tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-206396492024-03-23T14:05:39.331-04:00Stupid & ContagiousPop culture, pop vultures and other frivolity—intensely stupid and insanely contagious—with your host, RockitQueen.RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.comBlogger329125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-51150994276917812272020-08-15T23:06:00.000-04:002020-08-15T23:06:13.815-04:00Quarentine confessions<p><span class="oi732d6d ik7dh3pa d2edcug0 qv66sw1b c1et5uql a8c37x1j irj2b8pg enqfppq2 jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id" dir="auto">I
was in love with Michael Hutchence in fifth grade and got in trouble for
ripping a picture of him out of an issue of US Magazine I found in the
ladies' lounge at the YMCA. In the picture, he was leaning against a
wall with his arms crossed and wearing only a towel. I'm not sure if I
was in more trouble over vandalizing the magazine or the fact that the
picture was of a shirtless hunk of man meat. I still feel this was my
coolest fifth-grade moment.</span></p>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-21787989932006711992013-07-16T23:27:00.003-04:002013-07-16T23:29:15.429-04:00BREAKING NEWS: You can take the Count out of the can...<h1 class="entry-title">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">From <a href="http://www.newsinenglish.no/2013/07/16/black-metal-extremist-reportedly-arrested-for-planning-a-massacre/" target="_blank">News in English:</a></span></span></span></h1>
<h1 class="entry-title">
<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Black metal, right-wing extremist arrested for planning terrorist attack</span></span></span></i></h1>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The French government confirmed on Tuesday that
Kristian “Varg” Vikernes, the Norwegian black metal musician and
right-wing extremist who’s been convicted of both murder and setting
fire to churches, was arrested in France on Tuesday. He’s charged with
planning a major terrorist attack, just a week before the second
anniversary of the attacks carried out by another right-wing extremist
in Norway.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Important commentary on this startling event coming up next on...Stupid & Contagious. </span></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-3720244314667859212013-01-04T23:35:00.000-05:002013-01-06T16:28:27.214-05:00CoTher 2.4-5: Gutterballs<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0VAM4tevqnejZ_zuBO9TTGysJV9C3ItSLIbcnoQQKVS927H2a8s5byuq-nMUn61x5ij8a6Yv3dzIIyzxDW5Yj9maH4ZScpmJGJrnjufHBKXcoBb57q6WBpJdyKt0a98Jo-9lkg/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-01-04+at+8.46.20+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0VAM4tevqnejZ_zuBO9TTGysJV9C3ItSLIbcnoQQKVS927H2a8s5byuq-nMUn61x5ij8a6Yv3dzIIyzxDW5Yj9maH4ZScpmJGJrnjufHBKXcoBb57q6WBpJdyKt0a98Jo-9lkg/s320/Screen+shot+2013-01-04+at+8.46.20+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">She rolls on shomer Shabbos.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yeah, yeah, I'm way behind. Leave me alone. I was busy keeping the X in Xmas. Happy new year, bee tee dubs!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyhoo, let's kick 2013 off right and get caught up on some "Couples Therapy" action! I'm going to count down t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">he best parts of eps 4 and 5. You can thank me later:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>1. Doug can't do partner yoga, cries and locks himself in the bathroom</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In an effort to help the couples feel "connected," the therapists organize a morning partner yoga session for the gang. But one partner is conspicuously missing because of those pesky California child labor laws.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Doug half-heartedly attempts to do the yoga himself while everyone else is sitting back-to-back with their sweeties to "feel their warmth and their spine." Dammit! Doug is not feeling any warmth or spines so he untwists himself from Warrior 1 and stomps, pouting, into the house. "I can't be with her at night and I've reached my threshold," he cries. I'm guessing he then screams, "</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">NOBODY UNDERSTANDS OUR LOVE!"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> and flails down the hall wailing and dramatically slams the bathroom door shut so he can privately sulk about his inability to participate in yoga.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Hater Shayne seems to think the problem isn't that Courtney can't be on camera for more than six hours a day: "You can't wear stripper shoes to yoga, so maybe she opted out." Maybe, Shayne, maybe. But Court is has special powers that enable her to incorporate transparent eight-inch platforms into every activity. Exhibit A:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>2. Courtney Stodden doesn't have to wear ugly, stinking bowling shoes like everyone else.</b></span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In another attempt to encourage "bonding," the CoTher pairs are sent to the bowling alley. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Court dresses for the occasion in the aforementioned plexiglass heels and the copper crotch cutters/lycra halter combo from the first episode. Bowling may by </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Courtney's worst nightmare, but it's a fantastic opportunity to make a gazillion titillating wisecracks about balls. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"I don't know how to put my fingers in the ball!" Court squeals. "I'm a bowling virgin!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Courtney "knocks [my] pins down every time," Doug announces.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"She knows how to work balls," Tiny side-eyes.</span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Despite her alleged lack of bowling prowess, Court rolls a strike on the first try (at least as editing would lead us to believe). It's the magic of the heels! But how she got away with wearing them instead of the rentable clown shoes everyone else is forced to wear remains a mystery.</span></div>
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>3. Courtney still talks to her ex and can't reach things</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When Dr. Jenn asks the couples to talk about trust in group, Court drops a bomb. Turns out she's still talking to her 21-year-old ex-boyfriend! WHATTTT???? I'm shocked. SHOCKED. Doug says he's going to bed sometimes and Courtney's phone is blowing up at all hours of the night. Once, he decided to put his foot down on these shenanigans, so he grabbed her phone and told Mr. 21-Year-Old to stop calling his wife, goddammit! Dr. Jenn encourages Courtney to stop trying to stir shit up to get him to tell her he cares. Fat chance, doc!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Despite his attempt at taking a share of the power in the relationship, the scales tipped back in Court's favor when she tries to get something from a not-really-all-that-high shelf. She grunts provocatively and whines that she can't reach so Doug gives her a helping hand:</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtQWL1IxQ4C4uIBeX4js-Abyq5LHt7tzUm9v1Mxjh9y72TdP_dRdwHFqExkmP020LVVtG4bzttb1MxgAlsmtyI8kc_l2TsSmaFLC7C3sMaLxGrrRQ2dXT28AxeTajyhEcoP5K_KQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-01-03+at+6.43.07+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtQWL1IxQ4C4uIBeX4js-Abyq5LHt7tzUm9v1Mxjh9y72TdP_dRdwHFqExkmP020LVVtG4bzttb1MxgAlsmtyI8kc_l2TsSmaFLC7C3sMaLxGrrRQ2dXT28AxeTajyhEcoP5K_KQ/s400/Screen+shot+2013-01-03+at+6.43.07+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Eight-inch heels did not help in this situation.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Scales, tipped.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /><b>4. This conversation:</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Courtney (in the kitchen): </b>Oh my god, there are fries in here! (picks up a wooden spoon) Can I smack your butt with this? (smacks Doug with spoon while he makes sexual sounds)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Doug: </b>D</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">id you get grease on my pants?</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Courtney:</b> No. You prima donna.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>5. Dourtney</b></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">To honor his beloved, Doug scrawls a mural on his bedroom wall:</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7T3IVzyebJMKN9T7TW-S0NZf_gg_5AyI11tvvsPt5lqTocEXvF7WRw7A_uX0Q4xAeZcD9Y70_WlLFL9xpbBnp7Yhi9rcS2twgg9nzGK034uY9DdKjs5xwLANeMRyiQ9hgqHSgGw/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-01-04+at+9.41.26+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7T3IVzyebJMKN9T7TW-S0NZf_gg_5AyI11tvvsPt5lqTocEXvF7WRw7A_uX0Q4xAeZcD9Y70_WlLFL9xpbBnp7Yhi9rcS2twgg9nzGK034uY9DdKjs5xwLANeMRyiQ9hgqHSgGw/s400/Screen+shot+2013-01-04+at+9.41.26+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Is anyone else suddenly reminded of the rebus in <i>Highlights </i>magazine?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Also, they call each other "Dourtney." As in Doug and Courtney combined into one power name, a la Brangelina. It works, I think.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>6. Courtney has saved many lives by just being herself</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Dr. Jenn meets privately with the Power Couple and announces that she's implementing a dress code in Casa CoTher. Everyone has been complaining to here about Courtney's My Little Ho-ny "outfits" and it's distracting from therapy. Here's her reaction:</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJZVGeopSWX5fVCupfssc7RAGyr768q7rqtMPabDa4yGOdFQMG-4hmbIJib8x5gJpFa_JAcdS26PlODYDPSh7D7aZfnoMZa1EX76oBsRdLBCwHVstUBmPwrER8lZrQsZlXYPOqg/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-01-04+at+9.49.09+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyJZVGeopSWX5fVCupfssc7RAGyr768q7rqtMPabDa4yGOdFQMG-4hmbIJib8x5gJpFa_JAcdS26PlODYDPSh7D7aZfnoMZa1EX76oBsRdLBCwHVstUBmPwrER8lZrQsZlXYPOqg/s320/Screen+shot+2013-01-04+at+9.49.09+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Mission accomplished, bitches!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">She may have won this round, but the War of Unfairness rages on. So Court suddenly morphs into Elizabeth Cady Stanton and decides to take a stand for those who can't stand up for themselves: The Scantily Clad. She thinks it's wrong to change for others and that she has to speak out for what she believes in because she's a voice for those who want the right to wear postage stamp-sized minis and latex boob trays.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"I've saved many lives!" she implores.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Unfortunately, Dr. Jenn doesn't explore that claim further and instead drops the hammer: from this moment on, there will be no bare midriffs, no boobs hanging out and crotches are to be properly covered at all times...OR ELSE.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"I'm a free spirit!" Courtney complains. "I need to be free to express myself and be creative!" You tell 'em, girlfriend! It's time to really show them what you're made of (besides cotton candy, tanning bed residue and Hidden Fantasy™ by Britney Spears).</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Next time:</b> Elizabeth Cady Stanton protests by exposing her midriff and Dr. Jenn is not amused.</span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">
</span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Photo stills courtesy of VH1</span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-67416130044614616762012-10-29T23:41:00.000-04:002012-10-29T23:44:22.307-04:0011 Awesome creepy doll movies<div style="text-align: left;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-right: 1em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbdknq-7qESorHD1RyDbO0ilIhI2XrACVxC6k4B1bi5FwJhFeWuXX4VZDfqgFqlVUMjwTBkMe53q6SyV7phKIROk0JxIuvtVfovzYuG2KA6iSjit2u9i6pOa_VXf1Ac5fmN5bYg/s1600/ishot-3895.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbdknq-7qESorHD1RyDbO0ilIhI2XrACVxC6k4B1bi5FwJhFeWuXX4VZDfqgFqlVUMjwTBkMe53q6SyV7phKIROk0JxIuvtVfovzYuG2KA6iSjit2u9i6pOa_VXf1Ac5fmN5bYg/s320/ishot-3895.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">"Who doesn't love ya, baby?"</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As Halloween is on the horizon and the Frankenstorm bares down on us, I think it's the perfect time to take a look at one of the most reviled horror movie staples: the creepy doll. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It's a wonder that kids aren't utterly terrified of Raggedy Ann & Andy with all of these dolls coming to life and killing people in the movies. They are supposed to bring joy to the little girls and boys, but they really just bring anxiety and fear. Like clowns.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">All creepy doll movies have similar hallmarks:</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Nine times out of 10, the doll is possessed. The other one time, they're enacting revenge for mistreatment.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The dolls always talk, even if they don't have strings.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If the doll is moved or thrown away, it always comes back.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ventriloquist dummies are always the ones in control of the act.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Every time the doll shows up, tinkly nursery rhyme music plays.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If the doll is insulted or mistreated in any way, someone dies.</span></li>
</ul>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today, I've listed my personal favorites for your enjoyment (I know I usually do 13 in my lists, but frankly, I've just about had it with creepy doll movies):</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>11. <i>Child's Play </i>(1988)</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I love horror films where the killer says funny things before he slices and dices his/her victims in creative ways. Here are a few of the best lines from one of the most infamous creepy dolls in filmdom...Chucky:</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Goodnight, asshole."</span> </blockquote>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"You have a date with death."</span> </blockquote>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"You stupid bitch! I'll teach you to mess with me!"</span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Lady: </b>Ugly doll.</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Chucky: </b>Fuck you.</span></blockquote>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That Chucky...he's such a jerk!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor: </i>3</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 10</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>10. <i>Dead of Night </i>(1945)</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Why do ventriloquists in horror movies always sell their souls for a successful career? I mean, who really wants to be a professional ventriloquist that badly? Anyway, the</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> doll portion doesn't come until the very end of the movie, so you'll have to wait a bit for it, and it's good in the meantime. I'm not sure if the puppeteer really sold his soul here, but he is definitely crazy and thinks the dummy is alive and operates completely under its' Svengali-like control...and it drives him to kill. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor: </i>4</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 7</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>9. <i>Demonic Toys</i> (1992)</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This movie is actually really stupid (I know, crazy, right?), but is worth a watch for 1.) the man-eating teddy bear and 2.) the cussing baby doll who has more funny lines than Chucky, such as: "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Hi, you fat fuck! I'm Baby Oopsy-Daisy, you lardass! Will you be my special friend?", "</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">Mother of Satan!" and "Y</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">ou're heavy, you Moby fucking Dick!"</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor: </i>1 (clown doll)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 6</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">8.<i> </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Poltergeist (1982)</i></span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Everyone knows clowns are creepy. The only person in the world who probably likes clowns is someone like Mary Lou Retton, who I'm guessing likes everybody. The parents in this movie deserve the hauntings and the decomposing corpses in their swimming pool for buying their buck-toothed son a horrifying clown doll that he throws under his bed so he doesn't have to look at it. Of course, Bozo comes to life and tries to yank him under there, too. And then a tree comes to life and tries to eat him, his sister gets sucked into a closet and talks through the TV and a guy who looks like my elementary school guidance counselor claws his own face off. P.S. This movie is rated PG!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor: </i>7</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 3 (the medium is kind of funny)</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">7. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><i>Dolls</i> (1987)</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is one of those satisfying movies where all the awful people get creamed and the nice ones get a shiny, happy ending. It's also one of those satisfying horror movies with live-action animation of tiny dolls blocking the paths of full-grown adults, gang-tackling them and sawing them up with tiny weapons. The awful people in this one include two drifter chicks with fake </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">British accents who are both sporting Boy Toy-era Madonna wear and a stick-in-the-mud stepmother in a turban and floor-length fur who signs her own death certificate by throwing a little girl's teddy bear away.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor:</i> 3</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 8</span></div>
</div>
</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>6.<i> Magic </i>(1978)</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anthony Hopkins' ventriloquist/magic act is a big hit, thanks mainly to the asshole persona of his dummy Fats. Burgess Meredith gets him his own TV show (which I hope is way better than that one guy with the puppets who is on Comedy Central all the time—he blows) and Hopkins freaks out because he's afraid of success. He takes off for some alone time in the Catskills with Ann-Margaret, but it soon becomes clear that Fats is far more than just a wooden creeper: HE'S ANTHONY HOPKINS HIMSELF. Or something like that. Anyway, it's really good and also very sad.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor:</i> 6</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 0</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1UDgdhGXW5_WpCIgEMWmV1vsXUmdF6TgTuI93zh7VgsoVafBx0m7ANXx-mzMW6fPGbcBoRShyl7EP2BOUkiBV2bHaFx6uVty1t2yuRm77uebrT5QbCNppzKbDU5Tz3h6WQdrXCQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-10-29+at+7.16.54+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1UDgdhGXW5_WpCIgEMWmV1vsXUmdF6TgTuI93zh7VgsoVafBx0m7ANXx-mzMW6fPGbcBoRShyl7EP2BOUkiBV2bHaFx6uVty1t2yuRm77uebrT5QbCNppzKbDU5Tz3h6WQdrXCQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-10-29+at+7.16.54+PM.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Someone opened the ark...and didn't look away!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>5. <i>Puppet Master </i>(1989)</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This straight-to-video classic features an incomprehensible "plot," a protagonist with feathered Robert Wagner hair and a cavalry of unforgettable living dolls, including:</span><br />
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One with a tiny head, huge hands and brute strength</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mr. Drill Head</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A lady doll who spits up leeches</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My personal favorite, Lil' Skullface, complete with a mini hook hand (see picture at left)!</span></li>
</ul>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There's also lots of doll throwing in this movie, which always makes me laugh at first because, come on...the doll is about 1/18th of your size and weighs as much as a pillow, and yet it's somehow overpowering you and eating your face off. But the laughter doesn't last long, because I know damn well what's coming next.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor:</i> 0</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 10</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>4. <i>Dead Silence </i>(2007)</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The cast alone should make you want to see this one: <i>True Blood</i>'s Ryan Kwanten as a widower who just has to find answers, Donnie Wahlberg as a wisecracking cop, Amber Valetta as a gold-digging socialite (the only role she ever plays) and the warden from Shawshank Prison as an aging fatcat. Despite lackluster reviews, I personally really enjoyed this fun romp that includes some some genuine humor and genuine scares (and a doll cemetery complete with little wooden coffins!!!).</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor:</i> 8</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 8</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>3. "The Twilight Zone" (Episode 126; 1963) </b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It's not a movie, but it's a classic. Telly Savalas threatens a talking doll by holding a match close to her, throwing her across the room, tossing her in a trash can and putting bricks on the lid, squishing her plastic head in a vice and running her neck through a ban saw. The doll doesn't take to kindly to Telly's torture. Her infamous (and awesome) response: <a href="http://www.hark.com/clips/qfqvfzwjqr-my-name-is-talky-tina-and-im-going-to-kill-you">"Hi, I'm Talky Tina and I'm going to KILL YOU!"</a> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor:</i> 9</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 8</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Devil Doll </i>(1964)</span></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here we go again with the career ventriloquists. In this film, the dummy Hugo helps his "master" The Great Vorelli become a sensation when he astounds audiences by actually getting off Vorelli's lap, walking to the front of the stage and greeting the crowd. The morons around Vorelli think he's really just an amazing magician, but the truth is MUCH. MORE. SINISTER. Hugo is a loose cannon and needs to be locked in a cage every night. Hugo and Vorelli even have a stand-off at a cocktail party where the dummy menaces the magician with a butter knife. It's a must-see for that scene alone.</span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor:</i> 9</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 9</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1WmEh9Dna3KVWmj13jiBeQ4PqdXXtpeN6Sy10PzIIaSywKU2koHz0ej7fIh1C4Pmn0HoxWh0rWgQSKIKYF8aPL_LwSeG_319RzWKiv6DkFjiLHO0zSj4qIVAoR6pBVFFGBCkDqg/s1600/trilogyofterrorexaminercom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1WmEh9Dna3KVWmj13jiBeQ4PqdXXtpeN6Sy10PzIIaSywKU2koHz0ej7fIh1C4Pmn0HoxWh0rWgQSKIKYF8aPL_LwSeG_319RzWKiv6DkFjiLHO0zSj4qIVAoR6pBVFFGBCkDqg/s320/trilogyofterrorexaminercom.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">The next person who recommends Pantene gets stabbed in the face.</span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">1. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Trilogy of Terror </i>(1975)</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The "zulu fetish doll" segment, starring the always awesome Karen Black, has the dubious honor of being both legitimately creepy and unabashedly hilarious. If the little zulu statue with the piranha-like teeth, itty-bitty spear and cat-on-a-fence-at-midnight screechings isn't fabulous enough, his "attacks" are even better. He pops out of the bathtub! He somehow manages to open a door, despite being about a foot tall! He jabs a steak knife under doors! He saws his way out of a suitcase! And of course (spoiler alert!) he wins in the end. They always do!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Creep factor:</i> 10</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>Hilarity factor:</i> 10,000</span></span></div>
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RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-79781462295421075402012-10-27T14:51:00.000-04:002012-10-27T14:58:17.901-04:00CoTher 2.3: My fair Courtney<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsx_IKtW2RwkhqmKWS5dgV0ClZVBMJWLi96K2787MCpKCqHoZUYg4SWOlWEoPDixEKQawIe4UVFBxANhEqq4jJZ-bBV2EE4ftgZlfoemgbDxz63LwFuNwuwumaBIQV627lmGylxA/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-10-27+at+12.39.02+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsx_IKtW2RwkhqmKWS5dgV0ClZVBMJWLi96K2787MCpKCqHoZUYg4SWOlWEoPDixEKQawIe4UVFBxANhEqq4jJZ-bBV2EE4ftgZlfoemgbDxz63LwFuNwuwumaBIQV627lmGylxA/s320/Screen+shot+2012-10-27+at+12.39.02+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">"The rain in Spain falls mainly on the pl....<br />OMG, A POT-SMOKING SKUNK!"</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Dr. Jenn says the first 48 hours of therapy are brutal. It's sort of like that show "The First 48." If you don't catch a killer within the first two days after a crime occurs, your chances of avenging the victim's death are cut in half. So, I guess that means if you don't fix relationships in that amount of time, well...hell's bells.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Two people we don't have to worry about are our favorite gruesome twosome, Doug Hutchinson and Courtney Stodden. <i>Or do we? </i>Today, Court is sporting an Afghan Hound blowout and her leather hotpants from the last episode. Doug tells her she looks beautiful and then promptly throws his back out. It's the perfect illustration of this episode's running theme: Courtney's skankwear and the aging Svengali with a slipped disc who loves it.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Group therapy starts out with a blergh when Dr. Jenn looks right at our happy couple and makes a comment about "</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">using your wife as a sexual object to promote her career." Doug takes offense, but Judge Jenn asks him if it's not true that his family and friends have abandoned him, his work options have dried up and he is now in the business of Courtney. Is that NOT TRUE, Doug Hutchinson??</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Court pouts and says nobody understands that she's actually a really sweet person with very strong Christian beliefs and that god made her just the way she is and he also made copper spandex disco crotch-cutters and matching boob slings so what's the big deal? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Dr. Jenn suddenly morphs into Professor Henry Higgins and asks Court if she'd be willing to wear sweats, no makeup and regular flat shoes. "I want to be like that!" Courtney insists. "But I'm stubborn and I need help!" </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now Courtney, Dr. Jenn promises that by the end of "Couples Therapy," you'll ride in a carriage to Buckingham Palace and if the royals think you a lady, you'll get a job in a shop! But if they think you a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">trampasaurus</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> in sheep's clothing, you shall be banished to the lunchtime side stage at The Eager Beaver. It's going to be hard, because Court eats the attention up with a spoon and "sometimes [I] forget [I'm] married!" The comment shocks everyone, including Doug, and the facial expressions of surprise, disgust and confusion are priceless. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Courtney is using her age as an excuse, but Tiny reminds her that she "made a grown-woman decision to get married." Tiny, we don't tolerate that kind of rationality and real-keeping in Courtneywood! But Dr. Jenn implores Court to listen to others' input whether she likes what they have to say or not.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Later, Nik and Doug have a sit-down, Tony Soprano-style, to work out their differences. But unlike Tony, the counselor/moderator allows both of them to keep their kneecaps and livelihoods. All seems to be going smoothly until Doug tries to tell Court what happened. Here's their conversation:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Courtney:</b> Tell me what you talked about; tell me everything! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Doug: </b>That cat is a trip. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Courtney:</b> Meow! You are so cute! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Doug:</b> I think it was under the auspices of...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Courtney: </b>So sorry to interrupt you, but it smells like a skunk out here. Anyways, I'm sorry; so what happened?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Doug:</b> I think we accomplished what we're going to accomplish with this and I don't think he's going to hurl insults at you any more...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Courtney:</b> I smell pot! The skunk is smoking pot!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Doug:</b> You are so distracted. Anyway, h</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">e said his intention is to understand us more, which I don't think is the complete truth...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Courtney: </b>(gasps) It's that skunk again! It's smoking pot!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Doug:</b> I'm</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">trying</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> to share with you and you're not in the mood. You want to play.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Courtney:</b> I'm just warning you that it's getting closer.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"She communicates in a 21st-century way," Doug rations. "She's a teenager." Why can't a woman be more like a man, Doug? WHY??? He tries to explain to Courtney that when he wants to tell her stuff, she gets distracted by bugs and puppies and unexpected breezes and IT HURTS HIS FEELINGS</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. Yeah, yeah, Doug, Court gets it, but how is she supposed to concentrate on your feelings when there are ravenous coyotes howling in the background? "Shoot a gun in the air!" Courtney screams. "I appreciate nature, but that's a part of nature I don't want to hear!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">While Courtney is busy shooting pool in a bikini (later she's going to wash Doug's car in slow motion), Doug joins Tiny on the patio and she expresses her concern about Courtney's appearance. "I'm more concerned about how she feels about herself to dress so inappropriately," she says."Those clothes are like, 'Hello, hoochie!'" God created those clothes, Tiny, GOD. Who are you to question the man upstairs?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Despite her blasphemy, Tiny's comments make Doug think. And he thinks the thoughts he had about Courtney's outfits are making him think more negatively than he previously thought. Uh oh, troubs in paradise! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If these two could just work it out, wouldn't be lovely?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Next week: The boys of Courtney's past! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-81168156696579417702012-10-25T21:41:00.003-04:002012-10-25T21:46:46.202-04:00BREAKING (kind of): I'm quoted in The Telegraph!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpglA4IY9LwaGxM1AtxcB5mmSO8W9Kph-aubtH14fV_O8BwF14BJZ05fBawNO5yH0JpWhQln_fABngqbycUArWOP_hNJCvGTvOyhoYXplX3uPfyaS7j0iTvnv75K2TnRtpnG61vA/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-10-25+at+9.40.17+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="36" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpglA4IY9LwaGxM1AtxcB5mmSO8W9Kph-aubtH14fV_O8BwF14BJZ05fBawNO5yH0JpWhQln_fABngqbycUArWOP_hNJCvGTvOyhoYXplX3uPfyaS7j0iTvnv75K2TnRtpnG61vA/s200/Screen+shot+2012-10-25+at+9.40.17+PM.png" width="200" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Check this out, guys: <a href="http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/culture/neilmccormick/100057804/the-smiths-retail-therapy-is-this-the-worst-advertising-song-ever/" target="_blank"><i>The Telegraph's</i> music critic Neil McCormick has quoted me in one of his columns!</a> And he called <a href="http://rockitqueen.blogspot.com/2010/06/13-worst-uses-of-rock-in-commercials.html" target="_blank">my commentary</a> on the use of The Smiths' "How Soon Is Now?" in a Nissan Maxima commercial "rather amusing!!!" How cool is that??</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">While I'm bummed that I just now discovered this (the column ran in 2011), that is not going to stop me from putting on my Burger King crown with "I'm #1" written on it and parading around my apartment because I am now KING SHIT ("Queen Shit" just doesn't sound epic enough for what I am).</span></div>
RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-18209079650592527532012-10-18T20:48:00.002-04:002012-10-18T22:57:39.645-04:00CoTher 2.2: Dream a little dream of C<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga4C5F0Nq_BMyKhXHfhFOMoqjY7l8addHIJuopqCyljQBCSEpM6pr3lBSTGXqZ14cjgeQfuvBrV49diXex32aYRJ_p9gdJe36Sd_yGBvKKiphI4jcXIKIWk0s6rsBFEoebBzuE7g/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-10-16+at+7.37.19+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga4C5F0Nq_BMyKhXHfhFOMoqjY7l8addHIJuopqCyljQBCSEpM6pr3lBSTGXqZ14cjgeQfuvBrV49diXex32aYRJ_p9gdJe36Sd_yGBvKKiphI4jcXIKIWk0s6rsBFEoebBzuE7g/s200/Screen+shot+2012-10-16+at+7.37.19+PM.png" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">"No, really, tell me more about your weird <br />half-dream that didn't really happen."</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Picture it: last Saturday night. RockitQueen: (who kind of looks like Angelina Jolie meets Joan Jett meets Angela Bassett meets Megan Fox...) lies in bed in that dream state that's halfway between sleep and awake where you feel like you're floating in a tunnel at the other end from reality. RockitKing: watching TV at about 4 a.m. RockitQueen vaguely hears a voice that sounds kind of like Courtney Stodden, a.k.a. the greatest thing to happen to pop culture since, well, <i>Rock of Love. Can this be real? </i>RockitQueen mumbles from her dream state "Zzzzzthazzz Courtzzzz Stoddezzzzzz?" Then from the other end of the dream tunnel, a male voice: "Oh my god, they just asked the skank if she was molested!" RockitQueen: "Izzzzzzz needzzzzz to blogzzzzz about thizzzzzzzzzz." Annnddddd...scene! (P.S. RockitKing swears this didn't actually happen, but I'm telling you it did! Or maybe it's the medication.) Anyhoo.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So here we are and I'm finally </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">blogzzzzz about thizzzzzzzzzz. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When we last left off, Doug Hutchinson had just told Nik Ritchie, "We're going down" unless Nik apologizes for calling Courtney trash. And when we pick up, nothing really happens. Boo! Nik says, "H</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">e's 51 years old and he's dating a girl in high school. Doug is mindfucked." Doug says he and Court Court hoped to come into a "safe, nonjudgemental environment," but that hope has gone down the toilet. Z</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">zzzz... this is not exciting. What can I do to spice this up? Oh, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I can tell you this: I was just informed today that Doug played one of the child rapists in the hit John Grisham adaptation (and the movie that made Matthew McConaughey a stahhh) <i>A Time to Kill.</i> Ironic! </span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After that grinding start, shit starts getting a little more lively. There's a little bit of an issue with filming because, see, Courtney has to leave the house and go stay in a hotel because she's underage and there are all these annoying child labor laws in California so she can only film for 6.5 hours a day. This means our star-crossed lovers have to be apart for a good portion of the day. As Courtney boards the Holiday Inn Airport Shuttle (I don't know if that's really what it is, but let's pretend) and drives away, she and Doug both longingly reach out, desperate to not let go. Doug whispers,"I'll dream about you tonight!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The next day, harsh, banal reality is about to set in as the couples file stoically into </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">the first group therapy session.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Dr. Jenn comes into the session guns ablazin': everyone is required to reveal the lowest, darkest moment in their relationships. One couple says it was when wife announced, "I want a divorce." </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Another reveals it was when husband got out of the hospital after almost drinking himself to death. It's all very depressing and sad. Then, here's Courtney and Doug:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8svQ4b1qZVP5elZVmuRwy93OJ7iNFAcpUGJ5skpqgph9SXaN0kNugYHntL3t2DRnDaMHJRLLmVaMxDsNooQHnrKYzMCTx5WLVyal6ISJQl1uwZU1XwWnQKPaZKgq898AANaQtw/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-10-16+at+7.38.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp8svQ4b1qZVP5elZVmuRwy93OJ7iNFAcpUGJ5skpqgph9SXaN0kNugYHntL3t2DRnDaMHJRLLmVaMxDsNooQHnrKYzMCTx5WLVyal6ISJQl1uwZU1XwWnQKPaZKgq898AANaQtw/s200/Screen+shot+2012-10-16+at+7.38.44+PM.png" style="cursor: move;" width="188" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Britney, if you're reading this, THIS is <br />how you do extensions.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"We're at the store and Courtney gets a lot of attention and a guy came up and gave Courtney his phone number and Doug felt uncomfortable so later Doug gets all up in Courtney's face (as the kids these days say) and and raising his voice and Courtney calls Doug a 'very evil name' and that name was 'fat fuck'</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> because Doug was very vulnerable and "self-concious about his shape" and Doug struggles because he's super-afraid he's going to lose Courtney because she gets this 'maelstrom of attention' and it's exhausting."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Whew. Dr. Jenn thinks the problem is Courtney's outfits and if they're going to "have peace" she's just going to have to knock it off with the Lycra spandex camel toe/nip bullshit.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Here we go again with the Judgy Judgerton! Dr. Jenn, stop being all jel and shit!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After the group therapy fuckery, a new couple joins the house and it's rapper Too $hort and his girlfriend Monica. They met at a George Clinton concert (which is awesome) and they're having problems because Too $hort is a sex fiend (which blows). The two newbies show up as Courtney and Doug are telling everyone all about how Courtney was going to wear a bikini to their wedding, but she ended up going with a white mini that cost $15 at Rave or something (and the best supporting stars in this show are Nik Ritchie's facial expressions of disgust).</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Courtney greets Too $hort and Monica by telling them she's a white girl and doesn't understand who they are because she was born in '94 and is the same age as Justin Bieber. And if that didn't make hell freeze over, this will: Too $hort is dumbfounded. It's a historic moment, kind of like the <a href="http://rockitqueen.blogspot.com/2009/01/rol31-open-up-and-saygahhhhhh.html" target="_blank">first episode of </a><i><a href="http://rockitqueen.blogspot.com/2009/01/rol31-open-up-and-saygahhhhhh.html" target="_blank">Rock of Love: Bus</a> </i>when Random Blonde #753 jabbed a test tube shot into the danger zone of Random Blonde #289 and even Bret was grossed out. Courtney tells $hort that her mom is Doug's age and her dad is two years younger. "I'm shocked," $hort says. "That literally shocked me." And then he gets all judgy on Court's minidress. "I know strippers who don't dress like that wh</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">en they're not working," he chides. "I don't want to sit around and stare at children's boobies." Aaaaannnd...Too $hort officially has the quote of the ep. Congrats!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After a scene that is clearly trying to brainwash people into thinking our Court is a big dum dum (she can't tell the difference between a dishwasher and a garbage compactor), our favorite couple heads into their first individual therapy session. Dr. Jenn is already on the offensive, saying she's struggling about treating them and wondering if this is a predatory relationship or a legitimate one. More haterz! It's Doug and Court against the world.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Doug says he's truly in love and Courtney informs Dr. Jenn that when you look like her, physically, men follow you home and write to you. When you have that kind of attention, it's difficult to discern what's real and who just wants a piece of ass. Yuck, who wants all those letters? It's totally annoying when you have to read them and stuff. Well, anyway, Doug liked Courtney for the RIGHT reasons and she insists that she's the one who pushed him to get married. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">"Rocket science" is actually a colloquial<br />term for aerospace engineering—DUHHHHH!"</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now, here's where the dream tunnel picks up. Dr. Jenn tells Court that she presents in a "very hypersexual way" and that usually translates to "bad touch from Daddy." But Courtney says NO, she was not molested and she is just more comfortable putting the goods in the storefront window with giant spotlights, neon signs and a local high school band playing "Proud Mary" around it. So there!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Doug then opens his heart and talks about how his love with Courtney has torn his family apart. His mom sent back all the Mother's Day cards he sent over the years and his brother, with whom he had a close relationship, informed him that he's no longer welcome at family functions. "M</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">y family has become Courtney," he says sadly and Dr. Jenn concludes that this makes them feel like Romeo and Juliet and that's not good for healthy relationship development. And then they do trust falls with Dr. Jenn (not really, but let's pretend) and the session is over. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It's soon dinnertime at Casa CoTher and everyone's pitching in. Courtney prances into the kitchen in a teeny red bikini and her ever-present stripper heels and starts cleaning the table. That's not a euphemism, but she does start pointing the bottle of cleaner at Nik and saying, "Where should I squirt this? Tell me where to squirt it!" She may as well have just stood up on the table and poured a bottle of Cristal over her head. Subtle she's not!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Shayne encourages Courtney to put on some clothes and she retreats to the bedroom to throw on a pair of leather booty shorts. Shayne is pissed, saying, "I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> don't want my man looking at that while he eats his potatoes!" and takes her food to eat somewhere else. The word <i>respect</i> is thrown around liberally. And the green-eyed monster rears its ugly head. Court munches away innocently on her meatloaf puree, Malt-O-Meal and zweiback (not really, but let's pretend) while everyone else stews around her.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This week's final scene really says it all: Courtney casually lounges by the pool in her red dinnertime bikini while everyone else smokes, gives each other side-eyes and broods. That's right, people...it's Courtney's world. And you just live in it.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Next week: "I'm never going to be ok with what you do." 12-step. "She needs to find her voice." </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Photo stills courtesy of VH1</span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-89509125368265400202012-10-07T22:21:00.002-04:002012-10-07T22:35:08.562-04:00Couples Therapy 2.1: Why can't you just let Courtney be great?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">OK, as promised, I'm back to my roots of blogging a trashy VH1 reality show. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But this time it's a little bit different. "Couples Therapy" is no <a href="http://rockitqueen.blogspot.com/search/label/RoL" target="_blank">"Rock of Love,"</a> for one thing (and what is, I ask you? What is?). And for another thing, I don't give two shits about anyone on this show except two people: Doug Hutchinson and Courtney Stodden.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">I think I might have this framed.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That's Courtney (age 17, media ho) describing the love she feels for Doug (age 51, ac-toor). They are the Bogey and Bacall for the 20teens. The Hepburn and Tracey of the millennium. The Whitney and Bobby of the apocalypse (the world<i> is </i>still ending on December 21, right?).</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We get a little glimpse into the dark pink underworld of this pair's marriage in the first few minutes of the show. "Upbeat rock music" (according to the closed captioning) plays as the stage is set. Doug laments that his wife gets so much attention that it's exhausting. They're shown taking a leisurely stroll around an outdoor shopping area with Doug sporting </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ed-Hardy-midlife-crisis wear and a burglar's cap and C</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">ourtney decked out in a sidewalk-length evening gown with rhinestone belt and a slit up to her armpit. Courtney just throws her head back and laughs and laughs like a deranged jackal. "People disagree with our union because we have a con-to-ver-sal [sic] age gap!" she announces. Doug insists that he tries to get Courtney to cover up more than 2% of her body at any given time. They're then shown moving into the CoTher house and she's clad in see-through hooker heels that are as tall as Doug and some kind of gold and black lycra...outfit? I'm not sure. It might just be two wrist bands:</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Jesus, Doug, what's with the outfit? Have some respect for yourself!</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It's at this point in the show when we get to see just what makes Courtney Stodden truly magical: her music. Yes, she's a singer! And her first single, "Don't Put it on Me," is a scathing attack on the jelly-jells who hate her because she's beautiful (please, please, I am begging you to take the time to watch this):</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">She's on a boat with a pink dog, slurping down an 80-oz. Marga-blaster (virgin, of course) while you're just sitting in a broken lawn chair with a regular brown dog drinking from a beer hat. You suck and she rocks. Get used to it.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And if you thought that was the best thing you've seen all day, get a load of this (please, please I am begging you to take the time to watch this one, too, but BRACE YOURSELF. Also, probably NSFL—Not Safe for Life):</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Take a moment to let that all sink in.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The accompanying screen text bitchily points out that on YouTube, this video has 429 likes and 687, 989 dislikes. People just don't get the art of a human being coughing up a hairball and using a litterbox. But people also didn't get Warhol.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Courtney needs this.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Speaking of litterboxes, Doug asks Courtney if she has to "go potty" and she says she has to "pee pee" and that she can carry her suitcase by herself because she's "like a strong Barbie doll." They're just a regular old married couple now, but they still wax nostalgic about how their love blossomed. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Courtney was taking Doug's online acting workshop. Oh my god, can you imagine? Courtney wearing sexy librarian glasses, intently studying the "craft" on her pink laptop. Doug discussing method acting and how he insisted on playing a shapeshifter on "The X-Files" in the nude to really get into character (this is apparently real, and it totally creeped David Duchovny out). As they're innocently playing teacher and student, Cupid's arrow strikes. Picture all this through a Vaseline-smeared webcam lens. Sigh...dreamy!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When Doug went to visit Courtney for the first time, he proposed almost immediately. The rest is history...with her parents' consent, of course. (Interestingly, though, Courtney's dad doesn't give consent to appear on the show, as he's fuzzed out in the happy family portrait they show to illustrate this. And Doug's family has also disowned him.) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Everywhere they turn, people just shit all over their love, and they have not found any kind of safe haven at Casa CoTher. Counselor Rachel Clark greets the pair and gives them a house tour. In the kitchen, she asks if they like to cook. "I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">'ll lay on the counter and you can cook on my stomach!" Courtney squeals. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Rachel says she's trying not to judge, but her face says it all: </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Don't put it on me, girl, don't!</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Rach just doesn't get it.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">OK, now I guess we have to move on to the other couples (or should I say, supporting characters) in the house. We have Shayne Lamas, daughter of Lorenzo Lamas (and granddaughter of femininity expert <a href="http://rockitqueen.blogspot.com/2006/08/always-ask-man.html" target="_blank">Arlene Dahl!!!</a>), and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Nik Richie from TheDirty.com (which, because I'm a terrible person, I kind of enjoy); Simon and Alex McCord from "The Real Housewives of New York City;" and singer JoJo and his totally adorable wife Tiny. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">All of these pairs are fighting, complaining and fretting over their futures. In the midst of all this turmoil, where are Doug and Courtney? Oh, here they are! They're still in the kitchen and D</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">oug is throwing grapes for Courtney to catch in her cleavage! Here's their conversation:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Courtney: </b>We're making a big mess in the mansion! (Picks up grape.) Here, eat this off the floor and show me you're a man.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Doug: </b>No, honey, it's got hair on it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Courtney: I'</b>ll eat it. (Eats hairy grape.)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Clearly, they are there as a model to others. How can people whose lives are falling apart not be inspired by these two? It's time for them to show the other couples in the house what a healthy, loving relationship looks like. But as they go out to greet everyone, the judgement begins. Shayne groans and asks Courtney, "W</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">hat are you wearing, girlfriend?" Duh, Shayne! "I'm wearing my daily wear!" Court responds. "What are YOU wearing?" Courtney then informs everyone that she's not wearing underwear and Doug drools, "That's why I'm the luckiest man in the world!" </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Everyone appears horrified and Nik says Courtney is a starfucker who submits herself to TheDirty.com all the time. Shayne is clearly uncomfortable and Doug starts asking her if she's high, because "she sounds high." Then Nik calls Courtney the "trash all over the internet" and the fur starts flying. Doug and Nik get up in each other's faces, as the kids these days say, the word "motherfucker" is thrown around and soon, Doug and Courtney are run off by the mob of townspeople with their pitchforks, sort of like Frankenstein's monster if Frankenstein's monster wore a pewter halter and lucite stripper heels. Doug says they're like Bonnie and Clyde—it's them against the world. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Will you blow me?" Courtney says. "I mean blow ON me. I'm really hot."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">At the first group therapy session, psycologist Dr. Jen Berman notes the animosity among the group (to paraphrase Tony Soprano, she must have finished at the top of her fucking class). There's talk about "being real" and "forming bonds" and Dr. Jen says she has a low tolerance for BS.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Doug, however, keeps spouting off how he thinks everyone sees him. "How can a child molester walk around and not be arrested?" he mocks, and demands an apology for the trash comment. "Under California rules, we're married, under god." Everyone groans and rolls their eyes. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"We're falling into their trap and talking about them," Nik says. Amen, buddy. You think your marriage is bad? Your problems are just beginning: you have to compete with the great stars of the new golden age: Doug Hutchinson and Courtney Stodden! Why can't you just let them be great?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This season on "Couples Therapy:" Courtney gallivants; "I didn't believe in me;" Courtney wears a bikini to dinner; "there's a wedding tomorrow!"; Courtney in hot pants; "stop acting like a baby;" Courtney prances; "I love you so much!"; Courtney, Courtney, Courtney.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh, also: Doug has "Courtney" shaved into his hair:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8BlzB_qeJhxpoCqtC-1yZJVKLf-0AvG9TcX4fQ9blF8c0AmUpGDXObTUiP9v4JyG-VMLZefddmV6zbyMaeZQ_VHwEv_FNCC7GyDj5LrhZhv7wWL6qrDCJHSH2QZvszesCNBUoUA/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-10-08+at+9.01.39+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8BlzB_qeJhxpoCqtC-1yZJVKLf-0AvG9TcX4fQ9blF8c0AmUpGDXObTUiP9v4JyG-VMLZefddmV6zbyMaeZQ_VHwEv_FNCC7GyDj5LrhZhv7wWL6qrDCJHSH2QZvszesCNBUoUA/s320/Screen+shot+2012-10-08+at+9.01.39+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Romantical!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Let's see if we can say the word "Courtney" more next time. Until then, bitches!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">All screenshots from VH1. T-shirt pic from Noisebot.</span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-62039290800959579512012-09-26T20:04:00.000-04:002012-09-26T20:04:01.637-04:00Love, exciting and new<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'm baaaackkkkkkkk! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'm sure you were all curled up in a ball sobbing and praying fervently for my return these past few months. But, you see, I just needed to get away from the harsh, punishing lights of Hollywood. After a rejuvenating spiritual journey to Africa and a return to my hometown of Yellow Springs, Ohio, to live on a farm with my wife and kids and periodically attend open-mic nights at Peach's Grill, I've decided to get back to blogging. And I'm agonna give the people what they want: blog posts about teen bride Courtney Stodden and her creepy actor husband Doug Hutchinson! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi066tGXfyeg6ALeKwU29gWWmSLqByBaT0TzWg5ziDKInl2pb5DFk-e4U1mdyuXAkzKCeljxP_mwALwL3y3Zwh-qcuniKcJvyEjwI1fK70Mkfrv_LgztUI3IspH1x9YDqJtAyhz8g/s1600/cmg3czRlU2JKTGsx_o_courtney-stodden-doug-hutchisons-special-child-wife-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi066tGXfyeg6ALeKwU29gWWmSLqByBaT0TzWg5ziDKInl2pb5DFk-e4U1mdyuXAkzKCeljxP_mwALwL3y3Zwh-qcuniKcJvyEjwI1fK70Mkfrv_LgztUI3IspH1x9YDqJtAyhz8g/s200/cmg3czRlU2JKTGsx_o_courtney-stodden-doug-hutchisons-special-child-wife-.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">"It's like they got together just for us."—Lola</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'm all excited because America's Favorite Couple</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">™ </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">is set to "star" in the new VH1 hit "Couples Therapy." For those of you who aren't acquainted with these two lovebirds, here's the skinny: Doug, who is probably best known for being the go-to guy to play weirdo creep-os, is in his 50s. Courtney, who is probably best known for..well...<a href="http://dlisted.com/topics/courtney-stodden" target="_blank">being her,</a> is 17. Hey, what's the problem? They're in looooove! But they're still going to couples therapy and I'm going to blog about it. Frankly, I don't give a rat's ass about who else is on the show. I'm just going to write about the parts that feature these two and I can't fucking wait. This is my new "Rock of Love." All I needed was a miracle...all I needed was Doug and Courtney.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So stay tuned and be sure to watch the first ep, which airs on VH1 October 3 at 10 p.m. ET, after which I'm sure it will NEVER AIR AGAIN, so make sure you watch it on that very day. <a href="http://www.vh1.com/video/misc/839223/season-2-supertrailer.jhtml#id=1694391" target="_blank">Here's a trailer </a>to whet the old appetite.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In other news, get this: I got spanked by Blogger for posting copyrighted material. Hahaha! Someone told on me for stealing a picture for use in one of my "awful plastic surgery" posts. Blogger unpublished the post, but didn't tell me which image was the offender. This, of course, begs the question: who got all butthurt that I posted a picture of their fucked-up knife job that was readily available all over the internet already? What a whiner! But more investigation is needed. I am not giving up my right to steal crap from the internetz that easily.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">By the way, that still above came from ABCNews.com, so don't yell at me, George Stephanopoulos!</span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-45273741976366522552012-06-16T12:00:00.000-04:002012-06-16T12:02:13.721-04:00Overheard this week<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">• "I believe if you don't bend your urethra past 45 degrees, you'll be OK."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">• "He thought I wouldn't be there, but I said, 'You can't keep a good bitch down!'"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">• In the office, around 3 p.m.: "Oh, there's your nipple!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">• "I tried to make a dick balloon animal, but it popped so I started playing 'Taps' on my kazoo."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 19px;">• "In other news, my silver go-go boots came in yesterday."</span><br />
<div class="yiv374998383MsoNormal" style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• "What if you're size Ka-BLOWWWW?"</span></div>
<div class="yiv374998383MsoNormal" style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: black; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;">• "The event was good. It was very crowded, yet I kept running into David Hyde Pierce. E</span><span style="color: black; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;">verywhere I went, there he was. I mean literally, like stuck in an aisle and can't get around David Hyde Pierce."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• "I love me some Sherrod Brown."</span></div>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-60721105896589924402012-01-05T19:34:00.001-05:002012-01-05T19:37:53.306-05:00GOOP in your pants!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtndMWjAyxsZMsk6WCIbotbWFRZUsZVkHQFutbGG1ADJKqNOZOFxsAiae6ii92pgwyU7X0IchhAXAFsEucMfcfMWrjf9yD2WQTv7GQS5GRztCISqyxIYfDkE6vJiRUoIts1rDH8A/s1600/cleanse-goop-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtndMWjAyxsZMsk6WCIbotbWFRZUsZVkHQFutbGG1ADJKqNOZOFxsAiae6ii92pgwyU7X0IchhAXAFsEucMfcfMWrjf9yD2WQTv7GQS5GRztCISqyxIYfDkE6vJiRUoIts1rDH8A/s200/cleanse-goop-2.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Free two-day shipping?? Sign me up!</span></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Hey, everyone! Have you all made your new year's resolutions? It's always a great idea to kick off a new year with an empty promise to yourself that will go down the tubes by the end of the month! Inspiring!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If your intention is to lose some damn weight already, you're in luck. Our old pal Gwyneth Paltrow is here to help! In the latest issue of her GOOP newsletter, GP once again starts off the new year with a post about getting rid of all the liquid fat you crammed down your gullet during the holidays via a fun n' healthy cleanse. But this year, there's a new surprise: Gwynnie has introduced her very own GOOP CLEANSE! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When you've woken up from your excitement-induced blackout, check out what this life-changing kit includes:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-Nourish: Protein powder</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-Move: Fiber powder</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-Clear 1: Probiotic anti-microbial</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-Balance: Insulin regulator</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-Ease: Digestive enzyme</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-Encourage: Strong probiotic</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-Clear 2: Liver support</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-Cleanse Manual</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-Recipe Guide</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For a mere $425, all this can be yours! Then you can ingest handfuls of pills with a sludge "smoothie" chaser every day for an entire month, sending your body into starvation mode and giving you a hunger delirium that you'll interpret as "feeling lighter"!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You'll have a shake for breakfast, a shake for dinner and a sensible lunch from a select list of foods. Like a chicken wrap made with a wheat-free tortilla and two tablespoons of hummus. Or a pumpkin coconut stew that looks like what you're probably expelling into the toilet every night during your cleanse. Or a warm mint chocolate shake. Yes, warm. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">GOOP also advises you to "work with a doctor who understands and is supportive of your cleansing goals." In other words, "work with a 'doctor' who has a diploma in something like Naturopathic Accupressure from a university with a P.O. box for an address who will tell you to go for it, but only after you pick up a few of his or her approved supplements to help you in your Cleansing Journey." </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Once you've got your kit in your hot little hands, it's time to get started and get ready to shit like you've never shat before! That all-too-familiar "gotta-go gurgle" will seize you when you least expect it! Like when you're stuck in traffic! Or in the middle of a team meeting! And when the GOOP cleanse is ready to work, it's ready to give you the butt-blasting of a lifetime! Hey, if you really want the wispy, wan pallor of Paltrow, you have to work for it!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Might be a good idea to keep some Beano handy.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When it's all over, Gwynnie promises you'll lose a few pounds and kick off a healthier and more energetic new year. She's forcing the entire GOOP staff (all 2? 3? of them) to participate, and I'm sure Chris Martin is riding the porcelain roller coaster as we speak. Join them, BE them. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">OK, in all seriousness, I just can't with this crazy bitch any more. She is, quite literally, massively full of shit.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">XO, RQ</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">P.S. "Probiotic anti-microbial"?? They may as well have just called it Dr. R.J. Copperhead's Genuine Original Famous Snake Oyl Elixir Tonic Liniment For What Ails Ya.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">P.P.S. Post title courtesy of the handsome and talented RockitKing!!</span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-69812360850210317282012-01-02T14:00:00.000-05:002012-01-02T14:00:14.488-05:00New year, same old shit<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9iZz1lGMhHShz-72tJgrO6wlb_DqhHg7RZZxVlZYxOcvi62kfwZsyXwey1HN8oq9ytRdw6lQAppgoRrSTZufeSlwIxV87siqCOsKDISutwRk8aWVZ2niRvDKW6IVS4RKjqtnEA/s1600/winning-sheen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9iZz1lGMhHShz-72tJgrO6wlb_DqhHg7RZZxVlZYxOcvi62kfwZsyXwey1HN8oq9ytRdw6lQAppgoRrSTZufeSlwIxV87siqCOsKDISutwRk8aWVZ2niRvDKW6IVS4RKjqtnEA/s200/winning-sheen.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">More trustworthy than<br />Rick Santorum.</span></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Are you there, readers? It's me, Rockit.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The riots in the streets may cease: I am back to semi-regular blogging. It's Year 6 for Stupid & Contagious (whoop whoop) and I'd love to hear what you'd like to read about. I'm pretending that there are enough people just begging to read what I write, so play along. If there's any topic—pop culture or otherwise—you'd like me to make fun of, simply say so in the comments and your wish is my command. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That said, the world is ending in December, so get your requests in ASAP.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Despite impending doom, there are already a number of things for us to "look forward to" this </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">year. And a number of things that we know are inevitable. For instance:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-<b> Britney's getting married for the third time! </b>And this time, our favorite little dead-eyed automaton is tying the knot with long-time boyfriend Not Jim Jarmusch. Actually, now that I think about it, he looks more like if <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000464/">Jim Jarmusch</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1009277/">Dax Shepard</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0870794/">Sam Merlotte</a> from <i>True Blood.</i> So I will henceforth nickname him Jardaxmerlotte. Anyway, how long do we all think this one will last? My guess: they'll quietly divorce within three years, asking for privacy during this difficult time and assuring everyone that they remain "the best of friends."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-<b>Duggars announce #20, take 2!</b> Despite the fact that clearly Jesus is telling them to knock it the fuck off already, I predict we'll get a "happy announcement" sometime during the summer months, most likely July. Another miscarriage will occur, this time with Michelle's uterus falling out and saying "I quit this bitch." Again they'll pimp the tragedy out with touching, "tasteful" photos of the dead kid, a creepy memorial service and an anti-abortion infomercial thinly disguised as a "tribute video." And if the tissue sample is a boy, they'll name it Jesus. (In fact, I can't believe they haven't named one that already.) </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-<b>Charlie Sheen is elected president in November!</b> Since Americans clearly want a mentally unstable kook in office, the country goes for broke and elects everyone's favorite quote machine into the president's chair. Also, Casey Anthony for VP.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-<b>Beyonce and Jay-Z become parents</b>! Oh, right...no one cares. Until Jay-Z comes out of the closet and takes up with the newly single Kobe Bryant!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-<b>Doomsday cults commit mass suicide on 12-21-12! </b>This includes the weirdos who follow Harold Egbert Camping, aka C. Montgomery Burns in the flesh. Sad but true, people...we know this is going to happen. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-<b>The summer Olympics!</b> Oh goody...more drooling over Michael Phelps! More scandals involving underage Chinese gymnasts! Loads of triumph-over-adversity vignettes in between events! Weird mascots that make no sense whatsoever! Condescending pandering to the "little countries that could" who win bronze in something like canoe slalom or trampoline gymnastics! Mohammed Ali dragged out and propped up to light the torch! Non-stop late-night show jokes about weird-looking aerodynamic leotards! I can't wait!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-<b>Paltrow continues to be an insufferable blowhard!</b> Oh my god, I have been trying not to explode reading about her macrobiotic hangover cures, her "Emmy scrapbook" and the new GOOP app. Prediction: I will continue reading her site even though it makes me have a literal aneurysm every time and will blog incessantly about her pompous vomitings even though my New Year's resolution is to stop masochistically subjecting myself to things I hate.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-<b>RockitQueen becomes a mash-up star!</b> 'Cause I'm dying to mix up "Careless Whispers" with Lords of Acid's "I Must Increase My Bust."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Any additions to make to this list? Sound off, my pretties! And thanks for sticking with me. HUGS!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">XO, RQ</span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-26656288717375456212011-10-06T19:47:00.000-04:002011-10-06T19:47:43.765-04:00Sorority Girls from HELL!!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My new favorite thing ever (thanks, Jason!):</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/YmH5K9SI--0" width="420"></iframe></span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-1155171704064804382011-10-03T20:16:00.000-04:002011-10-03T20:18:30.994-04:00The fish without a bicycle, Part 1<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYReqwL7i7yQu4uzKWydl0dS4YoMA6H3D9n8ef3ixwPpK0FxOQfXaDQlsan6eq2X-INmiJeK_j8uEkLozt9S2gSPLGWDtD2XTZJNOUC-MEIo-pp-6aQGd0N2U2fKpLOLz_LbuutA/s1600/3727972944_705aca4976_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYReqwL7i7yQu4uzKWydl0dS4YoMA6H3D9n8ef3ixwPpK0FxOQfXaDQlsan6eq2X-INmiJeK_j8uEkLozt9S2gSPLGWDtD2XTZJNOUC-MEIo-pp-6aQGd0N2U2fKpLOLz_LbuutA/s200/3727972944_705aca4976_z.jpg" width="142" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>"Can you tell I'm <br />
wearing a pad?"</b></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">'Sup? </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As Stupid & Contagious HQ was in the process of relocating to a bigger and better media complex, a long-forgotten treasure was uncovered from storage. That little piece of awesome is a book entitled <i>Always Ask a Man: Arlene Dahl's Key to Femininity. </i>Yes, Arlene Dahl. I think she was on <i>To Tell the Truth</i> sometimes. But more importantly, she created Lorenzo Lamas.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This book is fucking amazing. Every lady should have one. In fact, girls should get a free copy at the hospital when they're born. Arlene's words of wisdom are <i>that</i> valuable. And in order to really do a deep dive into what it takes to be acceptable in public, I'm going to write about <i>Always Ask a Man</i> in two parts.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The very first page of the book gets right to the brutal point. In a handwritten note with appropriately ladylike handwriting, Arlene says:</span><br />
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</span><br />
<blockquote>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I like men and I like men to like me—so I dress for them. This I used to consider the normal attitude and approach, one I shared with all women. Then not long ago a survey showed me that the average woman doesn't dress to please men at all! She dresses to please herself or other women. That fact shocked me into writing this book.</span></blockquote>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If you've seen <i>Mad Men,</i> you know how scandalous those girls at Sterling Cooper Draper Price can be. And since <i>Always Ask a Man</i> was written in 1965, Arlene was there in person experiencing the horror of a real-life Sterling Cooper Draper Price, where ladies were <i>getting jobs </i>and <i>doing things alone</i> and <i>going on</i> (whispers) <i>The Pill</i>. Hussies... all! Arlene simply did not want to take such carrying-on lying down.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<blockquote>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This book is not intended for women who want to be beautiful for beauty's sake. Such beauty serves no purpose...other than self-satisfaction, if that can be considered a purpose. But if you are a woman who loves to be beautiful for and be loved by a man, I believe this book can help you.</span></blockquote>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Arlene reveals that she has always asked dudes for approval on anything related to beauty and fashion. Dad, for one, always had to offer his stamp of approval. "My father loved the smell of lavender soap, so I always made certain that I used it lavishly before I presented myself to him for a goodnight kiss." Um, ew. Chris Hansen wants Arlene's dad to have a seat right there. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But then it gets worse. "Two heads are usually better than one... I often ask my young son, Lorenzo, for his reaction. Children are always so candid!" Some of you may recall that Lorenzo then went on to use a laser pointer to be judgy with on the short-lived reality wreck <i>Are You Hot? </i>Good thing laser pointers weren't around in 1965 or Arlene might be in a mental institution.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">To drive her point home, Arlene consults some of the legendary male celebrities of the day for their thoughts on chicks. Yul Brynner laughs, "Women are being emancipated out of their femininity in this modern age. The one thing a woman doesn't have to be is logical!" Richard Burton asserts, "They must be completely feminine and faintly giggly." Burt Lancaster opines, "I admire honesty and straightforwardness, combined with true femininity." See a pattern here? The King of Siam doesn't dig butch. Sorry, ladies.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">(Hilariously, she also gets a quote from Tony Perkins, who says, "</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A girl should act like a girl, and not like the head of a corporation—even if she is." Guess Arlene isn't the authority on perfecting your gaydar to avoid embarrassing situations like this!)</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Other pet dislikes from Arlene's showbiz pals include obvious makeup, powder smears on necklines, stray hairs on the shoulders (huh?), table-hopping (<i>huh?</i>) and profanity (oopsie!). Also of vital importance is to never upstage a man. "Never launch loudly into your opinions on a subject...instead, draw out his ideas to which you can gracefully add your footnotes from time to time." Don't try to prove your self-sufficience! Let him order the goddamn wine! (Oopsie again...)</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">At this point, you're starting to realize what a turn-off you are, at least by old-Hollywood standards, and you're wondering what you can do to clean up this tragic mess of a life you've created. Never fear: here comes Arlene to the rescue!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The first tip is stand naked in front of a mirror and rip yourself to shreds. But find some positive stuff, too! Then get rid of everything else. Personality and charm are great, says Arlene, but they're even better when they come in a pretty package. "Your appearance is a yardstick by which others can measure your self-respect." Uh oh. I'm wearing kitty-cat boxer shorts and <i>Night of the Living Dead</i> t-shirt with a big salsa stain on the front. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Is your facial expression pleasant, alert and vital? Or do you look bored, dispirited and disagreeable?" Yikes...strike two.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Do you appear dainty, feminine and well-groomed?" Well, I took a shower...</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Arlene, of course, has plenty of tips on making yourself presentable enough to venture out into society. For one thing, she is a huge advocate of the "slant board," which is apparently a piece of wood that's tipped down at one end. When you lay on it, all the blood rushes to your head. Is that supposed to be good? Arlene says it relieves swollen ankles and gives you a nice flush in the face, but it sounds like a recipe for blood clots and aneurysms to me. But what do I know? </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Another important tip is to be slim. Arlene feels sorry for girls who stuff their faces and "cheat themselves out of health, beauty and romance." She recommends Sophia Loren's diet, which includes about a gallon of black coffee a day, lots of tiny vegetables and "boiled tongue." Excuse me for a minute while I vom. *vom* Ooh, maybe that's the secret to the diet: it's so vile, it turns you bulimic. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When you have had it up to here with the West Beach Coffee n' Tongue Diet, don't race out and blow it all on beer (like I'm doing right now). Remind yourself that as you get skinnier, you're getting "lovelier and more lovable every day!" You're nobody until somebody loves you! Find activities like shopping and hairstyling to take your mind off of food. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If you're not already about to lose your mind keeping track of all these rules, make sure also don't turn into a bag of bones! Nervous women may burn off too many calories with their nervous energy, says Arlene. Stop being nervous and letting being perfect fry your nerves! </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Take advice from Cyd Charisse to gain weight: drink a glass of sherry with a beaten raw egg in it every night. Excuse me for a minute while I vom again. *vom* See, it's working!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Next up: exercise! Arlene recommends walking, but <i>make sure you're walking the way a man likes.</i> Dean Martin exclaims, "A beautiful woman is like a race horse—slim, sleek and with a beautiful carriage." Maybe he really means a beautiful woman is like a horse pulling an Amish carriage—tied up and blinded with a bunch of bearded men staring at her ass. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Even if you're not an outdoor girl, you can still get some exercise with by watching an exercise TV program. "See how much fun it can be to take your instructions from a pleasant male voice against a background of music!" she twitters. Don't forget that these are the days before Billy's Boot Camp and Harvey Walden IV. Try to imagine fluttery little Arlene in her pink leotard, makeup and jazz slippers dropping down to give Harvey 20. Hilarious! And a big no-no because you might work up an unfeminine sweat!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Her "calisthenics" recommendations are even funnier. Swing your arms in circles to reduce your spare tire. Do five wall push-ups to tone legs. Do four sit-ups for your belly (try to work up to 10). "Most women won't exercise because they think of it as something violent," says Arlene's gal pal Rosalind Russell. Roz says she'll never get a big belly because she stands for 20 minutes after every meal and sometimes does stretches. See, ladies, that's all it takes! No need to get all yucky with sweat and make men uncomfortable with kickboxing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Also of vital importance in Arlene's world: lovely, touchable skin. To drive it home, Errol Flynn foams, "A beautiful skin is instantly admired like a Moroccan binding on a rare book or the grain of the wood in a fine piece of furniture." Um, hi, Buffalo Bill. Are we sure he wasn't keeping a Senator's daughter prisoner in his basement "workshop"? Either way, what a weirdo.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Arlene notes the three enemies of beautiful skin: alcohol (shit), crash diets (shit) and excessive sun (shit) and advocates "exercising" the face by pulling and pushing it into all kinds of ridiculous positions. She's also a big proponent of makeup (but not too much, cuz the menz hatez that). Like Arlene says, "There's no such thing as an ugly woman—just those who haven't reached their full potential!" Why don't I believe you, Arlene? Why do I think you're secretly sniffing behind my back that I smell like food and I don't have a chin and that I really need to do something about that muffin top? Why, Arlene??? Why don't I believe???</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I think this would be a good time to end today. Next time: makeup, clothes and a ridiculously detailed look at what your hair color says about YOU. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-53301865051972532652011-10-02T11:49:00.000-04:002011-10-02T11:49:31.491-04:00Rocktoberfest!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Check it out, kids! I'm back with a new(-ish) look for Stupid & Contagious and some kickass new posts, which I will put up this week! </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Thanks for not giving up on me. I'm lazy and I suck. I promise it will be worth the wait.</span></div>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-78782470226691440682011-07-09T15:58:00.000-04:002011-07-09T15:58:29.218-04:00I'm still here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrmfV6RM0VPFUiFRk0J1OAyyURawALhju6XmRc59hr7IBW1IttxqGED40duL_YR5HRd5uF3SZLZOXFzFrPSaM73h_AvrEqNAw7g49iQIZHrcYC5ON8zqfIUictsmI7znj-VP6nA/s1600/i-m-still-here-movie-poster-0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrmfV6RM0VPFUiFRk0J1OAyyURawALhju6XmRc59hr7IBW1IttxqGED40duL_YR5HRd5uF3SZLZOXFzFrPSaM73h_AvrEqNAw7g49iQIZHrcYC5ON8zqfIUictsmI7znj-VP6nA/s200/i-m-still-here-movie-poster-0.jpg" width="185" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Stupid & Contagious HQ is in the process of being moved to bigger and better media complex, thus I have been out of pocket and will be for another week or so. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But never fear, as I will be back very soon with more bitching about a myriad of topics of interest to maybe two people.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In the meantime, keep it real, bitches.</span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-59112965767033946972011-06-20T16:38:00.000-04:002011-06-20T16:38:43.452-04:00Rest in peace, Random HeroPurveyor of the greatest prank and line ("Well, how'd a car toy get...there?") in Jackass history. This is just terribly sad.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/pmOUsfL1WYQ" width="425"></iframe>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-86603141786218130992011-06-08T19:25:00.000-04:002011-06-08T19:35:00.911-04:00The most annoying video of all time<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yes, it involves Paltrow. I'm sorry! But remember when <a href="http://rockitqueen.blogspot.com/2011/04/eat-rich.html">I blogged a couple posts ago about the world's most annoying dinner party,</a> which also involved Gwynnie? And how that story showed those of us outside of Hamptons social circles that Jerry Seinfeld's wife Jessica might be even more haughty, entitled and shitty than Gwyneth? Well, here's video proof. Take a listen and then we'll dissect.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/KIf3khcOfsc" width="560"></iframe></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Once you get past the embarrassing fake British accent moments and Gwynnie's mention of a three-way with Jessica and Jerry, there are a few items of note here. One being that Gwyn is the least annoying person in this video. And Jerry looks like he wants to kill himself through the whole thing. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here are some of the words Jessica uses to describe Gwyneth's cookbook and the profound nuggets of wisdom within: "drop dead gorgeous", "precious", "genius" and "incredible" about five times. She also describes roasted tomatoes as "revolutionary." Hey, Jessica, guess what: here in Ohio, we sometimes GROW OUR OWN TOMATOES. Can you believe it?? And we pick them and roast them, too! And you know what else? We have miles and miles of fields just covered with CORN. And we roast that, too, sometimes! I know, it's hard to believe. And get this: one time, my uncle grew PEANUTS. <i>In the ground</i>. And when we dug them up and roasted them, it was better than revolutionary. It was like a miracle had occurred.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• Speaking of making a big deal out of little shit, Jessica won't shut up about how</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Gwynnie is so "engaged with her kids and her friends" and with her pretentious wine glass while she's cooking and "that's a sign of someone so natural in the kitchen." Well if you're impressed by that, this will blow your mind: I can talk on the phone while I'm guzzling wine and waiting for my Spaghetti-Os to warm up. I'm awesome! Can I have a book deal?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• Jessica has a really pointy, ferret-like face and her haircut makes it look even pointier and more ferret-like. She needs a gay hairdresser immediately. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• Also, what the fuck is she wearing? It's like someone took some '70s-era burnout's van with a galaxy and wizard airbrushed on the side and turned it into a sweater. (And if that's where the pattern really came from, I kind of want one! Do they come in "Old Indian Chief," "Field of Horses" or "Desert Scene"?)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• While we're on the subject of clothes, Seinfeld makes $87 million a year and he still dresses like he did on the show. He's wearing a sweater here, but underneath, you can see that ever-present button down and I bet if you look under the table, he's wearing stonewashed dad jeans and white sneakers. He should be dressing like Don Magic Juan with that kind of money. At least pick up some gold fronts.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• Jerry points out the photo of Gwynnie and her dad on the back of the cookbook and saya she has a "light coming through" in that picture just like she does now and gestures to the picture on the front of the book. That's called Photoshop, Seinfeld. You could give Kim Jong-Il a "pure, happy face" using Photoshop. It's a miracle product.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• Jessica just talks and talks and talks (or tawks and tawks and tawks) about nothing. Just like her husband's show! She throws in a couple of big words to sound smart, but the woman is dumb as a fucking rock and WILL NOT SHUT UP. God, shut up already! I'd rather hear Paltrow talk, if that tells you anything.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• Now after all that yammering, my favorite part of the video features silence. Check out 3:10. Jess starts squawking about the macrobiotic diet and how the plebes don't know what that is and Jerry comments, "I don't!" You'd think he just told everyone he made out during <i>Schindler's List</i> because we get the world's most awkward beat of silence and this exchange:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVNpUs_lOxr5sU7vXTpi6ZF_xv83R0AOf83n8mVbc3uxd9lX_fMvB_CHf75gW_2fzT2SvODguzMzp8l-Rv_0HYbhJVtbw8HTlXQmAiS_RmgOLx7lIl9ViXzdha0CuqyvlgqVFHQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-06+at+7.06.27+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVNpUs_lOxr5sU7vXTpi6ZF_xv83R0AOf83n8mVbc3uxd9lX_fMvB_CHf75gW_2fzT2SvODguzMzp8l-Rv_0HYbhJVtbw8HTlXQmAiS_RmgOLx7lIl9ViXzdha0CuqyvlgqVFHQ/s320/Screen+shot+2011-06-06+at+7.06.27+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Uh-oh! Someone's sleeping in one of the 14 spare bedrooms tonight! What does that look mean?? We can only gleefully speculate. He looks utterly terrified! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Then there's another moment. At 5:54, Jerry starts paging through the cookbook and muses, "I love food pictures!" Reaction:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8zIv31rJCcLCXpZuy_2UcEzD0P7d2RVg1q53LOpW8nIA2xyhGvuB-a7ERDx6rGG7XCpZCVMrNeAfGrJ5v0MA39l401icWi8DEsHCC3C-5QQmBLUwdwe7HFG_Msx-LuIlCEzjP0A/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-06+at+7.07.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8zIv31rJCcLCXpZuy_2UcEzD0P7d2RVg1q53LOpW8nIA2xyhGvuB-a7ERDx6rGG7XCpZCVMrNeAfGrJ5v0MA39l401icWi8DEsHCC3C-5QQmBLUwdwe7HFG_Msx-LuIlCEzjP0A/s320/Screen+shot+2011-06-06+at+7.07.44+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Jessica's thinking, "When the camera shuts off, I'm going to slap the shit out of you, you giant meandering boob." Gwynnie, meanwhile, is still thinking about that three-way.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• Later, at 8:27, Gwyneth does the most uncouth maneuver we've ever seen from her anemic ass. She take a big honking, cruncheriffic bite of a piece of volcanic rock or something. What the fuck<i> is</i> that? It was like that old SNL <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5kE0MY4nYs">Quarry Cerea</a>l fake commercial. I mean, I guess rocks are natural so it probably fits into Gwyn's everything-free diet.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So at the end, Jessica has a Final Thought to share with viewers, and that is to take a moment to pick up a copy of this incredible cookbook because you'll learn a lot about a special, incredible person everyone on earth deserves to know. Take that back, Jess! Only lucky people get to know the likes of you and Gwyneth. Extravagant people. Luxurious people. People who can gnaw on something crunchy like a great dane ripping into a rawhide bone and not be given the side-eye.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'm sorry I had to cover this today. I hope I didn't ruin your evening!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-65817511342703189822011-05-15T15:44:00.001-04:002011-05-15T15:45:12.202-04:00How do you screw up a documentary called Nazi Pop Twins?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkkBbsyENjBGyUGgN_xiXwuOuYqRGk1AagVmOoOWVVrlkG9IMkgc8W9Kqp7Z9Yos60FaZYMlrYmL1KOQDcIG4MXInTOgPF-RtzLOUSMrdGRnutMFMrUb-tasVcnungo9qOnb8wjw/s1600/nazipoptwinsya5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkkBbsyENjBGyUGgN_xiXwuOuYqRGk1AagVmOoOWVVrlkG9IMkgc8W9Kqp7Z9Yos60FaZYMlrYmL1KOQDcIG4MXInTOgPF-RtzLOUSMrdGRnutMFMrUb-tasVcnungo9qOnb8wjw/s200/nazipoptwinsya5.jpg" width="170" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not as awesome as you <br />
might think.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When I discovered that there existed in the world a documentary about our favorite racist imps <a href="http://rockitqueen.blogspot.com/2006/09/like-omigod-heinrich-himmler-is-sooooo.html">Lynx and Lamb Gaede,</a> I nearly wet myself with excitement. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And when I discovered said documentary was entitled <i>Nazi Pop Twins</i>, I did wet myself and nearly soiled myself, too. Imagine: a full hour of embarrassing caterwauling from the twins' band Prussian Blue and whining about persecution from white power stage mom April.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Well, I finally watched what should have been cinema gold. It was kind of a let-down. Let me recap and you can see for yourself </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">(spoiler alert!).</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; line-height: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">The movie kicks off with a little introduction to the Gaedes. One of the twins is shown saying, "B</span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">lacks have the more tendency [sic] to rape people" and April is filmed reading the ABCs with her (admittedly adorable) youngest child Dresden (yes, really). Of course, with April, A stands for </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Aryan</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> and B stands for </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Blood.</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> At least it won't be difficult to find an example word for X in April's alphabet.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Next we have the pleasure of meeting April's dad, Bill, who looks like he might be the black sheep sibling of Santa Claus and is wearing suspenders over a t-shirt. Bill is shown buying an M-16 military assault rifle, which I'm sure is illegal. He claims Mexicans had sex with his mare (he says he's personally shot six "muds") and marks his cattle with swastika brands. You can practically smell the flop sweat, Copenhagen and wolf piss through the screen.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">April holds up one of the infamous Hitler smiley-face baby tees Lynx and Lamb were photographed wearing years ago and says she doesn't understand why people didn't think they were "hysterically funny." April is practically giddy talking about all the media attention the t-shirts and the girls got. She's a gigantic sloppy frump, but she swears she's not living vicariously through her kids.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">At the radio interview, the girls look to April for cues on how to answer the DJ's questions before saying things like "illegals act nasty and they don't throw their toilet paper in the toilet." I've got news for you, girls: that's a universal issue. Based on the bathrooms I've been in lately, it seems like hipsters in particular have the same problem.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Soon, we start to see the tiny cracks that are forming in the little white utopia April seems to think she's created for her family. Lynx and Lamb are actually much more normal than I expected, and when they think April is asleep, they share their reservations about their white power lifestyle with the filmmakers. Hmmm, now this is starting to get good!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Actually, now it starts to get really, really ooky. The girls are shown talking on the phone with their pen pal David Lane, a white nationalist leader who is serving a 190-year prison sentence (you read that right) for killing a Jewish radio show host. Just the kind of guy you'd want your teenage daughters befriending, right? It quickly becomes evident that April has managed to score some kind of esteem with David by pimping out the girls to him. Over the phone, David says "I better be careful what I say, but right away I thought of Lynx and Lamb and their blue eyes. They were like daughters, fantasy sweethearts." Oh god, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, yucky, icky, shower, shower, shower! Bleeechhhh! When April hands Dresden the phone to say hi, I vomited on the TV and had to go by a new one to finish watching the movie. Luckily, David Lane is now dead, so the girls are safe from at least one letch for the time being.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Next up, we're treated to a "branding party" at Bill Gaede's ranch and this is where everything really starts to go south. April is policing the filmmakers and making it very clear they shouldn't speak to her mother, Dianne. When they get Dianne alone, it's clear why. She says, "A</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">ll because if this goddamn nazi shit, it's just fucking ruined my life. It really fucks you up. We've lived here 30 years and I don't have a single friend because he's so hateful. My kids are just torn apart by it. Not April—she loves it." Awesome! I love grannies who cuss!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tensions are reaching a fever pitch all around. While having lunch at a cafe, April starts yammering about her "vision" for the girls' next music video, but Lynx and Lamb are in no mood to be managed. "A lot of people think we're a bunch of psychos!" one whines. "We want to take a break!" April opines that the new music isn't pushing the nazi agenda. Who does she think she is...Stacey Keach?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, a bomb is dropped. Bill reveals that April was once attacked and almost raped by a black man. This was back when she had big dreams of becoming a rodeo commentator. The truth comes out! Luckily, Dianne has higher hopes and bigger plans for Lynx and Lamb. She interviews that she and the twins have made a plan that when they turn 18, they'll get a car and all go up the California coast together and look for a place to live. Shit, this is really sad! Dianne says she wouldn't put it past her husband to kill her. Cripes! Let's all band together to save Dianne!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">At this point, it's evident that April and Bill are completely nuts and grandma and the girls are living under an iron thumb and they want to crawl out. If the filmmakers would have run with this storyline, the doc would have been a winner. But instead, much like the SVU squad, they start getting too close to the case, as you'll soon see.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Lynx and Lamb are performing their new songs in a bar and they're pretty bad, but they're singing the material that isn't pushing the white power agenda and are pretty warmly received by the crowd. April starts going around the bar passing out Prussian Blue CDs. Then she starts saying things like, "'The Stranger' is about wanting to be around your own people," and the patrons start to see what's going on. With "P</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">aul Revere" thumping in the background, the Gaedes are kicked out of the bar. April screams that people are intolerant and the girls scream at her to shut up. "The media is so biased about white pride, people—even rednecks in a bar—are scared shitless," April foams. "They've castrated the white race." Lynx and Lamb are clearly embarrassed. And I'm suddenly reminded of how RockitPop always yelled, "Meet me in the Sears hardware section at 1 p.m. or I'm coming to find you!" in front of everyone at the mall. It was really embarrassing and sort of like this. Only not racist.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, say you're a white power stage mom and your two blonde, teenage meal tickets are starting to think you're a big douchey weirdo and are pulling away from you, thus potentially crushing your dreams of being famous like David Duke. What do you do? </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Why, what anyone in any classic abusive relationship would do, of course: move to Montana!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Six months after the bar debacle, that's exactly what April did. But it wasn't a quiet transition; local news caught wind that the infamous Gaedes were moving to their small town and protesters came out in full force. April bitches that people went door to door warning that nazis were in the neighborhood. The FBI got involved because people were making death threats against the family. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Of course, instead of just keeping her mouth shut for once, April uses the community backlash as a chance to showcase herself as a martyr again. It's April versus the Big Sky State now! And the more the twins pull away, the more April tries to make Prussian Blue happen. She shows off all the merchandise she's had printed up: Prussian Blue mugs, mousepads with Dresden's picture on them (um, ew!), white pride rubber bracelets. And, like any self-respecting enemy of the people, she starts broadcasting a whiny radio show from her home. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Meanwhile, Lynx and Lamb are really starting to go sideways. One even says, "I'm not a white nationalist. The whole issue made me smarter and think about stuff more before you say it and do it." The even discuss a Martin Luther King Day project they did at school that made them feel guilty about their home lives.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">April forces the girls to autograph Prussian Blue posters and they are vehemently resisting. "Put on a happy face and be nice," April blasts. "Then you can act like as much of a cunt as you want for the rest of the night!" Jeez, testy! And I hate to say it, but I'm actually starting to like the twins!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">April starts to blame the documentary crew for putting ideas in the girls' heads and causing them to lash out at her. "Y</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">ou're such a self-hating white person," she yells at the filmmakers. "You suffer from white guilt. You're very manipulative with that fake British accent!" </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This could be the best part of the movie. But instead, it all falls to shit when the director starts sniping back at April. "T</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">he more people that hate you, the happier you seem to be," he says in his fake British accent. Now they are all fighting and yelling at each other.Take a time out, Detective Stabler! Too close to the case!! But now, the twins are crying about the Hitler t-shirts, saying they thought it was a joke at the time, but they threw them away and never wore them again. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Back in California, more chaos is erupting. Bill Gaede confronts Dianne about her interviews and she screams that YES she told them how she felt and, goddamn it, she really enjoyed it! Bill says semi-threateningly to the camera, "I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> hope you guys don't try to destroy us so you can get a decent little story." Bill and Dianne continue their shouting match in the driveway, and then...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Cut!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yep, that's it. April and Bill refuse to let the film crew back for anymore interviews. We come to find out later that April's husband (Dresden's dad and the twins' stepfather) left her during the filming of the documentary. Certainly he didn't want to be part of the project, because he's nowhere to be seen or even mentioned. The twins' father has come out against the racist ideologies April spews, and it appears that the girls, now legal adults, have taken their father's last name and are living apart from April. Filmmakers, can we now get a follow-up, since the girls can make up their own minds about what they want to do? It might make up for the slappy fight that put an end to the original story. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I found a <a href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/5540264/the_children_of_hate_grow_up_lamb_and.html?cat=9&com=2#comments">somewhat recent article</a> that says Lynx and Lamb are now into Buddhism and TM. I'll keep an eye out and see if these two pop up online anywhere, because it might be interesting (and heartening) to see what they're up to now that they don't have to report to psycho April anymore. Maybe they really are living on the coast in a secret location with Grandma Dianne! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyway, maybe I'm being too hard on the documentary. What do you think? Check it out for yourself (for free!) <a href="http://video.google.nl/videoplay?docid=1256834677424104633#">right here, bitches.</a></span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-87281614232873026822011-04-18T20:33:00.003-04:002011-04-18T23:38:45.628-04:00Eat the rich<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-sSU5xh_vMcxXHyOvz5jYI83WzrOTacnBjFZjxoEI_IMRHTG2OhJF08sTajJgWwBlAWedsHnio51CeVSLdfqgr4DrXounNL5KAGrUVqRCEcOwzoE15NxbOly-4TkTzQYUeFnvA/s1600/1218tilley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-sSU5xh_vMcxXHyOvz5jYI83WzrOTacnBjFZjxoEI_IMRHTG2OhJF08sTajJgWwBlAWedsHnio51CeVSLdfqgr4DrXounNL5KAGrUVqRCEcOwzoE15NxbOly-4TkTzQYUeFnvA/s1600/1218tilley.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have you ever wanted to <br />
kick a cartoon's ass?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I really, really, really, really don't want to write about Gwyneth again. But what Gwynnie wants, Gwynnie gets. And she obviously wants me to keep writing about her because she keeps topping herself with stupider and stupider shit.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So with that we have another edition of lifestyles of privileged and assy, starring GP and her famous friends. ld;skfhjkhnmdjfhklwejn...oh, sorry, I just vomited and passed out for a minute on my keyboard. Get ready to do the same.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You may have seen our pretty, pretty princess in the news a lot lately. That's because she's bestowed more of her valuable Secrets to Life upon us vassals in the form of a cookbook entitled <i>My Father's Daughter: Delicious, Easy Recipes Celebrating Family & Togetherness.</i> "In the last 10 years or so, cooking has become my main ancillary passion in life," she gushes in the introduction. Annoying us all by way of GOOP isn't enough for this woman. No, she must come at us from all angles: the television, the movie screen, the computer, Books-A-Million... she won't be satisfied until we see her in our sleep like a specter or incubus cackling manically and quoting Shakespeare. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>The New Yorker's</i> <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/talk/2011/04/25/110425ta_talk_widdicombe">recent profile</a> of GOOPy will give you a little glimpse of what that nightmare might look like (Come to think of it, she should divorce Chris and marry Eustace Tilley, that cartoon prick that serves as <i>The New Yorker's</i> mascot. They could polish their monocles, eat Italian truffles and sniff haughtily about the gauche bourgeoisie.)</span><br />
<blockquote><blockquote>It’s tough for some people to accept Gwyneth Paltrow’s transformation from movie star to domestic goddess. Something about the combination of her willowy looks, her glam life style (she is married to Chris Martin, the Coldplay front man), and the unlikely food tips in her e-mail newsletter, Goop—“I was stationed at the deep fat fryer (Delight! Fried zucchini! Fried anchovies!)”—produces cognitive dissonance. </blockquote></blockquote><div class="descender" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">OK, I already want to begin slowly sawing away at my eyelids with a cheese grater. Being married to Chris Martin, the Coldplay front man, makes her <i>glam</i>? That's like saying soysage is glam. </span><br />
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<blockquote>Paltrow, who was hosting a dinner party to celebrate her publication, was not yet drinking, but she had a glow.... Dinner guests included people who do know her: Jay-Z, Cameron Diaz, Alex Rodriguez, the Seinfelds, and assorted food-world worthies. Most guests saw nothing unusual about getting cooking advice from a stick-thin actress; in fact, many said that they associated Gwyneth Paltrow with food. Mario Batali, in pink cargo shorts, was talking to Ruth Reichl. “She eats like a truck driver,” he said of Paltrow. He recalled being in Valencia, Spain, and “watching her eat an entire pan of paella as big as a manhole cover.” Michael Stipe added, “Once, a duck she was cooking caught fire, and she threw it in the pool.”</blockquote></div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh, pa-hahahahahaha! Michael Stipe, do tell us again about the time Gwyneth tossed the flaming duck into the pool! Muffy, Wilhelm, you realllllly must hear this delightful story! I could hear it a thousand times and still laugh and laugh! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Seriously, can you imagine anything worse than being at a party with Mario Batali in pink cargo shorts and Michael Stipe telling some "amusing" anecdote about a Gwyneth Paltrow and a flaming duck? I mean, I want to think of something funny that could be worse, but I can't. That is as bad as it gets. That can't even be called a party; it's Dante's purgatory. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oh, wait a minute...it <i>can</i> get worse. God help us.</span><br />
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<blockquote>Christy Turlington looked on. “We are lucky in that we have been the recipients of many meals with Gwyneth Paltrow,” she said, and mentioned a stuffed-lobster dish that Paltrow and Martin had served in Amagansett. “They do everything themselves, including the killing of the lobster,” she said. “It’s not the boiling-in-the-pot-and-screaming lobster thing. It’s a different, faster approach. I could never do it.”</blockquote></div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Was there ever a more perfect time for a recreation of Waco? </span></div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><blockquote><blockquote>A financier at the party said that he associated Paltrow with scungilli: “My family and I were conch-diving down in the Bahamas. They’d cook the conch right there on the beach. And they had a TV in the little hut there, and that’s where I watched the Oscars this year.” </blockquote></blockquote></div><div class="cartoon" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Readers, I could start railing about how people are starving in the world, how people in Japan are struggling to pull their lives back together, how just 60 cents a day could buy condensed milk for an entire village. But you don't need me to appeal to your sense of compassion to realize these entitled, self-important tallywhackers need to take their conch-diving and little beach huts with TVs and go fuck themselves. God!</span><br />
<blockquote><blockquote>At 9 p.m., the guests went out to a pair of long tables on the terrace. Diaz, A-Rod, and Batali sat near Chris Martin, who had arrived looking cranky. (A publicist warned, “He doesn’t want to talk.”) Paltrow sat a few seats away, flanked by Jerry Seinfeld and Jay-Z. (The next day, she and the rapper posted reciprocal interviews on their websites. Paltrow: “I could sing to you every single word of N.W.A’s ‘Fuck tha Police.’ ”) </blockquote></blockquote></div></div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is another portion of the story that intends to make us all think Gwynnie is cool and hip. She's down with N.W.A. and Jay-Z. Are they really fooling anybody here? Cripes, if Jay-Z had any kind of street cred left (hint: he doesn't, but let's pretend), it all went bye-bye when (a.) he dined with Seinfeld at Gwyneth's, and (b.) he interviewed Gwyneth on his website. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And Chris Martin cranky? I don't believe it! I thought that frosty, ostentatious demeanor was all just part of his big, rich rock star persona and he's really a happy-go-lucky guy.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Just kidding. Chris Martin is a total dick.</span><br />
<blockquote>Paltrow announced the menu: roasted red peppers with anchovies, escarole salad, pasta with duck ragout. Jessica Seinfeld made a toast: “There is no one who is more comfortable or more capable in the kitchen, naturally, than you,” she said to Paltrow. “I don’t know how you do it.” She turned to the assembled guests. “And you are all so lucky to be part of Gwyneth’s world. Because this is the real deal. And she’s invited all of you good people in here. I would never do that.”</blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Um, haha? Guests, Jessica Seinfeld just said would never have all you filthy animals dropping your cooties all over <i>her</i> kitchen like Gwyneth does. Is it possible there is someone at this meeting of the minds who is more priggish than the hostess? Ooh, maybe I should start blogging about little Jessi S. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Despite what Mrs. Seinfeld says, not everyone at the monster's ball felt lucky to be a part of Gwyneth's world.</span><br />
<blockquote>Wendi Murdoch, sitting nearby, had said that she is a reader of Paltrow’s blog: “Only one thing comes to mind—healthy and organic.” She listed her favorite recipes: “Pumpkin soup, grilled market vegetables. It’s good. I get my chef to cook it.” </blockquote><blockquote>“But you’re directing the chef,” Kelly Behun, a friend of Murdoch’s, interjected. Behun, an interior designer, was the only guest who didn’t have a Paltrow-related food memory. </blockquote><blockquote>“Gwyneth?” she said. “When I see her, I don’t think of food.”</blockquote></div><div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">OK, I don't throw around the C-word too much, but it really is the only appropriate description here. This party has officially made the <i>Guiness Book</i> for having the largest gathering of cunts per capita in the world. Congratulations! Ug, what a bunch of vapid snobs! It's like the rich kids in an John Hughes movie, but real. They may as well be carrying opera glasses and discussing junk bonds. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What would have made this story better is if the duck caught on fire again, except this time Gwynnie throws it on Michael Stipe. Because of all the acrylic hair, the fire spreads quickly. And then the sprinkler system comes on, but it malfunctions and showers everyone with electricity. And then Eazy E's ghost drives by in an Impala and sprays the whole group with AK-47 bullets and they all die screaming in a pile of linen, summer-weight cashmere and burnt anchovies.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">God, I'm so annoyed by this article. I think I'm having an aneurysm. sdf;lkj;eklrmn,n;glkad;m</span></div>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-78975899652793020912011-04-01T19:24:00.001-04:002011-04-01T19:25:23.077-04:00Pretty hate machine<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Due to a recurring midlife crisis, posting around here has been scant. Did anyone even notice? If you did, please indicate this in the comments. I need validation.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWs-c6wV-1NCN9NSx7AkZJpdCSb_r1g6LO-rVok3iS6VO-CBqGN8N6lAEY0GprFAlA-6psnxGA1ndym-cuWvJjPkqdBDafIKO297CEOvxo1hRfHWJpQxPC7FtuWFL9mmQ947nFw/s1600/Mr_Horse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWs-c6wV-1NCN9NSx7AkZJpdCSb_r1g6LO-rVok3iS6VO-CBqGN8N6lAEY0GprFAlA-6psnxGA1ndym-cuWvJjPkqdBDafIKO297CEOvxo1hRfHWJpQxPC7FtuWFL9mmQ947nFw/s200/Mr_Horse.jpg" width="123" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Anyhoo, in between watching SVU episodes I've seen 50 times already (but no Michael Pitt episode! Why don't they ever rerun that one?), drinking and brooding, I've spent a lot of my valuable free time surfing the web. This activity has opened up a whole new world of feeling inadequate. I hate it when other bloggers think of funny things to write about before I do. We all know that hasn't kept me from stealing ideas before, but I have this ongoing dream of being a blog topic pioneer. Let's be realistic: nothing is original anymore. So I say fuck it.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'm going to steal today's subject from the blog I'm the most jealous of this week: <a href="http://www.youjustmademylist.com/">You Just Made My List.</a> Wanna know what I did last weekend? Read this website. Every single post. And alternated laughing my head off and turning Hulk green with insane jealousy. Why haven't I thought to write about my abject hatred for comedy troupe photos? Every week, the C-bus free papers run ads for the city's most prolific "performance troupe." I was under the impression that this group only did screwball comedy routines, because every ad and billboard features ak-toors in goofy costumes hanging all over each other and making wacky faces. I guess these ads are supposed to make me laugh or want to come and see their performance, but really just make me want to swallow battery acid. It's like those obnoxious theater kids in high school who were always "on," only they stayed that way into adulthood. And they're still far less funny than they think they are.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So anyway, I thought I'd list a few things I hate, in honor of You Just Made My List.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>The teaser links on Yahoo! homepage stories</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The following appeared on Yahoo! today:</span><br />
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<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Big-name actor cast as John Gotti</b></span><b> </b></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">An Italian-American star is set to</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">play the Dapper Don in a film about his</span></blockquote><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">family's troubles <i>> Gotti Jr. approves</i></span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I can't explain it, but that three-word teaser text line at the very end completely enrages me. There are only three lines of description text here. Why not just add three more words into the text and make the headline the only link? Oh wait, I know why: because people are stupid and they might not realize the headline is the link! Plus, the lowest common denominator can only digest sentences of 15 words or less before their heads explode. (In case you're wondering, Travolta is playing Gotti, which is totally hilarious.)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here's another example from this week:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><blockquote><b>Chatty twin babies become Web sensations</b></blockquote><blockquote>These two brothers carry on an excited</blockquote><blockquote>conversation—but only they know what it's</blockquote><blockquote>about. <i>> Watch their hand gestures</i></blockquote></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">First of all, I made it through about five seconds of that video before wanting to rip my toenails out. The "excited conversation" consists of the babies looking at each other and babbling incoherently. Babies talk to mirrors. And the "hand gestures" Yahoo! is trying to lure us in with consists of a kid holding a hand out and sometimes flapping it. Not cute, not funny, NOT WORTH WASTING THREE-QUARTERS OF A LINE OF TEXT FOR.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What's even worse is when the teaser link text lures me into the story. How can I not click when they taunt me with "See her bad hair" or "Cat duet?" Fuckers.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>People who use astrology to explain shitty behavior</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Scorpios are feisty and tell it like it is!" Translation: I insult everyone I come in contact with under the guise of "keeping it real." Get it? They're scorpions! Geminis are moody—they have two sides, like Jekyll and Hyde! Capricorns are controlling—because goats are assholes! Leos have self-control issues! So it's not really their fault when they murder your whole family and made wind chimes out of their bones!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">U<b>sing "ask" as a noun</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Fellow corporate whores, back me up on this. Ask is not a fucking noun. Ask is a verb. You don't have an "ask," you have a question. And when you say you have an ask, I have a sudden urge to broadside you with Merriam-Webster's 11th edition (it's heavier than the 10th).</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><i>The Real Housewives' </i>children's names</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There's no question that everyone who has ever appeared on any incarnation of this show is about as stable an escaped mental patient. So it's really not surprising that people who think they're better than everyone else would name their kids things like Capri, London, Kairo, François, Kennedy, Mason (girl), Brielle, Ryley (boy) and Colton. But who am I to talk? My kids are named Constantinople Djibouti, Millard Fillmore and Lynyrd Madysyn Skynyrd. And they're all girls.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><i>Cigar Aficionado</i></b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Why, hello there! I was just polishing my dinosaur egg and didn't see you come in! Pleased to meet you. I'm the editor of an obscure little digest I like to call <i>Cigar Aficionado. </i>Ha ha, just kidding—it's not obscure. Everyone knows <i>CigAf!</i> Every two months, our cover features an A-list celeb (and Jim Belushi for some reason) with a just-barely-lit cigar poised lovingly between the first and middle finger, Photoshopped smoke curling around the smarmiest expression they can possibly muster. Inside, you'll find titillating prose on such topics as truffle hunting in Piedmont, cashmere socks and silver humidors. If you'd like a subscription, we ask that you make it on your black card so we know you're worthy of reading our journal of sophistication. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go count my Astin Martins. Ta-ta! (Actually, I have no idea if this magazine is really as pretentious as it looks. All I know is the sight of it makes me want to push the magazine racks at Barnes & Noble until they fall like so many dominoes.)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Nerdy teens asking for dates via video</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There's an onslaught of these lately and I blame G<i>lee. </i>Has this happened on <i>Glee?</i> I've never seen it. Anyway, why does everyone fawn all over these things? They're creepy! Hi, I'm going to <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/video/hs-student-serenades-desired-prom-date-13264803">sing an original song I wrote for you to ask you to prom</a>—and I'm videotaping it in the hopes it will go viral and I can go on <i>Good Morning America. </i>You can come, too, and sit next to me looking really uncomfortable. You couldn't say no unless you want to be harassed by bloodthirsty strangers online! Strongarming at its best. People, stop rewarding this behavior, unless you really, really want to see a rise in school shootings.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Blogger's new web editor</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Wondering why the layout of this post looks particularly shitty today? It's because I had to redo it about 10 times because of Blogger's stupid fucking new, "improved" web editor. WYSIWYG, my ass. What I see is NOT what I get! There are huge gaps between each paragraph. I wanted the text to be white, not HIGHLIGHTED! The <i>Cigar Aficionado </i>header kept disappearing. When I looked in the HTML, there were about 900 spaces randomly showing up. I hope you like that picture—it took about two fucking hours to place it. I hate you, new Blogger. I hate you and your ass face!</span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-87813745168259281682011-03-06T17:18:00.000-05:002011-03-06T17:18:34.886-05:00Not recommended for a drunken rampage<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Funniest Amazon review ever.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>JL421 Badonkadonk Land Cruiser/Tank</b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPjeDtQRpjZcqyLordwV4G-OS2DoeeEQ7LS6uAUGifAS7uYamGLDrKi94KbpmDw0ytQHQ-CeWm-FFv6PxQq1oNM9cb5mJ51MApYuw1bVW8mg2t628ABdfaZfQiH-kuZXTWWTqIw/s1600/51FBH0ARF2L._SS400_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPjeDtQRpjZcqyLordwV4G-OS2DoeeEQ7LS6uAUGifAS7uYamGLDrKi94KbpmDw0ytQHQ-CeWm-FFv6PxQq1oNM9cb5mJ51MApYuw1bVW8mg2t628ABdfaZfQiH-kuZXTWWTqIw/s200/51FBH0ARF2L._SS400_.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">If I had it to do over again, I'd leave my insurance settlement money under my matress a while longer instead of spendin it on one of these things. A Badonkadonk ... more like a Badonkajunk.</span><br />
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I bought one of these Donks 'cause I thought the cops wouldn't hastle me in it. Since it aint road legal I figured it wouldn't matter that I don't got a driver's license anymore (It's that kinda "outa the box" thinkin that's got me where I am in life). I figured when the cops said "Billy, you know you aint supposed to be drivin a car anymore" I could say "I aint drivin a car, I'm drivin a Donk" and then crank up "Freebird" on my 400 Watt stereo as I lay down a thick patch of rubber with the 6hp fire-breathin power plant and maybe let out a rebel yell as I go up on 2 wheels and squeeze between the 2 squad cars they had set up as a road block. Then when they pulled out their guns and tried to stop me the bullets would just rikoshay off my trusty Donk as I glance matter-of-factly into the rear view mirror and flick the ash off my Marlboro in symbolic contempt of the agressors what I had just thwarted.<br />
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Nothin was further from the truth though: I had just stayed late over at my sister trailer and was fixin to head back across the court to my trailer. I will admit that I had been drinkin, but her trailer was just a few loops over from mine and it was after 3AM so I figured I weren't gonna hurt nobody, especially in the old "Donk". As chance would have it, I just happened to be wearing various article of my sister's clothing and started to recognize the familiar smell of MacDonnald french fries. As I turned the corner into my own loop, the smell was unmistakable ... as was the conclusion that I deducticated in my mind ... my sister had been gettin cozy with that retard Lucas Tubbs who works the MacDonnald's drive through.<br />
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Well, I have to tell you I became engorged with rage! I whipped the old Donker around and started headin for MacDonnalds to show ol' Tubbs what I thought of him sneakin around my sis. I only made it as far as the trailer park entrance though, cause I got high-centered on the speed bump there. Folks tell me that I crawled on top of the Donkster and started yellin obsenities at that point, but to be honest I don't recall that part. It must have been true though because the police showed up very quickly. When I saw the squad car, I scurried back into the Donk, locked the hatch, started up the engine, and floored it! It was the right thing to do because, in their vain effort to extracticate me from my vehicular conveyance, the cops jumped on the roof of the Donk tipping the balance just far enough that the wheels grabbed hold and I was able to get off of the speed bump. Hot pursuit was on!<br />
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The cops' squad car must have malfunctioned because the officers proceded to pursue me on foot. By the time I got to Main Street I had a comfortable lead on them. I turned South, as that was the proper mode of direction to arrive at the MacDonnalds. At that point my drunken rage peaked and I knew what I had to do to save my families honor: I was gonna crash my tank into the MacDonnalds drive through! I rev'ed up the engine and floored it! As I got closer and closer, I could see ol' 'tardy Tubbs' face paint a life-size portrait of confusion on a tattered canvas of fear and surprise. I thought to myself "All will be made right again" as I flew by the intercom, scraping sparks of anger and bitterness as I careened past. I was overjoyed to see that, even though he had plenty of time to see me coming and move out of the way, ol' 'tardy Tubbs was still in my direct line-of-flight. I braced for impact as the Donk hit the order window plexiglass, bounced off, and rolled over on its side. I must have hit my head on the pivoting control stick because I blacked out momentarily. I awoke to the sound of my tiny wheels spinning madly at 40 miles per hour. With my battle tank inoperable, my hopes of even slightly inconveniencing Lucas Tubbs dashed, and my sister's fine clothes soiled with sweat and blood, I had no choice left but to piss myself and start flailing my arms and legs madly.<br />
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The police that had been pursuing me arrived moments later. I do not agree with their assessment that I was a danger to myself and others, but I don't recall that part of the evenning very well so I can't say for sure. Either way, I don't think the use of the Tazer was justified. However, I now have lawsuits outstanding against MacDonnalds for faulty drive through design, the manufacturer of the Tazer, and the local police. One of these suits needs to pay out to replace the money from the insurance settlement and pay the court mandated restitution to MacDonnalds and the local police. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In the end, I blame all my problems on the Donk. I hope they have good insurance. I'm comin for them next. </span><br />
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</span>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-70797737897286725032011-02-28T00:34:00.000-05:002011-02-28T00:34:34.544-05:00Umm....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Holy fucking shit!!!!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfKcfvZTbX2V6lRE-EMj-b_Ou-6JJCUrl67aLru7FUPQi_s6Ti5kek9-8rXXyhFKMSY_iKmAGq7JuFlBqvmoma7ZCb4UTZ8DOlFpT_rUJizAvR8vNz7FytMVExb971ovI-PH_tw/s1600/trent-atticus-2011-a-l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGfKcfvZTbX2V6lRE-EMj-b_Ou-6JJCUrl67aLru7FUPQi_s6Ti5kek9-8rXXyhFKMSY_iKmAGq7JuFlBqvmoma7ZCb4UTZ8DOlFpT_rUJizAvR8vNz7FytMVExb971ovI-PH_tw/s320/trent-atticus-2011-a-l.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-81541983762578022602011-02-14T20:54:00.000-05:002011-02-14T20:54:21.706-05:00Happy Norwegian Black Metal Day!<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ4gFfMb3aql5tvsS94760F_UL0qWFVpUNw1qqZQfDMv4En3BlFWd1o0YE2KGvDJLd6kGxNJ9trCQNOr0JbIQm4aph3UJ4MJGW42-JwPTirIsTy_eO7lXb67IYSCWYvdKIQns94Q/s1600/immortal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ4gFfMb3aql5tvsS94760F_UL0qWFVpUNw1qqZQfDMv4En3BlFWd1o0YE2KGvDJLd6kGxNJ9trCQNOr0JbIQm4aph3UJ4MJGW42-JwPTirIsTy_eO7lXb67IYSCWYvdKIQns94Q/s320/immortal.jpg" width="278" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We're waiting for you at home. </span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Naked.</span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Love, Immortal</span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20639649.post-16565942705198152732011-01-18T23:06:00.001-05:002011-01-18T23:14:05.737-05:00Who has the tougher day: Gwyneth Paltrow or the Dukes?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXsF-aSChbwazMkVRK7NMrGA86kJKKhPHUO9eN0a5eIapQ7xhND1vqeoTj2xWB5k9vo20_B4U-TKqUvKHnJ5N5pcK-kbKXcr1S-COfsDGUMYzgpkJW3TpOJ03OdnUvqVTmWahhKA/s1600/Dukes+of+Hazzard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXsF-aSChbwazMkVRK7NMrGA86kJKKhPHUO9eN0a5eIapQ7xhND1vqeoTj2xWB5k9vo20_B4U-TKqUvKHnJ5N5pcK-kbKXcr1S-COfsDGUMYzgpkJW3TpOJ03OdnUvqVTmWahhKA/s200/Dukes+of+Hazzard.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That pasty, elitist bag-of-wank Paltrow is at it again in her latest STOOP newsletter. This time she's caused a bit of an uproar in the blogosphere for a recent write-up on "finding a good balance between having a career and being a mom." I think you can probably guess where this one goes. Yep, more oblivious rumination on how difficult it is to manage two-hour workouts, an army of assistants, dress fittings and eating lettuce leaves (organic only!)...all with two pretentiously-named kids in the other room with the nanny.</span><br />
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</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I can just imagine what a day in the life of Chez Paltrow is like. Can't you just see her tooting on a little whistle like the Captain in <i>The Sound of Music</i> and the children (and Chris) tripping down the stairs to line up for "inspection"? She'd primly inspect their school uniforms for wrinkles, check behind their ears and then force a sheepish Apple to spit a covert wad of chewing gum into her hand. After pausing to ratchet up the tension, she'd declare, "All right, off, off with you. Don't be late for the driver to take you to school," then turn to the housekeeper and huff, "Lupe, when I return from chakra balance power pilates, I expect the pantry to be perfectly appointed with all labels facing FRONT. Make that mistake again, and the heat in the servants' quarters will be turned off again." Then, she'd spin on her heel and make her grand exit.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Who does this bitch think she is? It's not like she spends her days dodging cops, greedy bankers and criminals in black sedans. She doesn't have a ridge-runnin' past she needs to live down every day of her life. Not only that, she never has to pause mid-activity for the voice of Waylon Jennings to narrate what kind of trouble she's gotten herself into now. That's right: life in the whimsically chaotic world of Gwyneth Patrow doesn't hold a candle to the day in the rip-roarin', rum-runnin' life of one of those Hazzard County Duke boys. Let's just take a sneak peek for a little compare-and-contrast. <i>Note: I copied the Gwynnie portions directly from her stupid newsletter, so the atrocious grammar, punctuation errors and sentence fragments are all her (thanks, Spence!).</i></span><br />
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<b>Gwynnie:</b> Got Apple all fed and dressed in her uniform and ready to go but no sign nor sight of Moses at 8 am and we have to be out of the house by 8:20. I went up to arouse the little man from slumber and he quite happily got up and crawled into my arms. We got downstairs and I made him a quick breakfast of eggs and toast followed by a spoonful of lemon flavored flax oil that I try to remember to give them both every morning.<br />
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<b>Bo & Luke:</b> After a breakfast of bacon, eggs, grits, hash, biscuits, pancakes, sausage, gravy and syrup, the boys prepare for a day of driving around in the General Lee. Unfortunately, they're almost immediately caught speeding by Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane. The boys kick up some dust and finally lose Roscoe's tail by jumping over a semi carrying a load of outhouses. (Roscoe also made the jump, but didn't miss the outhouses).<br />
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<b>Gwynnie:</b> I dodged off as fast as possible but was still late to the 9 am workout. Did dance aerobics for 45 minutes then all of the butt lifts and the like. Rushed upstairs to have a shower, doing my post workout stretch while the conditioner was doing its magic on my hair to combine activities/save time.<br />
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<b>Bo & Luke:</b> It's hotter than a red-assed bee in Hazzard, and that jump got the ol' General Lee overheated. The boys pull off to Hazzard Pond to get some water to cool the engine. Luke takes a cool drink from the pond, completely oblivious to the fact that scientific researchers just accidentally dropped a genetic serum that makes good genes go bad into the pond. Bo is confused when Luke suddenly starts acting like an asshole.<br />
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<b>Gwynnie:</b> On a less manic day, this would be my couple of hours in the office to work on GOOP, come up with ideas, write/edit and go over scheduling, travel, whatever else I have going but I have no time so I just pop the old cabeza in to see if there are any deadlines or fires that need putting out. When I am given the all clear I rush out the door, headed to rehearse with a band to prepare for the Country Music Awards which are just a week away. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Bo & Luke: </b>The boys meet Daisy, Enos and the Petticord sisters (Maybelle and Ruby) at the Boars Nest for the annual Hazzard Hayride. The gang loads up on the wagon and prepares for some fun. Suddenly, Boss Hogg drives up in his convertible with bullhorns on the hood and blows his horn, which spooks the horses who take off runnin'. Bo and Luke spring into action! Bo climbs into the wagon's driver seat and Luke jumps on the back of a one of the horses. The boys manage to stop the wild stallions seconds before they—and the wagon—careen over Hazzard Cliff.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Gwynnie:</b> Had to do my vocal exercises/warmups in the car, sooo not a good look. Fellow drivers looked on a bit bewildered. Rehearsed with the band from 11:30 to 12:30 and then scooted back out to the car and had kind of a big interview on the phone while trying to subtly check/reply to well-overdue email. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Bo & Luke</b>: The gang returns to the Boars Nest just in time to rescue Loretta Lynn, who was taking a detour through Hazzard and was kidnapped and held for ransom by a jealous jug band. Meanwhile, two con artists smuggle fake gold bars into Hazzard and store them in Boss Hogg's bank and cook up a scheme to frame Bo and Luke. Also, Daisy gets stuck in quicksand in her high heels. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Gwynnie:</b> Got home and had a fitting with super stylist Elizabeth Saltzman for the upcoming Nashville trip (what to wear, what to wear?) from 1-2. This is my 4th out of 5 fittings for this trip. We tried on a myriad of dresses and outfits, and I had b.o. by the end of it from wrestling with all of those dresses. I have six looks I need to choose for the trip; there’s the radio press conference upon arrival, the red carpet for the Country Strong premier, press interviews, a Sony Music VIP dinner, the red carpet for the CMA’s and the outfit for my performance! We manage to finalize all of the looks for the (very nerve wracking) trip.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Bo & Luke:</b> Boss Hogg announces he's foreclosing on Uncle Jesse's farm, so the boys race home to organize a charity demolition derby and just happen to run into The Oak Ridge Boys on the way. The band plays a quick set in Hazzard Square and raises enough money to save the farm. But Boss Hogg and Roscoe catch up with the Duke boys at the show, arrest them for passing counterfeit gold and throw them in the Hazzard County Jail.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Gwynnie: </b>At 2 pm I head into my office with a nice cup of tea for two hours of phone interviews. I am doing lots of these this week, but today’s session is only two hours. I call country radio station after country radio station speaking to some of the nicest and friendliest DJ’s on the planet. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Bo & Luke:</b> While Boss Hogg is out enjoying a giant plate of corn dogs at the Boars Nest, the con artists kidnap Hazzard's beloved mechanic Cooter at gunpoint and steal the armored car he's repairing, which also happens to contain the serum that can reverse the effects of the bad gene mixture Luke drank. In the meantime, Bo & Luke make a rope out of their shirts and use it to pull the keys to the jail cell off the wall (carelessly left by Roscoe) and make their escape.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Gwynnie:</b> Thursday is the one day of the week that I do not pick my kids up after school. They go straight to an activity and I am able to really maximize work stuff. I always feel a bit guilty (obviously) about it, but it means I can focus fully on them when they get home instead of trying to do two things at once. At 4pm, my weekly owners' and managers' call takes place for the Tracy Anderson Method with our brilliant CEO Stephanie Stahl taking the lead. I basically listen and try to learn. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Bo & Luke: </b>Daisy, who saw Cooter's kidnapping, races through the backroads of Hazzard in her Jeep to head off the armored car. She poses by the side of the road in a bikini to distract the con artists just long enough for Cooter to wrestle the gun away from them. Back in Hazzard, Bo & Luke slide over the hood and jump through the window of the General Lee and race out of town to hide out. But suddenly, Daisy breaks in over the CB: "Breaker, breaker, Lost Sheep, this is Bo Peep! I've got the cure for Luke's anger management problems!" Meanwhile, Uncle Jesse hits his head and gets amnesia.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Gwynnie:</b> Kiddies burst through the door and play in my office while I finish up, just drawing and hanging out and of course playing Plants vs Zombies on the iPad, their obsession that I have to limit like crazy! What up, gamers. Then downstairs to make cupcakes for tomorrow’s bake sale. It is ‘Bonfire night’ in the UK tomorrow and the bake sale is to celebrate and to raise money for charity. We decide on vanilla cupcakes with pink icing and green icing (from Tate’s Bakeshopcookbook with the icing from American Desserts cookbook).</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Bo & Luke:</b> As the boys race to Daisy, Roscoe pulls out from behind a tree and the chase is on again! "I'll g-g-g-get them Duke boys!" he blazes, as his dog Flash looks on with disinterest. Only Roscoe knows there's a bridge out ahead! But that won't stop the Dukes. Bo blasts right through the blockades, sending construction workers diving out of the way, then jumps the General Lee over the river and lands safely on the other side. Roscoe pulls up the rear and crashes into a pile of hay bales. Don't worry, he's OK! Luckily, Cletus and Enos took a detour to Daisy and Cooter and take the con artists into custody. Meanwhile, Uncle Jesse hits his head again, which cures his amnesia.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Gwynnie:</b> At 6:30 pm we all get in the bath and it’s hair washing night for the kids (every other night—never popular). Then back downstairs to check on cupcakes and have a visit from an auntie and uncle. The kids indulge in a super sugary cupcake before bed but I don’t feel too bad because they had a brown rice stir fry for dinner with baked sweet potato on the side. It’s all about balance! My night to lay with Mosey so I tuck Apple in, say a prayer and go into Mosey's room for a story, foot massage and quiet time. As soon as all was quiet, I rushed downstairs to grab a blazer and some blush and flung myself in the car for girls night. Lovely dinner and great conversation. 11:29 pm now, exhausted and ready to do it all again tomorrow!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Bo & Luke:</b> Luke drinks the nice gene serum and is back to normal within seconds and Cooter announces he's running for Congress. Then the whole gang joins up with their other cousins Coy and Vance and heads over to the Boars Nest to crack open some frosty ones and enjoy an impromptu concert from Tammy Wynnette, who just happened to be passing through town. Everyone's exhausted and ready to do it all again tomorrow! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, dear readers, I believe the moral of this blog post is: yahoos from Hazzard County are busier than pompous Hollywood blowhards. Also, you'd be a hell of a lot cooler if you had the voice of Waylon Jennings narrating your every move.</span></div></div>RockitQueenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15185922878382068620noreply@blogger.com3