Stupid & Contagious

GOOP in your pants!

2012-01-05T19:34:00.001-05:00

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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!

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!

When you've woken up from your excitement-induced blackout, check out what this life-changing kit includes:

-Nourish: Protein powder
-Move: Fiber powder
-Clear 1: Probiotic anti-microbial
-Balance: Insulin regulator
-Ease: Digestive enzyme
-Encourage: Strong probiotic
-Clear 2: Liver support
-Cleanse Manual
-Recipe Guide

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"!

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.

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."

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!

Might be a good idea to keep some Beano handy.

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.

OK, in all seriousness, I just can't with this crazy bitch any more. She is, quite literally, massively full of shit.

XO, RQ

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.

P.P.S. Post title courtesy of the handsome and talented RockitKing!!

New year, same old shit

2012-01-02T14:00:00.000-05:00

More trustworthy than
Rick Santorum.

Are you there, readers? It's me, Rockit.

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.

That said, the world is ending in December, so get your requests in ASAP.

Despite impending doom, there are already a number of things for us to "look forward to" this year. And a number of things that we know are inevitable. For instance:

- Britney's getting married for the third time! 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 Jim Jarmusch, Dax Shepard and Sam Merlotte from True Blood. 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."

-Duggars announce #20, take 2! 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.)

-Charlie Sheen is elected president in November! 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.

-Beyonce and Jay-Z become parents! Oh, right...no one cares. Until Jay-Z comes out of the closet and takes up with the newly single Kobe Bryant!

-Doomsday cults commit mass suicide on 12-21-12! 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.

-The summer Olympics! 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!

-Paltrow continues to be an insufferable blowhard! 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.

-RockitQueen becomes a mash-up star! 'Cause I'm dying to mix up "Careless Whispers" with Lords of Acid's "I Must Increase My Bust."

Any additions to make to this list? Sound off, my pretties! And thanks for sticking with me. HUGS!

XO, RQ

Sorority Girls from HELL!!

2011-10-06T19:47:00.000-04:00

My new favorite thing ever (thanks, Jason!):

The fish without a bicycle, Part 1

2011-10-03T20:16:00.000-04:00

"Can you tell I'm
wearing a pad?"

'Sup?

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 Always Ask a Man: Arlene Dahl's Key to Femininity. Yes, Arlene Dahl. I think she was on To Tell the Truth sometimes. But more importantly, she created Lorenzo Lamas.

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 that 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 Always Ask a Man in two parts.

The very first page of the book gets right to the brutal point. In a handwritten note with appropriately ladylike handwriting, Arlene says:

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.

If you've seen Mad Men, you know how scandalous those girls at Sterling Cooper Draper Price can be. And since Always Ask a Man was written in 1965, Arlene was there in person experiencing the horror of a real-life Sterling Cooper Draper Price, where ladies were getting jobs and doing things alone and going on (whispers) The Pill. Hussies... all! Arlene simply did not want to take such carrying-on lying down.

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.

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.

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 Are You Hot? Good thing laser pointers weren't around in 1965 or Arlene might be in a mental institution.

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.

(Hilariously, she also gets a quote from Tony Perkins, who says, "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!)

Other pet dislikes from Arlene's showbiz pals include obvious makeup, powder smears on necklines, stray hairs on the shoulders (huh?), table-hopping (huh?) 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...)

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!

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 Night of the Living Dead t-shirt with a big salsa stain on the front.

"Is your facial expression pleasant, alert and vital? Or do you look bored, dispirited and disagreeable?" Yikes...strike two.

"Do you appear dainty, feminine and well-groomed?" Well, I took a shower...

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?

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.

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.

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!

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!

Next up: exercise! Arlene recommends walking, but make sure you're walking the way a man likes. 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.

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!

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.

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.

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???

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.

Rocktoberfest!

2011-10-02T11:49:00.000-04:00

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!

Thanks for not giving up on me. I'm lazy and I suck. I promise it will be worth the wait.

I'm still here

2011-07-09T15:58:00.000-04:00

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.

But never fear, as I will be back very soon with more bitching about a myriad of topics of interest to maybe two people.

In the meantime, keep it real, bitches.

Rest in peace, Random Hero

2011-06-20T16:38:00.000-04:00

Purveyor of the greatest prank and line ("Well, how'd a car toy get...there?") in Jackass history. This is just terribly sad.

The most annoying video of all time

2011-06-08T19:25:00.000-04:00

Yes, it involves Paltrow. I'm sorry! But remember when I blogged a couple posts ago about the world's most annoying dinner party, 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.

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.

• 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. In the ground. And when we dug them up and roasted them, it was better than revolutionary. It was like a miracle had occurred.

• Speaking of making a big deal out of little shit, Jessica won't shut up about how 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?

• 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.

• 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"?)

• 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.

• 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.

• 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.

• 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 Schindler's List because we get the world's most awkward beat of silence and this exchange:

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!

Then there's another moment. At 5:54, Jerry starts paging through the cookbook and muses, "I love food pictures!" Reaction:

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.

• 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 is that? It was like that old SNL Quarry Cereal fake commercial. I mean, I guess rocks are natural so it probably fits into Gwyn's everything-free diet.

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.

I'm sorry I had to cover this today. I hope I didn't ruin your evening!

How do you screw up a documentary called Nazi Pop Twins?

2011-05-15T15:44:00.001-04:00

Not as awesome as you
might think.

When I discovered that there existed in the world a documentary about our favorite racist imps Lynx and Lamb Gaede, I nearly wet myself with excitement.

And when I discovered said documentary was entitled Nazi Pop Twins, 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.

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 (spoiler alert!).

The movie kicks off with a little introduction to the Gaedes. One of the twins is shown saying, "Blacks 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 Aryan and B stands for Blood. At least it won't be difficult to find an example word for X in April's alphabet.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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, "All 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!

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?

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!

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.

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 "Paul 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.

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? Why, what anyone in any classic abusive relationship would do, of course: move to Montana!

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.

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.

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.

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!

April starts to blame the documentary crew for putting ideas in the girls' heads and causing them to lash out at her. "You'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!"

This could be the best part of the movie. But instead, it all falls to shit when the director starts sniping back at April. "The 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.

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 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...

Cut!

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.

I found a somewhat recent article 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!

Anyway, maybe I'm being too hard on the documentary. What do you think? Check it out for yourself (for free!) right here, bitches.

Eat the rich

2011-04-18T20:33:00.003-04:00

Have you ever wanted to
kick a cartoon's ass?

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.

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.

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 My Father's Daughter: Delicious, Easy Recipes Celebrating Family & Togetherness. "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.

The New Yorker's recent profile 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 The New Yorker's mascot. They could polish their monocles, eat Italian truffles and sniff haughtily about the gauche bourgeoisie.)

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.

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 glam? That's like saying soysage is glam.

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.”

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!

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.

Oh, wait a minute...it can get worse. God help us.

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.”

Was there ever a more perfect time for a recreation of Waco?

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.”

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!

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.’ ”)

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.

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.

Just kidding. Chris Martin is a total dick.

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.”

Um, haha? Guests, Jessica Seinfeld just said would never have all you filthy animals dropping your cooties all over her 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.

Despite what Mrs. Seinfeld says, not everyone at the monster's ball felt lucky to be a part of Gwyneth's world.

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.”

“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.

“Gwyneth?” she said. “When I see her, I don’t think of food.”

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 Guiness Book 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.

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.

God, I'm so annoyed by this article. I think I'm having an aneurysm. sdf;lkj;eklrmn,n;glkad;m

Pretty hate machine

2011-04-01T19:24:00.001-04:00

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.

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.

I'm going to steal today's subject from the blog I'm the most jealous of this week: You Just Made My List. 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.

So anyway, I thought I'd list a few things I hate, in honor of You Just Made My List.

The teaser links on Yahoo! homepage stories
The following appeared on Yahoo! today:

Big-name actor cast as John Gotti

An Italian-American star is set to

play the Dapper Don in a film about his

family's troubles > Gotti Jr. approves

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.)

Here's another example from this week:

Chatty twin babies become Web sensations

These two brothers carry on an excited

conversation—but only they know what it's

about. > Watch their hand gestures

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.

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.

People who use astrology to explain shitty behavior
"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!

Using "ask" as a noun
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).

The Real Housewives' children's names
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.

Cigar Aficionado
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 Cigar Aficionado. Ha ha, just kidding—it's not obscure. Everyone knows CigAf! 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.)

Nerdy teens asking for dates via video
There's an onslaught of these lately and I blame Glee. Has this happened on Glee? I've never seen it. Anyway, why does everyone fawn all over these things? They're creepy! Hi, I'm going to sing an original song I wrote for you to ask you to prom—and I'm videotaping it in the hopes it will go viral and I can go on Good Morning America. 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.

Blogger's new web editor
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 Cigar Aficionado 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!

Not recommended for a drunken rampage

2011-03-06T17:18:00.000-05:00

Funniest Amazon review ever.
JL421 Badonkadonk Land Cruiser/Tank

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.
In the end, I blame all my problems on the Donk. I hope they have good insurance. I'm comin for them next.

Umm....

2011-02-28T00:34:00.000-05:00

Holy fucking shit!!!!

Happy Norwegian Black Metal Day!

2011-02-14T20:54:00.000-05:00

We're waiting for you at home.

Naked.

Love, Immortal

Who has the tougher day: Gwyneth Paltrow or the Dukes?

2011-01-18T23:06:00.001-05:00

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.

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 The Sound of Music 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.

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. 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!).

Gwynnie: 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.

Bo & Luke: 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).

Gwynnie: 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.

Bo & Luke: 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.

Gwynnie: 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.

Bo & Luke: 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.

Gwynnie: 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.

Bo & Luke: 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.

Gwynnie: 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.

Bo & Luke: 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.

Gwynnie: 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.

Bo & Luke: 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.

Gwynnie: 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.

Bo & Luke: 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.

Gwynnie: 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).

Bo & Luke: 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.

Gwynnie: 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!

Bo & Luke: 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!

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.

13 music world trends that need to die

2010-12-31T15:44:00.002-05:00

The world of music can be a little bit like emptying a bag of cobras into the ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese. It's dangerous. Unpredictable. It might cause screaming and rioting. Some people might be bitten. Some might even die. The bottom line is: you never know what you're going to get. And if you get out in one piece, you might get to see a kickass animated show starring a robot lion dressed as Elvis.

This is a bad analogy to make the point that for every cool thing the music industry spawns, five shitty things come along with it. Nirvana makes it big and suddenly designers are sending models down the runway wearing $700 flannel shirts and 600-thread-count longjohns. It comes in cycles. And often such trends overstay their welcome.

So let's address the latest spate of dumbassery. With 2011 around the corner, it's time to turn the page bury these once and for all.

Actually, pimpin' really isn't that hard.

13. The sexyface/sideways scissor pose

Come on, do it. Give us your best Blue Steel and throw it up. Instant gangsta! Wut wut! Now you a straight-up pimp like Miley!

12. Trending band names

First, every band had a "The" name. Now every band has a name of two words that don't make sense together: Vampire Weekend, Arcade Fire, Gaslight Anthem, Neon Indian, Perfume Genius, Freelance Whales, Gold Panda, Best Coast... god, go back to "The" names already (except "The Black" anything).

11. Crossover duets

Take one long-eyelashed popstress, add a hip-hop thug in a backwards hat and you've got music gold. Better yet, throw them together in a "surprise" performance onstage at some music awards show and then release a single due to popular demand. See: Katy Perry and Snoop Dogg, Rihanna and Jay-Z, Janelle Monae and Big Boi, etc. (You know some enterprising wheeler-dealer somewhere is hammering away at securing a Taylor Swift/Kanye West duet.)

10. Horrible hairdon'ts

I know, this is obvious, but it has to be said. Whether it's asymmetrical emo, the Jewfro, the Bieber or one of the old "classics" like the Robert Smith, the Flock of Seagulls or the Let's Get Physical (feathered mullet with terrycloth sweatband, a la Mike Reno), the stupid haircuts are out of control. Sidebar to this no-no is weird facial hair, such as the braided beard and the Herman Mudgett turn-of-the-century mustache that seems to be making a comeback.

9. Bands with more than six people in them

If you're not a freestyle jazz odyssey combo, then there's no need to have 50 fucking people on stage. Your indie band does not need a violin, trumpet, mandolin, dulcimer, cello, accordion, bagpipes, a pan flute, clarinet, mouth harp, regular harp, theremin and a gong.

8. Thinking Karen O, Beth Ditto and Hayley Williams are awesome

Karen O. is so cool! Beth Ditto is so confident! Hayley Williams is so hot! No. Karen O. is ridiculous and has a ridiculous haircut. Beth Ditto is fat. Hayley Williams is Ashlee Simpson in an orange wig. Yes, I'm being catty.

7. Mentioning "haters"

This includes the phrase, "Haters gonna hate."

6. Giving reality stars music deals
Kim Kardashian is releasing an album. In fact, she actually also violated #11 recently by allegedly recording a duet with Kanye West. Heidi Montag released an album that sold less than 1,000 copies. Two Real Housewives released songs called "Tardy for the Party and "Money Can't Buy You Class." I'm looking forward to the Billy the Exterminator album myself. If he does a kind of Kid Rock thing, I'm totally sold.

5. "Cute" tattoos

There was a time not too long ago when having a tattoo was really shocking. Like, only bikers and ex-cons had them. Then, heavy metal came along. Slowly but surely, everyone started getting them. Now you see people with Pooh Bear, Hello Kitty, Tinkerbell and every other cutesy comic character you can think of. What are these people thinking? Imagine your grandma in a nursing home with a giant picture of Tigger on her leg. Or your great uncle with Voltron on his flabby chest.

4. Clever musical versions of cheesy songs
OK, we get it. A high school choir singing an a capella version of "Toxic" is funny. Theater geeks dancing around to Whitesnake is high camp. "Don't Stop Believin'" is hilariously corny and needs to be in every grand finale music montage. I'm going to say it: I'm sick of "Don't Stop Believin'". The usage in The Sopranos finale was perfect. However, since then, the song has shown up on American Idol, Glee, America's Got Talent and a new Chipmunks album. It's also the grand finale in the Broadway show Rock of Ages. Sorry. Should have prefaced that with a spoiler alert.

3. Not giving credit where it's due
I love Gaga and all, but the queen of provocative stage outfits is Wendy O. Williams. Ke$ha, Grace Jones did that face paint thing first. Hell, Adam Ant did it before you. And Prince did the symbol letter replacement already, too.

2. Child singers

With the success of the unfortunately named Willow Smith's unfortunately named song "Whip My Hair," not to mention Beiber, Demi Lovato, Camp Rock and all the child beauty pageant shows, I fear there's a boom around the bend. Because when a "singer" hits it big as a youngster, they always grow up into such successful, well-adjusted adults. Isn't Leif Garrett on the new Celebrity Rehab?

1. Hipsters
Let's take a little quiz, shall we? Do you possess any of the following items?

I put it on my gold card.

Giant nerd glasses (regular or sun) with yellow plastic frames
Ironic Spandex
A Chuck Klosterman book
Rodman-era Pistons jersey
Nordic hat with earflaps (extra points for pom-pom on top)
An animal skull
Yassir Arafat scarf
Messenger bag with shoulder strap
A floppy beanie
Rollie cigarettes
Stan Getz's Getz/Gilberto, Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and Outkast's Stankonia on vinyl (must be at least two of the three)
Facial hair that makes you look like the dad from The Wilderness Family
A collarbone tattoo
White belt
Myra Hindley hairstyle in any color
Liberal arts degree
Requiem for a Dream on DVD
Stripey rainbow socks (extra points if they have toes)
16 oz. can of PBR
Native American headdress

Moon boots

Do you regularly have any three of these items on your person? If not, you're OK.

If so, then die hipster scum.

Dave Navarro is officially dead to me

2010-12-13T19:55:00.000-05:00

Kill me now.

I don't know why I've persisted in thinking that Dave Navarro has standards. He clearly doesn't, and hasn't for quite some time now. Consider the picture at left, for example. Also consider some of his other media-whore-ish offenses over the last few years:

• Hosted Rock Star: INXS, a reality show that sought to replace the late, great Michael Hutchence, one of the few natural born rock stars that ever lived
• Starred in another reality show with Carmen Electra
• Married Carmen Electra
• Got Carmen Electra's initials tattooed over his heart
• Announced his split from Carmen Electra
• Directed a porno
• Started a band with Billy Corgan, one of my least favorite people on the planet
• Posed nude for a PETA ad
• Contributed guitar tracks for Christina Aguilara and P. Diddy albums
• Hangs out with (and possibly dated) Daisy "Alexis Arquette" de la Hoya from Rock of Love

Pretty embarrassing all around. But none of those even compare to what Dave has done this time. Let me pull up a bucket really quickly before I type this because the vom is already rising. Now, brace yourself:

DAVE NAVARRO HAS BEEN HANGING OUT WITH, AND IS POSSIBLY SLEEPING WITH, TILA TEQUILA.

Let's just take a moment to let that sink in.

I will not post them here because I care too much about your health, but there are pictures floating around the interwebs of the two of them "canoodling" and of Tila leaving Dave's house in the wee hours of the night. Granted, they may have been shooting up together. And I could actually almost accept that.

It pains me to even mention a parasitic pubic louse like Tila Tequila on this blog. Why is she still around? She's stupid, skanky and crazy. Seriously. It was recently revealed, by Dr. Drew Pinsky's wife no less, that she failed the psych exam to be on the latest incarnation of Celebrity Rehab. Even Leif Garrett passed, if that tells you anything. Tila Tequila makes Carmen Electra look like Kate Middleton as far as class is concerned.

The only explanation is drugs. Drugs are bad, kids. Take heed.

P.S. It's actually a bad week for Jane's Addiction all around. Check this bullshit out:

I can't. I just can't.

Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you're the Charlie Browniest

2010-12-11T12:23:00.001-05:00

Killed by the eastern syndicate.

Awww, looks like someone got rocks in their stocking!

It should come as a surprise to no one that this little dose of holiday fuckery comes to us courtesy of Deadspin . They're not exactly known for spreading cheer, but this evil, evil rant against A Charlie Brown Christmas, aka The Greatest Holiday Tradition Known to Modern Man, is just too much.

Here's what contributor Drew Magary has to say about the Peanuts gang (with, of course, my commentary throughout):

Fuck You, Charlie Brown

I showed my kid the Charlie Brown Christmas special the other day and she was depressed for the rest of the week. Why are we still subjecting kids to this awful shit?

I blame myself for forcing Charlie Brown on my offspring. I should know better. I've never liked Peanuts. Ever. The only reason I watched any Peanuts holiday special as a child was because they were the only goddamn holiday cartoons that aired. I watched even though I didn't like it, because watching shit was better than watching nothing at all. Charlie Brown ruled by default. But that's not the case anymore. There are thousands of other holiday entertainment options for your children out there now, and very few of them are the animated manifestations of some asshole's clinical depression.

#1: How old are you that A Charlie Brown Christmas was the only holiday cartoon on TV? Assuming that you're somewhere between ages 22 and 40 that means that you were born somewhere after 1970. And if you were old enough to remember watching the special as a kid, we'll say the time frame was around at least 1975. Rudolph, Frosty, Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, the Grinch and the one with the Heat Miser...how could you have possibly have missed the countless other specials? And, if you're at the younger end of the spectrum, there's A Garfield Christmas, A Chipmunk Christmas and the classic Star Wars holiday special. The only explanation is that Drew grew up in a Unibomber-esque woodland cabin with a TV that fuzzed in for one half hour during the holiday season.

#2: If a cartoon depressed your kid for an entire week, your kid has some serious fucking mental issues.

I watched A Charlie Brown Christmas with my kid, and now I openly loathe it. Who thought this was a good idea to show to young children? Charlie Brown is depressed. Lucy is a bossy cunt. Linus is a head case. Peppermint Patty is like a cocktail party guest who corners you and talks to you until you want to slit your throat from ear to ear. Whenever Snoopy talks, he sounds like a cat being raped. No one smiles. Everyone's complaining or arguing. Horrible slow jazz plays in the background. There isn't a semblance of joy in any of these specials, and anyone who tells you they're classics has been fucking BRAINWASHED, just like I was.

This man is cooler than you.

#3: Peppermint Patty wasn't in A Charlie Brown Christmas, moron. God, get your pop culture right.

#4: Using the word "cunt" and mentioning cat rape in a review of a children's show could explain why your child was depressed for a whole week following the viewing.

#5: Drew probably thinks Coldpay is the greatest thing to ever happen to music. It's the only explanation for the diss of Vince Guraldi's classic soundtrack.

I was all excited to show my kid this special, because I watched it when I was a kid and I'm a selfish asshole so I wanted my kid to watch it and like it and be like me. Then I turned it on and I was like, "Wait! I fucking hate this shit." Then the show ended and my kid was like, "I didn't like that show." Then she went and started throwing things. FUCKING SNOOPY IS TO BLAME. JUST BECAUSE YOU MADE A SNO CONE MACHINE DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO MAKE MY CHILDREN UNHAPPY.

#6: The Snoopy Sno Cone Machine is the shit, so yes it does give Snoopy the right to do whatever the fuck he wants.

#7: Speaking of shit, your kid sounds like a little one. She should prepare for a visit from Krampus on Christmas day.

Peanuts sucks. We need to stop pretending it was any good, because if there had been better cartoons back then, they would have smoked its ass. Take a look, again, at the very first Peanuts cartoon strip.

WHAT THE FUCK? Are you shitting me? Is that even a joke? No wonder crazed gunmen once tried to kidnap Charles Schulz's wife. They were clearly trying to get him to stop making America suicidal.

#8: Yes, Drew, attempted kidnappings of elderly women by masked gunmen are hilarious. Remember that when your daughter mows down a few of her little classmates with an AK-47 because she "hates Mondays."

#9: That comic really is hilarious.

Stop patronizing the Peanuts subculture, everyone. You know, deep in your heart, that the world is better off without it. I wish I'd never known who Charlie Brown was, because he's a whiny little bitch and I hate his guts. From now on, he is banned from my house. I strongly urge you to do likewise.

Yes, yes, this is supposed to be funny. Drew's a laugh riot with his manic ranting and use of salty language. He's taboo and irreverent and cutting edge. His columns regularly touch on such hard-hitting topics as: Did the Chilean miners masturbate?, who's being cockblocked and which pro athlete is a "bitch."

It's no wonder he's so angry. His kid sounds like a mentally deranged gremlin from the anus of hell. Don't worry, though—there's hope for her yet:

After reading this, let's cleanse the palate with the other greatest thing in modern history:

Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you're the Charlie Browniest

2010-12-11T11:16:00.002-05:00

Killed by the eastern syndicate.

Fuck You, Charlie Brown

I showed my kid the Charlie Brown Christmas special the other day and she was depressed for the rest of the week. Why are we still subjecting kids to this awful shit?

I blame myself for forcing Charlie Brown on my offspring. I should know better. I've never liked Peanuts. Ever. The only reason I watched any Peanuts holiday special as a child was because they were the only goddamn holiday cartoons that aired. I watched even though I didn't like it, because watching shit was better than watching nothing at all. Charlie Brown ruled by default. But that's not the case anymore. There are thousands of other holiday entertainment options for your children out there now, and very few of them are the animated manifestations of some asshole's clinical depression.

#1: How old are you that A Charlie Brown Christmas was the only holiday cartoon on TV? Assuming that you're somewhere between ages 22 and 40 that means that you were born somewhere after 1970. And if you were old enough to remember watching the special as a kid, we'll say the time frame was around at least 1975. Rudolph, Frosty, Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, the one with the Heat Miser...how could you have possibly have missed the countless other specials? The only explanation is that Drew grew up in a Unibomber-esque woodland cabin with a TV that fuzzed in for one half hour during the holiday season.

#2: If a cartoon depressed your kid for an entire week, your kid has some serious fucking mental issues.

I watched A Charlie Brown Christmas with my kid, and now I openly loathe it. Who thought this was a good idea to show to young children? Charlie Brown is depressed. Lucy is a bossy cunt. Linus is a head case. Peppermint Patty is like a cocktail party guest who corners you and talks to you until you want to slit your throat from ear to ear. Whenever Snoopy talks, he sounds like a cat being raped. No one smiles. Everyone's complaining or arguing. Horrible slow jazz plays in the background. There isn't a semblance of joy in any of these specials, and anyone who tells you they're classics has been fucking BRAINWASHED, just like I was.

This man is cooler than you.

#3: Peppermint Patty wasn't in A Charlie Brown Christmas, moron. God, get your pop culture right.

#4: Using the word "cunt" and mentioning cat rape in a review of a children's show expl.

#5: Drew probably thinks Coldpay is the greatest thing to ever happen to music. It's the only explanation for the diss of Vince Guraldi's classic soundtrack.

I was all excited to show my kid this special, because I watched it when I was a kid and I'm a selfish asshole so I wanted my kid to watch it and like it and be like me. Then I turned it on and I was like, "Wait! I fucking hate this shit." Then the show ended and my kid was like, "I didn't like that show." Then she went and started throwing things. FUCKING SNOOPY IS TO BLAME. JUST BECAUSE YOU MADE A SNO CONE MACHINE DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO MAKE MY CHILDREN UNHAPPY.

#6: The Snoopy Sno Cone Machine is the shit, so yes it does give Snoopy the right to do whatever the fuck he wants.

#7: Speaking of shit, your kid sounds like a little one. She should prepare for a visit from Krampus on Christmas day.

Peanuts sucks. We need to stop pretending it was any good, because if there had been better cartoons back then, they would have smoked its ass. Take a look, again, at the very first Peanuts cartoon strip.

WHAT THE FUCK? Are you shitting me? Is that even a joke? No wonder crazed gunmen once tried to kidnap Charles Schulz's wife. They were clearly trying to get him to stop making America suicidal.

#8: Yes, Drew, attempted kidnappings of elderly women by two masked gunmen are hilarious. Remember that when your daughter mows down a few of her little classmates with an AK-47 because she "hates Mondays."

#9: That comic really is hilarious.

Stop patronizing the Peanuts subculture, everyone. You know, deep in your heart, that the world is better off without it. I wish I'd never known who Charlie Brown was, because he's a whiny little bitch and I hate his guts. From now on, he is banned from my house. I strongly urge you to do likewise.

Doorbust a move!

2010-11-26T21:14:00.001-05:00

Hi, everybody! (Hi, Dr. Nick!) Time to down a fifth and get your teeth knocked out for the last pack of Silly Bandz. It's Doorbusters Day!

As per tradition, here are a few classic Black Friday horror stories to remind you just what this holiday season is all about: oneupsmanship. Brought to you by our old holiday pal Krampus.

It was far from the first Black Friday tragedy to hit Wal-Mart. Back in 2005, customers shopping at a Wal-Mart in Orlando, Fla., were involved in a scuffle with security and with each other. According to one shopper’s testimony, "It was absolutely pandemonium in there. They were throwing laptops 20 feet in the air, and people were collapsing on each other to grab them. It was ridiculous.” One man reportedly got in a fight with several security guards, while other customers experienced blows to the head.

In 2006, one Circuit City in Naples, Fla., required police backup to help settle down a crowd after 32 vouchers for a laptop deal had been handed out 15 minutes before the doors opened. Meanwhile, at another Circuit City in the same town, a bad fight broke out between two women in the store. According to Naplesnews.com, shoppers reportedly “witnessed one woman grabbing another woman by the neck over a discounted computer.” Perhaps the world is a little safer now that the chain is out of business (though we do miss their good deals on electronics).

One woman collapsed early in the morning on Black Friday last year while waiting in line for the doors to open at Target. Rather than rush to help her, waiting customers stood firm in their spots, unwilling to lose their place in line. A few decent Samaritans threw candy bars in her general direction, thinking she might just have low blood sugar.

In 2006, Sony decided to take advantage of holiday traffic and released the PlayStation 3 in the week leading up to Black Friday. A video game release is typically a manic event, but when you pair it with the holiday, the result is absolute chaos.

Hundreds of over-eager customers gathered outside a Circuit City in Virginia waiting for the doors to open. Police officers tried to tame the crowd before the doors opened. According to a local radio station, “Twice officers verbally warned the crowd, then an officer shot a pepper ball at the ground.” When that didn’t pacify the crowd, police fired another round. Eventually, the customers dispersed all together.

Back in 2007, I had just had my daughter in October by C-section and I went with my mom to Black Friday. We were trying to get a TV and a man yelled, ‘I'm getting all these.’ When I said we are getting one, he pushed me down and hit my mom with one of the boxes. I was so mad—I thought, "All this just to get something for less."

It was 2006, I had been standing in line in the rain since 10 p.m. on Thanksgiving evening at a Walmart in North Central California. Walmart had advertised a phenomenal deal on laptops and I was so happy because I was within the first 30 people at the front door. Doors opened at 5 am. By 4:30 am there was close to 1,000 people in line. What happened next was the greatest display of raw human greed in all its ugliness that I had ever seen on a Black Friday. Now I find the term Black Friday is actually a very, very accurate description because for me, it was a truly dark experience. There was a literal stampede at the front door. Walmart had made the mistake of not providing enough security. They also let everyone in at the same time. As I jogged to the electronics part of the store people behind me were pushing and shoving me, trying their best to get in front of me. I was still fully anticipating a great deal on that marvelous laptop. As I approached the electronics department of the store what I saw was sickening... There was a dog pile of people nearly 6 feet high on top of the remaining laptops. Yes, it looked like a pro football game. People were having a free-for-all, throwing punches and kicking each other violently. One young man had ripped a huge chunk of hair out of an elderly woman's head, roots of the hair dripping with blood. People were enraged, yelling and screaming at each other. Store employees panicked and fled. It was complete total chaos. I could literally hear the loud thumps and screams as fists and feet landed explosively on faces, bodies, etc. Several people had blood on them, there was blood on the floor and I know many people would have bruises later in the day.

In California, I camped out at a best buy about 24 hrs in advance. I was in the top 20 of the line. Early morning someone told me to watch their spot. I agreed because I didn't think anything of it and then they return only a few hrs before the store opened. I was pissed. But before the store opened the manager came out and gave vouchers to the first 5 people. Then he gave the rest of the vouchers to an employee. The employee got on one of those lifting cranes kind of like the firemen use. And everyone crowded around him and he started throwing vouchers into the crowd. It was a massacre.

Work at Home Depot. One year we did TVs, huge Plasma ones for cheap. A woman, desperate to get her TV threw her body over the last two tvs to claim them and we heard the sound of breaking plastic.

Last year I literally witnessed someone trampled to death at Walmart. That's it for me and Black Friday. No deal is worth another person's life.

But, but...50" plasma screens for $495! C'mon, we can sacrifice some of the plebes for a deal like that! Happy holiday season, lovelies!

I turned my head to the audience and smiled—and they smiled back

2010-11-09T21:30:00.006-05:00

So.

This post has been a long time coming. I have finally and officially seen the black metal documentary Until the Light Takes Us.

There was a time when I didn't have high hopes for this little film, as the preview clips were boring and it appeared the directors didn't really utilize the Count to his maximum potential. How wrong I was to judge so quickly. I watched it a couple weeks ago and had to let it sink in before I posted my official review. Warning: it's going to be a long one and it's not going to be the laugh riot you're used to at S&C. So here goes.

I once received a response to one of my black-metal-kooks-are-HYYYlarious posts that said something along the lines of, "If you really feel that way, then you don't understand black metal at all."

This anonymous commenter was correct. I didn't understand black metal. I still don't and I never will, in the same way you can't understand anyone's experience until you walk in their shoes. But I can now see how the whole sordid tale played out. And much to my surprise, I found myself thinking it all made sense.

The movie starts off showing a 30-something, long-haired metal dude on a train being searched by police. "They busted me on fucking tear gas—they didn't find the drugs of course," he says. This is Gylve "Fenriz" Nagell from the pioneering black metal outfit Darkthrone. He talks a little bit about Norway ("It's like New Zealand, only just grimmer") and talks about how hands-off his fellow countrypeople are.

Suddenly, we're whisked away to a maximum security prison, and you know exactly where this is going. It's the Count! He talks about how the early black metal musicians "rebelled against traditional song structure," getting the worst equipment they could find and using a headset as a microphone to create guttural noises that sounded like hell.

Norwegians were afraid of the black metallers almost from the get-go, and the Count says they survived on reputation alone during the '80s. Then Dead joined Mayhem.

Dead's vocals sounded like he was channeling demons from the anus of hell and he scratched himself until blood ran down his face and arms during stage shows. But then you see grainy footage of the Swedish teenager running through a field of tall wildflowers and mugging for the camera. It was hard to watch, knowing what's going to happen. He's really just a kid.

We all know what happens next. Dead's bandmate Euronymous finds the 19-year-old Dead actually dead with his brains falling out from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. The photos Euronymous took of the body famously became the cover of Mayhem's Dawn of the Black Hearts album (seriously, that link is not for the faint of heart), and Euronymous allegedly cannibalized Dead's brain and made jewelry out of pieces of his skull.

After that heartwarming scene, Fenriz is back to discuss the state of Norway in the early '90s. The establishing shots they pan through are beautiful: charming snowcapped chateaus, idyllic town squares. But in '91 the first McDonald's opened up in Bergen and Fenriz and friends didn't like it. They grabbed some rifles, rode their bikes to the restaurant and shot the windows out. "We hoped there would be a third world war," the Count says of those halcyon days. "We knew that if you want to build something new, you have to destroy the old first."

Enter the church burnings. The Fantoft Stave Church was built in 1150—on top of a pagan holy site. "It's stigmatizing to talk about heritage," says Count Grishnackh. "Christianity erased our original cultures anyway. We might have known worse periods, but they destroyed records, wanted to replace our culture. Christianity is the root of all problems in the world. They have no respect for the Norwegian culture. Why should we respect their culture?"

It's at this point in the movie that I start to get scared because...wait for it...I THINK THE COUNT IS MAKING SENSE. Forget all the racist, screamy rants and the diva-like bitching about his domain name. I am nodding my head in agreement with what he is saying and thinking, "Fuck yeah! Fight the power, Count!"

In 1992, the wooden Fantoft Church went up in flames. It was the start of a series of fires that was eventually blamed on the Count. Hysterical news reports warned of satanists in Norway's midst. Then Kerrang! magazine published an in-depth report on Norwegian black metal in 1993. Suddenly, the underground scene was front and center on the news. Copycat church burnings, satanic symbols and extreme concerts began popping up around Scandinavia and the rest of Europe. Black metal was a trend.

Fenriz is shown waiting for a phone call from an interviewer. The reporter calls and he is so friendly and kind to her. He gives an interesting, insightful interview, engages in some playful back-and-forth about his lyrics and then thanks the reporter for her time. It's a telling moment. This is the man that everyone fears, whose life's work has been reduced to a shocking moment in a cable channel countdown.

Next we see indie director Harmony Korine, who helmed the movie Kids and dated Chloe Sevigny before she was an it girl. He's dancing around like a fucking moron in corpsepaint and talking about how he's really in to black metal. "I went to Norway where all the guys burned the churches down and killed each other," he foams. "And I visited Euronymous's grave!" I couldn't have expected anything more from the director of Gummo. I fucking hate this raging douchebag so fucking much.

At first, I didn't really get why the filmmakers included this short but epically annoying scene with Harmony, but it suddenly hit me. He was practically giddy talking about the death and destruction that occurred in Norway, and what he was saying was exactly what Fenriz and Count Grishnackh said they hated. Their art, their outlet, was viewed as the exact opposite of their intent.

Fenriz is shown attending an art gallery exhibit of black metal-inspired paintings (that are actually pretty cool). He quietly views the art and the photographs of the original black metallers hanging in the lobby. He greets the artist and leaves the gallery, hands shoved deeply into his pockets.

Now we've come to the defining moment in black metal history: the murder of Euronymous. The Count explains that he heard through the grapevine that Euronymous was pissed off that the Count granted an anonymous interview to a newspaper in which he copped to being the mastermind behind the church burnings. "He said he was going to knock me out and kidnap me and make a snuff film while torturing me to death," the Count remembers. "And I took it serious."

We all know the outcome of this little feud. The Count recounts the evening when he stabbed Euronymous to death and maintains that it was in self-defense. "He was swimming in glass fragments in his underwear with a broken lamp," he recalls. "I finished Aarseth off. I stabbed him in the skull so he died immediately."

The 20-year-old Varg "Count" Vikernes was sentenced to 21 years in prison, the most allowed under Norwegian law, for the murder of Øystein "Euronymous" Aarseth. The media referred to him as "the satanist Varg Vikernes."

On the day of his sentencing, he says,"I already knew they were going to give me the 21 years. [The judge] wanted to underline we don't tolerate this rebellion in Norway. They were expecting me to be wetting my pants or something, but it just made me smile, really. I just turned my head to the audience, you could call it, and just smiled. And from what I gathered they smiled back."

Then they show this:

I had to rewind this scene several times. It was at this point that I remembered the anonymous comment that I didn't understand black metal. It's easy to make fun of...the corpsepaint, the ridiculous outfits, Immortal. And I'll continue to make fun of it, because it is fun. But it was at this point that I came the closest to understanding that I probably ever will. The first time I watched this scene, I gasped. By the fifth or so time I rewound it, I smiled, too.

I don't like to talk about myself in too much detail on this blog. But one of the main reasons I love rock so much is because it was an outlet to my feelings of isolation from growing up in a small town. It felt like someone else out there understood feelings I couldn't explain, someone in a place I assumed was better and cooler and more fun than where I was. These crazed rockers in Norway who burned churches and killed each other were kids like me who felt misunderstood, except they also felt helpless to what they believed was a rape of their culture.

Fenriz describes Norway as a place that's even, with no real cultural scene. It's easy to see how something extreme can simmer up from a place that's artistically barren, freezing cold and neutral. It got out of control, but I can't say that I, as a small town girl, never felt like burning down a building or mowing a few people down out of frustration. Don't report me to Homeland Security; I'd never do that, mofos! But teenage isolation and feeling misunderstood can cause crazy thoughts to pop into your head. You've felt that way, too, and you know it.

The movie winds down with a few words from the Count about the media. "You're bombarded by commercials and senseless information every day," he says. "If you turn your head, you see a sign or a commercial, news, magazines, products being sold. Everything is meaningless." He's sitting in prison, where he says he's had time to think and read. "It's a sea of lies and it's impossible to find the truth, unless you know where, when and how to look," he continues. "You will eventually weed out all the lies and you will end up with something at least similar to the truth. It's hidden under rocks. You'll stumble and get branches in your face and make mistakes before you finally find it."

Fenriz laments that their original music is now out in the open. "It's everyone's property and it's out of our hands," he says, shaking his head. "It's a brand now. What can I do? What's the point?"

The ironic twist at the end is that Helvete, the music store Euronymous once owned that was considered the center of black metal culture in its heyday, has been transformed into a bright, white art gallery. "I wish this whole thing didn't turn into a trend," says Fenriz. "Then again, people like to dress up."

The best sexy Halloween costumes for the day after

2010-10-25T20:40:00.000-04:00

Two years ago, I saw a girl at about 8 in the morning the day after Halloween wearing a Sexy Alice in Wonderland costume. She was bending over into some bushes, her bloomered ass exposed to god, retching like no one's business. I mean, the sound of her voms could be heard echoing down the street. I've never seen anything like it, nor will I ever forget it.

I like to think she was doing the walk of shame after hooking up with some frat dink dressed as a pimp. It was the perfect kick-off to All Saints' Day.

The point is, sexy costumes aren't always stupid, but think about where you may end up later in the night and if there's potential to become fodder for an embarrassing story on a blog no one reads. It's an online world, you know.

Sexy Alice in Wonderland is an example of the sexified children's character. Not only are these costumes creepy, you can never hope to look composed on the day after in one of these. Watching someone puke in the bushes wearing a Sexy Elmo outfit is likely to change your life forever. And not in a good way. Other ridiculous examples include Sexy Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (hottie in a half shell!), Sexy Rainbow Brite and the just plain fucking stupid Sexy Spongebob.

Only slightly less embarrassing would be for you to be caught passed out in front of a Taco Bell with a "sexy item" costume up around your waist. Imagine waking up at noon on November 1, in a strange yard decorated to look like a slaughterhouse dressed as a Sexy Beer Pong Game or a Sexy Hunter's Trophy Rack. Guaranteed this would be one of the lowest points of your life. It would be better to be in the nude.

You need to plan ahead to do one of three things: scare, confuse or blend in. Try dressing as a slutted-up version of a movie serial killer, like Sexy Freddie Krueger, Sexy Jason and my personal fave, Sexy Leatherface. At least no one will fuck with you.

Another good bet is to confuse people with sexy costumes that don't make sense (like any of these do, but you know what I mean). Try going as aSexy Transformer, preferably Bumblebee, which is the lamest of all the Transformers. And even more inexplicable, Sexy Brian from Family Guy. People's minds will be too busy trying to wrap around your bizarre outfit to notice you look like shit. And that you're face down in your own sick.

The best of all options is to go as someone who is already known for being constantly wrecked. Try Sexy "The Situation" (complete with fake abs) or Sexy Duffman. You'll blend right in with all the empties on the porch in these and your friends, neighbors and anonymous passers-by will be none the wiser to your fuckery.

Have a good one, bitches! You'll find me in the most sincerest of pumpkin patches, waiting patiently for the Great.

Chicken or egg?

2010-10-19T18:31:00.008-04:00

Great minds think alike. And if you believe that, then I should be the head of creative at VH1.

The greatest reality show producers on the planet and I both have inflicted Rock of Love girls where are they now recaps on an unsuspecting and uncaring world.

If you're so inclined, you can watch the whole damn VH1 special online. Warning: it contains copious amounts of Rikki Rachtman.

The rundown is pretty close to mine: drunk, stripping, babies, stripping, drunk, stripping, finding the inner self, stripping, Hustler, stripping blah blah. Lacey's singing is fucking horrible (although I totally commend her dog rescue endeavors), Mindy's living in Cinci and working on some kind of food fetish calendar, Rodeo is a darn sweetheart and Brandi C. is engaged to a Billie Joe Armstrong lookalike. As an added bonus, some of the bitches bash on Bret and trash him for being a big, fake ho. The saddest (and awesomest) quote comes from Squishy Barbie Doll Head: "He's a skank just like me."

Embarrassing confession: I totes want to hang out with ASHeather.

What the world needs now is Gunn, Tim Gunn

2010-10-06T19:03:00.004-04:00

Time for a big fangirl post!

Tim Gunn recorded a video message for The Trevor Project, a nonprofit suicide prevention organization for LGBTQ youth, in which he tells bullied and lonely teens life will get better. He also drops the bombshell that he, at 17 and feeling desperate, tried to take his own life! Take a look:

Could this man be more awesome? I'm so glad he's become such a surprise breakout star. He embodies class, compassion and dignity. If the world was made up of Tim Gunns, there would be no such thing as terrorism alerts and Rock of Love.

Plus, Tim had the balls to call out Anna Wintor for acting like a psycho diva at a fashion show and refused to retract his statement when she lost her shit and demanded an apology. Love! I so wanna be Tim Gunn's fruit fly.

Holla atcha boy!

Where are the Rock of Love hobags now?

2010-10-04T20:49:00.000-04:00

It's October and I've got some scary things on my mind. Things you wouldn't understand. Things you couldn't understand. Things you SHOULDN'T understand. Things so scary, Rob Zombie wouldn't even touch them.

What are those scary things, you ask? I know you're afraid, but you must know the truth:

I've been wondering what the Rock of Love girls have been up to lately.

I told you it was scary! But you know this subject has crossed your mind, too. After Charm School ended, we lost track of all our old friends—the skanky little scamps that bumped and ground for love with Bret Michaels. Well, you're in luck, 'cause I've done some research. Here's a round-up of where the best of the hobags wound up (hint: it usually involves porn).

Season 1
• Well, here's a doozy. Everyone's least favorite reality villian Lacey "Hatchet Face" Connor is the new singer for Lords of Acid. HUH?? They're currently on tour with Praga Kahn and My Life with the Kill Thrill Kult. Jesus H. Christ. It's like my senior year of high school, complete with the creepy bully and the Rave New World soundtrack.

• Hatchet's nemesis, Heather "Aging Strident Stripper" Chadwell, is still darkening our doorsteps via the television. She's skanked it up in cameo appearances on Californication and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. She's also involved in the dubious "hosting" that so many of our little reality friends do to make a living. ASHeather's appeared at such red-carpet events as the Zodiac Winter Wonderland Party, Yeeha's Rockin' Bar & Grill's St. Patty's Day Bash and Hula Hank's Naughty Schoolgirl Night.

• We all remember Cindy "Rodeo" Steedle as the Hulk-like cowgirl with the heart of gold who was too close to Bret's age to ever have a chance at being his rock of love. She's now the host of some kind of exotic funny car show called Sick Speed TV (it's unclear where exactly this show is going to air and even if it's going to air on actual TV). And hold on to your hat: she's also getting ready to film Rodeo's Legs of Steel! Ah, the Of Steel video series. Everyone bought that in college, did it once and then tossed it in the back of the closet next to the hot plate.

Season 2
• Poor little Daisy de la Hoya. First she was rejected by Bret in the season finale, then she tried to find a man on her own show Daisy of Love, but that didn't work out either. Then, she had supposedly found love with the one and only Corey Haim...and then he died. Despite that (and despite looking like Janice the Muppet), Daisy soldiers on. She recently released an album with her unfortunately named band Seraphim Shock and has released her own song "Suck It" on iTunes (clean version also available).

• As for Megan Hauserman, after the unfortunate abomination Megan Wants a Millionaire dating show was cancelled due to, well, homicide, our favorite scheming dum-dum hasn't had enough of TV yet. She's currently filming a series for Showtime called Ocean Heat Miami, which I expect is going to be one of those classics that only airs after midnight. Gross. Also, Megan recently did a super-sexxy photo shoot with the Miami PD.

• Ambre Lake "won" Bret in the end after nearly getting kicked off in the first episode. Amazingly, Ambre and Bret actually did date for almost a year. Now, she's co-hosting a weekly music show in SoCal called Focus in the Mix with Denise Ames on which she's interviewed such rock luminaries as Frank Stallone and Quiet Riot's Carlos Cavazo (while Denise Ames got to interview Lemmy).

• Destiney Sue Moore was a super-wild bisexual freakshow when the show aired. Then, after appearing on Charm School, she appears to have turned into a completely different person. She started her own Ed Hardy-like clothing line called Divination and appears to have gotten married and popped out a kid. So, you know...yay?

• When you Google Angelique "Frenchie" Morgan, a phalanx of interesting search results turns up. Angelique has starred in such celluloid classics as Limo Bimbos 4, MILF School 2 and Gina's Filthy Hos 4. She's since landed a cameo role in a documentary called—surprise!—Stripped and is working on a Blogtalk radio show, which I'm sure is extremely professional and coherent.

Season 3
• Gia Lynn was eliminated on the first episode, but was one half of the duo that performed a drunken act so grotesque, so sordid and so unsanitary that even Bret looked disgusted. Gia is now an "Adrenaline Crew 4 Girl." This seems to consist of posing skankily in photos associated with one of those motorcycle daredevil groups that performs idiotic stunts on public highways and tapes them for a series of badly-produced YouTube clips and DVDs.

• Mindy Hall, dissed by Bret in the final two, is currently "starring" on VH1's stupid gameshow I Love Money 4. You may be saying, "But Rockit, I don't remember there being an I Love Money 3." That's because it was trashed when one of the contestants killed his wife, pulled her teeth out and threw her in a dumpster, then drove to Canada and killed himself [see Hauserman, Megan].

• Ashley "Squishy Barbie doll head" Klarich describes herself on her Twitter account as [sic] "just your average tattooed,whitetrash,jager drinking,Vegas stripper who turns obstacles into popsicles and then I suck the shit out of em!" Good news, everyone—Squishy's still stripping! And sucking!

• You may remember Beverly Palmer as Season 3's tomboy who told Brett that when she was married, he and Edward Norton in American History X were on her free pass list. This year, she's done RoL proud by receiving two DUIs.

• Brittanya O'Campo, she of the pierced dimples, Sharpie eyebrows, pseudo-gangsta posturing and helium-filled skull, was arrested and charged with assault with a deadly weapon causing bodily harm and assault and battery. It's unclear what the outcome of those charges has been. In the meantime, she's now modeling for a clothing company called 187 Avenue, which I'm sure is greatly helping her case.

• Cowtown native/Penthouse Pet Taya Parker was pretty much hated by everyone on the show, but she took home the prize (Bret's peepee) in the end. You may remember (or, if you have a life, you won't) Taya continually squawked that she wasn't a stripper, she was a burlesque dancer, even though she worked the pole like it was the first of the month. Well, low and behold she's currently performing in Striptease: The Show, a topless burlesque extravaganza with "hilarious audience interaction", held nightly at The Sahara in beautiful Las Vegas, Nevada. Tickets on sale now!

• On the show, Nikki "The Thing" Shamdasani was the other half involved in that monstrous display of sluttery that astonished even Bret. She also barely slurred and staggered her way through one episode before getting the boot. The Thing continues to travel to motosports events around the country to spin records under the name DJ Lady Tribe. She also continues to serve as a living cautionary tale on what happens when you get an ungodly amount of disfiguring plastic surgery.

• The RoL slut who caused the most second-hand embarrassment (and believe me, that's a big category) was Brittaney Starr. She's the porn star who wrote pages and pages of fake wedding vows for Bret and told everyone her grandfather was a "beautiful black man." Anyway, I'm sure you'll be surprised to discover that Brittaney Starr has completed a master's degree in finance and has been donating her time to help unemployed and struggling homeowners renegotiate the terms of their loans so they can afford their house payments!

Just kidding. She's still doing porn.

Britney's Candie's photoshoot: The donkey is the best part

2010-09-08T21:55:00.008-04:00

My last post about Britney Spears was almost exactly two years ago. How far we've come since the days when I monitored and made fun of Britty's every move, ranting obsessively three and sometimes four times a week. Ah, those were the days. I moved on to hating and judging other people I'd never met while Britney quietly dried out in the corner, growing her hair back and spending romantic evenings with that guy that looks like a low-rent Jim Jarmusch.

Then today, I catch wind of this video. It's a little behind-the-scenes crapumentary of Brit Brit's photo shoot for the latest Candie's campaign. First off: Candie's. What the hell is up with this company? All I really know about them is their suggestive and sometimes grody ad campaigns that always feature C-list celebs tarted up in their cheap-ass clothes and shoes. You may remember their most infamous ad which pictured mumps champion Jenny McCarthy sitting on a toilet with her undies around her ankles. (And, yes, that website that I linked to deemed that ad one of the sexiest celebrity ads of all time. Gross.)

Anyhoo, our little Brit Brit is one of Candie's heartiest endorsers. Who better to pitch sequined vests, tiered lace minis and leggings with zippers up the sides? OK, the cast of 90210, circa 1992 would be better, but Candie's went with Britney. Somehow Candie's got the budget to hire three of the world's most expensive photographers to custom-build sets and take pictures of Brit for their latest ad campaign. What happens when you combine three highly overrated artistes with another highly overrated pop princess? Let's take a peek:

I'm going to give you a minute to let that all sink in.

Now, let's pick this apart, piece by piece. We start off with a little welcome from Britney, who informs us that we are about to witness her Spring 2010 photoshoot for Candie's. Uh, Candie's...it's fall. So, fail #1.

Next we see a bunch of poor saps putting together sets, and some Candie's bitch bragging that "we have three genius, genius photographers shooting the biggest pop star in the world." So they dumped Britney and got Lady Gaga? No? Fail #2.

Then they show the photographers talking about the collaboration with Britney, only they don't identify them. Some crazy cat lady pistons her arms around and tells Britney, "I like your dance aspect, too." Who let that homeless woman onto the set? Security! Oh, wait a minute, that's just star photographer Annie Leibovitz. What a weirdo. I've read that she's a screetching psycho nutcase, so hopefully she'll lose her mind and kill everyone on the set. Fingers crossed!

Candie's bitch comes back on and says the photogs have decided "what to do with Britney" on their own, and then we see a Britney with a giant inflatable microphone and...A DONKEY. What the fuck. I've read that donkeys are temperamental, so hopefully the little burro will lose its mind and kick everyone on the set to death.

Next we see about 10 million unnecessary establishing shots of trucks filled with chairs driving around, lackeys opening doors and people pretending to work. The incredibly smug Candie's bitch starts blabbering about "raising the bar" for their seasonal photoshoot and at this rate, they'll be shooting the Winter 2010 campaign about this time next year. They then introduce the genius, genius artistes. Besides Annie, we also have Mark Seliger and, gross grossarooni Terry Richardson. You may have heard Terry's name in the news lately, as he's been accused of sexually assaulting several of his models. But you really only need to look at him to deduce that he's the King of the Creepers. He and Dov Charney should start some kind of douche colony. Anyway, I've read that Terry can be a bit of a loose cannon, so hopefully he'll lose his mind and kill everyone on the set, including himself.

We then get another 50 million ridiculous establishing shots and a guy saying, "I need the deepest pink touch-up paint." We see a cowboy-hatted guy that seems to be the keeper of the donkey, a giant teddy bear, roller skates and a director's chair that says "King Kong" on it. I don't even know what to say. It's just so bizarre. And stupid.

After another gazillion establishing shots, we get to see the epic first-time meeting of Britney and Terry. She gives him a hug and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I want to run in and save her before he tries to touch her with his peepee. Terry is practically foaming at the mouth over working with Britney and calls it one of his "all-time most exciting moments." To make that statement even sadder, the very next scene is of Brit holding that ludicrous inflatable microphone. Terry explains that he likes to work against an "organic, natural" white wall and give his subjects props. He also likes to take pictures of people with animals. Here comes the donkey! And chickens. And a miniature pony. C'mon pony...kill, kill! Terry's segment closes with him saying he got a little help from (points upward). Of course, we didn't end up seeing what happened with the donkey, so we'll never know exactly what kind of help he got.

Next Candie's bitch is back to claim that Britney really likes their crappy clothes. The film cuts to Britney saying, "I really like the dresses...fitting and flattering...blah blah blah." But I don't hear the rest because what in the ever-loving fuck is that pee-colored mop on her head? Is that "hair?" It looks like a $2 Mary Tyler Moore wig made out of blonde Barbie hair. Hopefully it will come alive and kill everyone on the set. I think it's possible.

Next up, we have the Annie Leiboviz segment. Britney asks Annie, "Can we play?" and Annie says yes. The next shot is of Brit sitting primly on a wooden stool against a poop-colored matte dropcloth. How playful. The Candie's bitch says they wanted Annie to do a "classic Annie portrait." Translation: a Josten's senior class portrait. Mercifully, this boring-ass shoot gets the least amount of coverage in the video.

Candie's Bitch starts going on about all the little details they have to think about on a shoot like this. Such as how they need to "candy-ize" Britney's trailer by covering each available surface with cupcakes and sweets in pink wrappers. Just what you need on the set of a fashion shoot: loads of fattening, tooth-rotting candy. They also hired Britney's favorite DJ to "spin" while they "work." Britney breathily informs us that most of the time he plays hip-hop, "which you can really get down with." And that hair...I just can't. I want to shoot it.

Finally, we have the session with Mark Seliger, who has constructed some kind of custom Moulin Rouge-style boudoir for his set. The room looks like it was hosed down within an inch of its life with Pepto Bismol. It's really, really, really pink.

Mark says he wanted to go with a French burlesque feel for his shoot. We then see Britney wearing a pink tank top and jeans. She's arching her back and trying to look sexy. Meanwhile, her hair looks like a giant banana peel sitting on her head. It's just all so embarrassing. Mark says he gave Brit "an environment to play around in" and the video cuts to a shot of him screaming, "That's good! DON'T MOVE, DON'T MOVE, DON'T MOVE!" Whoever edited this video must be a Stupid & Contagious reader. Hi, editor!

Next, Mark has Britney sprawled across a motorcycle that's parked on Astroturf. She's trying to be sexy again and all I can think is that she's a 28-year-old, twice-divorced mother of two. I mean, how much longer is she going to try to do this vampy Lolita thing? At the very end, Brit flips her polysynthetic head topper around and says, "My Candie's shoot (flip, flip) is a wrap." After all these years, she still sounds like a third-grader when she talks. Oh Britney, don't ever change!

I am a golden god!

2010-08-20T23:47:00.001-04:00

And I am 62 today.

The weirdest thing you will read all day

2010-08-03T19:22:00.004-04:00

This little doozy comes to us courtesy of our friends over at Gawker. Guaranteed, this is the weirdest thing you will read all day.

The young lady pictured at left is Corinna Burt. She looks like a regular gal, does she not? She's also a real Renaissance lady. Remember when you were a kid and you wanted to be an astronaut-ninja-doctor-firefighter when you grew up? Well, Corinna has a weird hybrid career sorta like that. Only really, really, really weird.

Corinna is a bodybuilder who loves to choreograph those fun routines they do at bodybuilding competitions—the ones where the musclebound lummoxes (lummoxi?) nimbly hop around on stage and flex their lats and generally look like Vera deMilo. In a phone interview with Gawker, she shared her greatest dream: to be photographed for Muscle & Fitness. So she's a bodybuilder!

But wait! There's more. Corinna is also a licensed mortician in the Portland, Oregon, area and considers funeral service her calling."It seemed like the most fascinating thing in the world, the embalming process," she told Gawker. So she's a bodybuilder-undertaker.

But wait! There's even more. Corinna is also the star of several hardcore torture porn videos. Which I don't even want to know more about. So she's a bodybuilder-undertaker-S&M porn star!

But wait! There's even, even more! Corinna decided to leave the sordid world of porn so she could be a better Holocaust-denying neo-nazi. That's right: much like our old pals the Gaede twins and Heritage Connection, Corinna is all about the Adolf. She even has a fucking Hitler tattoo! A really bad one, too. It looks like Hitler has a mullet and some kind of degenerating lip disease. Don't worry—she covers the tattoo up when she competes.

Corinna told Gawker of her white power-ism: "If we consider ourselves a master race then we have to act like a master race, not degenerates. I credit my involvement with the NSM [national socialist movement] and my awakening racial consciousness as what got me out of the porn industry for good. I have no desire to return, though I admit 'Nazi Girls Gone Wild' has a nice ring to it." Someone call Joe Francis! Or Bombshell McGee. Actually, Bombshell McGee has probably already done this, so day late and a dollar short, Cori.

Anyway, we're now up to bodybuilder-undertaker-S&M porn star-nazi. She's also got kids—two girls—that she says she's encouraging to marry white men and have white babies. Aww, isn't that nice? Maybe she can use April Gaede's nazi dating service to fix those little ladies up with some nice skinheads someday! So, this now makes her a bodybuilder-undertaker-S&M porn star-nazi-mom.

But wait! There's more! Corinna revealed to Gawker the biggest bombshell of all: "I raise gerbils, too."

So in conclusion, we have Corinna Burt: Bodybuilder-Undertaker-S&M porn star-Nazi-Mom-Gerbilist. This might make a good reality show, actually. If she made cakes, has six more kids and involves a little person, it can be on TLC.

It's not you, it's me

2010-07-11T10:14:00.003-04:00

Hey girl, how's it going? Oh, I'm good. Sorry I haven't called...been really busy. I've been traveling a lot this for work this summer. Chicago, New York, you know.

Actually, there's something I need to tell you. Sit down. This is hard for me to say, but I've been lying to you. I have, and I need to come clean. Don't get upset, baby. You know I love you and you deserve to know the truth.

So here it goes: there's someone else. It's true. I'm seeing someone else and I'm leaving you for her. How long has it been going on? The truth is, it's been going on for some time. About three years, to be honest. Baby, baby...there's no need to yell. The whole neighborhood can hear you! This is between us.

I'm moving out today. I already have a lot of my stuff at her place. Don't tell me you didn't notice. You had to have known something was wrong. Yeah, you remember. Back in May, when I became really distant. It wasn't because I found out about mom and Delonte.

Why am I doing this? Because she promised me a ring. Yeah, you're right...you could have given me a ring, but I got scared and pushed you away. I just couldn't stop thinking about her, and if you would have given me a ring, it just would have been that much harder to leave.

Don't cry, baby. You'll find someone else before you know it. You'll forget all about me! Yes, you will. You deserve someone great and you deserve a ring, too, but it's just not going to be with me.

Hey, don't throw that! What are you, crazy? Calm down, baby! OK, OK, I'll stop calling you baby! Relax! Stop slapping me! OK, you want to know the truth? You asked for it! Yes, she IS hotter than you! Way hotter! In fact, she's hot year-round, unlike you! You get so cold sometimes...frigid! She never does. But you're right, she doesn't like rock n' roll the way you do.

Listen, I hope we can still be friends, I really do. Maybe the next time I'm in town, we can have lunch or something. C'mon, don't be that way. Let's handle this like adults. Fine, if that's how you want it. Once I'm gone, I'm gone, and I'm never coming back. But you're going to regret it. I'm the king, baby! You're nothing without me!

Girl, I've never seen you like this. You don't need me? Yes you do! C'mon you need me, YOU NEED ME! Yeah, I know she's seeing other guys, but she's just so hot!

Fine, I'm outta here. I'll show you! You may have made me, but I'm the chosen one! Stop pushing! Watch it, don't slam that...dammit, the door hit me right on my ass! You better get that fixed!

Don't even think about calling! I'm changing my number! You need me! YOU NEEEEEEEDDDD MEEEEEE!

Baby?

13 worst uses of rock in commercials

2010-06-27T15:36:00.013-04:00

Advertising agencies are fucking stupid. The evidence is in our faces for at least seven minutes of every half-hour of television we watch. What's most infuriating is blatant cluelessness about the music that's used to illustrate a product.

Behind every dumbass commercial is some fatcat telling the marketing minions that he/she heard about this cool song that really might speak to the kiddies like, for example, "All You Need Is Love" and wouldn't that be perfect to use in our new commercial for Luvs diapers? Get it?? Love = Luvs!

"But boss," the minions say. "That's a classic song that the legendary and beloved John Lennon wrote as an inspired simple message to be understood by all cultures and nationalities."

"Fuck that!" Big Boss says, slamming a chubby fist down on the conference room table. "This song is perfect for telling people what diaper to use to catch their baby's rancid shit! MAKE IT HAPPEN!"

And so it goes in advertising boardrooms across America. And speaking of rancid shit, check out these 13 sad examples of horrid usage of rock n' roll in advertising.

13. Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" for KFC
Because the K in KFC doesn't stand for Alabama.

12. Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Simple Man" for Busch
Imagine writing a song in honor of your beloved grandmother who has just passed away and the valuable life advice she bestowed on you while she was living. Now imagine your grandmother's legacy being visually illustrated by a bottle opener prying the cap off of a bottle of cheap, watered-down beer, a horse rearing up in front of a snow-covered mountain and a breathy disembodied voice gasping, "Busssschhhhhhh." OK, you're right...it's actually pretty awesome.

11. Jane's Addiction's "Jane Says" for Jack Daniel's
When I kick back with a nice refreshing fifth of JD, I like to think about the simple pleasures in life: good friends, good music, good liquor and good old-fashioned prostitution. And heroin addiction. Ahh, good times...

10. The Smiths' "How Soon Is Now?" for Nissan Maxima
Whoever thought it was a good idea to use a Smiths song in any commercial does not deserve to live. This example is particularly embarrassing. According to this ad, the Nissan Maxima offers 45 square feet of leather, seven Bose stereo speakers and zero cars like it. But according to the song, if you drive this car to a club in the hopes of meeting someone cool, you're just going to end up standing alone, leaving alone and going home to cry and consider suicide.

9. Jefferson Airplane's "Volunteers" for E*Trade
What is the opposite of "sticking it to the man"? A song with the lyrics "One generation got old / One generation got sold / This generation got no destination to hold" being used to advertise online stock trading and investing. To make matters worse, E*Trade is the same company that makes those hideous talking baby ads. The newest one has two infants taking a red-eye home from a bachelor party in Vegas. Do I need to say more? I hope not, because I'm about to throw my Putey out the window.

8. Bow Wow Wow's "I Want Candy" for Old Navy
"I want Christmas to come early!" "I want khakis, cords and cargos for $15!" "I want a 14-year-old to sing about blowing a guy she just met at the beach!" "Yaaaaaaay, we got everything we wanted at Old Navy!"

7. Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Fortunate Son" for Wrangler Jeans
The usage of "Fortunate Son" in a commercial that seems to be about patriotism is the perfect example how out of touch stodgy advertising execs are with reality. However, to their credit, Wrangler stopped using the song in the commercial when John Fogerty expressed his displeasure with his anti-war song being used to shill pants. Who the hell wears Wrangler jeans anymore anyway? I didn't even know they were still being made!

6. Cat Stevens' "If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out" for T-Mobile
This one holds a special place in my craw because Harold & Maude is one of my favorite movies. The song is played when Maude is encouraging Harold to embrace life and says, "Everyone has the right to make an ass out of themselves. You just can't let the world judge you too much." That's not necessarily what I think of when I see Whoopi Goldberg, Phil Jackson, Jesse James and a slew of former SNL castmembers showing me what awesome things they can do with fucking smartphone apps. Because they're all making asses out of themselves and I'm judging them a hell of a lot.

5. Led Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll" for Cadillac
When I was growing up Caddys were the cars rich, white, old people drove. The were huge, boat-like vehicles that gave you the weird sensation of floating down the street like you were in a hovercraft. Now, suddenly, the kids think Caddys are cool. Apparently, the company is now running with that and trying to appeal to them with devil music. Too bad the song they chose isn't actually about music at all. Oldsters: "Been a long time since I rock n' roll" is Satan's code for "been a long time since I've gotten some ass." In other words, the back seat of your cars aren't seeing as much action as an '84 Camero. Sorry. But it does give the tagline "Break through" a whole new meaning.

4. The Beatles' "Revolution" for Nike
In 1987, Michael Jackson gave Nike the right to use The Beatles' anthem about political upheaval in the late '60s in a commercial about shoes. To illustrate the cluelessness behind this travesty, the line "When you're talking 'bout destruction" plays over footage of John McEnroe throwing a temper tantrum. The surviving Beatles sued and settled out-of-court; Yoko approved; Me Generation wins.

3. Janis Joplin's "Mercedes Benz" for Mercedes Benz
This commercial is the ultimate in irony: a song written about materialism and consumerist culture that places too much emphasis on labels and status symbols used to advertise the very label-whore status symbol it derides. The British version I've linked to here shows a whole world of average joes waiting on buses, working on construction jobs, commuting to work, rocking babies to sleep and even herding sheep using the song's "Oh lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz" as an actual prayer to the magical sky fairy to bless their sad little blue-collar lives with an overpriced luxury vehicle.

2. The Rolling Stones' "Brown Sugar" for Pepsi
An ad released in the late '90s featured an animated housefly sipping some spilled Pepsi...and singing a song about whipping and raping black slaves. Nothing more needs to be said about that one.

1. Iggy Pop's "Lust For Life" for Royal Caribbean
Because nothing says family fun on the open seas like a song about shooting up. All aboard the junkie cruise, everyone! Mom's going to go turn a few tricks in the galley and Dad's going to blow the captain on the lido deck to get their fix! Here, little Timmy, have some liquor and drugs and a flesh machine before climbing the rock wall! I'd like to think that Iggy is laughing all the way to the bank, but who knows in an era that saw Dennis Hopper in ads for Ameriprise and the Gap.

American Perv-parel

2010-06-10T14:44:00.003-04:00

OK, American Apparel. I've had all I can stand and I can't stands no more. I'm sick of opening up my city's free weeklies and seeing some chick's ass in a houndstooth thong leotard all up in my face. I just want to find out what's going on in Cowtown this weekend. I don't want to see crack and pubes. At least not that early in the morning.

For the record, I've never entered an American Apparel store or spent any of my heard-earned money there. And, yes, this makes me feel morally superior. When AA first appeared in Cowtown several years ago, I admit I was mildly curious. What was this new store in town that sells gold lame hot pants and terrycloth wristbands? And why does their advertising showcase these outfits in a somewhat porny manner? Just who is American Apparel?

Then, I saw a show about AA and I was exposed for the first time to the man behind the lame and terrycloth: Dov Charney.

Now, I've mentioned Dov on this blog before—he was one of the illustrious 13 Biggest Douchebags of 2009 (congrats!), a title that I can tell you now he's going to maintain in 2010. The hammer is starting to come down on this guy, but let me first tell you why that will be so deliciously satisfying.

Dov refers to himself as a "hustler" and seems to fancy himself this visionary sultan of sleaze. He screws his employees. He hires "real people" who are (or look like) 12-year-olds to pose provocatively in neon spandex for ads. He's had about a gazillion sexual harassment suits filed against him. He regularly jacks off in front of his female employees and reporters. He peddles mesh jumpsuits. You get the idea...

Anyway, it's been known for years that AA requires wannabe-employees to submit photos with their applications—a head shot and a full body shot. They regularly turn down people who don't have the "right look" to work at AA. Which translates to: you won't be selling tie-dye lace bodysuits and purple velour rompers because you don't look like (a.) one of The Strokes, or (b.) a picture on a paedo's computer.

Gawker and Jezebel have been regularly reporting on the looksism going on behind the scenes at AA and the shit is really starting to hit the fan. Disgruntled former employees are coming out of the woodwork with internal documents that detail the rigid appearance standards Dov requires of his minions. Don't wear crop tops unless you're the width of a cocktail sword! Don't wear gladiator sandals! Do wear booties! Don't wax your eyebrows! Paint your nails day-glo orange! No nose rings! Etc., ad nauseum. (Based on their advertising, I'm curious about their stance on camel toe. Good or bad? Required??)

Even creepier, Dov requires each store to take a monthly group photo and send it to the higher-ups so they can monitor and judge what everyone looks like and what they're wearing and weed out those who are "off-brand."

The ironic thing about this whole sordid fiasco is that Dov himself is the very definition of "off-brand." He looks like a combination of photographer Terry Richardson (another notable creeper), a '70s-era porn star, Crazy Harry from The Muppet Show and the wad of hair I recently fished out of my bathtub drain. At what brand would this look be on?

I want this guy to go down. Immediately. People, stop buying basic tees at this hellhole. I know you think they're great, but do you really want your hard-earned dollars to support Mr. Hairy Crotchshot? Exploitation! Discrimination! Bad fashion! These are crimes we need to take seriously. For christ sakes, this is a store that includes John McEnroe shorts and fucking sateen Hammer pants as staples! I drove by there the other day and they had high-waist leggings on the mannequins in the windows. HIGH-WAIST LEGGINGS. Who would buy that?? Nobody in their right mind could possibly want to wear half this stuff, even i they were buying it for an early '90s-themed party.

Come on, y'all—please join me in a boycott of Dov and his hot-pink manties with green piping. I won't judge you if you've shopped at AA, but I will judge you if you went there because you just had to have a stretch floral lace mini-dress. If Color Me Badd isn't involved, that is off-brand everywhere.

Treat your mama right!

2010-05-09T16:31:00.002-04:00

Happy mother's day to moms everywhere! If it wasn't for you, none of us would be the upstanding, well-adjusted individuals we are today! In honor of your day, here's a very special message from the one and only Mr. T. (I like how it's OK to call each other fat, ugly, skinny and stupid, but for the love of all that's holy, don't bring your mama into this!) Thanks, T!

The dirt on the dirt

2010-05-06T18:18:00.001-04:00

The highly anticipated TripAdvisor's 2010 Dirtiest Hotels in America list was released and I did not report on it RIGHT AWAY. I'm sorry! I hope nothing bad happened as a result of this oversight.

Actually, I'm thinking it might be a good thing to talk about this now—vacation season is right around the corner! And any time you go on vacay, be sure to find out what you're getting into with your accomadations. Seriously. Bed bugs are making a huge comeback and they've evolved into a kind of super bed bug that is immune to the usual extermination tactics. Even Billy the Exterminator would probably run screaming.

Anyhoo, this list is particularly close to my heart this year because the Parisian Hotel & "Suites" in Miami made it! It sounds fancy, doesn't it? I once booked a room there with some friends, naively thinking it was going to be one of those charming art deco retro-style inns that are all over the place there. We ended up in the back of a Thrifty rental car shop that appeared to be the actual entrance into Satan's ass. You can check out that fun story of sex, drugs and unidentified "fluids" right here. Needless to say, I'm pleased to see the good ol' Parisian is getting the recognition it deserves.

As has been my custom in past posts on this topic, I'd like to present a few of the more colorful comments left by disgruntled and disgusted guests. Remember: you can laugh now, but someday you won't be laughing when you're on vacation and you wake up to find fresh rat poop on your pillow and a human head in the coat closet.

When we checked in, the manager offered us a free upgrade to the "Honeymoon Suite." It was a set-up. The "Honeymoon Suite" had a vacant room next door that was "under construction." I was undressed to get into my swimsuit and heard breathing. I felt someone staring at me. I looked under the big gap under the adjoining room door. I saw eyes looking back at me!

My dog could have cleaned the room better. He would've given better service as well.

This was by far the worst and most disgusting hotel I have ever stayed in North America. It beat out a hotel in central Turkey that had a hole in the floor toilet that doubled as the shower, or I might have said the world. To be fair, the Turkish hotel cost 5 dollars.

The rooms are so filthy. I wanted to leave 409 spray there so maybe they would get the hint.

If you like being treated as a second class citizen or if you have severe daddy issues and you need to be talked to like you are a bad little boy I recommend this hotel. If not, then I would say steer clear.

I've stayed in crappy hotels before but those were when i was younger and looking for a place to get my groove on for an hour and for $20.

I went to the restroom, I kid you not a minute after doing my business I heard as if someone had thrown a bucket full of water. I went back into the restroom and there was a huge hole that had just opened right on top on the toilet from water coming from the room on top. WOW!!!

I can not believe this rat hole is still in business (excuse my language).

Had the ambience of fresh vomit.

I wouldn't even recommend this place to the outdoorsy types because it's just too expensive and probably dirtier than a tent.

Also, great news for international travelers! TripAdvisor is also now doing Dirtiest Hotel lists for Canada, Europe and Asia! When is GOOP going to get on this??

Happy birthday, Eric A.!

2010-04-25T13:21:00.001-04:00

The dirty little secret

2010-04-13T21:46:00.003-04:00

The weather is finally nice here in Cowtown, and that means one thing: Mormons. They're always lowering around in pairs, wearing short-sleeved white button-downs, skinny black ties and bicycle helmets. I wondered where they were coming from and it turns out there's not one, but TWO LDS churches within a 10-mile radius of my residence. And there's a whole lotta ungodly fuckery going on in this neighborhood, let me tell you. So they're double-timing the door-to-door. WTF, LDS? I'm sick of ignoring them when they knock on my door and shoving the tract under the door back out at them. So I'm going to make fun of them on my evil heathen blog.

This loosely (pun intended) ties in with a creepy phenomenon I recently became privy to: Secret Keeper Girl. What is Secret Keeper Girl, you ask? You're going to regret that question!

Secret Keeper Girl is a series of books, but it's also kind of an organization. It was created by a woman named Dannah Gresh, author of such feminist classics as And the Bride Wore White and Lies Young Women Believe. Would you like to know what these books are about? Regret number two! Well, Bride is chock full of "how-to-say-no skills that can reduce the risk of a young woman's heart being broken" and Lies preaches the message that sex, drugs and rock n' roll iz badz.

Which brings us to the big secret that Secret Keeper Girls wants you to keep. Just take a wild guess what it is. That's right: vag. Well, they call it "purity," but they really mean vag. Girls, a broken heart is the least of your worries...

On her website, Dannah reveals that she didn't keep her pants on when she was in high school and a radio sermon from (of all people) James Dobson reduced her to tears and spurred her to confess: "It took me three hours to tell my husband in the darkness of my bedroom. Satan had me cornered into a prison of blackmail until the very moment that my lips uttered a long-awaited confession."

Gee, Dannah, dramatic much? Christ, it's not like she killed someone, ate their brain and made jewelry out of pieces of their skull, like some people we know. OR DID SHE? Anyway, Dannah somehow found the strength to overcome her sordid past and now coaches moms on how to guilt their daughters into keeping it closed.

Dannah's website is enticing with its hot pink, orange and green color pallette, flowery flourishes and girly fonts. It looks very Hannah Montana... that's the show that stars that little hobag Miley Cyrus! Stop confusing me, Secret Keeper Girls!

SKG puts a big emphasis on modesty and dressing age-appropriately, which is something even I can actually get behind. However, I can't get behind the site's Truth or Bare section, which gives girls helpful "modesty tests" to help them tell if their outfits are too skanky. Let's try it! To find out if you're showing too much tummy, do the Raise & Praise! "Stand straight up and pretend you are going for it in worship, and extend your arms in the air to God. Is this exposing a lot of belly? Bellies are very intoxicating, and we need to save that for our husband!" Drunk off belly...that's a new one to me. And what exactly are you supposed to be "going for" in worship? Sounds a little sexy to me...but then again, I'm tainted by rock n' roll and the media so everything sounds dirty to my Satanic ears.

Now, if you think that last test was bad, check out the one known cryptically as "Grandpa's Mirror": "Get in front of a full-length mirror. If you are in shorts, sit Indian style. If you are in a skirt, sit on a chair with your legs crossed. Now, what do you see in that mirror? OK, pretend it is your Grandpa! If you see undies, or lots of thigh, your shorts or skirt is too short." Um, GROSS? How about if Grandpa is staring at your crotch, call the police? Or Chris Hansen.

Like I said, I don't think the message of dressing age-appropriately is bad at all, but why does it have to be tied up in all this good/bad, virgin/whore shit? And why is it always up to the girls to keep people from looking at them? Are boys being forced to make creepy purity pledges to god and pretend their mirrors are Grandpa? Of course not! Boys are rabid, hormone-charged beastmasters. Look alive, girls! You're surrounded by randy wieners! Don't let anyone get intoxicated by your belly! You might get your heart broken! Or AIDS! (Oh, wait, only gay people get that!) Worst of all, you might get a Bad Reputation! And you might find yourself one day crying over James Dobson sermons and making a heart-wrenching confession to your hubby in a dark bedroom. And it will all be because you couldn't keep one measly little secret...

Hey, speaking of randy wieners, I wonder what happened to my favorite website NoMoHo? It's gone! I refuse to believe they couldn't sell enough NoMoHo chastity belt buckles to keep the site in business. Because chastity belts are so popular! In fact, Lauren Conrad is coming out with a line of them, exclusively at Kohl's.

Once again, I've written an entire post with no real point, other than to make fun. If sarcasm was a sin, I believe Satan himself would hand the pitchfork over to me when I die.

It did make me feel a little better about the return of the Mormons...

That's called survival, baby!

2010-04-04T22:02:00.004-04:00

Schroeder: What's the matter with you? All you think about is "gimme, gimme, gimme; get, get, get"!
Lucy: That's called survival, baby!

Best quote ever from a children's cartoon!

Why isn't It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown shown on TV anymore? That show was fucking great! Marcie tries to toast eggs, Sally tries to walk in pink clogs and Snoopy has a psychedelic vision of dancing bunnies.

My personal favorite scene was when Snoopy got a peek inside Woodstock's birdhouse and discovered that he had the place all pimped out super-'70s style, complete with op-art furniture, a stereo with giant headphones and jazzy Playboy Club-style music. Sort of like when Greg Brady went all hippie and turned Mike's den into a groovy crash pad. Anyway, Snoopy gets jealous and tries to then get into the love den and, of course, destroys it. Whoever wrote the acid trip script for this show was a brilliant genius. If you want to see this scene, click here and go to about 6:30. Awesome.

Anyhoo, I'm cooking up some super-fun posts, so keep an eye out. We really need to discuss this Jesse James situation.

More to the Corey story

2010-03-11T18:15:00.003-05:00

In light of The Haimster's death, lots of interesting stories about his love life are starting to trickle out. Did you ever really want to know about this? Trust me, it's fucking fascinating!

First, Jezebel scored an interview with Lala Zappa (is her name really Lala Sloatman? I always thought it was Zappa), the girl 13-year-old Rockit never met, but used to hate because she dated Corey. She even mentions Alphie's Soda Pop Club in the interview. God, my little friends and I used to dream about hanging out at that place with all the cool kids like Andre Gower from The Monster Squad and Nicole Eggart and that other girl from Charles In Charge. The interview is a real eye-opener, as it turns out Lala was really, really insecure during that time period. Stars: they're just like us!

Next: did you know Corey dated Victoria "Posh" Beckham before she was in the Spice Girls?? How did that happen?? And she apparently cheated on him with someone who wasn't Becks.

Last and perhaps of most interest to regular S&C readers: Corey was most recently dating none other than Daisy "Alexis Arquette" De La Hoya from our favorite show Rock of Love!! Apparently, the two were introduced by Feldman and had recently had their first date at the Playboy mansion. Yesterday, she Tweeted: "I'm sooooooo devastated right now. This is the worst day ever I can't believe this." She also wrote, "Why do I always fall for the lost soul? We could of been lost together, now your lost forever.... Ill miss you."

See? Fascinating! The secret side of Corey Haim...one we didn't see in his legendary fan video Me, Myself & I.

Good night, Haimster

2010-03-10T18:08:00.006-05:00

Today is a sad day. Poor Corey!

Jezebel put together this very nice and nostalgic teen dream scrapbook of Corey's most memorable roles (I can't believe they left out Roomies, which has the best, most cheestastic theme song ever, but whatever). I still bawl every time he fucks up the football game in Lucas.

What is going on in Hollywood? Brittany Murphy, Andrew "Boner" Koening and now Corey? I find it interesting that both Brittany and Corey were experiencing "flu-like symptoms" right before they died. What does it all mean?

No matter what it means, I know spent a good part of the day feeling bad about making fun of him several times on this very blog. I remember getting just about every super centerfold issue of Bop, Teen Beat and The Big Bopper (they had the BIG posters) to decorate my room with Corey and watching The Lost Boys and License To Drive until I had them entirely memorized. And I hated Alyssa Milano and Lala Zappa because they both dated Corey. A little piece of my junior high world is now gone.

Here's to you, Corey Haim. RIP

Sleep with dogs, rise with fleas

2010-03-04T20:48:00.004-05:00

Before I start today's rant I have to mention that I got a most interesting and vexing comment in my inbox, and now I wish I hadn't deleted it. I'm 95% positive it was spam. But it looked like a one-paragraph excerpt from a dirty story! It didn't look like spam: the spelling was good, there were no dubious-looking links, it didn't blatantly solicit anything... but what else could it be? Are they going to send me a few installments, get me hooked and then reel me into to some kind of Nigerian bank account scam? If anyone has seen something like this, please let me know. Not that I wanted to know what happened, or anything...*ahem.*

Now, on to today's fuckery.

The tranquilizers have worn off over at GOOP, because our old pal Gwynnie is at it again. This week's post is about Sleep: How to do it and how not to deprive yourself of it. Apparently, "lie down and close your eyes" isn't enough. And something tells me Ms. Holistic frowns on taking Ambien (or tranqs) when you need a little help.

The post kicks off right away with the pretensiousness: "Basically everyone I know is knackered, me included." OK, we get it: you live in England. I hate it when people who are not British say things like "whilst" and "knickers" in order to sound smart and worldly. And we all know Paltrow won't let us forget for a second that she's as well-bred as a Triple Crown champ.

This post was inspired by a book Gwynnie recently read about how sleep deprivation makes you look older and causes hormonal imbalances. So us serfs can benefit from her infinite wisdom and high-powered connections, she consults "one of" her doctors about why getting a good night's rest is great. Evidently, sleep is as essential for health as a good diet and exercise. Dammit! When is sitting on the couch all night, eating Doritos Collisons and watching Celebrity Rehab reruns going to be essential to good health? GOOP always ruins everything!

Speaking of ruining everything, wait until you hear some of this wacky advice. First, the good doctor names some of the hinderances to a good night's sleep, including "Stimulants or substances that can affect sleep (alcohol [Boo!—Ed.], caffeine, medications, recreational drugs [BOO!—Ed.] herbs, and even some vitamins.) Wait a minute...what was that last part? Herbs? VITAMINS? Gwynnie's world view might turn upside down. And for the love of Deepak Chopra, don't tell Suzanne Somers!

Doc also offers some helpful tips on proper snoozing, including this:

Close your office door, or find a quiet spot somewhere and get comfortable. Take 5 minute breaks throughout your day to focus on your breath. If that’s challenging, then focus on your feet and then your hands. Feel them for a few minutes; become aware of them. This will calm you down. Quieting and slowing your mind calms the body, which is the perfect antidote to the over-stressed state we are often in.

So he just assumes that everyone has an office door. News flash: cubicles don't have doors. Or walls. Does this guy honestly think that the average working stiff is going to be able to do this? Let's be realistic: anyone with five minutes on their hands is going to race outside for a smoke break.

Even worse, he recommends cutting out caffiene COMPLETELY. Is he trying to kill us??

Now here's where it really starts getting fishy. He next says we should "Go for it!" on an elimination diet. That means cutting out things like sugar and processed foods, plus eliminating dairy and gluten products—there goes the Doritos Collisions. Next, he wants you turn off the TV, computer and video games by 10 p.m., dim the lights and take a warm bath. 10 p.m.?? That's when the really good bars open!

Well, Doctor Death doesn't care about that, because according to him, we're not supposed to use alcohol or sleeping pills to help us fall asleep. This would prevent me from my usual nightly routine of acting out scenes from Valley of the Dolls. "My beautiful little dolls! Just one...and one more." I think it's going to be a Neely night!

Next Gwyneth's doctor recommends...oh, just take a guess. That's right: HERBS! Didn't he just say we weren't supposed to take herbs? I'm so confused! He signs the posting with "one love." This made me curious, so I looked this guy up. SURPRISE! His calls himself a "health evangelist" and his practice is all about "alternatives"—detoxes, acupuncture, chiropractic, supplements and so on. His site actually says, "Although we try to avoid Pharmaceuticals, we do prescribe them when necessary." I love how actual, scientific, FDA-approved medicine is the last resort. If that's the last possible thing that works, shouldn't you do that first? Call me crazy! Also, if this guy and his methods are so great, why wouldn't he be Gwynnie's only doctor? Things that make you go hmmmm....

The entry also includes some recommendations for good bedding. Of course, it's all hellishly expensive and high-end. Hungarian goose down (what makes Hungarian geese better than, say, Czech geese?), high-thread-count cotton sheets, ironed linens...who has the time or money for all this?

I want to know who GOOP's target audience is, because every time I read this newsletter, I feel like I just accidentally walked in to some secret meeting, and the attendants all turn to stare, judging me silently. Then after I slink out, they'd hurmph about having to be within several feet of a commoner.

Now I'm all wound up. I'll never get to sleep. Thanks for nothing, Gwyneth Paltrow! I still don't know what "knackered" means. Where did I put those dolls...

Another reason to not fuck with Norway

2010-02-12T07:49:00.002-05:00

They'll put on skin diving suits and chase you down the street with tridents. I don't blame them. Google Street View is creepy.

Norwegian men in scuba gear give chase to Google Street View Car
Sorry to bust your bubble you Berlin Google pranksters, but a couple of guys from Norway just pulled off the best Google “Street View” prank yet. Seems two unidentified gentleman had heard a Google camera car was in the neighborhood, so they decided to dress as scuba divers and laid (or rather sat) in wait for the unsuspecting car.

As soon as the Google vehicle passed by, the two men sprang into action. They both leapt from their respective lawn chairs and gave chase as best they could behind the “Street View” car as it traveled down the road with one of the men brandishing a fishing fork. Fortunately for Google, since both the men were wearing diving flippers at the time, the pursuit did not last very long. All the while, however, the Google cameras snapped away at the bizarre chase taking place.

Now it seems no one is exactly sure how these Norwegian men caught wind that there was a Google “Street View” car in their town. What is known, though, is that Google apparently did not mind the funny scene as they posted the photos on Google Maps. Just go to “Street View” level to see the pair on the side of the road and then continue down the street to see them give chase.

So you mean to tell me they weren't scooped up by an air tanker and dumped on a forest (or in this case, stave church) fire? Ha ha, just kidding—you can actually see the lawn chairs on the right side of the picture. It looks like they also have an umbrella and a newspaper, so they must have been there for a while. How long did they wait? What ran through the minds of passersby? And who are these masked and flippered men? I'm going to pretend that it's Abbath and Horgh from Immortal. Bergen, Norway, could use a little injection of humor now that the Count is walking among them once again.

On a side note, I'm disturbed that it appears to be SUNNY in this picture. So that means The Grim and Frostbitten Kingdom has sunshine and no snow, while Cowtown marinates in a vomitous muck of icy sludge.

Rest in peace, Lee

2010-02-11T20:51:00.001-05:00

Isabella and the Squid

2010-02-09T23:04:00.005-05:00

Ever wonder about the sex life of a bee, an anchovy or a barnacle? Love Isabella Rossellini? Well, I'm about to make your day.

Isabella is the star of a hilarious—and educational—Sundance Channel series Green Porno. Just try not to fall in love with this. My fave, of course, is the squid.

Random observation

2010-02-02T20:51:00.007-05:00

Remember the old "We Are The World" video? And how the camera panned over the stars as they sang and all of a sudden you saw Dan Aykroyd with headphones on singing, too? And you thought, "What the F is Dan Aykroyd doing there?"

Did you see the photos from the recording session of the new version of "We Are the World?"

Vaughn: The New Aykroyd.

Neo-nazis need love, too

2010-01-26T21:16:00.007-05:00

Much like herpes simplex, some of our old friends from posts past have a knack of just popping up unexpectedly. Count Grishnackh does this quite a bit, as does Suzanne Somers. Now we can add the Gaedes to that list.

If you've forgotten (and how the hell could you?), the Gaedes are a family that consists of twins Lynx and Lamb—also known as national socialist folk-pop duo Prussian Blue—and their mom April, who is sort of like a Dina Lohan-style stage parent, momager type. Who totally loves Hitler. In fact, the Gaedes love Hitler so much, they make Hitler snowmen (see Exhibit A, pictured left).

It's been a while since I blogged about this outfit. But it wasn't too long ago that I blogged about a Prussian Blue copycat group and wondered whatever happened to the original Olsen twins of the Third Reich, Lynx and Lamb. Still no word on that front, but a fun little piece of news did come out today that involves Mom April.

The hate group watchdogs at the Southern Poverty Law Center report that April Gaede has undertaken a new venture: neo-nazi matchmaking. That's right. April's now using her "connections" to hook white people up to breed more white people. “I am willing to act as a go between, researcher, matchmaker, older sister and guide for any WNs [white nationalists] who are looking for a WN spouse,” the Center quotes her as writing on a white power website. “Only email me if you are serious about finding a spouse or long term partner.”

You had me at sieg heil, April.

Just kidding. I wouldn't qualify anyway. My uncle sent a cheek swab to National Geographic and found out the Rockit family ancestors came from Northern Africa. Dirty! Tainted! Just like everybody in the whole history of the fucking world.

You may ask what qualifies April to be a matchmaker. Well, she's married, for one thing. And she likes to boast about how awesome her relationship with her husband is. “I was 37 with two children when my husband Mark and I met,” she wrote. “In any other circumstances we might have been an unlikely pair, a city boy who plays hockey and a country girl who trained horses. But because of our ideological similarities and our mutual concern about the future of our race we have much more in common than the average couple today.”

Those crazy kids! Who says opposites don't attract? Maybe they should make one of those cringeworthy how-we-met commercials like eHarmony does to promote April's matchmaking business. They could also film spots featuring successful matches. "I didn't want anyone to know I was having another racist find a white partner for me," an attractive but non-threatening blonde could say. "April matched us on 28 levels of deep Aryan compatibility." Come to think of it, eAryan would be a great name for the service! Or eWhitey. Even better!

Anyway, not all has been wine, roses and combat boots in April's love life. She and her first husband, the twins' father, bitterly divorced and her ex cited April's racist lunacy in an attempt to get custody of Lynx and Lamb. She says that her only regret of the whole ugly affair was that she didn't produce “four to six more children with that ideal eugenic quality that [Lynx and Lamb] possess.” Holy schnikes. This chick is hardcore!

It also turns out she has a real knack for hooking people up. Wait until you hear this:

April has a long and sordid history of micromanagement when it comes to the twins' "band." It all started when she recruited a very special songwriter to come up with some tunes for her then-preteen girls to sing: David Lane, an elderly former Aryan Nation leader serving a 190-year sentence for murdering a Jewish radio show host. He apparently was the model for Stacy Keach's character in American History X. Yes, Davey is a real Renaissance man.

Anyway, when Davey died, April evidently appointed herself micromanager of his funeral arrangements, too. She had Lane's body shipped from a prison in Indiana to her home in Montana and interred his cremated remains into 14 miniature pyramids. The SPLC reports in their article that the pyramids were supposed to be given to 14 different women, but a big fight broke out over the whole thing. Gee, how surprising that they all couldn't just deal with it in a calm and rational manner.

Maybe I'm naive but this thing with the body and the remains and the pyramids is just over-the-top bizarre, and that's saying a lot for this bunch. It's worth reading some of the other stories on the SPLC's site about April. As you're reading, imagine her as one of those wild-eyed pageant moms that pantomime routine steps along with their makeup-soaked toddlers. Among her repertoire of antics, she likes to angrily confront store clerks in checkout lines with wild accusations of pandering to minorities and shake them up to the point that they forget to ring up one of her items. She claims to always walk out of K-Mart or Ikea with something free and says it's the store's problem, not hers. And you thought your parents were embarrassing.

Plus the SPLC has a way with words. They refer to Prussian Blue's songs as "shrill odes," which I'm totally stealing.

They also mention that there exists a documentary about the Gaedes called Nazi Pop Twins. It sounds like a real winner even beyond the title, so stay tuned for an S&C skewing (if I can manage to get my hands on it).

Anyway, that's the latest from this koo-koo krazy little korner of the universe. Now you'll be able to sleep at night. Sweet dreams!

Who's helping and who's hurting in Haiti?

2010-01-19T19:25:00.004-05:00

Here's who's helping: Cooper.

Here's who's hurting: Travolta.

If you want to be a Cooper, please give to the Red Cross. It's nonsecular and $cientology-free. Fuck Travolta.

Twit fight! Twit fight!

2010-01-06T21:57:00.003-05:00

I'm totally embarrassed that I even know about this, but deliciously evil gossip blogger Perez Hilton and professional whore Tila Tequila got in a Twitter fight today and I found it totally hilarious for some reason. See, Perez (probably correctly) assumes that Tila is using the recent death of Johnson & Johnson heiress Casey Johnson to further her whoredom. Tila, of course, is completely offended that anyone would insinuate such a thing. But she's a whore. So you decide.

Anyway, it really evolves into a fun little third-grade slappy fight complete with project promotion and masturbation denial. Lick it up:

Perez: I'm amazed you're not broadcasting live, showing us you're "grieving"! That's totally something trash like you would do!

Tila: have some decency! You love poking fun at people who have passed away dont you? First Mocking MJ's Death & now My FIance's?

Perez: Tweet away, honey. The more you Tweet, the more your true colors reveal themselves. And they are vile! You should try and get custody of her daughter. That'd be GREAT publicity, all you crave in life!

Tila: Actually Casey & I were going to do that next. That was my Wife's wish was for me to adopt ava. Ur jus jealous nobody loves u.

Perez: OF COURSE that's what she wanted! Suuuure! Why would anyone believe YOU???? You are a PATHOLOGICAL LIAR!

Tila: Lonely @perezhilton Cant find anyone else to pick on so now he thinks he can pick on me cuz I'm in a vulnerable state with my wife passing

Perez: And I DO have decency. That's why I will NEVER mention you on my site again. I care too much about my readers!

Tila: Truly a sad individual @perezhilton first u Mock the death of Michael Jackson and now this? U seriously need God. Wait. God Rejected you.

Perez: Go back to grieving and exploiting her death. You're great at being soulless!

Tila: oh after watching your bitch crying snot throwing video about how my friend @Iamrealwill punched U..it was 2 embarassing!

Perez: SEE! You do my job for me! Using her death to publicize yourself and your projects. Applause! Thanks for proving me right!!!!

Tila: Everyone just forget about @perezhilton he's lonely and bored so decided to pick on me at a time when I an mourning my Fiance. Good Job Pig! oh please. Stop lying to people pussy prezz! U say u stopped posting about me years ago. Then u delete it then u post again. U act as though I want my name on your website? Oh honey please get a grip. Nobody gives 2 shits. Especially me about ur site.

Perez: Keep on at it, girl! Go! Go! Go! You're digging your own hole!

Tila: Keep talking all that non-sense piggy prez @perezhilton but just admit the truth & that is you're now threatened by my new Gossip Blog.

Perez: Yup, that's the truth! You're a fucking genius! Ha ha ha ha

Tila: what does my deceased fiance have to do with you and your lonely life? Im lonely cuz my fiance passed away. What's ur excuse?

Perez: Bitch, please. I see right through you. You are paper thin! P.S. You're a shitty actress! You gotta learn to fake it better!

Tila: oh wait. U have no life. No one to love you. Never got engaged, wished u were a woman but in ur words #epicfail move along now.

Perez: I have the love of my mom and my sister. True love! Something you obviously know nothing about.

Tila: see? @perezhilton tries 2 start shit w/anybody when he's lonely. He lies 2 his readers pretending to hate celebs but in real life kisses ass

Perez: If my mom died, I wouldn't be granting repeated interviews about it! I wouldn't be Tweeting repeatedly about my grieving!

Tila: But we all know that about him by now, so his website is no longer credible. It was cool like 6 years ago but now its all washed up w/lies.

Perez: This is not about Casey Johnson. This is about YOU and how disgusting you are! And how ur using her death for ur gain! Gross!! And if somebody I cared about died, I wouldn't be fighting with anyone on Twitter!!!!!!!!! You are your own worst enemy. That's why YOU'RE new website is gonna be awesome! Woo hoo! Publicize that new website girl! Kill Casey again! That new blog is gonna be awesome! Too bad Casey didn't die after you launched it, right? That timing would have been great!

Tila: On my new Gossip Blog, u get EXCLUSIVE MATERIAL & I won't lie to my readers like @perezhilton does. Never. My Gossip site will shit on his!

Perez: If Casey Johnson could come back from the dead, she'd come and fucking kill you for how you've been behaving! #YouAreWack

Tila: keep my Fiance's name out of your foul mouth U piece of trash! Have some respect! Casey hated your fatass! So shut the fuck up

Perez: You are so blind! This is not about me. This is about YOU! This is about how vile you are and your actions recently. You lose!

Tila: its about me? I thought you said you didn't care about me or mention me? Why are u all up in my business then? Hmm stalker much

Perez: Guess you're done "mourning" your wife! Now go back to showing your titties and pulling tampons out of your coochie!

Tila: Another lie from @perezhilton claiming he doesn't care about me cuz I'm a "nobody" yet he is constantly stalking my life & everything I do!

Perez: Look up the word "constantly" in the dictionary, you imbecile. You clearly don't understand it's meaning. You may always wanna look up the word imbecile, as you probably don't know what that one means either. Violence is never the answer, but I hope one day @Rihanna gives you what you have coming!

Tila: hey u better be careful who u talkin to. You're SO LAST YEAR! Just be careful cuz I got all of my paparazzi's on LOCK!

Perez: Bitch, I'm not scared of you. You are a JOKE! And the paparazzi can suck your cock! You're like the boy who cried wolf! Remember how you told everyone you were pregnant and then said you were joking?

Tila: First of all I never pulled no damn tampon out nor masturbated..those were YOUR LYING WORDS once again. Get a life! and yes I do remember saying I was pregnant. I dont recall how I lied about that? Just cuz I wouldn't tell ur fatass wut hppnd?

Perez: You are a PATHOLOGICAL liar! You will do ANYTHING for publicity! You have no soul! Go back to your fake grieving now!

Tila: You must REALLY be obsessed with me 2 go on and on and on about me this early morning. For someone who doesnt care, u really do

Perez: I'm done with you. Buh bye! xoxo

Tila: So sad @perezhilton is angry that my new Gossip Blog is going to put him out of business so he decides to throw a hissy fit this morning LOL

You know, I was totally against Twitter at first. I mean, who cares that Joe Blow is making dinner or taking a shit? But I didn't even consider the crazy celeb fights that would erupt! Maybe I should keep an eye on Blohan's account...

HNY 2010, bitches!

2010-01-01T01:01:00.000-05:00

13 biggest douchebags of 2009

2009-12-29T20:42:00.001-05:00

Ah, the year-end list. If it isn't reduced to list format, it didn't happen in the last 12 months. Today, we're covering the biggest morons of 2009. It's hard to narrow it down...and it's also hard to not feel like I'm not helping to make folk heroes out of jerks. There's no such thing as bad publicity? Probably true. But I still wouldn't want the whole world to hate me.

13. John Mayer
If I used John Mayer's music as a guide, I'd probably view him along the lines of a James Blunt/Chris Martin-style purveyor of mush pablum. But I also know from the tabs that he's a manwhore who thinks Jennifer Aniston is the classiest broad on the face of the earth, and I know from Twitter that he thinks he's fucking hilarious. He posted "ad Tweets" on his account as some kind of brilliant social experiment. For example, one said "Guys, I just had an amazing soup by Campbell's, Steak and Potato. See all of the great varieties of hearty soups." Don't get this guy in a prank war with Kutcher...the Twitterverse might blow up.

12. Kanye West
WHY CAN'T THE PUBLIC LEAVE KANYE ALONE?????? C'MON...WHO AMONG US WOULDN'T LOVE TO GUZZLE A BOTTLE OF HENNESSY AND INTERRUPT A GOODY-GOODY POPSTRESS TO SING THE PRAISES OF BEYONCE?????? ROCKITQUEEN WOULD LOVE TO DO THAT!!!!! ROCKITQUEEN ALSO LOVES TO SPEAK IN THE THIRD PERSON AND TYPE IN ALL CAPS AND OVERUSE PUNCTUATION!!!!! WHY CAN'T Y'ALL JUST LET ROCKITQUEEN BE GREAT?????? OH WAIT, THIS IS ABOUT KANYE!!!! IMMA LET YOU FINISH, KANYE!!!!

11. Gwynnie
Because we can't have a list of douches without mentioning our old friend Wet Spinach, although I think someone over at GOOP shot her up with tranqs because the newsletter has been relatively tame of late.

10. Dov Charney
I really want to like this guy because he employs American Apparel clothing constructors at a decent, livable wage, provides good benefits and makes all the clothes in the U.S. However, his epic skeevery outshines any good deeds this clothing mogul has done. It's hard to decide what's worse: his crimes against his employees (he has countless sexual harassment suits against him and regularly fires workers he finds unattractive) or his crimes against fashion. This is the guy who tries to push gold spandex unitards, scrunchies and neon green disco shorts paired with legwarmers as hot looks. TODAY. Not in an Olivia Newton John video. Unacceptable on all counts.

9. Carrie Prejean
Carrie identifies herself as a godly person, talking the talk with the most pious of them. But when it comes to walking the walk, well, just take a look at the likes of Rush Limbaugh, Ted Haggard and 99.9% of Republicans to see where this is headed. It's not that she came out of the closet as a dissenter of same-sex marriage at the Miss Universe pageant—she's entitled to her opinion. But poor little Care-care believes she's being discriminated against for being conservative...because people disagree with her. And then it then all comes pouring out that not only did the pageant pay for her boob job, but she also made some naughty little solo fuck tapes for the benefit of her boyfriend. And she says Larry King is inappropriate...

8. Kirk Cameron/Ray Comfort (tie)
You may remember Kirk as Mike Seaver, best friend to Eddie and Boner on the '80s supersitcom Growing Pains. Or you may remember him as one of the most popular poster boys in such literary journals as Bop, The Big Bopper and Tiger Beat around 1986-87. And if you have no life (like me) you may also remember him switching bodies with Dudley Moore in the oft-forgotten teen classic Like Father, Like Son (also starring a post-Goonies, pre-Rudy Sean Astin as "Trigger"). And if you really have no life (like me), you may remember him in the horrible kid-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks-joins-snobby-college-debate-team romance Listen to Me, opposite Jami Gertz. You may also know that Kirk has gone on to become a smug psycho Christian. He and his protheliser-in-crime Ray Comfort recently visited college campuses to hand out copies of Darwin's Origin of Species with their own little intro about how Darwin was a nazi and, actually, goddidit. Let's see: brilliant naturalist with years of tireless research under his belt or star of the WB's Kirk!...who should we listen to? Here's a hint: it's not the one who calls a banana the "athiest's nightmare."

7. Kate Gosselin
Kate reminds me of my bipolar ex-boss. Big shudder. They're both obsessive-compulsive, have weird haircuts, fight incessantly with their lazy husbands, and have prissy, stupid faces. But Kate and her family have somehow become (in)famous, which means we have to hear "her side of the story" on every news outlet for every little issue from her money problems to her tummy tuck. All I can say is thank god I don't have to see ex-boss everywhere talking about this stuff.

6. Spiedi
Who are these people? And why are they constantly on magazine covers and on TV? Is there anyone out there that actually demands to see or read more on these two?

5. Octomom
If you ask me what annoys me the most about Nadya Suleman, I'm hard-pressed to choose just one thing (although the way she says "babies" is really close to the top). There are just so many other things to choose from. She uses herself as a human petri dish and uses student loan money and state handouts to fund it. Her own parents think she's a raving lunatic. She yells and screams at the help. She's got that weird Angelina Jolie obsession. The best part of the whole debacle so far was when the paps filmed her 2-year-old kid slapping her in the face and calling her a bitch. The whole world is with you, kid. The whole world is with you.

4. Everyone behind Megan Wants a Millionaire
Bleach blonde golddigging skank-slash-Rock of Love reject? Check.
Seventeen "millionaires" vying for the love of/chance to buy stuff for said skank? Check.
Background checkers to make sure none of the millionaires have the potential to marry a Vegas stripper mere days after meeting her, brutally kill her and pull all her teeth out so she won't be identified, stuff her in a suitcase and throw it in a trash bin, drive to Canada and hang himself on a coat rack in a no-tell motel? Oops!

3. The entire Heene family
Sadly, one of the iconic images of the year is of that giant flying Jiffy Pop bag sailing over Colorado. And that stupid balloon had more personality, brains and connection to reality than the family that built it.

2. Jon Gosselin
I actually had some sympathy for Jon at one point in my life. Kate is such a cunty shrew! But now, every time I see the latest paparazzi pic of Jon slouching around New York in a bedazzled Ed Hardy shirt (or is it Quacker Factory?), he looks more and more like a sagging globule of protoplasm with greasy spikes on top of it and I hate myself for having ever felt for him. Gawker Media recently named Joe Francis the biggest douchebag of the decade (and yay for them), but Jon is certainly in the running to win the award for fastest flunky-to-douche transformation of the last several years. It's like watching your dad going through a really uncomfortable midlife crisis. One that includes hanging out with fellow slimebag Michael Lohan.

1. Chris Brown
The only person who could beat out the Gosselin is someone who beat the tar out of pop princess Rihanna, which everyone got to see via that horrifying photo. If that wasn't enough to make him ass of the year, he then proceeds to go on a national TV tour in freaking bow ties and Mr. Rogers sweaters to practice his sad face and say he's sowwwy about "what went down." Hey, Chris, "what went down" is that you brutally beat your girlfriend (who by the way handled the tragic situation with a very mature sense of responsibility), yet somehow you seem to view yourself as the victim. Then, to dig your career grave to exactly six feet, you publicly call out Oprah the Great for not supporting you, sensitively referring to her dis as "a slap in the face". As of this posting Chris is on approximately appearance #12 on the Bow Tie Apology Tour, which he's on to promote his new album. Time to go away forever, fuckface. Thank you, and good-bye.

All I want is what I have coming to me—all I want is my fair share

2009-12-08T19:18:00.007-05:00

A Charlie Brown Christmas aired tonight and we all know how excited I get about this. Don't we all? But I have to say, watching this as an adult Mrs. Crabapple, it's difficult not to notice the irony in Sally's letter to Santa compared to (a) the times we are living in and (b) my last post:

Dear Santa Claus, How have you been? Did you have a nice summer? How is your wife? I have been extra good this year, so I have a long list of presents that I want. Please note the size and color of each item, and send as many as possible. If it seems too complicated, make it easy on yourself: just send money. How about tens and twenties? All I want is what I have coming to me. All I want is my fair share.

And don't forget Lucy's infamous Christmas gift request from Santa:

Lucy: I know how you feel about all this Christmas business, getting depressed and all that. It happens to me every year. I never get what I really want. I always get a lot of stupid toys or a bicycle or clothes or something like that.
Charlie: What is it you want?
Lucy: REAL ESTATE.

Um, maybe next year?

That being said, for as big of a bitchy cynic as I can be, the simplicity and sweetness of this show and its message always just warms my little black heart. I relate to Charlie: "I know no one likes me. Why do we need a holiday to emphasize it?" Sweet little bald Charlie! They used your head to design jack-o'-lanterns! They served jelly beans at your Thanksgiving! They made you take the wrong route in the fork of the stream when you were racing for your life! But it doesn't matter because when it comes down to it, the show is named after YOU.

Rock n' roll. And happy holidays.

It's that time of year again!

2009-11-26T23:01:00.004-05:00

Please take some time to offer a moment of silence for Jdimytai "Jimmy" Damour. One year ago today, Jimmy was trampled to death in a Wal-Mart by a bloodthirsty crowd of Doorbusters who assigned more value to flat screen TV than to a poor hapless employee's life. To make the story more depressing, Jimmy was a temp worker who was probably making $7.25 an hour. Most likely less since it's Wal-Mart.

This year, Wal-Mart has instated a brilliant plan to cut down on Black Friday stampedes (and annoying lawsuits from the families of dead employees). This morning, customers were allowed to herd in early and line up beside the product they want to cage fight over. Ingenious! Let them all biting each others' noses off for Rock Band in little groups around the store instead of in one big murderous mob. It's probably easier to pull the bodies out that way.

I may make it a yearly S&C tradition to relay some Black Friday horror stories, because you know this Wal-Mart plan is going to produce some. Here are a few I found online.

Some early bird shoppers were using shopping carts to block aisles in the store, and some even abandoned their carts some 10 feet inside the store entrance, so that other shoppers wouldn’t get ahead of them in the mad rush for merch.

In 1997, the most dangerous toy of all was created: Tickle Me Elmo. For some reason, everyone needed to have a red monster who giggled and vibrated, and they would go to all means necessary. Hustlers rushed to stores on Black Friday, to later sell Elmo online for up to $1500. An employee at Hot Topic was injured when, as he was holding the last remaining Elmo, a group of shoppers literally attacked him. He suffered a broken rib and a concussion.

I crossed the street from my house, and went to cross the parking lot intersection immediately thereafter. Not being a complete idiot (I hope) I looked both ways, saw traffic slowing for the stop sign, so I foolishly ventured across the road. And was promptly, and rather painfully, hit by a late '90s Dodge Ram. So while I sat on the curb waiting for the police to arrive, I remembered why exactly it was that I lock myself in the house on the day after Thanksgiving, but also that other people should do the same. The woman that hit me (other than apologizing profusely) said she was "too busy looking at ads" to notice me.

I saw a guy holding a sign that said "will suck dick for God of War."

If you're shopping today, please be nice to the employees. I realize it's hard when you're surrounded by sick, screaming children, greedy assholes and other failures of humanity, but it might be the one ounce of human decency and kindness they've experienced all day.

P.S. That stupid Jane Seymour "double heart" necklace looks like boobs and a butt. Dr. Quinn should stick to medicine because she sure ain't a jewelry design woman. Har har.

My new life ambition: corporate drone by day, avant garde popstress in Alexander McQueen by night

2009-11-10T19:12:00.003-05:00

Finally, someone cares about making music videos again. Lady Gaga, I want to be you when I grow up.

She's so fucking awesome. (Anyone else think she looks like Amy Winehouse meets Gwen Stefani?)

For the Bird

2009-11-09T19:41:00.004-05:00

My crazed obsession with all things Sesame Street continues. I've been eagerly checking in to Google every day to see how they've done their Sesame-themed logo in honor of the show's 40th anniversary (they've been doing it for the past week). Now the New York Times has run an interview with one of my personal heroes...Big Bird! There are also some great questions and comments from Caroll Spinney, the 75-year-old puppeteer who has played Big Bird (and Oscar the Grouch) since the beginning. Because I love it so, I'm reproducing it in its entirety here. Sunny days!

On Tuesday, “Sesame Street” will celebrate its 40th anniversary with the usual array of songs and life lessons about numbers and nutrition and a special guest, the first lady, Michelle Obama, on hand to help out.

Meanwhile, Caroll Spinney, the puppeteer behind Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch, and Carol-Lynn Parente, executive producer, are answering questions from Times readers this week.

Mr. Spinney has embodied both the yin and the yang of “Sesame Street” since the show’s debut. Below, in the guise of everyone’s favorite Giant Golden Condor (who knew?), he responds to queries about Big Bird’s weight, about his dreams and about the existential nature of Mr. Snuffleupagus. Mr. Spinney, the puppeteer, and Ms. Parente also weigh in where appropriate.

Dear Big Bird,
I love you. How many brothers and sisters do you have?
—Jessica

“None.”

Is Big Bird a boy or a girl?
—Alanna

“Boy.”

Hey Big Bird! How much do you weigh?
—Ashley

“I’m light as a feather!”

Dear Mr. Bird,
Do you know of any bigger birds? If not, what’s the next biggest?
—Parker

“An ostrich.”

Hi Big Bird! What species of bird are you?
—Danielle

“A Giant Golden Condor but I’m really a lark.”

Hi Big Bird!!! I’m a huge fan. My question: Why are you yellow??
—Eike H.

“Because my mother and father were yellow.”

Are you naturally blond? In one photo, I thought I spotted a few dark feather-roots. Also, do you plan to go gray naturally? If so, will this just be your head, or your entire body?
—MaineGrammy

“Of course I’m a natural blond! I’ll never go gray I’ll always be blond, just like my mommy.”

Dear Big Bird,
Why is the Mexican Big Bird green? Are you related to him?
—André

“Yes, Abelardo is a parrot and he is my cousin!”

Hi Big Bird! What is your favorite letter and why?
—Annie F

“B! On my mailbox it says ‘bb’ and it stands for Big Bird — and that’s why.”

Dear Big Bird: Do you sleep on a tree and what do you dream about at night?
—Gwen, age 3

“I sleep in a nest and I dream about other birds.”

Hey Big Bird! What’s your favorite book and why?
—Victoria L

“The Audubon Book of Birds.”

Big Bird, do you have a favorite song?
—Rick

“LA, LA, LA.”

My kids insist that Cookie Monster has been transformed into “Veggie Monster” for the sake of political correctness in our overweight world. Please say it isn’t so!
—Aaron

“It isn’t so! Cookie Monster still loves to eat cookies. But now he also likes to eat healthy foods like carrots, and knows it’s alright to eat foods like cookies sometimes.”

A question for Oscar: Does he still have that elephant in his dustbin?
—Linus F (Trinidad & Tobago)

“Fluffy, yes. Fluffy still lives in my trash can — not my dust bin.

Hello Mr. Bird,
Snuffy was always a figment of your imagination. After revisiting the show during a wave of nostalgia, I noticed everyone is now friends with Snuffy. How did the change come about?
—Janis Haddock

“Snuffy’s my best friend, he was never imaginary! It was just a matter of poor timing. Sometimes I would ask Snuffy to wait for me in one spot, then while I was away he would leave to go put on a tie or brush his teeth. And then when I came back he would be gone! But then one day he finally stuck around, and everyone could see that my friend Snuffy was real after all. I was so glad that day, because then I knew that my grown-up friends on Sesame Street would always believe me when I told them something that unusual but still true.”

CAROL-LYNN PARENTE: “It was always unclear whether Snuffy was real or just conveniently absent when anyone other than Big Bird was around. We decided to confirm that Snuffy was in fact a real friend of Big Bird in the mid ’80s when there were several incidents of child abuse in the news and there was some concern whether the investigations done with children could be believed. We didn’t want to model the adults in the community not believing Big Bird and an episode was written for his big reveal.”

How do Muppeteers sustain arms-over-head positions for extended periods required for “Sesame Street” segments? Are there fans in Big Bird’s (and others) costume?
—Meg in DC

MS. PARENTE: “Puppeteers are in extraordinary condition to sustain such physical performances. There are not fans or cooling devices in the Big Bird or Snuffy puppets. We limit the amount of time the performers can be in costume by taping the show in shorter segments that all get put together in post-production.”

Mr. Spinney,
Have improvements in technology inside the BB costume made your job easier over the years? I’m thinking of your vision, microphones and what I must assume is the high temperature inside the costume under studio lights and long takes?
—Victor

CAROLL SPINNEY: “Jim Henson rigged up the monitor and the harness and the microphone that I used and the set-up is exactly the same as it was from day one. Forty years later, I still use the same system but I have replaced the batteries. Believe it or not, the costume is not as hot as you would think — and I take off the top feathers approximately every seven to ten minutes so I get to cool off between takes.”

How do you feel about the changes that have been made to “Sesame Street” over the years? Also, how do you feel about the fact that when the DVD set of the early “Sesame Street” years was released, it was labeled as not suitable for young children? (I was a young child then, and I don’t think it did me any harm!)
—Lisa

MS. PARENTE: “I love that the changes to ‘Sesame Street’ let a new generation of children feel like this show was made for them. This isn’t their mommy or daddy’s ‘Sesame Street,’ but it does still have everything their parents loved about the show. The humor, the characters, the neighborhood that is ‘Sesame Street’ is still intact, but the visual and audio style reflect what appeals to children today.

“As for the label at the top of our ‘Old School’ DVD releases, the warning is a product of the changing times. There was and is nothing about that content that is harmful, however, it was made in a different time, when for instance, we would have modeled children riding bicycles without helmets and riding in cars without seat-belts — things we would no longer choose to do for the safety reasons.”

I know that excerpts from the first seasons are now available on DVD. But are there any plans to put entire episodes on DVD, say of the first five or six shows? Also, will the first two record albums ever be available on CD?
—Andy

MS PARENTE: “Our ‘Old School’ DVD releases actually include several full show episodes from the early years. It is possible that we will continue that series with additional releases of more shows.

“We are currently exploring release of several of our best selling albums for CD or digital download release. Stay tuned!”

Snow blows

2009-10-28T20:25:00.000-04:00

I've been gone for a minute, now I'm back with the jump off. And with Halloween on the horizon, our topic today is, of course, most frightful.

A couple months ago, I blogged about aging, strident '70s bimbot Suzanne Somers and how she's followed up her illustrious career in television (RIP Step By Step) by going on to earn about 10 doctorate degrees in various medical specialties, including dermatology, internal medicine, oncology and, of course, obstetrics and gynecology. Her tireless research on the aging process led to the groundbreaking discovery that women can literally turn back the clock by taking more than 40 supplements a day, drinking sludge smoothies, slathering non-FDA regulated hormone cream on your arms, standing on your head and shooting estrogen into your cootch with a syringe.

Oh wait, I mean that she's actually an aging strident '70s bimbot who DOESN'T have any kind of medical degree, yet still writes books and goes on every talk show to yap about her ridiculous and dangerous snake oil treatments to anyone who will listen. This is a woman who is a cancer survivor and had a hysterectomy and is still too stupid and arrogant to admit that maybe, just maybe, her witch doctor-approved regimen caused her to get sick. And what a surprise! Research even shows that unregulated hormone therapies, like the ones Suzanne takes, can lead to—dun-dun-DUN!—CANCER!

Certainly we could never expect a celebutard like the woman behind Chrissy Snow to admit she may have been wrong. Of course not, because she wracks up quite the windfall from all this quackery. Among the amazing products Suzanne endorses and sells under the Somersize™ and Suzanne™ umbrellas to help people waste money and cling to their pitiful attempts to reclaim youth:

• The infamous ThighMaster, "the best way to tone, shape and firm your inner thighs with just a few squeezes a day" ($19.99)

• The FaceMaster facial toning system that promises to "tighten all 22 facial muscles" and includes "finger wands for one-handed results," whatever the fuck that means and I know what it sounds like it means ($228.95)

• Suzanne-endorsed Life Extension Weight Loss Blood Test ($324)

• Endorsement of the NeoStem stem-cell bank, which "harvests" your own stem cells for future disease prevention ($7,500, plus an $800–$1,500 "mobilizing agent" fee and $62.50 monthly storage fee)

• Endorsement of LifeWave®, a company that produces some kind of homeopathic patches that "communicate with the body through the human magnetic field" to give one more energy, better sleep, joint pain relief, smoother skin, weight loss, etc. ($19.95–$89.95 per pack)

• Clothes and accessories, including Crystal Wing Sunglasses encrusted with Swarovski crystals ($50)

• The SomerSmile® Get White ($50) and Stay White ($20) tooth-whitening systems

• Somersize™ brand kitchen products, including the 5-liter electronic flash fryer ($59.95)

• A line of foods, including a Sour Apple Martini Mix, featuring Suzanne's own SomerSweet® sugar substitute ($9.99)

• A bunch of books on topics ranging from weight loss to being sexy to alcoholic parents to childhood abuse to chocolate recipes.

Grand total: at least $9,145.33 to be cool like Suzanne. Gee, Suze, it's so expensive to desperately grab for youth and beauty. Just how am I expected to keep this up and still make my car payments?

Anyway, the reason I bring this up now is because Suzanne is currently making the rounds to pimp her new book Knockout: Interviews With Doctors Who Are Curing Cancer and How To Prevent Getting It In The First Place. With all the preventative measures Suzanne takes, it's shocking that she still ended getting cancer and having to get a hysterectomy. I guess that's what makes her an expert on medical issues. It's kind of like when I became an expert on dental health after a nasty bout with a toothache. That experience led me to start practicing dentistry. But without all that school and stuff. I needed to get my message out and didn't have time to waste.

I also like how Suzanne has a never-ending supply of tantalizing personal tragedies to reveal every time she releases a book. This time, she claims she was misdiagnosed with "full body cancer" by some mean doctors who tried to kill her with evil Western medicine and suck her into the Big Pharma conspiracy. In reality she had valley fever, a fungal infection that is rather common in the southwest U.S. Her story is very dubious; among her questionable claims, she never reveals the name of the hospital or doctors who treated her...why wouldn't she? I'd sure as hell would want to know if this type of blatant malpractice was going on at my local hospital. But no. Instead she continues to advocate her alt-med dumbassery and blowhard about her precious horse pill regimen.

Now, I know I'm preaching to the choir, as by default, Stupid & Contagious readers are of above-average intelligence and wouldn't think of taking medical advice from the former star of She's the Sheriff. But that's not going to stop me from complaining because I'm so sick of seeing this dumb bitch's plastic face everywhere and I find her quest to stay young sad and pathetic. Like anyone is going to believe she "stays youthful" with creams and pills. So chemo is bad, but having plastic sacs installed in your boobs is a-ok? Also, I've got news for Suzanne—if all this crap is supposedly working, take a look at a close-up paparazzi shot. Bitch looks haggard.

Most of all, Suzanne's bullshit is insulting and offensive to anyone who has, had or knows someone with cancer (and we all do). This is a woman who reacted to Patrick Swayze's death from pancreatic cancer by saying, "They took this beautiful man and they basically put poison in him. Why couldn't they have built him up nutritionally and gotten rid of the toxins in his body? I hate to be this controversial. I'm a singer-dancer-comedienne. But we have an epidemic going on, and I have to say it." Chrissy Snow has spoken and the results are to be as expected. That bitch put the boob in "boob tube"!

Anyway, my blood pressure has topped off and It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is on! Come to think of it, a quote from Linus perfectly sums up the thought process behind anyone who would look to Suzanne Somers for medical advice: "Everyone tells me you are a fake, but I believe in you. P.S. If you really are a fake, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

It's All Saints Day and everyone's Irish

2009-10-02T18:47:00.002-04:00

The sequel to one of the greatest violent movies ever—The Boondock Saints—comes out on October 30 an it actually looks pretty fucking cool. And Peter Fonda is in it? Totally there.

Check out the trailer here.

Plenty of bitchery to come soon.

It's getting worse

2009-09-08T19:40:00.001-04:00

This is a formal call for a protest against Frito-Lay. I ask all my friends to please, please, please stop eating Frito-Lay snacks, no matter how delicious they may be, and rip this sexist company a new one with complaint letters. And I mean *all* my friends, not just the gals. No one is safe from being made to look like a moronic, superficial dimbulb in the Only In A Woman's World advertising campaign.

I've covered this idiocy before, hoping that my ridicule (and that of countless other blogs) would shame Frito-Lay into aborting the campaign and spur the company into begging women for their forgiveness. And maybe offering some free bags of Miss Vickie's chips.

But no. Instead, they've created four new rampantly offensive "episodes" featuring the same stereotyped, neurotic, body-obsessed, man-crazy "gals" that set off my rage—you can read all about 'em in my original post linked above.

I'm just going to recap the new ads for you here, but you sort of have to see them to believe them.

• The Asian chick is in her yoga class (of course!) and her class rival enters the room. Asian immediately becomes competitive (OF COURSE!) and struggles to stretch into more difficult poses than the rival. As they're folding both legs frontways over their shoulders, the rival falls and Asian smirks! She won, she won! But then the class ends and the joke's on Asian because—ho! ho!—she's stuck!!

• The blonde is struggling to fit into her jeans. She screams at her husband for putting the pants in the dryer, but he swears he didn't. Hubby tries to help her pull them up but her muffin top is in the way. He says "I love you?" as a question. A message pops up that "Every woman has a story. Tell us yours and you could inspire our season finale!" Oh, boy!!! I should totally tell them about the time I tried to get into a really crazy yoga pose to one-up this flexible, skinny lady in my class and I GOT STUCK! Or about the time I couldn't get my jeans on because I gained some weight and I blamed it on the dryer!!! LOLOLOL! Oh, women and their simple, simple lives!

• The black chick is running like a maniac down the sidewalk as if she's being chased. She vaults over a wall, slides under a plate glass window being carried across the street and jumps with Six Million-Dollar Man sound effects before falling face flat on the ground. She gasps as a man's shadow looms above her. Is it a rapist, mugger or murderer? Worse—IT'S HER PERSONAL TRAINER! He says, "You should run with me, not away from me" and she claps like a child saying, "I ran! I ran!" OK, FUCKING SERIOUSLY???

• The black chick is upset because her hubby hired a hot new secretary. The blonde's reaction is to force her to watch a porno, which grosses her out, but apparently gives her the idea to dress up as a slutty nurse to get her husband's attention. In the midst of her awkward seduction, Hubby reveals that he had to fire the hot secretary because she "wasn't working out." This prompts Black Chick to throw off her stilettos, remove her chicken cutlet bra stuffers and storm out of the room. Hubby then picks up the chicken cutlet, squeezes it and smiles creepily.

So, let me get this straight: she's upset that he hires a hot secretary because...why? Duh! No man can be trusted around a supposedly beautiful woman. So her friend's advice isn't "get some self-esteem and get over it," like mine would be, but "check out 'Naughty Nurse Enema Sluts 27'", which (1) disgusts her because god forbid any woman should feel comfortable watching porn, and (2) somehow gives her the idea that she needs to do something she's obviously completely uncomfortable doing to get her FUCKING HUSBAND'S attention. Then, when he makes a seemingly innocent comment, she runs out of the room angry for no obvious reason and he is rendered speechless and drooling by a fucking fake breast.

So let's summarize what we've learned here:
• Women are so crazy about being perfect that they'll turn everything, even the activities they do for relaxation, into a competition and feel a smug sense of superiority when others fail.
• If women gain a few pounds and can't fit into their jeans, men should blame the dryer, or else stay out of their way because women are crazy.
• It's OK to suggest a woman is being chased and about to be attacked if the outcome is "funny."
• Women hate exercise and will do crazy things to get out of doing it.
• Men can't be trusted.
• Women are disgusted by porn.
• The only way to get a man's attention is by dressing slutty.
• Men are stupid.
• Women are CRAZY.

And the big questions still remains: WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS ALL HAVE TO DO WITH FOOD???? The products are never mentioned or shown! Somehow the ad wizards who came up with this one think they can trick their Stepford customers into thinking their adorable little ad campaign will brainwash them into buying Frito-Lay's "lite" products.

This really hurts because I love Frito, but this ad campaign is fucking ridiculous and offensive.

People, we are BEYOND this. We are in the 21st century, for christ sakes! Mad Men is FICTION. These ads are an embarrassment to all of humanity. Frito-Lay, drop whoever is doing this horrific ad campaign for you before you do irreparable damage.

Here is the contact info for Frito-Lay. No doubt it won't help since they obviously sunk loads of money into this campaign/rebranding. But it will sure as hell make you feel better. I'm going to really spend some time on mine to make sure I cover every single aspect that pissed me off.

If I sound like one of those crazy women, I don't care because I AM! It's the 40th anniversary year of Woodstock! Let's fight the power, people! Sisterhood is powerful! We're not gonna take it, no we ain't gonna take it! Grrrl power! Riots, not diets!!!

Wish I was...

2009-09-06T00:57:00.007-04:00

Sorry for all the videos/pics/fangirl/non-substance/absence of bitchiness. There's plenty of shit coming, I promise. In the meantime, here's a fairly rare one and an old fave: Jane's Addiction's official "Ocean Size" video (possibly NSFW, depending on how your desk is positioned). It = kickass. Holy crizzap, it's like I'm back in college again...

A is for Awesome

2009-09-02T18:42:00.006-04:00

Been a little short on inspiration lately, until I saw what follows. It's a tribute to Sesame Street for the show's 40th anniversary. If you haven't seen this, drop everything and check it out. So awesome. I'll never forget the episode where Mr. Hooper died.

Also, god help me, I am now on Twitter. You can friend me or whatever at rockitqueen13.

Whole lotta love

2009-08-20T19:32:00.002-04:00

Happy 61st!

The grand wizards of shitty folk

2009-08-10T18:13:00.000-04:00

Longtime readers of this very blog may remember my write-up on Lynx and Lamb Gaede. They're the adorable little Olsen twin look-a-likes that make up the folk music duo Prussian Blue. Oh, and they're also white supremacists who like to build Hitler snowmen and brand their cattle with swastikas.

No word on what these two are up to. I couldn't find any information on them past January 2008. The twins are 17 now, so maybe they're off to college or married the Unabomber or something. No matter—whatever they're doing now, Prussian Blue better set up plans to record in the Mariana trench or something because they've got some competition!

Heritage Connection is the phat, fresh, new name in national socialist folk-pop. The group essentially rips off Prussian Blue line by line. Cute blond teenage siblings? Check. Violin and acoustic guitar? Check. Provocative poses with white power flags? Check. Ear-splitting caterwauling? Check infinity.

The band consists of sisters Shelby and Charity Pendergraft, the granddaughters of Thom Robb, the national director for the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. In the excellent book Them: Adventures With Extremists, author Jon Ronson describes Robb as the KKK leader who doesn't use the n-word. Robb is attempting to remake the Klan as a kinder, gentler kind of hate group and has compared the organization's infamous white hoods to ties that businessmen wear to work—it's just a tradition, dontcha know? He's protested against the Martin Luther King, Jr., holiday, but says his approach is "gentle, upbeat and friendly."

Anyway, Robb's granddaughters have recently sieg-heiled their way into the limelight with two recently released CDs, Aryan Awakening and Standing Our Ground. The latter's cover features the girls standing on a mountaintop in modelish outfits and poses and waving a flag that bears the legend "White Pride Worldwide." Like, cute!

The songs cover the old predictable vanguard faves—immigration, interracial relationships, apocalyptic race wars, yadda yadda. But that's not why they blow. Shelby and Charity are horrible singers. Horrible. If you didn't think it was possible to sound whiny and monotone at the same time, check out Heritage Connection. Dogs all over rural Arkansas are clapping their paws over their ears as we speak.

Far more interesting than the girls' music is their blog, which in a rare showing of integrity, I'm not going to link to. If you're really interested, look it up. I found it occasionally eye-opening and informative. For example, did you know that Eureka Springs, Arkansas, has been "overrun by queers"? Playing there was "an interesting experience", but left the girls feeling "sick to our stomachs." Now I want to go to Eureka Springs immediately. What kind of delicious, stomach-churning faggotry is going on in this city? It sounds like fun!

The girls complain that the JCPenney in their town "is starting to look like a Mexican recruiting station." What is that, exactly? And why won't the Mexicans recruit me? I love chimichangas! Ironically, the girls later talk about how they had delicious enchiladas for dinner and how their family "loves Spanish food." Isn't a love of food that ends in vowels grounds for recruitment? If not, what is??

Overall, the blog is devoted to describing in excruciating detail everything the girls and their family consumed at various gatherings and holidays. There are a couple of declarations of undying devotion to Ron Paul. And there is talk of a Spongebob Squarepants birthday cake. Hypocrites! Spongebob is a Communist!

Of interesting note: an article on Heritage Connection on the Southern Poverty Law Center's website points out that the girls' site is decorated with various European flags, including one from Ireland. Don't the white power-ists hate Catholics? Newsflash, homeschool idiots: Ireland is predominately Catholic.

What's the point of this post? To make fun, of course. This is the best music they can come up with to represent their cause? They'll never take off because they're lulling their followers to sleep! And Allah help us if they team up with Prussian Blue and do a tour of bunkers and windowless cinderblock buildings. Girls, when you make up your rider, don't forget to request those yummy tacos!

On a side note, did you know the KKK's finance guy is known as the Grand Goblin? I smell a band name!

A day off is a day ON at Stupid & Contagious

2009-07-20T14:30:00.000-04:00

Today is a vacation day in Rockitland. Yee-haw! And what better day to spend it than by catching up on Stupid & Contagious. We have quite a bit of ground to cover, and it unfortunately involves that whispy scarecrow known as Gwyneth.

Since Gwynnie is so upset about the big meanie bloggers who are constantly trashing her STOOP newsletter (they just don't get it), I've decided that it would be free publicity and a major boon to my blogging career if I can get her to squall at me personally. So I'm going to be extra mean today!

And why shouldn't I be? Bitch gives the worst advice. You remember back when I wrote a fake GOOP newsletter for my April Fool's Day post? Well, turns out I wasn't too far off.

The first example appears in her June 18 newsletter, which focuses on "healing." Great. More new age fuckery. My favorite. Gwen opines "In fact, those many little [acupuncture] needles have helped me through many an ailment. Eastern medicine has a different approach than Western medicine—it’s more holistic. The root of the problem is addressed, as opposed to a symptom being attended to with prescription medication, only to return."

I know that our favorite pile of wet spinach went to a hoity-toity private school in New York. It may cost a lot of money, but the teachers there don't have to actually be licensed, as they do in public schools. So who gets the more authoritative education? Hard to say. Either way, it's obvious Gwyneth was twirling her hair and writing mean things about the ugly girls in her slam book during science class.

She continues:

Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful as hell for a round of antibiotics or surgery when necessary, but I have been helped tremendously by all of the practices below that help the body heal itself. When implemented by a professional with experience, the benefits can work wonders.

But Gwynnie, antibiotics and surgery are so Western. And they don't really get to the root of the problem. Plus, it just looks so much cooler to have needles sticking out all over the place and and a little Asian woman gently ringing sound therapy bells. I've got a little control test for you to try, Gwyneth—the next time you get sick, how about trying those antibiotics and prescription meds without the "complimentary" add-ons?

This painfully stupid intro is followed by an interview with a "Chinese medicine practitioner" who goes on and on about how herbs and shit are virtually ignored by snooty Western scientists. She then mentions energy flow and "Qi" and life force. Gag.

Here's where the newsletter starts sounding a lot like the April Fool's Day post. Gwynnie's diploma mill doctor offers a few ancient Chinese secret follow-up remedies:
• Ginger tea with raw brown sugar for menstrual cramps
• Castor oil pack for joint pain
• Neti pot for clearing out the sinuses
• Dry brushing for healthy skin and lymphatic system
• Goji berries with chrysanthemum for red, dry eyes

You know what else is natural? Poo. Do they ever use that in ancient healing practices?

Next we're introduced to cupping, another therapy that was invented during the Tang Dynasty and involves glass jars, fire, alcohol and baby oil. It may sounds like a night at Bob Guccione's house, but it's allegedly supposed to create some kind of suction vacuum on the patient's skin for...what exactly? Relaxation? "Healing?" Who knows, but it leaves these really gnarly marks on you and also can also burn your flesh off. Way to recommend there, Gwynnie. What's next? Bayonet therapy? Hey, cutting is supposed to help people relieve stress, so why not?

The July 9 STOOP newsletter might be even worse. Gwynnie bitches that she gained a bunch of weight "during a majorly fun and delicious 'relax and enjoy life phase' about a month ago." Imagine that. Dare to have fun and enjoy life and you turn into a giant unlovable fat ass, like Gwynnie's character in Shallow Hal. Stars...they're just like us!

Anyway, what's a girl to do? Cleanse, cleanse, cleanse! Gwynnie recommends Dr. Alejandro Junger's Clean detox program. He claims the cleanse will rid the body of toxins and you won't have headaches and irritable bowel syndrome anymore or something. Basically, he doesn't give you any of the rundown and the post is essentially propaganda for his program. Buy it! Gwynnie did! She was able to restore her cornstalk-like physique after a crazed week of face-stuffing.

After her hearty endorsement ("I feel pure and happy and much lighter... this thing is amazing!"), Gwen reminds us to ask our doctors if a cleanse is right for us. You mean those Western-medicine-practicing shills for Big Pharma?? No way! I'd rather drink nothing but mashed wet spinach juice and whey so I can be skinny like Gwyneth Paltrow!

God, could she be any more clueless? Wet Spinach is such a moron. Don't follow her advice. I'll tell you how to make yourself feel better for free: replace Aussie Cheese Fries with fruits and vegetables and do some exercise. When you're sick, go to the doctor. If you're considering alternative treatments, consult Quackwatch and What's the harm?, not STOOP.

Ug, I can't believe I've just wasted half my day off on Paltrow. Time for a "relax and enjoy life phase" for the rest of the afternoon.

America: Fuck yeah

2009-07-04T11:25:00.002-04:00

C-A-T spells 'Rhode Island'!

2009-06-27T09:36:00.001-04:00

Holy, crizzap, I'm the worst daughter ever! I totally forgot to post this last Sunday for Father's Day in honor of MY PA! Happy belated day, RockitPop!

Frito-Lay is on my shit list

2009-06-26T21:15:00.002-04:00

Is it too soon to blog about something other than Michael Jackson's death? I'm still not totally convinced he didn't fake it and move to the Cook Islands.

Fuck it. This has been bugging the shit out of me for a while.

I used to eat Baked Lays chips all the time, 'cause they're pretty good. But now, I just can't bring myself to reach for a bag while grocery shopping, thanks to the Frito-Lay Only In A Woman's World advertising campaign. And I thought Martyrs was scary. But the first time I saw one of these commercials, I was truly horrified. I literally stared, mouth agape, in disbelief at the television even after the two-freaking-minute-long ad ended. Have you seen this stuff?

Against my better judgement, I had to know more. Yes, it's true: Frito-Lay, makers of some of the most delicious salty snacks in all the land, including of course Fritos, Doritos, Cheetos, Tostitos, Funyuns, Miss Vickies chips and Ruffles, are now marketing their Baked Lays, SmartFood and Flat Earth (i.e. "lite") products to chicks with the most inane, vapid and stereotypical advertising they could possibly come up with.

The ads center around four cartoon broads with no noses and club hands who are "navigating life and love" and "fab, funny, fearlessly female." Yes, everyone...they have uteruses and they're not afraid to use them! Something tells me the people who came up with these ads *don't* and *are*.

The campaign's website has bios of each of the chicks. We have Anna, an Asian chick who loves yoga and is a journalist (which is one of those acceptable careers for women in TV and movies, along with teacher, interior designer and event planner). Then we have Cheryl, a black mom who ignores calls from her personal trainer and "sometimes finds herself wishing the annoyingly perfect super-mom next door would have a mental breakdown." Next there's Maya, fashion boutique owner who "hides how much she spends on shopping from her husband." Finally, there's Nikki, an arty singleton who says, "Shopping for cereal was a lot more fun when I cared more about the toy than the fiber!"

We'll get to the blatant female stereotypes in a sec, because we also have a lot of fun racial and looks-based pigeonholing here, too. The Asian does yoga. The black woman drops everything to be supportive. The blonde has big boobs and loves fashion (and lies to her spouse about her out-of-control spending). The redhead is wacky and flighty. It's like According to Jim in cartoon form.

Now we get to the "webisodes." This explains why the original commercial I saw was way too fucking long. They're all meant to be like mini, comic Sex In The City episodes. The first one introduces us to "the girls." One is wearing control top panty hose under a bikini. Another destroys a scale because "we had a misunderstanding." The redhead eats a cookie standing up because "then it doesn't count, right?" (Huh? I don't get it). Already, I have no further interest in any of these people, cartoon or not. Nor do they resemble me or anyone I know. And yet, I forge on for the sake of Stupid & Contagious.

So. I'm going to just give you a little rundown on each of the webisodes, and we'll go from there. And oh my freaking god, there are NINE OF THEM.

• OK, this is the one I saw on TV that left me catatonic with disbelief. The "premier" starts off with the blonde using a Thighmaster and chanting "bikini, bikini, bikini." When the phone rings, the Thighmaster flies across the room and breaks "her skinny mirror." The redhead is crying and all the gals assemble to be good shoulders for her to lean on (and one even gets a crotch buzz from her vibrating phone and blushes) and of course she's sobbing over a guy "Giancarlo" who is leaving her. After the ladies run through a cavalcade of guys the redhead has obsessed over, she reveals that Giancarlo is her hairdresser. And that's when they all go apeshit.

• One of the ladies has the flu and the friends stop by to cheer her up, 'cause that's what true friends do! The sick one says she hasn't been able to eat in days and she's lost four pounds. The others gush "You're so lucky!" and she says "I know! I can almost fit into my skinny jeans!"

• The blonde is having coffee with the black chick before she leaves for a vacation in Mexico. The black chick asks her if she's ready "all over" for a getaway. OK, have you ever in your life asked someone if they're ready for a vacation by asking them if they've waxed? I mean, SERIOUSLY?? Anyway, it gets worse: the blonde then imagines herself disrobing at the beach and people running and screaming because she's pale, hairy and had unclipped toenails. For the love of god...

• One of the gals is at a cosmetics counter with very rosy cheeks. A blonde bimbot says "love your blush". Gal says "Hot flash!" What the hell does this have to do with chips? They are never mentioned or shown!

• The gals are discussing a beautiful day and saying, "You know what this means!" Picnics! Horseback riding! Outdoor yoga for the Asian! And...bikini season! Suddenly everyone is depressed and ordering shit with skim. Again, what does this have to do with chips?? And if this is supposed to encourage us to eat something, this is a really bizarre approach...

• Asian yoga chick is having a nightmare. First a glasses-clad feminist says "Women can do anything!" Then, her mother pops into her mind to say "where are my grandchildren??" Feminist says, "We're more than baby factories! We're strong independent human beings!" Mom says, "You can have a career after the kids leave home!" Then a boyfriend-type character wakes up and puts his arm around her, which sends her into hysterics, yelling, "I can't take all this pressure!" Then mom says, "You should never make the man in your life feel inadequate, dear!" Again, no chips and WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK??

• Black chick's husband says they're taking a little Mother's Day trip to a B&B and he's packed her bags for her. They're wearing robes, sipping champagne with their club hands by a warm fire. She says she thinks she should "change" but her brain-dead hubby didn't pack anything that matches!! She bitches at him for not bringing makeup...but he did! A curling iron and some kind of compact! "But I don't curl my hair!" she screams. But she really doesn't care, it's the thought that counts. Then they go out for dinner and *everyone* is staring at her and gasping in horror at her mismatched outfit and garish makeup. Because when you go out, you have to wear makeup even when only shitty, outdated makeup is available . Criminy.

• The blonde is negotiating with a diner chef to have one more piece of pie. She's got plates piled up all around her, like she's had two whole pies already. She told him one slice ago to not respond to threats to his family for another. But then she says, "You do something for me and I'll do something for you" and winks. Jesus H. Christ, she's going to BLOW HIM FOR PIE?? Instead, she gets in his face and demands it, so he gives in. When she's done scarfing it down, she says, "Why did you let me eat that?" OK, pie...not chips. And are we supposed to eat the product or not?? I'm so confused!

• The blonde and Yoga Asian are on treadmills and Blonde is listening to a self-help tape, chanting "I'm bringing out the thin within. Size is just a state of mind. The only thing holding me back is me" and turning up the speed on the treadmill. Her friend asks what exactly the tape is supposed to accomplish and she responds, "To help me maintain control...and fit into a certain dress by Friday." Then she flies off the treadmill and the friend quips "I'm sure that dress will look great...over your full body cast!" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! When women try to control themselves, it always ends in hilarity!

So here we have:
• Hysteria over hairdressing
• Shoe worship
• Jealousy over other women
• Frivolous grooming
• Weight loss through physical illness (and praise for it)
• Depression over "bikini season"
• Total freak-outs over food
• Men portrayed as clueless idiots
• Compulsive exercise
• Ad nauseum mention of cankles, water weight and hot flashes

What exactly is the goal here? Are we supposed to eat Baked Lays, SmartFood and Flat Earth snacks or not? Because all these ads seem to be geared toward guilt over putting anything in your mouth besides a penis. I mean COME ON! Offensive doesn't even begin to accurately describe this. It's also completely convoluted! In essence, they're saying "Hey, here are our salty, delicious snacks! Since you can't control yourself and stop from eating them, we'll make you feel as guilty as possible for being a fat, vapid failure." Why don't chip companies advertise their wares by showing drunk chicks pigging out on salty snacks with no remorse whatsoever? Funny, clever AND realistic!

I'm guessing this all went through a rigorous testing with sample audiences made up of real women, right? So we can't completely blame the stupid, sexist marketing nitwits. That means some people actually think this is funny and clever. I mean, they've completely rebranded their "lite" products, so obviously a lot of money, time and planning went into this. Just like the ads that show women climaxing over cleaning products, it's meant as distorting feminism to think worrying about this stuff is empowering.

With only 30 seconds to showcase a product, I understand that advertisers don't have time to be completely politically correct in commercials. But come on...this shit is PLAYED OUT. If your target audience is dieting women, be straightforward. Say, "You love chips and these chips taste great and have less calories." It's as simple as that. Don't pander to your audience by trying to relate to women through ridiculous stereotypes. I, for one, would love it.

Plus, men diet, too. It's true! The new kinder, gentler packaging and "women be shoppin'" advertising is excluding at least half your audience. If the chips aren't selling, it's because they're too fucking expensive! Not because of your commercials. Come on, ad agencies...can't we all just get along?

Either way, I'm buying Pringles Lite until they straighten this BS out. At least they fill the can to the top instead of filling half of it with air.

PS The website also invites you to "be one of the girls" by creating your own noseless, club-handed avatar. That's me above. Don't you just love my yellow shoes? Totally hot, right?

Feather for Farrah

2009-06-25T18:06:00.004-04:00

We've lost another television queen today. Farrah Fawcett passed away after a particularly nasty battle with cancer. In honor of this Hollywood legend, I've feathered my hair.

If you've never seen The Burning Bed, be sure to check it out. Farrah is awesome in it.

UPDATE: I will not be blowing out my hair in honor of Jacko, FYI.

True tales of horror and depravity

2009-06-19T01:06:00.002-04:00

Men reject their prophets and slay them, but they love their martyrs and honor those whom they have slain.
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I'm not even sure where to begin on this one. It's taken me a while to really post on it, because the movie made me think for a while. Wow...it's been a while.

Not too long ago, I thought Funny Games was the scariest movie I've ever seen. If you're a horror fan, watch the original Austrian version. If you're a watch-through-the-fingers type, watch the American version, starring Naomi Watts, Tim Roth and Michael Pitt. Both will elicit equal amounts of horror, depending on your horror experience. The American version is a shot-for-shot remake of the original by the same director, Michael Haneke. It's just scarier for horror fans when you don't know the actors. At least for me.

Part of why I'm writing about this now is the impending U.S. release of Lars von Trier's Antichrist. I've only seen two von Trier films and loved/was emotionally scarred for life by both. If you haven't heard about this movie, it stars Willem DaFoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg, and that's it. Yes, that's THE Charlotte Gainsbourg, originally made famous by the creeptastical duet she did with her father Serge at age 13, "Lemon Incest." And it features a rusty-scissor clitorectomy. Which caused some haughty Cannes attendees to require medical attention.

The horror genre has needed a slap in the throat since Hostel, in my humble opinion. In order, the scariest movies I ever seen were Halloween, The Omen, Rosemary's Baby, The Last House on the Left, The Exorcist, The Changeling, (the George C. Scott one, not the Angie J. one), Hostel, The Ring...and now this.

I watched Martyrs. This is a French horror film that's been getting quite a bit of buzz. On Rotten Tomatoes, it's divided exactly down the middle: 50/50 positive and negative reviews. Some say it's the torture porn disguised as a "higher meaning" thinker. Others say it is brilliant, brutal and groundbreaking.

This is officially the movie that is taking horror to the next level, again, in my humble opinion. No one is terrified by seeing slutty high-schoolers or dopey sorority chicks getting slashed and burned anymore. And because of the never-ending Saw franchise, no one wants to see people who deserve it in general get it in a super-creative way anymore. Now it's all about the higher meaning.

If you're a horror fan, don't click on that Rotten Tomatoes link...actually DON'T READ ANYTHING ABOUT MARTYRS if you haven't seen it.

As a horror-movie aficionado, I can tell you I have never seen anything like this. For a while we were all fascinated with the Japan/Asia horror films. Battle Royale, Ringu, Ju-on, A Tale of Two Sisters, Shutter, Ōdishon, One Missed Call...all good movies (some of which were made into inferior U.S. versions [excepting The Ring, in my humble opinion]) that inspired an uprise in supernatural horror. Now, it's all about the French. I couldn't make it through Man Bites Dog.

But I made it through this, albeit reluctantly, because it was not only completely horrifying, but also completely compelling. What the fuck is going on? Spoilers: it goes from supernatural horror flick to revenge flick to supernatural horror flick to OH MY FUCKING GOD horror flick to existential I-think-I-almost-understand-why flick.

I love violent movies, but this has the most horrifying abuse I've ever seen put on film. As a bleeding heart, it was really hard to make it through...but it's worth it to stick with it. The acting is superb, the story is fantastically intriguing and the horror is most certainly not torture porn. But you don't really know until you reach the very end. Just stick it out, if you can, and you'll be thinking about the movie and its themes for days. It will make you wonder why you watch this stuff and why you like it, and you'll be glad it's only a movie, but you'll still feel really dirty for a long time, if you're like me...and if you're like me, you'll love it. 'cause it's totally smart and brilliant and a horrifying look at human fear.

Now consider that there are currently negotiations going on to make an American version. WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD? Why can't people just let good foreign horror movies be? Once you've seen it, try to imagine it being made with, say, Megan Fox and Jessica Alba in the two lead roles. Completely ridic and depressing.

So I think because I made it through Martyrs, I might be able to finally make it through Man Bites Dog. And I've been told I need to give Cannibal Holocaust a try. Um, OK. I love all you sickos who recommend these movies to me. Watch Martyrs and we'll go from there. Love ya!

P.S. Serious horror fans, don't even bother with Inside (À l'intérieur). Stupid and like a V.C. Andrews novel come to life. Casual horror fans, see it immediately, 'cause it's pretty good! But just not really that scary.

All about Awkward

2009-06-18T20:10:00.002-04:00

I have to do a short, praise-y post about my new favorite website Awkward Family Photos. I seriously laughed my ass off for an hour. Unfortch, I'm not able to surf the net with the ease that I used to at work due to firewalls, exposure, etc. But this is an awesome way to kill some time when you're bored at work or a any other time. Please be sure to check out the comments because they really make the site. And also it will make the compound bow jokes make sense.

Rock n' roll.