll fall down in the shower or something, but he will.)
Anyway, no matter how terrible things get, always remember - at least your arms aren't as fat as Jordin Sparks'.
--- Aj
PS - Slight photoshopographic exaggeration. Only slight, though.
Queen Latifah looked the portrait of a 1960's bee-keeping bull dyke (I know - is there any other kind?). Latifah is fast cornering the market on wise, elder authoritative black ladies... kinda like a female Morgan Freeman.
I don't know why Klymaxx aren't a bigger deal. Klymaxx was 6-piece, all-girl band made up of a gaggle of dark 'n lovely sistahs each darker and lovelier than the last. Of note: they all played instruments. More of note: their signature touch included a boastful, sassy monologue at the beginning of their songs - not a rap, mind you, but a monologue. Check this shit out:
--- Aj