Thursday, May 25, 2006

I was flipping through the channels the other day and I happened to catch the most disturbing program ever. It was on the E! Channel (surprise, surprise). It was called The Girls Next Door, and it was an "expose" on Hugh Hefner and his current stable of girlfriends. Actually, it was the E! True Hollywood Story (ugh) on the E! Channel's reality series The Girls Next Door, so it was an E! Channel expose on a TV show produced by the E! Channel. So this shocking "expose" was basically a long commercial for the channel's own damn show. Clever.

So Hugh Hefner is like 80 years old and he has seven girlfriends, all in their 20's (although one is 18, I think. Feeling queasy yet?) I only caught the last half of the special, thank Godfully, and these were the highlights:

  • The "head" (hee!) girlfriend, (who is a dead-eyed, dead-faced, dead ringer for Pamela Anderson) gave just about the creepiest interview ever. She was positioned in front of this cheesey backdrop with a streaming water fountain thing that totally looked like a Fanta-Suite hotel room, sitting sort of cross-legged on the floor and BOLT upright-- she was like one of those poseable figurine dolls with the wires up the back that make them sit up straight. Her face was all frozen and expressionless as she spoke earnestly about her role as the alpha female of Hef's harem. (I think that's what she was talking about. I was too distracted by her weird botulistic face to pay much attention to what she was saying).
  • The clip they showed from an episode of TGND, where one of the younger girlfriends was wigging out because she had a Playboy photo shoot scheduled at the same time as one of her finals (she was a college student, apparently). The girl was seriously losing her shit over this and ended up all huddled up in a fetal position on the stairs of the Playboy mansion because she was afraid of missing this "big opportunity" (the photo shoot) because of her final exam. I was thinking, honey--you're Hef's girlfriend. It's not like you can't pull some strings (gross!) and get the photo shoot rescheduled. Not exactly a Rhodes Scholar, that one....
  • There was a shocking revelation (made by the alpha Pam Anderson girlfriend, I think), that some of Hef's past girlfriends have been (gasp!) "gold diggers," and she is relieved that they are now gone. Yeah. Like her silliconed tits and ass would be humping all over that 80-year-old man if he were just your average Joe Shmoe in the street (or in the nursing home, in this case). Riiiiiight. Tell me another one, Botox Girl.
  • There was an interview with one of Hef's kids, who looked to be about 14 or 15 years old. He was saying that although he has "other goals," his big dream is to one day take over Dad's business and to help run the Playboy Empire. Um, kid? You're Hef's son. Isn't it pretty much a given that you'll be running things when the old man finally kicks off? It's not like a big fantastic pie-in-the-sky dream or anything. Either that kid is stunningly un-ambitious, or dumb as a chimp. I can't decide which.
  • The end of the show featured a parade of bimbos vouching for Hef's sexual prowess, lest any of us think the man is all talk, no cock. And seriously? I could have happily lived out the rest of my days on God's green earth without knowing about that, thank you. The capper was an interview with the real Pamela Anderson, who relayed a story about being at a Playboy Mansion party and walking in on Hef and a half-dozen of his sluts du jour going at it on his gigantic bed. She actually looked pretty shell-shocked (I mean, more than usual) as she described how she was just transfixed by the whole scene, and suddenly she felt she was being "sucked" closer and closer to the bed. ("Sucked"? Whoa, I really don't want to know anything about that). She claims she ended up "freaking out" and running from the room, (which, if that's really what happened she has more sense than I would have thought). Then she had to go and gross me out all over again by declaring that she "loves" Hef and intends to have sex with him on his 90th birthday to prove it.

And that's when I "freaked out" and ran out of the room to go scrub myself with anti-bacterial soap. Ugh.

Monday, May 22, 2006

I am severely addicted to the following songs:
Duran Duran - White Lines
From their unfairly panned 1995 release, Thank You, which rocks--and I'm not just saying that because it's Duran Duran (contrary to popular belief, there are a few D2 efforts foul enough to make even the most steadfast Duranie cringe, to wit: Liberty, Pop Trash, and Amanda de Cadenet). But that's part of the band's charm, IMHO. They've been good, they've been bad, but (more often than not) the've been unbelievably fucking awesome. This song? A shining example of their awesomeness. And yes, I am fully aware that it is a remake (it's a tribute album, duh) and Grandmaster Flash did the original, but really--after hearing this? No need at all for the original. I propose that we declare this one the "original," if that's what makes the snotty musical purists happy. Actually, on second thought? Fuck the snotty musical purists! I have no need for them, either. This song is the shit. End of story.
Rod Stewart - What Am I Gonna Do (I'm So In Love With You)
The bouncy synth beat, the faux-Jamaican stylings, the sweet, dorky lyrics ("You're like rock n' roll and champagne, all in one...")--this song truly does it for me. And while most would argue that it's not Rod's best work (of course it isn't!), I hold it up as further evidence that this man can take any musical genre and work the hell out of it. You like country? I give you What Made Milwaukee Famous and Mandolin Wind. You like rock? Here's Stay With Me and Every Picture Tells A Story. Folk? Take Gasoline Alley and Mama, You've Been On My Mind. Disco? Yup, Passion and Do Ya Think I'm Sexy. Synth pop? Hell yeah, there's Baby Jane and Young Turks. Old standards? His current release is (if I'm not mistaken) The Great American Songbook, Volume IV. Rod is the Lizard King. He can do anything.
The Sounds - Much Too Long
I can't get enough of this one! Luvs the chimey piano, the whizzy guitars, and the chick rawker vocalist. I only recently discovered this band, but this song alone makes me want to hunt down everything they've ever recorded (two albums, apparently).

Thursday, May 18, 2006


Ahhh, much easier on the eyes, no? No interactive post, no snarking required. Just sit back and enjoy the pretty. *swoon*

Thursday, May 04, 2006

My latest obsession...

This week I discovered (on the advice of good friend Ian Shane) the music site pandora, and I am now ridiculously, shamelessly, hopelessly addicted. It's one of those "create your own radio station" sites and it fucking rocks. It's also my new favorite time waster at work...I've been rediscovering bands and musicians that I haven't listened to in years (Japan, Missing Persons, Erasure, Berlin) and--even better--I have discovered so many new and obscure artists I'd never heard of before and likely wouldn't have found on my own. A lot of these bands have the most awesome-est, trippiest names ever: We Are Scientists, The Weather Machines, Vanishing Kids, The Ladybug Transistors, No Wait Wait, Manda and the Marbles, and--my absolute favorite--I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness (yes, that's an actual band name). Check out my "favorites" page if you like (it's already 4 pages long!) at And feel free to make fun of my list, I am fully aware that my taste in music tends towards the eclectic; some of my entries are The Cure, David Bowie, Depeche Mode....and Andy Gibb. You may also scoff at selections like "Push the Button" by Sugababes (a song that practically drives me insane, I love it so much! Can't help it, I'm a sucker for catchy New Wave-ish Britpop). And there is one song that absolutely defies description, in fact I saved it to my favorites largely because it is so bizarre and goofy and it totally cracks me up, a song titled (no joke) "Elf Call" by an outfit going by the name of Steel Eye Span and Maddy Prior (I don't know). Check out the sample, it is a total riot! Their sound is difficult to describe, sort of a cross between Bjork and Smashmouth on some serious acid. Truly weird.

My only real issue with pandora is the songs it occasionally tries to sneak in on the radio stations I've created. They generally do a good job of sizing up your musical tastes and throwing out stuff that is similar, but at times its random choices are so off-the-wall and wrong that it's downright annoying. For instance: I ask for Kim Wilde, I get Samantha Fox. Not the same thing. Okay, maybe a little, but not really. Also, on my Go-Go's station it keeps trying to throw me shite like Celine Dion (UGH!) and Barbra Streisand, no matter how many times I hit the "don't like!" button when that crap pops up. It's as if they think, "Okay, famale artists: here's Blondie, Joan Jett, and, uhhhhh, oh hell, why not--Amy Grant! She's a chick, too. Enjoy!" And today it did the unforgivable...on my Disco Glam station it tried to foist some pukey song by The American Idol Season 4 "Runners Up" (read: rejects). If there was a gun nearby I would have pulled an Elvis and blown a hole through my damn computer monitor. (Good thing I didn't have any firearms handy, I probably would have gotten my ass fired for that one).

Anyway, check out pandora. Especially my list, because it rocks.