Tuesday, November 27, 2007

I am pretty good at picking out Christmas presents for other people, but when friends and family ask me what I'd like for Christmas (or my birthday, Arbor Day, Kwanzaa, whatever) I always draw a blank. What the hell do I want? Today, it finally came to me. Friends and relations, if you are looking for the perfect Christmas gift, look no further than this tasty bit of British eye candy (and enjoy some comedy while you're at it):



Ah, Jude. I never tire of gazing upon his fair visage.

Shut up. This is my Christmas wish list, not yours. And it isn't even a list--just one item, for Christ's sake--so that should make it easier for everyone. It's actually pretty simple. Jaunt on over to the U.K., yank Jude out from under Sienna Miller, or his kid's nanny, or Matt Damon, or whatever bit of crumpet he's currently sticking it in, stuff him in a box (don't forget to poke air holes in it! The box...not Jude), and ship him over to me. Don't worry about Next Day Air or whatever, Standard is fine. I can wait.

C'mon, pleeeeease???? I promise to feed him and to walk him every day and clean up his messes and keep him off the furniture.

Please?

And don't tell me to ask Santa. I know the fat bastard doesn't even exist.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

YOU PINEAPPLE! YOU FUZZY COOTIE!

The State was the funniest American comedy show ever produced. It was fucking brilliant. I am mystified that this show is not out on DVD. (It was supposed to be released in October, but Paramount has pushed the release date back indefinitely, for no particular reason other than the fact that they're complete assholes). And yet Saturday Night Live continues to shit out their "Best of" crapola, now featuring actors that weren't even cast members (The Best of Alec Baldwin? WTF? Who went and started the rumor that he was even funny?) Thankfully, I've been able to find a few State clips on YouTube. This one--"Tenement"--is one of my favorites. Watch, enjoy, and pass it on. We must spread the holy gospel of The State, my children.

Saturday, November 03, 2007

Two posts in the same day??

This is what happens when I'm bored at work. I thought of a list:

Songs that I never want to hear again, ever (but probably fucking will...)

1. Brown-Eyed Girl by Van Morrison

Enough already. I'm sick of this song, and it sucks that I seem to be the only one who's sick of it. I can't go into a bar without hearing it. And I mean any bar, anytime, anywhere. And if you pay attention, the lyrics are sickeningly cloying and a little creepy. (Again, am I the only one who realizes this? Apparently so.) Another sucky thing is that I can't hear it without thinking of that Julia Roberts movie Sleeping With the Enemy, because of the scene where she tries on hats with her new (gay) boyfriend and they dance around to this song. And yeah, the boyfriend in that movie is totally gay. Come on. Julia's character is married to that psychotic guy with the moustache who beats her like a circus monkey when she forgets to arrange the Jolly Green Giant canned peas in the cabinets with the labels facing front, the way he likes them. So she escapes to Iowa and meets this bearded guy who teaches drama at the local liberal arts college (red flag right there--or should I say pink flag?) who is watering his lawn and singing that "When You're a Jet" song from West Side Story (huge pink flag!) when she first meets him. And if that isn't enough, there is that scene where he makes her try on hats (GIANT pink flag) and if THAT isn't enough, there is a scene later on where he dresses her like a guy (GIANT sparkly pink flag, waved by Libarace's ghost). I rest my case. What was I talking about again? Oh yeah, that shitty Van Morrison song. Anyway, it sucks.

2. Love Shack by the B-52's

I like the B-52's, especially their first album. Dance This Mess Around? Awesome. Planet Claire? So fucking cool. Even their later stuff rocks. But this is their lamest song off of their only lame album, and of course, it's the only one of their songs that everyone seems to know, and (again) that everyone seems to like. This song has been played at every wedding reception I've attended since 1990. And, since I'm a single thirtysomething female, let's just say that's A LOT of fucking wedding receptions. I've had it. Play anything else. I'd even be willing to take Rock Lobster, their other overrated (though not nearly as over-played) song. And for my remaining single friends? Please, when and if you get married, I beg of you, DO NOT play this song at the reception. Let's start a new tradition: no fucking Love Shack.

3. Kiss by Prince

Man, do I hate this song. It sucks so hard, it blows. Prince--dude--what was with that stupid falsetto? To my recollection, it was the only time he busted it out. (Oh wait, there was that song, "Wanna Be Your Lover" which sucked almost as hard). And that video, with that outfit he was wearing. You remember, that gay Mexican bandit ensemble with the exposed midriff that looked like something Madonna rejected during her "Who's That Girl?" period. And the lyrics! "You don't have to watch Dynasty to have an attitude." What the hell does that even mean? The only people I knew who watched Dynasty were my friend Amanda's parents, and they didn't have "attitude," at least not the kind Prince was probably singing about. It is an eerie coincidence that this song was also prominently featured in Pretty Woman, another crappy Julia Roberts movie. Between that and Sleeping With the Enemy, it's hard to say which one is the crappier film. Let's just say that if Sleeping With the Enemy is the Vice President of crappy Julia Roberts movies, then Pretty Woman is the President. And I'll leave it at that.

4. Mickey by Toni Basil

I remember first hearing this song in 1982, and it sucked then. You know what really sucks? Hearing it in 2007, especially when it's grouped with other songs from that era--good songs like Tainted Love and Turning Japanese--in every damn Best of the Eighties CD compilation. Not that I (cough) would ever own anything as tacky as a Best of the Eighties CD compilation.

5. Walk Like An Egyptian by the Bangles

Did anyone actually like this song? It was like the worst of the worst of that era--a total rip-off of the Go-Go's We Got the Beat by a band that shot their wad with their first album and Going Down To Liverpool. Then Prince got a tiny boner for the lead singer, wrote Manic Monday for her, and it was all downhill from there. And by the way, the Go-Go's wrote their own songs. I'm just saying.

6. Everybody Have Fun Tonight by Wang Chung

Another example of a decent band who will only be remembered by the general public for the worst song they ever recorded. Remember Dance Hall Days? And To Live and Die in LA? Neither does anybody else, and those were good songs. It's tragic, really.

7. Brick House by The Commodores

Ever hear that saying "stacked like a brick shithouse?" It's a southern expression, used to describe a woman who is, well, stacked like a brick shithouse (I'm assuming that the south is the only place you can still see a brick shithouse. Well, the south and Khazakstan). Yes kids, a brick shithouse. Except they couldn't say "shithouse" on the radio in 1975, or whenever that song was recorded so they said "brick house." This is another one of those ditties played ad infinitum at wedding receptions, because nothing says everlasting love like a song about some chick stacked like "a brick (shit)house." How incredibly romantic.
When I sit around the house, I really sit around the house...

There's a photo of me in the current issue of CityPages. I look ugly, old and FAT. Tomorrow I am joining a yoga class and then buying one of those thingies to make my bike stationary so that this winter I will be able to pedal my ass down to a more managable size, cause this SUCKS. I am tired of being fat. I'm not obese, but I'd like my fucking jeans to fit again without my love handles/blubber hanging out for all the world to see. I know now that I will never get pregnant, because, (sorry to sound vain here....) (actually, no--I'm not sorry)--I NEVER want to be bigger than I am now. If I ever feel the need to swim upstream and spawn, I will do an Angelina Jolie and adopt a brat from some third world nation. Then I'll look like a saint AND be able to avoid wearing those ugly maternity outfits. My apologies to any and all men chomping at the bit to impregnate me. Guess you'll have to plant your seed somewhere else.