Saturday, October 27, 2007

Recap: Sea Hag Loves New York 2 (Episode 3)

To start off this episode, The Doosh tries, unsuccessfully, to start some shit with The Entertainer involving Midget Mac. I don't understand the whole 'I'm going to make myself look better by making everyone else look like shitheads" mentality, and clearly The Doosh doesn't either. He isn't smart enough to do it right, everyone in the house could easily kick his ass up and down the street and he picks the wrong people to mess with, like The Entertainer, who does not attend The School Of Laying Down And Sucking Shit For The Sake Of Being Nice. I'm beginning to like him more, in spite of his lumpy head.

Ass Biscuit and The Doosh are singled out by Buddha and the other guys as People Who Are Oxygen Thieves and they decide to prank them. They set up a fake challenge at 1 a.m. that says that the last guy who remains standing outside gets to have breakfast with New York when she gets up. So all of the guys play along with it and get dressed up and stand outside by the pool. And stand there. And stand there. And stand there, until the sun comes up and New York comes out to smoke her morning cigarette and tells Ass Biscuit and The Doosh, the last two left standing, that they got their asses good and punked. It was great for two reasons: it was a clever prank and my hatred for The Doosh and Ass Biscuit has been validated. Buddha for president!

Another classy morning in Flavor Country.

There was a challenge later with the guys being split into 4 groups to pitch ideas to expand on the New York Empire. Isn't New York already the Empire State? That is kind of confusing. Anyway, it's all pretty stupid, one team decides to promote a New York iPod, one does a New York perfume (when someone asks them what it would smell like, I almost hemmoraged from laughing at the possiblities for that one. Menthol? Weave Glue? Does the end of your fifteen minutes of fame have a fragrance?), one does a New York clothing line and the last one wants to do a Blaxploitation film called "B.A.B." (that's Bas Ass Bitch, for those of you not paying attention at home) starring New York as "N.Y. Tiffahontas." Awesome.

Of course, the Tiffahontas group is composed of my favorites: Cheezy, Ass Biscuit and The Doosh, and they win. The prize? Two dates with New York, one being a solo date for the person who contributed the most to the project, and a group date for the other two. New York decides that The Doosh will get the solo date, much to Cheezy's whiny dismay as he pretty much came up with the entire idea and The Doosh merely presented it in using his best I'm Selling Time Share Condos pitch. They both tattle to New York and she picks The Doosh because he's "the one I want to fuck." This is why I enjoy her so much.

Nothing says lovin' like stainless steel.

So they go on their date and New York gives The Doosh this necklace that looks like she broke the handle off my grandmother's gravy ladle. The next day Ass Biscuit and Whine 'N' Cheezy go and have sexy pictures taken with New York. Ass Biscuit keeps licking everything with his mucus tongue.


When New York comes back to the mansion, she finds that The Entertainer has a bubble bath going for her, so she gets in with him and he starts sucking New York's hammer toes. I would like to take a moment to thank them both for keeping their clothes on in the tub, though I must admit The Entertainer has a pretty nice body. Then The Doosh comes in and busts up the party by being, well, himself.

Nom nom nom.

Eliminations come around. Whine 'N' Cheezy and Man Man get kicked off. I'm not sad to see either go. Since The Doosh and Ass Biscuit take up so much of my recap (and my undying hatred) I guess I should go ahead and mention all the guys who are left in the house right now:

20 Pack
The Entertainer
Midget Mac
Mr. Wise
Ass Biscuit
The Doosh

Next week: The Doosh gets picked on more. I weep with pleasure.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

International ______ Day!

I got to do another International Day today. Go look. Go on, I'll wait for you right here.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

We Can't Stop Here, This is Cat Country!

There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible than a dog in the depths of a kibble binge.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Recap: Sea Hag Loves New York (Episode 2)

So I missed the first 20 minutes of the show and that pisses me off, but not enough to go scour the Internet to find it. Apparently they had some kind of competition or something. I'm sure there were plenty of laughs and New York was a mega bitch.

Midget Mac!

So the winners of this thing were Midget Mac, Buddha (who is a gorgeous man) and The Doosh. Midget Mac (who I still think needs his own show) got some alone time with New York and they bonded over ranch dressing. Buddha and The Doosh had to share a date at the go-kart track where The Doosh continued to live up to his name by whining that Buddha wrecked him into the wall and admitting that he was going through a divorce so he still technically had a wife. Now, I do have to give him credit for having the nuts to admit that right off the bat but... yeah. Still married. Nice one there, Doosh.

Here's The Doosh being all 'Silence Of The Lambs' and shit.

Before the date The Doosh arranged to have flowers delivered to the mansion, which would be sweet if he hadn't pretty much admitted that it was all part of his Master Doosh Plan to manipulate New York. I swear this guy sells used cars for a living. Unfortunately for him, It answered the door and proceeded to take credit for the flowers himself. I'd like to take a moment now to tell you how much I hate It, so much so that I have decided to rename him Ass Biscuit. Why do I hate him? For one thing, he mumbles. He's also a moron. Separate, those things aren't that big of a deal, but together the form an unholy alliance of suckitude. For instance, when asked point-blank if he did, in fact, buy the flowers for New York or if he swiped them, he said "mumble mumble mmmmm you know boom boom bam bam boom mmmmm mumbles Lawrence Fishburn mumble mmmm mum." The best lie he could come up with was that Lawrence Fishburn must have sent the flowers to the house for Ass Biscuit. Wow. The problem is he's not stupid enough to be entertaining and his mouth-full-o'-marbles voice is just incredibly, horribly irritating to me. I hope he leaves soon, even before The Doosh.

Here's Ass Biscuit, formerly known as It. This is one of the smarter faces he makes.

Let's see... what else happened? Oh, Unsure decided to leave the house because... I don't know, he's retarded or something. I mean, he was upset because another guy ratted him out and he didn't like living in a house of people he wasn't friends with. News flash, honey: it's a COMPETITION. Your goal was to stay on the program long enough for people to get to know who you are, then when you leave people pay you like $5,000 to do appearances at their parties. Uh... I mean, stay on the show to find true love with New York. It was probably best that he left when he did because he has a face that's just begging for a beating.

Seriously, how can you look at this guy and not want to stomp on his nads for a while?

In the end, three guys left: Unsure, some guy who "looked like a pinto bean with eyes" , and some other guy who had a damn temper tantrum. It was pretty funny. So now it's down to 12 guys.

Here's a picture of Buddha. You're welcome.

Sea Hag Prophecies:
1. Buddha will make it to the final 3.
2. Midget Mac will be in the top 10.
3. The Doosh will be in the top 5.
4. Ass Biscuit will be around a lot longer than I want him to be.
5. I will pray for many ass whippings.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Speaking of Ryan Adams...

I wrote a story that was inspired by the song 'Dear Chicago'. The lyrics are at the top in purple.

Dear Chicago,
You'll never guess.
You know the girl you said I'd meet someday?

Well, I've got something to confess.
She picked me up on Friday.
Asked me if she reminded me of you.
I just laughed and lit a cigarette,
Said, "That's impossible to do. "
My life's gotten simple since.
And it fluctuates so much.
Happy and sad and back again,
I'm not crying out too much.
Think about you all the time.
It's strange and hard to deal.
Think about you lying there.
And those blankets lie so still.
Nothing breathes here in the cold.
Nothing moves or even smiles.
I've been thinking some of suicide.
But there's bars out here for miles.
Sorry about the every kiss.
Every kiss you wasted bad.
I think the thing you said was true;
I'm going to die alone and sad.
The wind's feeling real these days.
Yeah, baby, it hurts me some.
Never thought I'd feel so blue.
New York City, you're almost gone.
I think that I've fallen out of love;
I think I've fallen out of love...with you

New York City,
You're Almost Gone

On the morning of her wedding, Erin sat on a cement bench in the church courtyard and watched the smoke from the tip of her cigarette melt into the January sky.

The courtyard had been constructed from the awkward patch of grass that ran between the chapel and the annex building that housed the Sunday school and kindergarten classes. A fountain with a tiptoeing cherub stood at the far end, its basin clogged with flaking dead leaves. For three years Mrs. Janine 'Janey' Baxter (the head of the Ladies With Christian Morals League and co-chair of the Think of the Children Annual Bake Sale) had a vision of a glorious, rioting flower garden blooming against the chapel wall but the narrow courtyard let in little sunlight and the roses and pansies and daffodils rotted in the damp soil. Now the only thing in the flowerbeds were wet cigarette butts from nervous smokers who weren't brave enough to stand on the front steps and fend off any panhandlers who might walk by. The concrete bench, with its richly entertaining graffiti, was pushed against the annex building wall and faced the splotchy brick side of the chapel and the ashtray flowerbed. However, if seated correctly, like Erin was, the bench also provided a partial view of the sidewalk through the cast-iron gate that capped off the end of the courtyard.

A Snickers wrapper from the vending machine in the dim annex basement brushed against Erin's ankle, bare in spite of the weather. The tiny alcove where her bridesmaids were busily curling their hair and stepping into their fluffy gowns had been stifling and Erin was desperate to get away from the heat and her fiancĂ©’s pouting niece; the girl hated her dove-gray bridesmaid dress and that her daily dramas were not being attended to. Smoking a cigarette was the only thing that would guarantee that any well-meaning person would leave her alone for five minutes. The fact that Erin didn't normally smoke went unremarked by anyone in the bridal party; they were all Brandon's family and had only just met her a few days ago. Erin hoped that going outside in just her lacy underthings and her father's huge wool overcoat would be attributed to wedding day jitters by her future in-laws. Or maybe they would think she was plain old crazy. Either way suited her just as well.

Erin took a shallow drag off of the cigarette and continued to watch the sidewalk, but it was still too early in the day for any guests to arrive at the church. She flicked the glowing tip against the bench, letting the spent ashes float away in the winter wind. She felt her own heat radiate towards her face from inside the collar of her father's coat and wondered if she could bum another cigarette from the janitor, or if she could dare walk down to the gas station to buy a pack of her own.

At that very moment a young man, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his dark jacket, turned the corner and began to walk in front of the church. As he came to the cast iron gate to the courtyard the familiar smell of burning tobacco and damp winter air engulfed him, making him think of the Christmas he spent at his grandfather's cabin when he was six years old, watching the old man whittle a toy train out of a hunk of blond wood with a Pall Mall dangling from his lower lip. As he broke his hypnotic gaze with the sidewalk to look for the source of the cigarette smell his eyes caught Erin's through the iron bars.

With that dark, careful glance Erin was suddenly in New York City six years ago, standing at the center of the world with her lover and the hot red glow of pulsing neon. They reached for each other's hands. It was ten o'clock at night. Steam gushed from the yellow lip of the Ramen Cup O' Noodles that crowned Times Square. Children poured in and out of Toys 'R' Us with faces bubble-gum pink. Taxis. Starbucks jammed full. Mediocre chain restaurants with bright white signs pouring over the sidewalk. A bus passed them; the sour smell of underground subways followed it. A girl in a purple tank top stood underneath the MTV Studios with a hand-lettered sign in Japanese; a shadow passed in front of one of the windows and she bounced on her platform shoes. Twin girls in matching green sweaters ate greasy french fries out of a McDonald's bag that their mother held down to them. Someone honked a horn at a tourist taking pictures in the middle of the crosswalk. Another horn answered four blocks over, and another. A drag queen brushed past, talking in Portuguese on a sleek cell phone, her accent and walk like warm marmalade. Erin reached out with her other hand and grabbed her lover's arm, wanting to keep him in this exact spot for as long as she could, within the buzzing heart of everything she'd ever seen and smelled and heard and touched in her life.

From the deep tunnel of the past Erin could see herself so clearly, standing in the swirl of Times Square, the saturation of that day spreading into the next and next, across the trip back home and the next year they were together. That lonely year: the time she threw a coffee cup at his head, the move across town, bronchitis, the stray cat, pawnshops, temp agencies, cold floorboards, too many funerals to count. New York City fading across the end of that relationship and the last time she felt his hummingbird heart against her chest; finally gone now, on this very day as she sat on the concrete bench with a smoldering cigarette pinched between her knuckles, two years of sobriety done and his final curse of loneliness on her head.

The young man's eyes remained locked on Erin's while his left foot struck the sidewalk in front of the cast iron gate, rightleftright and with a short nod he was gone, leaving her alone in the courtyard perched like a strange bird in an oversized charcoal coat, her hair pinned up in curls and baby's breath, her fingertips twitched towards his retreating, slouching back. She sighed, watching the cigarette burn down to the filter and slowly stood up. She flicked the butt into the Marlboro-studded flowerbed and walked inside.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Hot date tonight!

Here's the stud muffin I'm gonna hang out with tonight... and if I'm lucky, tomorrow morning. Mwah ha ha! Don't wait up for me!

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Recap: Sea Hag Loves New York (Episode 1)

See how I told you a few days ago that I would try to do a weekly recap of 'I Love New York 2'? Seriously, it's down there, right below this post. See it? OK. Told you so.

I guess I should explain this show first to the uninitiated. OK, a few years ago there was a reality show called 'The Surreal Life' which had washed-up and B-list actors, singers, models, porn stars, athletes and whoever else just finished their 15 minutes of fame competing for... money? A house? Candy? I don't remember, but it's not important. The whole show was just watching people with disproportionately huge egos learn about life and love. (Not really, all they did was bitch at each other and it was funny.) Anyway, one season they had Flavor Flav of Public Enemy and Brigette Nielson who was in some '80s movies (and is Sylvester Stalone's ex-wife), as two of the contestants. They wound up getting into some sort of... oh, let's call it a relationship, and they got their own spin-off show called 'Strange Love' which I've never seen but I'm sure was full of good times and noodle salad.

Anyway, their relationship didn't work out so VH1 had Flav do a show called 'Flavor of Love' which was a dating show where 20 women competed against each other to date Flavor Flav. The final two contestants were a girl called Hoopz and also New York, who had made a name for herself by being the biggest, nuttier-than-a-Claxton-fruitcake bitch possible. New York lost, but Flavor Flav wound up doing a second 'Flavor of Love' show and somehow New York got put back in the mix... where she made it to the final two contestants... where she lost yet again. So they gave her her own show called 'I Love New York' where her final two guys were a punk-ass named Chance and much more mature Tango (who was also known as Ninja Turtle). She chose Tango, who promptly dumped her ass at the reunion show. Which brings us to 'I Love New York 2', a spin-off of a spin-off of a spin-off. Also, this time around, the 'twist' with the contestants was that five of them were chosen online by fans (and by 'fans' I mean it was totally rigged). Then New York's mom Sister Patterson (a.k.a. Darth Vader) brought five of her own guys in the mix, and the other ten were picked from auditions. And know you know... the rest of the back story. Good day!

Anyway, as with any reality show, the first episode or two isn't great because there are too many people involved and you haven't established favorites yet. I could go and detail what happened but it would be hella boring. Basically all the guys showed up at the mansion and they got their nicknames and they had a party and New York kicked five off the show at the end. The highlights of Episode One were:

Oh my God boobs!

1. New York's boobs
New York was wearing an outfit that was an unholy love child of a ice skater's outfit and a stripper costume, with the resulting effect of her huge fake tits gushing out of the top. Seriously, she needs to have those puppies registered as some sort of weapon because she was about to smother everyone in a 2-mile radius with her mighty cleavage.

2. Midget Mac
Yeah, they got a midget to be a contestant. When they've finished ringing out the entertainment value from him I hope they give him his own show because he actually stared down Sister Patterson instead of being scared of her like everyone else is. That would be tight. New York at one point wondered if he had "magical leprechaun powers."

3. Tailor Made
This was one of Sister Patterson's guys, and he was such a slimy douchebag that I shall refer to him evermore as The Doosh. New York said he "looked like a crooked bookie." The teaser for next week shows another guy slamming his head into a wall so hard his skull bounces. Score!

Behold and fear the glory that is The Entertainer's lumpy head. Fear it!

4. The Entertainer
Unfortunately, all of the guys who were 'voted' onto the show by the fans were really weird and ugly and a bunch of them got the boot in the first show. The Entertainer, who got to stay because he was the top fan choice, had a lumpy knot thing on his forehead and was pegged as a freak by Sister Patterson.

Friday, October 05, 2007

Things I'm Embarrassed To Like: VH1 Reality Shows

A few nights ago I caught the final episode of the 'Rock Of Love' reality show with Bret Michaels (of Poison) settling on mellow Jes over party-girl Heather. It wasn't a bad show, really, I watched the last half of the series and was reasonably entertained, but in comparison to the other VH1 reality shows 'Flavor or Love' and 'I Love New York', it was pretty weak.

I think most of the reason why it wasn't as good as the other ones was because Bret Michaels isn't a total character like Flavor Flav or New York (a.k.a. Tiffany Pollard). Back in the day I'm sure that Bret could've made for some totally wild-ass partying drama, but now he's a diabetic semi-washed-up rocker and, based on his choosing the much-quieter Jes over Stripper Barbie Heather, I'm guessing he knows his partying days are behind him and he wants someone who isn't going to need to bailed out of jail for indecent exposure and public drunkenness. Don't get me wrong, I actually thought Heather would have been a good choice for him because she... well... has a few miles on her, to put it mildly, and she had his named tattooed on her neck, but Jes has awesome Jem and the Holograms hair which would have made her my top choice too. Bret did seem like a cool cat, except he had the habit of mentioning that he wrote 'Every Rose Has Its Thorn' like every single episode. It is a great song, possibly the best rock ballad to come out of the 80's, but dude, get over it, it was like 20 years ago. Live in the now! Plus, watching people who are cool and laid-back trying to date other people who are cool and laid-back is pretty boring after a while. I can watch the same kind of drama amongst my co-workers and there's not nearly as many commercials involved.

See what I mean? How could Jes not be picked, she is truly truly truly outrageous!

Now 'Flavor of Love', that's where it's at. Flavor Flav may be pushing 50 and so partied out that he looks like a leathery stick of beef jerky with gold teeth, but damn it if he isn't fun to watch. I mean, he wears a viking helmet and punctuates his serious discussions with "word" (which has since made into the Sea Hag lexicon). He has a giant metal dinosaur on his front lawn that wears a clock around its neck. It's a hot mess; what's not to like? I also think they did a better job of casting Flav's shows (and the 'I Love New York' spinoffs) with people who could generate controversy and drama without making it seem as staged as I'm sure it really is. I mean, both 'Flavor Of Love' shows had New York in them, and she was so infamous that they gave her two shows of her own. She was emotional and a total bitch, cunning and manipulative, but I have to respect someone who knows she's a complete hose beast and refuses to change for anyone. The only real 'troublemaker' in 'Rock Of Love' was Lacey, and she was a bitch too, but she just came off as a psychotic tattletale and lacked the fine scoundrel's heart New York has.

Fortunately for me the next season of 'I Love New York 2' starts Monday and it will be a radical empire to all which is radical. I am going to attempt to do an ongoing blog entry after each episode but we'll see how that goes.

Monday, October 01, 2007

I Hate Everyone: People In Commercials

So I was over on The Slate a few weeks ago reading the Ad Report Card and the guy who normally writes it is going on some sabbatical bullshit and I'm all upset about it because I have a total crush on him. I mean, he's such a funny, smart-ass writer that I'd totally sit on his face and I don't even know what the guy looks like, so that's how awesome he is.

Anyway, his parting article was a short collection of ads people hate. It was OK, but it made me think of the time in my high school English class my junior year when my teacher announced that she wished that she could put The Wolfman and Donna (two local people who sold furniture and did totally lame commercials for it) into a box and fly them into the center of the sun. So in honor of Mrs. Federovich and Seth Stevenson, I compiled my own list of People in Commercials Who I Wish I Could Put In A Box And Fly Into The Center Of The Sun:

1. The couple from the Sonic commercials
Sweet grape cream slush, if this is what marriage is like I'd rather try to beat myself to death with a New Balance sneaker. These ads show a couple who are sitting in the Sonic drive-in enjoying whatever the frosty drink special of the month is while they barely contain their contempt for each other. The wife is a stuck-up bitch and the husband is a total asstard, and therein lies the hilarity, I guess. I mean, the woman married the guy, how did she not realize the guy was an immature idiot? And what does she have to bitch about anyway, the guy takes her to Sonic all the time! How can anyone be pissy at a Sonic drive-thru? This one time they gave away FREE root beer floats! A girl who has this big tray of condiments walks around to all the cars and asks if you want more ketchup! There are few things more awesome than that.

2. The chorus from the Rondo commercials
First of all, Kias are just one step up from a roller skate. Second of all, 'Rondoism' is a totally stupid made-up word. Third, the people are singing around San Francisco and everyone knows that they only drive Toyota Priuses there. But most importantly, these people need to be destroyed because they're so damn loud: LET THE SUN SHINE IN! LEEEET THE SUN SHINE IN! THE SUUUUUN SHINE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!

3. The 'Messin' With Sasquatch' guys
The theme of these commercials seems to be that if you eat Jack Links Beef Jerky you are a complete dickhead. And yes I know that Big Foot isn't real and it's just a guy in a suit that they're pulling pranks on, but it's comes across as being really mean-spirited and douche-y.

4. The guys dressed up like Whoppers on the Burger King commercials
First of all, these commercials are just plain stupid, and the latest one shows the Dad Whopper busting in on a Chicken Sandwich kid making out with his daughter, and he can't get through the bedroom door to kick the Chicken Sandwich kid's buns (heh). Um, why isn't his daughter a Burger King food product? And how did he get into the front door but not the bedroom door? Why did he buy a house that he couldn't fit through the doors anyway?

5. The Berries & Creme Starburst guy
This guy is just... so, so wrong. So very creepy. I get 'The Uh-oh Feeling' every time I see this commercial. Plus his irises have no color, so that's proof that he's the undead.