Bend It Like Assclown

There is no greater honor than being a Charolastra

2006-06-26T13:02:00.000-07:00

Fuck Doug! I'm not going out like this! He said, "Man, I'm all I got and I won't be missed." This makes no sense. This makes no sense to me. Time for Musings!

- Diesel, I'm gonna get this over with for you early. GO THE SOCCEROOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Yes, that is the Australian language construction for cheering for one's team. If Dan Uggla cloned himself and named the team after himself and his clones, we would say, "Go The Ugglas!") With the U.S. out after their colossal choke last Thursday, I'm putting my full support behind Australia. Also Ukraine, ancestral homeland of Miss Jones' family. The Ukraine is strong! Busy day for me since Australia's taking on Italy as I type and Ukraine battles those crafty Swiss later in the day. If any of y'all aren't generic honkeys like myself and would like a little World Cup love for your sponsors, speak now or forever hold my piece, I mean your peace.
- Italy's goalie's name is Buffon. That's kinda funny.
- Anyone see that goal by Beckham yesterday? Yes, he "bent" it, just like one would hope. I had just woken up and flipped the England-Ecuador game on. While I'm not necessarily a fan, just indifferent, even if he did partially inspire the name of our fine forum, it was fucking awesome. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnV7xTokYdM&search=beckham. GOOOOOOOAAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!
- Saturday afternoon, Argentina beat Mexico 2-1 on a "golden goal" (that's an overtime goal) by Maxi Rodriguez. I thought about not even mentioning this because if I ever told you about Maxi, you'd only say I don't know what I know. (8yearoldsdude, you're probably the only one with a shot at that).
- OK, here's something I really didn't want to mention. Time for the Bend It Official Major League Baseball Player Dan Uggla Watch! To quote Placebo's first good song ever, "Someone call the ambulance. There's gonna be an accident." Dan Uggla is injured. Hamstring. He is listed as "day-to-day," which of course sparks Keith Olbermann's famous quote, "We're all day-to-day." Anyway, I hope this does not portend ill winds in other facets of life. Perhaps if we all simultaneous meditate and hope for his recovery. A-ooom! A-ooom! (Christ, I don't know a better meditation onomatopoeia. That's the one I learned when I was 9).
- Speaking of baseball, you'd hope someone who manages a team known as the Tourists (Ashville, NC) would conduct himself with the same class that we do. Sadly, this was not the case. However, it is pretty damn funny. http://sports.espn.go.com/minorlbb/news/story?id=2500470.
- So I was watching a bit of the College World Series championship and UNC's star relief pitcher is named Jonathan Hovis. Seriously, if he doesn't enter the game to, "H-to-the-Izzo," then I'm giving up on life. And if they don't have player music in college, because I really don't know, when he strikes someone out, he better say, "Riddle me this, who better than HOV?"
- In Saturday's NHL Draft, the Washington Capitals selected a goalie named Semen Varlamov. I'm gonna leave this one to y'all if you want it.
- In one of the more unfortunate segues ever, so I was out at the Chicago Pride Parade yesterday. OK, I better amend that statement; I attended the Chicago Pride Parade yesterday. Non-particularly shocking irony of the day, if I were trying to meet women, the Pride Parade probably would be a Top 5 place to do it.
- I did have my camera phone in tow, which I really needed Saturday during my trip to Sheffield's for a friend's birthday, as the Giant Douche Cam would have been in full force, were in not on my coffee table. Naturally, most of my pictures came out horrible, but I do have a special treat for y'all later this week with the one photo that did.
- I think the best sign I saw, at least not related to George Bush, was the Lee Lumber (a local home improvement store) had a sign proclaiming, "We've Got the Best Trim." I have a free burrito coupon for Chipotle, which I don't even like, that's emblazoned with the words, "Homo Estas." I haven't quite decided whether that's in good taste or not, coming from McDonalds. I think the moral dilemma of the day came from the Broadway Youth Center float, which had two "yoots" topless except for pink tape over their nipples. I was trying to decide or not whether I should be looking.
- What I didn't see, but not for lack of looking, was the one thing that seemed inevitable. An "Eat Me" cake float that turns into the Delta DeathMobile. Sponsored, of course, by the Chicago White Sox.
- So I was doing a little guest fashion commentary last week and it's only fair that I plug the site. It's a DC-based "Sex and the City" themed site. As far as I can tell, I don't actually know any of them, thought I've been trying to figure it out since one of them surfed over here and complimented Zekers' bunny, Zeke. You'd think I'd hate it, considering the occasional level of celebrating gamesmanship, but I really do enjoy it. They do a really good job of breaking down certain social situations. I've been trying to broker a deal to get them to do some guest fashion commentary over here (I mean it's only fair, right?), but haven't been having a lot of success. But that doesn't mean I won't send people over there anyway. http://justanotherman.blogspot.com. By the way, nice color scheme.
- I guess on that note, it's time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner Part 1! Saturday I saw a woman wearing a short-sleeve black shirt that was off-the-shoulder on the left shoulder. I really wasn't quite sure what to make of it. I mean, it wasn't like Flashdance off-the-shoulder, but you could see her entire left shoulder and collarbone and upper chest area, no cleavage whatsoever. I was slightly confounded in that I couldn't look away. After repeated staring, it kinda worked. I don't know how much of it was the shirt and how much was the woman herself and maybe it was just a good synergy of style and person. I guess I'd have to see it on other people to form a cohesive opinion, but it was easily the most interesting thing I saw all night.
- Speaking of fashion, most, including the site that posted this, would simply gasp in horror at the dress, or I think that's what it is. I think I'll look for the positive and remark at Kristen Bell's ability to still look gorgeous while wearing this atrocity of a dress, or whatever it is. http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/06/fugten_bell.html.
- Now if we're really talking atrocity, if Nelly Furtado wants to thwart her attempts at being a "Promiscuous Girl," this is a fucking fantastic way to do it. http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/06/so_you_think_yo.html.
- One more, and this one's for the ladies. D-Nozz, ladies and gentlemen! http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/06/celebrity_terro_1.html.
- Time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner Part 2! Thursday I saw a woman wearing a tubetop with a ruffle on it. Oh, the humanity!
- OK, while we're still on fashion, I read today that Slate is coming out with a 10th Anniversary book. While I'm sure that in 1996, when it started, they were discussing the finer points of Maxx Headroom, they have taken it upon themselves to start re-posting columns from the book. Because they know that anything is better than the shit they have on now. And for once, they're right. I kinda enjoyed this piece about low-rise jeans. Sure, it's not perfect and could have made a better statement about fashion's place in cultural evolution or devolution, but hey, it was on Slate and didn't suck. http://www.slate.com/id/2143246/.
- Speaking of Slate, they had a current piece that was almost OK. Until the end when he ran when he refuses to support his statement of why it was the "best bad celebrity interview ever." Sorry, dude. It's not res ipsa loquitur when the quote is gibberish and conflicts what you said about the interview content. http://www.slate.com/id/2144188/?GT1=8295. Man, you were so close. I think the 10th Anniversary book should be called, "Almost Competent."
- For some unknown reason, sparked by a comment by my inner monologue, my insult du jour over the weekend was "date rapist." That's probably not a good thing, considering that date rape isn't particularly funny, the classic Sublime song aside. Yes, I know I got the expression from "Mallrats."
- In my quest to find a new bar within walking distance to replace the dearly departed Lucille's, I actually did come across one I enjoyed, at least while uncrowded. Matilda's. Snarky signs proclaiming their specials were, "Not a damn thing," which mercifully wasn't true and that one must be 23 to enter. Most importantly, a jukebox that featured Interpol, Echo and the Bunnymen's "The Killing Moon," as well as "Baby Got Back." In the words of Woody from "Cheers" in his Veggie Boy commercials, "I like it!"
- Speaking of "Baby Got Back," I don't think I've posted this since JoshuaTrees showed this to me in the pre-Bend It days. Anyway, someone got the idea to translate the first half of "Baby Got Back" into Latin and then translate said Latin back into English. I really have no idea why, but it's verily hilarious. http://quislibet.livejournal.com/164084.html.
- And now, the power of marketing! Saturday, I walked by TJ Maxx on my way to the video store, as I do every time I walk to the video store. And I immediately began singing the song. From 1986. Come on, y'all. You know what I'm talking about. "Dit-a-dit-dit, dit-a-dit-dit, TJ Maxx!"
- Naturally, I'll follow this by hammering Starbucks for a mind-bending decision. So for those unaware, Starbucks runs a faux-Italian theme, and has since I can remember. That explains away some of the spellings and one of the most frequently asked questions as to why half coffee, half hot milk is called a "Misto" when most of us, especially those who took French, learned it as "Cafe Au Lait." It's the same thing. So now that they're putting the "concept" of half iced coffee, half cold milk on the menu, they're calling that "Cafe Con Leche." Which is Spanish for "Cafe Au Lait" or "Misto." Which makes no sense for at least two reasons. First, there's no reference to ice, and I had a hot "Cafe Con Leche" a week and a half ago. Secondly, it breaks the faux-Italian theme. I tried to figure out why they'd do this and it served as the Starbucks equivalent of the South Park "Chewbacca Defense." Seriously, the only way to not come across like idiots is to call it "Iced Misto." Yes, you've entered the realm of Shit Only Tristan Cares About. Mi casa es su casa.
- And finally, since I'm talking coffee shop, I have to give credit for some fellow snarky barista-ing by a dude working at The Fixx (Sheffield and ... Christ I don't know, right near Belmont, right by Matilda's) with a short mohawk and earrings. The woman I was in there with ordered a small iced coffee and the dude says to me, "Let me guess, you're gonna get the exact same thing." He was right, of course. But what exactly did he mean in saying that? Either that A) we looked not only like a couple, but one of those couples who would order the same thing, or more likely, B) that she was so completely out of my league that it had fried my brain and I knew that he knew that I knew it. Yeah, definitely a little Admiral Stockdale in my facial expression. Well played, that dude.

How will you know if you've found me at last? Cause I'll be the one, be the one, be the one, with my heart in my lap. I'm so tired. I'm so tired. And I wish I was the moon tonight.

Just get a monkey, and ... torture the hell out of it

2006-06-23T11:45:00.000-07:00

OK, so I'm sorry to report that Postman Pat had a little trouble crossing the pond and will be a little late with our mailbag. (Shhhh, this is code for I don't have enough time to write it). Maybe if Sir Walter Raleigh lay down his coat, Postman Pat would have an easier time crossing. Because everyone knows about that, right?

Anyway, the good news is that I've pulled some more clips from The State. Including a few favorites of some of our Tourists. For instance, Zekers and Footnotes have both named this delicious-looking sketch as their personal favorite: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ghMpHE5qAk0&search=the%20state%20mtv.

Hey, Senor Beavis, you might be thinking. What's your personal favorite? Well, it just might be this. And remember, you have to say it as one word. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbjIFbhHIpo&search=the%20state%20mtv.

8yearoldsdude grew up watching this with you. What's his favorite? I think it's this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pvloza4TZHY&search=the%20state%20mtv. Although it might be the MonkeyTorture one.

What's the best random-ass 30-second short clip? Oh, I don't know. This one? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_VrwOtyfSaQ&search=the%20state%20mtv.

Hey, why do you use the expression, "International sign for ____" so often? Maybe because of this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y8BYn8-tdm8&search=the%20state%20mtv.

And finally, you know how I love beep-out humor. Well, you'll have to wait until next week for Battle of the TV Censorship Sketches. Have a great weekend.

For one brief and shining moment, Dusty Baker's not the dumbest manager in Chicago

2006-06-21T14:04:00.000-07:00

I think Dusty Baker is the worst manager in the major leagues. And I still will tomorrow. He NEVER holds players accountable for not hustling or making boneheaded plays. Rather a hug and a pat on the ass. He "asked Sammy Sosa's permission" to move him down in the order. You're the manager, you donkey-clown! It's your team and you can do what you want. Unless you have no balls like Dusty Baker. He plays Neifi Perez. OK, that's bad enough. But also plays him against a right-handed pitcher when a left-handed hitter with a 100-point higher batting average is sitting on the bench. As a radio caller said, "Who cares if Neifi Perez is a switch hitter. All that means is he has the ability to be bad from both sides of the plate." Most importantly, managing a team that should institute the Little League strategy of taking the first pitch every at bat until they learn a modicum of patience, Dusty Baker says shit like this:

"I think walks are overrated unless you can run. If you get a walk and put the pitcher in a stretch, that helps. But the guy who walks and can't run, most of the time they're clogging up the bases for somebody who can run."Who's been the champions the last seven, eight years? Have you ever heard the Yankees talk about on-base percentage and walks? Walks help. But you ain't going to walk across the plate. You're going to hit across the plate. That's the school I come from. It's called hitting, and it ain't called walking. Do you ever see the top 10 walking? You see top 10 batting average. A lot of those top 10 do walk. But the name of the game is to hit."

You dumb fuck. You want as many guys on base as possible. In theory, the Cubs should be the best team in the whole league since they don't have those pesky baserunners clogging up the bases. However, this may be the most backhanded compliment ever, but Dusty Baker is at least smart enough to go on record as using homophobic slurs.

Yeah. White Sox manager Ozzie Guillen referred to shitty Chicago Sun-Times columnist and ESPN personality Jay Marriotti as a "fucking fag." On the record. http://www.suntimes.com/output/couch/cst-spt-greg212.html. I don't like Marriotti as a columnist and probably wouldn't as a person, but that's reprehensible. Guillen can insult Marriotti as much as he wants, but how hard is it to limit yourself to insults that do not insult a significant percentage of your city, country, and world. Even Hawk Harrelson, who I hope gets hit by a train today if not tomorrow, at least has the decency to call Marriotti nonsense words like "heiniebird." When Hawk Harrelson AND Dusty Baker are smarter than you, you know there's a problem.

Is it possible I'm holding a piece of information for dramatic effect? Yeah. Let me now take this opportunity to mention that the Chicago Pride Parade is THIS SUNDAY. I'm guessing that the White Sox aren't sponsoring a float this year. I wonder if Ozzie Guillen is planning to skip Sunday's game and go heckle the participants. Personally, I think Ozzie should have to be in the parade so everyone out there both marching, riding, and watching in support of gay pride and gay rights can throw shit at him.

The best, and by "best," I mean worst, part of this is that this isn't even the first time he's done it. Last summer, someone's microphone picked up Guillen calling some guy in New York who he claimed was his friend, a homosexual and a child molestor. There was a brief dust-up that quickly passed. Fans, media, and most of all, the team, let it slide like they always do. They said, "Oh, it's just Ozzie being Ozzie. He says outrageous stuff." "Outrageous" is saying Jay Marriotti should go have sex with a monkey. Calling him a "fag," once again, is reprehensible.

I've been really nice to the White Sox and their fans this season. I haven't used a nickname for the team in months. But I'd have to say that this is the epitome of trash. And you White Sox fans out there need to stand up and let Ozzie Guillen know that this shit is unacceptable. Bring signs to the game saying so. Boo the hell out of him. Let him know that the world is not his playground and that not everyone will bow down and kiss his ass while he spits on others. I don't see this is being any different from the John Rocker situation. As I was saying earlier this morning, he's not saying this by accident. It's his choice and one he's made more than once. So if everyone just ... pardon the expression, bends over and takes it, then y'all really won't just be rooting for the White Trash, you'll be it.

In the words of Jean-Paul Sartre, "Au revoir, go-phere!"

2006-06-21T12:15:00.000-07:00

OK, I apologize in advance, just on principle today. I’ve been trying to get this post to make sense for the last 3 days and it inevitably comes out as either A) gibberish, B) me sounding like an asshole, C) something that could be misinterpreted as Republican ideology, or D) all of the above. Also, E) Rangers Suck! (TM Diesel’s brother).

Anyway, I tend to be a great believer in free will. It’s a theme that comes up in many forms here and has from the start. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2004/10/everybody-funny-now-you-funny-too.html). But this has been on my mind a lot in the past few weeks in terms of potential strength and weakness. Part of a character study of sorts.

OK, let’s run a hypothetical for a second. I wish I had a classier example, but this has probably happened to everyone in some form, so it’s kinda the best I have. Say you’re either attempting to date someone or actually dating someone or whatever. And they go and sleep with an ex. Or some guy or girl they met out somewhere. Or Orlando Bloom. Regardless. They may or may not have cheated on you, depending on what your status is, but either way, it’s not good for you. They tell you, and as part of the conversation, they drop, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not proud of it.” And you, well, actually I don’t know what your take would be, but mine would be, “No, it doesn’t really.” Because it just seems so fucking weak. Seriously, I’d have a LOT more respect for them if they were just like, “Yeah, I wanted to sleep with X a lot more than I wanted to date you. I mean, I wasn’t getting anything from you and I just really wanted to sleep with him or her.” That’s at least the truth.

Either explicit or implicit in the person’s defense of his or her actions is the phenomenon of “it just happened.” Which is what I can’t respect. Because there is no such thing. Choices were made. Whether it’s altruistic, self-centered, utilitarian, or nihilistic, people do what they want to do in the moment. And they should own that choice. I’ve sure as hell done stuff that today I wish I hadn’t done, but at the time I did it, I wanted to, which is why I did.

I frequently tell myself that I expect too much from people and am kind of a hard-ass when it comes to people’s excuses. (It’s been a solid 11 years since I read Sartre’s “Huis Clos” (“No Exit”) in French, but that’s where my title comes from). For instance, I don’t accept “I was drunk” as an excuse for stuff. That probably comes from growing up in an alcoholic family, but when people do stuff while they’re drunk, it still impacts everyone else regardless. The law definitely doesn’t accept that as an excuse. I just say that you still make choices when you’re drunk. They may be different from the choices you make when you’re sober, but in the course of that drunken moment, you’re doing what you want to be doing. The hand of God isn’t forcing you to go home with anyone. The hand of God isn’t punching the guy who said your wife’s ugly.

Things don’t “just happen.” We either make them happen or let them happen. So at the risk of being an asshole, people who say, “things just happen” are fucking weak. They make choices, but then don’t want to take credit for having made them. It could be a self-attribution issue. It could be a control issue. But either way, shit, you gotta watch out for people to whom “things just happen.” Those are the people I’m not lending money to, or letting watch my kids, or letting go out on a date with my sister.

The opposite, or at least as I’ve been thinking the past few weeks, is an alternate definition of “poise.” The best definition I’ve come up with is “being in control of your actions, knowing that you're in control of your actions, and taking responsibility for your actions.” Basically, owning your actions. I guess technically, it would be situational poise. Or life poise. At the risk of sounding self-aggrandizing, I’ve never had a problem removing myself from any situation. This has also gotten me labeled “distant” and “cold” and “a loner,” but it stems from two things that are exceedingly important to me, which are control and trust. I always always always want to have control over myself. Maybe this comes from growing up in an alcoholic family too; I’m not sure. But if you throw me in a drunken situation with my ex, there’s no fucking way I’m any threat to sleep with her. Trust me, I’m very good at not sleeping with people. Some might say I’m better than anyone they’ve ever met. Send me out on a long night out and you don’t have to worry about me getting myself into any shit. The “things just happen” mindset is not one I’ve ever been able to understand. I have no problem throwing a stop sign on anything. And neither should you. I have a fucking horrible time trusting people, but those who have “poise,” I’m so much more inclined to try my ass off to trust them eventually. Those to which “things just happen,” no chance. Ever.

As someone who dreams about being a psychologist and thinks way too fucking much, I’ll be the first to tell you about all the complex layers of thought that occasionally go into any minute situation. But sometimes, things really are that simple. A little while back, a friend was lamenting the dating scene and said that all guys want to do is sleep with her and not date her and she said she “didn’t want to be that girl.” I wrote back, “That’s an easy one. If you don’t want to be that girl, don’t be.” She and I and whoever else can’t really control necessarily what people will be looking for. All we can do is control what we do. Why that’s such a radical concept for the “things just happen”s among us, I have no idea.

Also, mailbag on Friday, so if you have any more lingering questions, empower yourselves and send them in.

I'm a ballet mistress. Nothing is simple

2006-06-19T12:51:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna pick up some beer. Stay at home. And stare at my Claire Danes poster. She looks so bitchin'. She always listens. She never tells me I'm a loser, loser. Time for Musings!

- You know it's probably going to be a good day when you hear Weezer's "The Good Life" on the radio on your way into work. (I couldn't use it as intro or outro music because I already have). Even when you still have some nasty-ass whiplash from Saturday afternoon. My heart now shakes with dread as to what will now happen to me the rest of the day after saying this.
- So I went to a party last Saturday night (and Friday night too). I didn't get laid, nor did I get in a fight. Trust me on this, both results are good things. And so chosen. (Sorry, I'm foreshadowing an upcoming post). Anyway, as advertised, it was JoshuaTrees' bachelor party Friday and Saturday. I can't say I have any wild stories for y'all. I mean when you've got 3 single guys out of 10 or 11. When pretty much everyone not connected to the party itself jokingly asked me about the lack of strippers jumping out of cakes, I mumbled, "Stupid overly academic people."
- Friday night we went to the Second City mainstage show. Actually, the rest of them went out to dinner at (C0me and Dance With Me) Michael's Pizza, which I didn't need to mention, but it deserves the plug, while I tried to counteract my wicked sangria hangover from the night before. (It was worth every minute of it). Anyway, rather than the show we paid for, they were actually in previews for their next show. So we were essentially watching a dress rehearsal, which didn't quite seem fair to be charged full price considering I once saw previews of a Second City Detroit show for free. And they didn't even do an improv set afterwards. Booooooo! But it was still fun, and admittedly, kinda humanizing to see them fuck up here and there. Afterwards, we went to the Old Town Ale House, which I've generally never had anything nice to say about since it's usually overpriced, overcrowded, and populated with douchebags (although I could probably say the same for any bar around there). But it was mercifully uncrowded this time and as an added bonus, the cast of the show we'd seen came over for a drink and were all too happy to take pictures with JoshuaTrees. Wound up being a lot more fun than I expected.
- Next day started with a game of WhirlyBall. WhirlyBall is essentially jai alai in bumper cars. However, in an attempt to ... heighten the challenge ... they make the bumper cars extra bad. As in they never steer where you want and don't even go anywhere when you press the pedal about 35% of the time. So you kinda never know what you're gonna get. Plus they're kinda tiny, which puts adults in a position for some serious whiplash and I'd actually be worried to hit some smaller people as hard as I did. That said, it was a blast. Would you want Senor Beavis on your WhirlyBall team? Yeah, I think so. My much-derided by JoshuaTrees strategy of hitting the ball along the ground more than picking it up -- "This isn't floor hockey," said the bachelor -- was highly effective, and I definitely dished out a lot more punishment than I took. After some violent collisions with the wall early, I learned that if you get any speed going, you should just look for someone to hit because that beats the fuck out of hitting the wall. And it's more fun. I'll certainly admit to headhunting when I wasn't part of the play. I was a little too proud of almost knocking Sergio dizzy right before the buzzer in one of our games. A good time was had by all, but a better time was had by the winning team, which employed myself. And considering how much my entire body hurt Sunday, I can only imagine what some of the others felt like. We then watched the U.S.-Italy soccer game after WhirlyBall, about which pretty much everything has already been said, and then retreated for a poker game. Considering it was only my second time playing, I considered it a moral victory that I came in like 4th out of 8 despite some outstandingly bad decisions, mostly from inexperience. Naturally, once I lost, I immediately went outside for a walk, since there really is nothing more boring than watching other people play poker.
- So we went out to dinner at Mike Ditka's Steakhouse. While I rarely have good things to say about Mike Ditka's abilities as a football coach or radio/TV personality, I have to give him his props for the food, especially since I did read something about how he's more intimately involved with his restaurant than pretty much anyone else with an eponymous establishment. My steak was awesome validated by the fact that I ate it straight, no sauce or nothing. Great appetizers, particularly the pot roast nachos and giant-ass onion rings. As for sides, everyone at the table gave the dude sitting next to me a strange look when he ordered the table spinach and broccoli, but I wound up essentially splitting them with him and they actually made a much better accompaniment to steak than the traditional potato. Nice, lighter contrast. Plus, pretty much my two favorite non-mushroom vegetables. I even drank a shit-ton of wine, which I do pretty much never. The check, though I was more than happy to have underestimated it in the pool by $250, wound up hitting me for a tie for the most I've ever spent on dinner. I mention this not to be an asshole, but because it beat the colossal fuck out of the last time I spent that amount and I like JoshuaTrees a shit-ton more than the last person I spent that much on. (I think I worded that as a compliment enough to avoid the buzzer). Plus, someone spilled his wine and JoshuaTrees declared that the stain looked like Ditka. If that's not the sign of a good meal, I don't know what is.
- As an interlude, let me say that the Giant Douche Cam was derailed once again. And by what you'd think it would be. No, not a dearth of giant douches. That's NEVER a problem here. My problem is that my camera phone is abysmal at taking photos. That one I posted is the about the third or fourth clearest picture I've ever taken. I have a feeling that whoever designed these things are giant douches that are intentionally subverting the GDC by poorly designing it. You magnificent bastards. (shakes fist)
- The rest wasn't particularly eventful except that we encountered a bachelorette party at Goodbar. They were equipped with the "traditional" bachelorette party accessories. Wang straws. Wang party horns. A book of "scavenger hunt stuff" like getting a guy to tell you three things he hates to hear in bed (they didn't ask me), getting a "gorgeous guy to ..." well, I forget, but they sure as shit didn't ask me for that, getting a guy to give them his underwear. I was like, "No, I'm gonna be walking around a lot. I need that." Every once in a while, my being overly logical pays off. I did let them write, "I love big cock" on my arm with a marker, but I was crafty enough to get them to do it where it would be covered by my sleeves. They wanted to know why JoshuaTrees wasn't wearing boobs on his head. I have no idea what they entails or looks like, but between their stereotypical party and ours, I think we won. It also helped that all the guys there were really cool and easygoing.
- So back to our normal Monday festivities. Time for the Bend It Official Major League Baseball Player Dan Uggla Watch! The Uggla does not fear your authority. 8-22 this past week (.364) with one double, one triple, 2 homers, and 6 RBIs, giving him .314 with 11 doubles, 12 homers, and 42 RBIs for the season. And NOW people are starting to jump on the bandwagon. Said ESPN's Harold Reynolds, "He's got the best numbers of any second baseman in the league." ESPN's John Kruk almost enacted a full sentence in saying, "Should be an all-star." Welcome to the party, ESPN.
- Speaking of, allow me to welcome a fellow Nashville native (fellow to Dan Uggla, not me) to our little sewing circle and extend an official Bend It welcome to Fleurdelis, who now brings our Southern Belle total up to 1. See, we're all about diversity here. Brings our French major total also up to 1. And also brings our lawyer total and people who are married, engaged, or in serious relationships totals up to ... well, a lot. And what a way to start, weighing in with some crushing fashion criticism. If it makes you feel any better, we took a poll at a late juncture on Saturday, and voted 6-0 after seeing one, that what I've now found out from Fleurdelis and another source off site are called "empire waists," although we still call them "maternity shirts," suck. We have issued a joint statement that they better be comfortable.
- I definitely need a temporary name for my much-smarter-than-me friend that fed me this next item because she's been feeding me a lot of content and info over the past week. Hey, don't think I knew that June 16 was James Joyce Ulysses Day on my own accord, though I looked like a fucking scholar when I toasted it on Friday. (I did admit to learning that 24 hours previous during the toast, so I continued my 28+-year string of being overly honest, but not fraudulent). Anyway, because it's World Cup time, she's gonna draw the unofficial title of "Kasey Keller" until a better name surfaces. Reason being so I could give credit for this, a parody of Power Point about Hamlet and probably the awesomest thing (web content-wise at least) I've seen this past week. http://myrtle.co.uk/art/hamlet.
- The Chicago Cubs yesterday celebrated their 6th consecutive loss by signing their 5th round draft pick, pitcher and Notre Dame wide receiver Jeff Samardzija, to a 5-year, $ 7-mil contract. I'm not entirely sure why they did this considering he still plans to play in the NFL, but the Cubs now at least lead the league in one category -- draft picks who look like an ugly woman. Conveniently, here's a video of Samardzija's virtual twin. I apologize for the scarring. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/youtube/random-youtube-finding-of-the-week-180663.php.
- Speaking of Deadspin and ugly women, while this was not on their site, I followed the link to a correspondent's (yes, I'm very jealous) site and actually wound up with a really entertaining take on "Sex and the City." What were the odds on that? http://karmic-payback.blogspot.com/2006/06/o.html.
- OK, I can't let myself off the hook for this. I have to out myself for another "starfucker" moment. Last week, while in process of digging up the Globo-Chem sketch for Kasey Keller, and then for y'all, I came across the Mr. Show college basketball recruiters sketch, for which I dropped the link over to Deadspin, since it's the only sports-related Mr. Show sketch I can think of. Not only did they run it, but I also got an email thanking me from Will Leitch himself, which for me is kinda like getting emailed by Jesus. So first Maureen Ryan, then Will Leitch, if I can get an email from Kristen Bell, that completes the trinity and my life as we know it may cease to exist. Of course, I'm a bit jealous that they're discussing Mr. Show and I can't join in since I'm not an official commentator. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/college-basketball/the-direction-recruitings-obviously-going-181650.php. But you can't have everything.
- For the record, Scientologists would like you to know that they do not condone baby rape. However, they apparently think about it enough to question people about it regularly as a matter of official procedure. http://www.bestweekever.tv/2006/06/15/have-you-raped-a-baby-today/. There is nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- Not batting cleanup this week, it's time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner! Chicks wearing argyle sweaters. I wish I had a really good airtight logical reason for this item, but I don't. I guess not everything that goes into one's appreciation of fashion has to make sense. Now this invariably looks silly on guys, which spawned a running joke on the Television Without Pity recaps of Veronica Mars, since Logan and Duncan are both strangely attached to argyle. But on women, especially with at least shoulder-length hair? I don't know what it is. Some combination of the diamonds and boobs maybe? Subconscious accentuation? Argyle sweaters at least universally looking soft? It's a very cuddly look. UPGRADE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- So I read last week that Orlando Bloom and Claire Danes were making out or something at a Black Eyed Peas charity event in London. Christ, you two! You should both be ashamed of yourselves! No, this has nothing to do with the fact that Claire Danes helped break up Billy Crudup's marriage to the infinitely hotter (says me) Mary-Louise Parker (I can't say she "broke up" the marriage because Billy Crudup did at least half of it). Or that Orlando Bloom, despite being a teen idol to many woman and men (I'm not insinuating anything; it's common knowledge that a ton of gay guys dig Orlando Bloom), at least by his interviews, is one of the most boring people in Earth, and also broke up with the infinitely hotter Kate Bosworth. No, this does even have anything to do with making out. Their shame should derive from one thing and one thing only. THEY WERE SPOTTED AT A BLACK EYED PEAS CONCERT.
- And finally, I didn't make this up; I heard it from two different people in the space of 3 days. First from Kasey Keller on Thursday and then Sergio on Saturday. They referred to the lower-back tattoo (and by lower back tattoo, we're talking the centered one, not approaching the hip, just so you know), already the only physicality that approaches deal-breaker status for one Senor Beavis, as "The Tramp Stamp." That is officially awesome. Sergio continued with this gem. "Pretty much any other tattoo, regardless of whether you think it looks good or not, you really can't tell anything about what the person's like. With the lower back tattoo, you know EXACTLY what kind of person it is." There is nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.

Don't be fooled. Don't be flattered. It's not like you ever mattered. Not to me. Aw, Rick James was the original Superfreak!

I know my chicken. You've got to know your chicken

2006-06-16T11:42:00.000-07:00

So according to a friend, today is James Joyce Ulysses Day. It has some cutesy name that I forget, but evidently June 16 is the day on which that book takes place. However, I haven't read it, and given the great success I had reading "Portrait of the Artist," probably wouldn't understand it anyway.

So today, I'm conducting a tribute to someone else. Someone much more influential in my life than James Joyce. Perhaps even the one that inspired my love of cooking. No, it's not Giada De Laurentiis. I'm of course talking about none other than the Swedish Chef!

He's been out of the spotlight a bit since the demise of The Muppet Show (I guess smart TV didn't sell in the '80s either; it was probably muscled out by the '80s equivalent of American Idol) and the short shelf-life of his Croonchy Stars cereal. But how many of you knew that he tried his hand in politics, helping to campaign for the confirmation of Supreme Court nominee Robert Bork? He then used his royalty checks to buy season tickets to the Boston Bruins to watch his favorite hockey player, Ray Bourque, in action. And he has continued to inspire me to always sing and make a mess whenever cooking, usually in that order.

If you'd like to see the Swedish Chef in action, and that's really the only way to do him justice, check these out:

Donuts: http://www.youtube.com/watchv=mbs64GvGgPU&search=swedish%20chef
Chocolate Moose: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAsYwW7pt7o&search=swedish%20chef.
Chicken in a Basket: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtxA0iGEMVA&search=swedish%20chef.

"Yorn desh born, der ritt de gitt der gue, Orn desh, dee born desh, de umn børk! børk! børk!" I believe that means, "Look at yesterday's post. It's fucking hilarious. Not the writing, but the content."

"Goodbye, turkey! My attorney will be in touch!" (TM Jerry Reed)

Take it from me, I love you

2006-06-15T11:42:00.000-07:00

So I dug up a special treat for y'all yesterday. And it's the kind of thing that needs to stand alone. This isn't a stupid video about "ho-bras" with guys waving rubber snakes. In the words of Ben Stiller in "Happy Gilmore," this is quality shit we're talking here!

I've referenced this Mr. Show sketch, "Swear to God With Reverend Winton Dupree" enough that it just seems right that I should post it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EM4hp9kz_A4&search=swear%20to%20god. I was actually looking around for another sketch about corporate branding for a friend with whom I'd been discussing just that a couple days ago and thought, "Hey, while I'm here, let's look for the Reverend." But as an added bonus, I'll throw in the Globo-Chem sketch. It may take a little while to load, but it's well worth it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICSJ30uwhAU&search=pit%20pat.

While not related to Mr. Show, a couple weeks ago, a friend, same friend as above actually, told me that "avocado" derives from the Aztec language Nahuatl, in which it means, "testicle." While guacamole sadly isn't mentioned, that should give new meaning to this classic sketch here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZnZFHzVcfcw&feature=PlayList&p=56D2AA2D1EEC14E1&index=11.

And finally, it warms my heart to have come across a clip from one of my biggest influences growing up, the Seattle sketch show "Almost Live," which used to run on Comedy Central and featured, among others, a pre-famous Bill Nye. While not nearly the best Lame List at all, it was the only one I found. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VF94zlnBw4U&search=almost%20live%20lame%20list. Enjoy!

The sun always shines on the assclowns

2006-06-14T11:01:00.000-07:00

So I’m patrolling Deadspin on a Monday afternoon, which pretty much makes it no different from any Monday afternoon and I come across this: http://www.deadspin.com/sports/college-football/how-to-brainwash-your-baby-early-180095.php. Yeah, it appears to be Baby Einstein-style videos without the awesome Baby Shakespeare yelling, “BLAH!” Rather collegiate fight songs and imagery.

Of course, the first thing I immediately thought was, “Damn, those Notre Dame fans are some scary fucked-up assholes!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction and I’m not afraid to admit it. However, when I clicked the link to the actual site, I discovered that 18 other schools so far were engaging in equally creepy proceedings. Now I know that “equally creepy” probably isn’t correct, since as far as I know, the other 18 schools don’t define themselves by their religion. So as far as I know, little 8-year-old boys and girls in Alabama don’t grow up writing essays for school titled, “Why God Loves the Crimson Tide.” For ND, this seriously happens. I have ironclad testimony. I wonder if the DVD teaches the Notre Dame babies to define themselves by religion first. Shots of kids saying, “I’m Catholic. And my name’s Peter.” But I digress. For the sake of today, all 19 schools are in it together. And I’m sure each school has its own unscrupulous things to teach.

I can’t remember who, I think it may have been Deadspin again, said that of all sports fans, college football fans are the creepiest. Now I can neither really confirm or deny that statement, having come from a college football-who-cares environment growing up, as opposed to say my college roommate who grew up in Columbus, OH, and having gone to a 1-AA football school that plays its games on a field worse than most high schools. In addition, my school wasn’t high in the caring department, although I wonder how much of that has to do with the student body and how much had to do with our basketball team sucking all 4 years I was there. But anyway, this whole baby DVD thing seems a bit on the creepy side to me. I don’t know if it’s the part of me that likes to believe in free will or the part of me that just doesn’t understand the obsessive loyalty. On the other hand, maybe just a little part of me is slightly jealous that there’s a culture surrounding these institutions that inspires such camaraderie as to want to brainwash your children. You know, how cults attract the loners and disaffected who want to be part of something.

I’m gonna take a detour here for a minute. If you notice the DVDs, there’s only a couple of kids modeling for these covers. And given the type of people who are going to buy these things, how do you think they’re going to feel about the same chick dressed up for Alabama as for Georgia. Or that Notre Dame and Michigan have the same little guy? I’m just saying, there, Team Tornante, you better lock it down. If you’re gonna have “i”s in your sentence, fucking dot ‘em!

Sorry, that was just bugging me. Anyway, I’ve been sitting here (well not here, but when I was thinking about it the other day) thinking that I can’t quite figure out where I want to draw my line as to what’s positive community building and what’s scary. So far the best take on such matters is the book “Friday Night Lights.” The movie’s OK, but considerably downplays the author’s ambivalence about the culture, which is far and away the best part of the book. In the book, the whole town is united by high school football, which is seemingly the only thing going on there, but at the same time, the coach and his family are being threatened for losing a freaking high school football game and all the players are doomed to constantly live in the shadows and legends of those who were more successful. (High school football isn’t really big where I’m from either, for the record.) I can’t really determine where exactly the line is crossed or whether there even is one in that the bad inevitably comes with the good.

That said, I still find Baby Aggie or whatever to be pretty damn creepy. But then I looked into my own childhood and have fond memories of Sleepless and my dad singing me “Hail To the Redskins” at every possible opportunity. Or telling me to jump on people’s sandcastles (after dark when they were abandoned, of course) and pretend they were the Dallas Cowboys. Surprisingly enough, at 28, I don’t like the Dallas Cowboys. Diesel’s parents bought their first grandson a Washington Capitals jersey and would take him to games as a baby, even though the goal horn scared the bejesus out of him. But he seems to enjoy it now, I think. My dad taught me how to keep score at a baseball game and all the quirky little rules that go along with baseball and football. (I learned the hockey ones myself). Trying to find a definition that could paint us as good and Baby Wildcat as bad, I guess I could say that mine was an active process and involved parents and relatives spending time with their kids in the course of encouraging fandom. But then again, making your kids listen to this doggerel (http://www.deadspin.com/sports/college-football/drink-like-a-champion-today-171024.php) is an active process as well. So Christ, I don’t know.

If it makes you feel any better, I don’t like when I don’t have the answer either.

And regardless of whatever the line is, Notre Dame fans are still scary, fucked-up assholes. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/06/they-had-style-they-had-grace-rita.html).

Second base! Sh! Nice throw, d*head!

2006-06-12T12:53:00.000-07:00

Substitute! Your lies for fact. I see right through your plastic mac. I look all white, but my dad was black. My fine-looking suit's really made out of sack. Time for Musings!

- So as I'm typing right now, the US is playing its World Cup opener against the Czech Republic. (Huge props to Australia for its first ever World Cup victory this morning!) If I didn't have a duty to y'all (and also don't know a non-Buffalo Wild Wings place out here to watch it), I'd be watching it right now. I hope Diesel's watching it, since he has a TV in his office, or at least did. He better yell, "GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAL!" if the U.S. scores. It's the least he can do considering he didn't exactly live up to our other deal about yelling, "Goal!"
- Speaking of the World Cup, I don't know about you, but these got me excited to watch it, and by watch it, I mean be at work during the games except on the weekends. Hey, at least, unlike the Olympics, they broadcast that shit live, so I can't complain. Anyway, this is an old clip, but still funny. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/soccer/the-physics-of-the-flop-178694.php. This next one, I'd never seen but it's awesome. Not knowing my BBC comedy, I can't give you a lot of background, but evidently it's from a recurring sketch comedy character of a British soccer announcer. Either way, it's pretty fucking funny, and "Eat my goal!" will probably still have legs for me next hockey season. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/world-cup/eat-my-goal-177622.php.
- For those not routinely following sports, which is pretty much everyone here besides myself and KJ Choi, the biggest sports news aside from the World Cup is career crappy relief pitcher Jason Grimsley, previously best known for stealing Albert Belle's corked bat out of the umpires' dressing room back in the mid-'90s, got caught by the FBI with shipments of human growth hormone. When threatened with ... well, I don't know exactly, but he confessed to having taken steroids throughout his career and continued taking human growth hormone, for which a test does not yet exist, after Major League Baseball finally started testing for steroids. The obvious joke is that he needed better steroids because he still sucked, but when you think about it, he was making $850,000 this year, which was one of the lowest salaries in baseball, but way above what anyone here on Bend It's making, even the lawyers. So was it worth it? Well, that's probably an entirely separate post. But anyway, the big part of the story is that in his confession, he named other players who were involved. You can read the actual affidavit (and I confess I don't know exactly what an affidavit is) here at The Smoking Gun: http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/0607061grimsley1.html. There's been a ton of controversy about his outing former teammates and most of it has been pretty hilariously ridiculous. Which brings me to the one burning question I have: What does Carmelo Anthony think about this? (Seriously, I never ever get tired of this punchline).
- While over at The Smoking Gun getting the previous link for y'all, I encountered another story about two middle school teachers in Florida (of course) who were caught having sex in a classroom. (http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/0608061teach1.html). I think my not batting an eyelash probably had to do with watching too much Boston Public in its day, which is probably what also led me to be surprised that both teachers resigned. I was thinking about them looking for new jobs and decided that they new colleagues would probably be pretty fucking welcoming. But as I searched the scenario for logic, one thing became very clear -- I never want to meet either of their roommates.
- He's no Dan Uggla, but Big Lebowski fans may have a new baseball player to cheer for. The Cubs' Carlos Marmol, the only call-up this season to not suck balls, got his first major league win yesterday amid serenades of, "Nice ... Marmol" in my best Dude voice. I think his next start should be on Saturday unless new shit has come to light.
- And now time for each week's burst of sunshine, the Bend It Official Major League Baseball Player Dan Uggla Watch! Ladies and gentlemen, guard your children and put on your giant sunglasses, Dan Uggla's going yard! Holy hell, last Wednesday our hero hit 2 home runs and had 5 RBIs against the hated San Francisco Giants. All told, this past week he went 9-24 (.375), with 1 double, 1 triple, 3 home runs, and 6 RBIs. He's now up to .310 with 10 doubles, 3 triples, 10 home runs, and 36 RBIs! 36! Including me? Anyway, I know the All-Star Game voting system tends to be fucking useless, but show the man, and I do mean The Man, some love. Vote Uggla! Vote often!
- Continuing the heartwarming portion of today's events, huge props to our very own lax (not lacrosse, I mean he hasn't posted in fucking forever) contributor Recursive Footnotes, who completed his 200-mile bike ride for MS research over the weekend in Michigan. I couldn't convince him to wear a Bend It t-shirt for luck. First because it's not as helpful as those shiny biking jerseys and secondly because they don't exist.
- The Giant Douche Cam was out of action this past weekend as I was resting my sore feet and even more importantly my wallet with JoshuaTrees' bachelor party this coming weekend, in favor of cooking lasagna and watching Donnie Darko (I can't give you a review yet since my head's kinda spinning. However, the song "The Killing Moon" by Echo and the Bunnymen, still rules). I turned over the GDC to the capable hands of KJ Choi, but it appears either she managed not to encounter any giant douches in her time at the (Mentally Ill From) Andersonville fest, which I supremely doubt, or she's just much nicer about her classifications than I am. Seeing as I'll be out and about the entire weekend forthcoming, I'm fairly certain it will make its return next week.
- Speaking of, props to Sleepless for a good comment on the ethical implications of the technology itself that enables the GDC. I'll cover the principles that guide my hand on the flash in the next mailbag, which should be either this week or next week. But he did remind me that my gym once tried to ban cell phones in the locker room because of the potential for taking revealing photos of the members. I would have just done it because people talking on their phones in the locker room is fucking annoying, but it makes sense. Sadly, assholes did such a great job of adhering to it, and they did such a great job of enforcing it, that they took those signs down and banana-grabbers (TM Arrested Development) still yak with impunity.
- Does anyone know where the painful cliche "meteoric rise" comes from? I was watching some sport yesterday and heard it used again. At my first job out of college, for a now-defunct newspaper, they had a posted list of cliches they hoped to never see in our stories. One of them was said "meteoric rise," and whoever wrote the list astutely pointed out that meteors don't rise. Ever. I don't think I've used it since, but I'm reminded of that job every time someone else does.
- Huge props also go out to Zekers for embodying the true spirit of Bend It. Last week she sent me a photo of herself wearing a tubetop that she bought in Mexico, her admitted attempt to avoid strange tan lines before her best friend's wedding. She said, "I hate tubetops, so I intentionally got one with a glittery palm tree and a flower." Now that's having fun with bad fashion. Compared to pretty much everyone else, it actually doesn't look bad on her. I can't, of course, post the picture, but it was certainly nice to see that someone "gets it."
- Speaking of, I think Jessica Simpson somehow stole the picture of Zekers and decided to crank it up a notch. Or 7. Except completely unironically. http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/06/jessica_fugson.html.
- I have to take issue with the usually spot-on Go Fug Yourself's take on Justin Timberlake. http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/06/mtv_movie_award.html. Their critique is fine, but come on; he's ALWAYS looked "weird and dopey."
- Speaking of retarded poodle-haired guys, a British tabloid ran a story last week claiming that Kevin Federline wants to make a movie about his life in the style of "8 Mile." I know this is a total "consider the source," but in the interest of comedy, for the love of all that is good and holy, please let this be true! I hear he's hard at work on the soon-to-be Oscar-winning theme song, "Douche Yourself," as we speak.
- Also as we speak, the U.S. is getting curb-stomped by the Czech Republic at the half. To quote "Team America," "No mi gusto! (sp?)"
- OK, back to idiot "celebrities" looking ridiculously awful. I think Ashton Kutcher must have locked up his Svengalian agent in the basement like on Desperate Housewives. Otherwise, I have no idea who's letting him leave the house like this: http://cityrag.blogs.com/main/2006/06/ashtons_kutcher.html. Hey, Demi! Didn't you used to be G.I. Jane? Feel free to address the situation by any means necessary, including telling him to "suck [your] dick." And that's just on principle; that has nothing to do with the beard. Ha! I just used "beard" in an item about Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore.
- So I was watching "Everyday Italian" with Giada DeLaurentiis yesterday and Giada was making her friend's daughter breakfast in bed. OK, now that's just not fair. It was bad enough that she talked about it, then she had to sit down on the bed and eat it with her. Have the dream police been inside of my head? Not quite, because there was no whipped cream with the hot chocolate, but still. I shudder to think what's going to happen on the season premiere of Veronica Mars.
- Speaking of Giada, she was wearing this shirt that tied around the waist, but then poofed way out again afterwards and it kinda made her look like she was pregnant. Does anyone know anything about this? Also, more on faux maternity clothes coming up.
- OK, time for a Bend It movie review! Last Monday I was watching Punch-Drunk Love. And yes, in cliched fashion, I will give Adam Sandler credit where credit is due for his surprising acting performance. But I had a really difficult time just accepting the story on screen when my mind kept generating questions. "Where did he get his money?" "What does he actually sell?" "Is this a real business, or just imaginary?" "How did they handle the fact that in 99.9% likelihood, he'd never slept with anyone before?" "What in God's name was her backstory that made her so amenable to everything going on?" I've often accused myself of being overly logical in my criticisms and too married to traditional storytelling procedures and structures. I think I did better with the potential for anti-realism this time than I did with Paul Thomas Anderson's previous film, "Magnolia," in that I was able to completely accept his taking a non-cordless phone from LA to Utah. But I still don't know if I can accept a story essentially without context. Asking me to accept only what I can see on the screen without trying to make inferences or connections is at the same time asking too much and too little from me. Any ideas?
- And finally, take a nap, Wolverines, it's time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner! Now I don't really know the name for what I'm talking about here. It's those tank-tops I mentioned last week that poof out a bit before the waist sorta like a bell curve. I'll occasionally call them "bell shirts" or "umbrella shirts," but maybe Shasta can clue me in on what the exact name is. I'd never really been aware of this as a fashion until a little over a year ago, one of my friends was wearing one and 8yearoldsdude asked me, "Is your friend pregnant?" No, she wasn't, but 8yearoldsdude was spot on. These shirts totally look like maternity clothes in that there's tons of extra fabric around the belly. When worn by a non-pregnant woman, though, she either looks A) pregnant, or B) kinda like a muffin top. (By the way, Elaine from Seinfeld, you're full of shit. The muffin bottom is the softest part of the muffin and is so totally worth one's time). Anyway, this is a tricky one to handicap, since as I say almost every week, I'm not ashamed to say I hate my body, so if these shirts are being worn as a reaction to wearing a tight shirt that accentuates your stomach when you don't want it to, I totally understand where you're coming from. I'm always looking for ways to neutralize my disproportionately large shoulders and to a lesser extent, my stomach. However, it kinda turns into a heads-I-win, tails-you-lose scenario because in the course of doing so, you now look pregnant, which trust me, ain't gonna bring any boys to the yard. It's kinda like if I wear a really huge shirt, it takes some of the emphasis off my shoulders, but still hangs off them in a way that makes me look like a ghost wearing a sheet, which really isn't any better. Now people with "magazine bodies," I really don't know why you'd wear this, however I see you doing it all the time. The rest of us, I'm with you in spirit, and I sincerely hope there is an answer out there. But this isn't it. DOWNGRADE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fate. Up against your will. Through the thick and thin. He will wait until ... you give yourself to him.

They had style. They had grace. Rita Hayworth in your face!

2006-06-09T09:54:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know that's not how it goes, but it's funny. Give 8yearoldsdude the TM for that.

Anyway, so as we consider wrapping up No Mercy Week, I invite you to harken back to Monday's extravaganza. Somewhere buried in the feisty brilliance that was Monday lay a story proclaiming the discovery of the biggest tools I'd ever seen. Obviously, living in this city, that's a tough claim to substantiate. I may have to amend it to the biggest collective of tools I'd ever seen since I just had a flashback to the Kevin Federline clone who was humping everyone during the White Sox series-clinching victory. But since we're living in the present, let's revisit what I said about them:

Three guys, two wearing sideways hats, the other wearing a button-down shirt and shorts. One of the guys wearing a Notre Dame t-shirt outing the entire group as Domers. Every minute or so, they would all throw their hands up in the air and pose for invisible cameras. Occasionally, the ND shirted guy would take all three of their beers and place them on the ground. Then they'd run to them and pose.

Believe it or not, that was a merciful depiction since I was running out of time on my lunch break when I got to that item. Anyway, I realized with dismay that there were no witnesses to this debacle. OK, so there were thousands of witnesses, but none that I knew. My usual tag-team partner in out-and-aboutness was out of town and my friend who was supposed to go see Bumpus with me, the one who'd slept with over a third of the band (last year's lineup, I didn't see her conquests in action last Saturday), decided to set a new land-sea flakiness record. So I took matters into my own hands and pulled out my camera phone. Hell, they like to pose so fucking much, it surely wouldn't bother them. Yes, this was the first and hopefully last but probably first of many installments of the Giant Douche Cam.

Sadly, my camera phone takes blurry pictures and can't rightly zoom, so I didn't even come close to doing this guy justice. For starters, I only got the "lead douche." Yeah, the old panoramic camera phone hasn't hit yet. Secondly, he wasn't in mid-pose. And thirdly, you can't even read his Notre Dame shirt. Well, we already knew that Notre Dame doesn't know how to party (http://www.deadspin.com/sports/college-football/drink-like-a-champion-today-171024.php), which would render it the polar opposite of California. And we already knew it tends to be populated with douchebags, the defiantly un-douchbaggy IWasTheWalrus being the exception. But trust me, when I posted the picture all over campus, Touchdown Jesus (the entity, not the pseudonymed former correspondent) promptly enrolled at Boston College. So yeah, take this. Add a cigarette here and there. Add two friends, one of whom has a sideways Yankees hat. And picture them with their hands in the air, perhaps waving them in a matter as if there were no repercussions (TM Kenny Mayne). Oh, and this dude would occasionally pull up his shirt and show off his body to anyone who would look or was unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity. OK, so I should just show the picture, right? Pay no attention to the women around him. They weren't actually in his posse and we're just victims of circumstance.

If you see this picture and come to the horrifying realization that you are friends with this man, I think there is only one appropriate course of action. Kill yourself.

You're a monkey, Derek

2006-06-07T19:32:00.000-07:00

Sorry, it’s not a Grey’s Anatomy post. Actually, this was initially conceived as the next installment on Convince Senor Beavis He’s Wrong, but I bailed out of that because … well, it was kinda unfair. I remember the frustration that ensued from my making the second round of Ask the Tourists damn near impossible, and didn’t think this would be any easier. So instead of asking you to try to convince me it’s good (although if you want to try, I won’t stop you), I’ll just do what amounts to trying to hit the ocean with a tennis ball and then celebrating a bulls-eye. Hey, it is No Mercy Week here at Bend It, so if there was ever a time for it.

A couple weeks ago some white dude beat some white chick on American Idol. Yes, if there were ever a time for my favorite Roseanne saying: “Find out who wins. Like you give a rat’s [beeeeeeep!].” What makes me cry for humanity is that you do give a rat’s [beeeep!] More motherfuckers “cast votes” for the finals of American Idol than voted in the 2004 Presidential Election. Let me say this again, with feeling. More motherfuckers “cast votes” for the finals of American Idol than voted in the 2004 Presidential Election. And I’m using “motherfuckers” as in insult, not as profane slang for “people.” More Americans allegedly care about a corporate fake contest between a tool that looks like the love child of Mark Cuban and Mr. Rogers and some Scientologist with a nice rack than who controls the government of the country in which we live. Think about that the next time you’re lamenting the “war” in Iraq or Bush’s war on his own country. Taxes, health care, human rights. They all mean less to “America” as a whole than who they want to hear singing preprocessed treacle. It’s enough to make you want to move to Namibia, which is why I’m going to have to wait and come back to this point later. Because trust me, before I ever knew this, I hated American Idol anyway. I’ve said in many different forums that I believe it’s “the living embodiment of ‘The Man.’ And from globally to locally, it just plain sucks as a television show. Now I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, but here’s why.

It’s bad television. I’ll take my Presidential Elections and stick them up my own ass for this point. It’s not entertaining. Break down what constitutes an entire episode. (For the record, I’m not dealing from a position of weakness here. I actually did try to watch the show a bit 3 years ago until I got so insulted I gave up. But I’ll get to that next). Perhaps 5-7 minutes of a 1-hour “singing episode” is actual singing. That’s the part I don’t mind. Sure, I’d like to see them sing a real song, but an actual singing contest isn’t the worst TV in the world. What is bad TV is that the rest of the time is taken up by filler. Blithering idiots making millions of dollars to host and “judge” (more on that later). D-list celebrities. Commercial endorsements on the show. Mind-numbing shots of people’s families and faux sob stories bordering on Extreme Makeover Home Edition territory. Commercial breaks every 3 minutes. I know people gotta get paid, but they don’t even let the jackasses sing the entire song they’re performing most of the time. If you want to be a talent show, show me some talent rather than 5 minutes of singing and 55 minutes of horseshit.

It insults the holy hell out of its audience. That’s perhaps the biggest criticism I can make of any piece of entertainment. One of my Second City writing teachers told me, “Always try to write to the height of your intelligence.” I sadly can’t speak for other people, but I detest being treated like I’m Tara Reid’s brain double. When a show or a film or whatever thinks I’m going to blindly accept whatever shit they throw at me because they’re just that awesome, it makes me want to fly to Hollywood and beat the shit out of them. Those who read my recap of the season finale of The OCk got a taste of just exactly how upset that makes me. Watching American Idol, I feel insulted on pretty much every level. First and foremost, in addition to all the bad television that they want me to accept from above, they take either a half-hour or an hour just to announce who lost on any given week. There’s no actual original content. Ryan Seacrest basically grabs his Johnson for a half-hour or an hour and thinks you’ll watch it. The show basically thinks we care THAT FUCKING MUCH to sit through whatever contrivances they’ve served up just to see someone lose. The sad part is that evidently, we as a people do care that fucking much. But frankly, I just find it insulting. Secondly, I find it insulting that they really like they have that much power to determine who represents my listening interests just by throwing a bunch of reality show contestants at me? They really do think they’re more than just a bad TV show, which I’ll also get to later.

It has Ryan Seacrest on it. It’s not news that I’ve taken shots at Ryan Seacrest since I started this thing. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2004/11/youre-so-vain-i-bet-you-think.html). But he is the absolute perfect host for this show because he doesn’t even exist. What can you tell me about him? Where did he come from? What’s his favorite song? We’ll never know. He’s really just a CGI-graphic that looks smug and spews inarticulate, inoffensive bullshit. And he can buy and sell each and every one of us by doing that. What kind of world do we live in where that can happen? I mean, at the very least Carson Daly had a sense of humor about himself (see Chappelle's Show). Not to mention that while it’s insipid when he says it, anyone in the general populace who thinks they sound either cool, funny, or both, parroting his moronic catchphrase, “Seacrest, out!” should not be allowed to reproduce.

Overinflated sense of self-importance for everyone involved. I just read a few days ago that some 5-foot douche that also lost on that INXS show turned down the band Fuel’s offer to become their lead singer. Now admittedly, Fuel’s first album was actually pretty good and they’ve blown every since, but an inflatable TV-doll thinking he’s too good for an actual band? You gotta be fucking kidding me. Joining Fuel would have been by far the smartest thing this idiot could have done because it would have been the only way American Idol doesn’t own him. Fuel has its own record deal, but everyone else is an indentured servant to the show. Don’t think you’re an “artist.” They own your ass. “Oh, I want to make the kind of album I want to make.” No, jackass. You’re going to make exactly the kind of album they want you to make. They’ll make you sing, “Three Little Maids From School Are We” (Viva Carlos and The Chicken from “Frasier!”) if they feel like it. See, now you get my title. They created you and they’ll decide how far they want you to go. You think it’s a coincidence that the two black people that “won” American Idol have never been heard from again while Clay Aiken continues to set back gay rights 10 years every time he steps on stage? (http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/05/fug_aiken.html). And here I’m talking about the people that somewhat succeed. American Idol has also made a cottage industry out of people sucking. The “popularity” of William Hung was one of the worst things that could have happened to the world besides Coldplay. People who suck become bigger stars than people who just plain lose. There was a 10-page Rolling Stone spread profiling the worst singers from this year’s show. I’m very fortunate that The Lloyd Dobler Effect or some other talented band working their asses off did not immediate hang themselves after seeing that. In addition, the national level of expectations in general is lowered when you have people trying to suck on purpose for the sake of getting on television. Furthermore, these “personalities” from the show actually think they are somebody as well. Allegedly, Ryan Seacrest puppet-hosts a show on E! and some top 40 radio show as well. Simon Cowell seems under the opinion that he’s more than just a teleprompter-junkie channeling old lines by Oscar the Grouch and “produces” more “talent” shows, the number growing by the day. What the fuck did he do before this too? There’s a reason his other shows tank and it’s because American Idol created him and he’s nothing without it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t blame the show for convincing him he’s King Shit of Fuck Mountain. (TM Mr. Show).

You don’t know it’s real. Maybe I’m just a stickler about a “fair” playing field, but there’s no way of proving the “contest” isn’t rigged. I happen to think that Mr. Rogers won because an overly-religious hot chick won last year and the powers that be don’t want to promote the same thing at the same time. People’s calls and text messages allegedly determine the vote, but there’s no empirical proof of that. You can invest as much time and energy as you want in this “contest,” but there’s no proof anything you do matters. Wow, now that I mention it, it is exactly like the Presidential Election. Answer me this. If your votes decide the “contest,” then why are there “judges?” It sure as shit isn’t because they’re articulate, funny, insightful, interesting, or relevant. They aren’t allegedly “judging” anything, just repeating their retreaded “opinions,” only one of which is in English, and all three of which could be spouted by a low-level robot. There was some controversy a couple years ago that some douche that lost said the he fucked Paula Abdul and she promised him he’d win. Well, so what? He wouldn’t have sucked less thank anyone else who “won,” and fucking one of the “judges” isn’t really any shadier than the way it’s conducted now.

A note. One good thing has come out of American Idol ever. That strumpet that won last year recording a song called, “Jesus, You Can Drive My Car.” And that’s just fucking funny, no matter which way you look at it. Don’t try to count “Since U Been Gone” as a second. It would still have existed without Kelly Clarkson since she didn’t write it. OK, let’s wrap this bitch up.

Once again, more motherfuckers “cast votes” for the finals of American Idol than voted in the 2004 Presidential Election. Actually, a couple months ago, a movie, “American Dreamz,” explored the ramifications of this concept. It tanked. A lot of that had to do with that fact that the movie allegedly sucked. However, how much do you think was due to the discomfort that comes with holding up the mirror to society a bit too close? I really cannot say this enough times, but more people cared about who they’d rather see sing “Time in a Bottle” than matters of national security. People allegedly love being treated, like idiots, like drones, like retards, like shit. And that’s why we have who we have running our country. If a few more people respected their own intelligence rather than held a preference to have nefarious suits do it for you, maybe we’d all be in a little better shape. But as it stands, one day after 6/6/06, I do see the overarching popularity of American Idol as a sign of the apocalypse.

Captain Insano shows no mercy

2006-06-05T13:33:00.000-07:00

Here's a little gangster, short in size. T-shirt and Levi's is his only disguise. Built like a tank, yet hard to hit. Ice Cube and Eazy-E cold runnin' shit. Well I'm Eazy-E, the one they talkin' about. [Brothers] tried to roll the dice and just crapped out. 'Cause I'm the E. I don't slang or bang. I just smoke motherfuckers like it ain't no thang. Time for Musings!

- So I want to apologize for the short-content week last week. I checked and I think last week was the first two-post week in about a year. Honestly, I didn't want to try to follow the Denny gallery, which might have been my favorite post in a long time.
- In a rare moment of self-satisfaction, rather than the faux egotism of the Senor Beavis character (this is Tristan writing this item as himself), I dropped the link for that post to my favorite TV columnist, Maureen "Mo" Ryan of the Chicago Tribune (http://featuresblogs.chicagotribune.com/entertainment_tv/), thinking she, as a fellow detractor of the Denny plotline, would enjoy it. She deemed it "heee-larious." Feel free to serenade me with a rousing chorus of Nine Inch Nails' "Starfuckers, Inc." I don't get like that too often.
- OK, I have a confession to make. I want to out myself as a hypocrite. Right now, I am the women I've spoken out against near the end of this linked post and others (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/04/aint-nothin-wrong-if-you-wanna-do-ock.html). I'm not really sure why my shock collar isn't going off right now. Maybe it's because I'm making a confession in hopes of a more perfect understanding within the Bend It community. I just feel like if I'm not living up to my own standard, I should admit to it.
- Speaking of not living up to standards, or living up to them perfectly, depending on which way you want to look at it, Cincinnati Bengals draftee A. J. Nicholson, formerly of Florida St., was arrested last week for stealing electronics from Florida St. teammate Lorenzo Booker. (http://sports.espn.go.com/nfl/news/story?id=2469276). When reached for comment on his BFF's most recent excursion into trouble, Penn St. head coach Joe Paterno said, "You hate to see that. He's a heck of a football player. He may not have even known what he was getting into. When Lorenzo Booker has electronics in his place and you wish they were yours, what do you do? It's just too bad." (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/01/say-she-aint-ho-joe.html).
- Speaking of sports, it's only 4 days until the start of the World Cup. How awesome is that? I can't give you a very good preview, since I admit I don't know a hell of a lot about world soccer, but I do really enjoy the World Cup. Sadly, the Indomitable Lions of Cameroon, of whom I have a replica jersey thanks to 8yearoldsdude's visit, did not make it. However, the Cote d'Ivoire Elephants now boast the best name in the tournament, although unfortunately, they allegedly aren't very good. Anyway, the closest I can come to a preview today is a video showing England's Peter Crouch's unfortunate taste in music. http://youtube.com/watch?v=Kv1EbxiRWxk&search=peter%20crouch. Man, that song sucked back in 1993. And it hasn't aged well.
- I was watching some of the Cubs-Cardinals series on TV, which the Cubs surprisingly should have swept if they didn't suck balls, and was very pleasantly surprised to see lots of Cubs and Cardinals fans enjoying the game in harmony. Chatting, drinking beers, smiling. At the risk of sounding cheesy, that's the way it should be. As opposed to White Sox "fans" threatening women at the Cubs-White Sox series. Or Cubs "fans" talking on cell phones instead of to the people next to them. Or Red Sox fans using a rivalry with the Yankees as the only thing with meaning in their lives. It actually touched a brother's heart. Good on ya, Cubs and Cardinals fans.
- Speaking of baseball, it's time for the Bend It Official Major League Baseball Player Dan Uggla Watch! Well, our hero had a little trouble average-wise, going 6-25 (.240) for the week, lowering his average to .302, which is still awesome. Hey, I had a tough week too. Maybe Dan Uggla got out a few extra times in sympathy. And .240 still beats the fuck out of Juan Pierre and Neifi Perez. Anyway, he did contribute a double, a home run, 5 RBIs, and a stolen base anyway, so Mr. Uggla now stands at .302 with 7 homers and 30 RBIs for the year. Remember, he's not only a second baseman; he's also a rookie. He rules!
- This is something that could easily wind up on Ask the Tourists, if we ever rebuild enough to get enough Tourists to ask. Now I love Giada DeLaurentiis as much as the next guy. Probably much more since the average guy probably doesn't know who she is, much less have impure thoughts about the way she grills portobello mushrooms. But on a repeat episode I watched yesterday, Giada referred to grilled tuna sandwiches she made on baguettes as "tuna burgers." Now, I don't know the exact definition, but I think Giada is being way too liberal with her probable definition of anything grilled on a sandwich as a "burger." Giada grilled the tuna, then cut it into slices, which she put on the baguette with aioli and tomatoes. That's just a sandwich. Admittedly a delicious looking one, but not a burger. If the tuna had been shaped into patties, as I've seen at the local fish market back home, I'd consider it could perhaps be considered a "tuna burger," but Giada wasn't even close. And don't think I wouldn't tell her that if I ever met her, preferably over a nice dinner with enough bottles of wine to make her forget she was married.
- Want to hear the new dictionary definition of "chutzpah?" BZZZZZZZZZZZZT!!!! Ow! OK, fine. I didn't think I could get that in anyway. But it did involve Veronica Mars.
- So I saw a commercial during the aforementioned episode of Giada's show for Children's Hospital in which a girl talked of getting groundbreaking surgery for her brain tumor at Children's Hospital and getting her life back. It was at this moment I knew I'd been watching too much Grey's Anatomy because I yelled out, "Hey, you forgot to say, "My parents were being giant dicks and didn't want me to get the surgery.""
- Since Bend It is occasionally famous for enhancing the community lexicon with its transcendent catch phrases (see, this is the in-character faux egotism I was talking about), it's time for Talk Like Senor Beavis Part 1. I was sure this wasn't new, but haven't somehow found record of it anywhere else, so maybe I did accidentally coin a phrase. In an angry rant to Choi (not about Choi, to her about something else), I off-the-cuff used "drive the lane" as a euphemism for sex. Feel free to use as much or as little as you want. My gift to you.
- Overly tan blonde chicks look silly.
- Speaking of, you can download and listen to Paris Hilton's "new single." http://www.stereogum.com/archives/002675.html. I haven't, since you can get in trouble for that shit here. Now let me just go back to my GameCast.
- Speaking of stupid whores, BZZZZZZZT! Hey, that's unfair. I'm just doing a Britney Spears item. Britney Spears is allegedly talking to a divorce lawyer like 2 weeks after announcing she was pregnant again. OK, now I know the average person doesn't decide to consider a divorce out of the blue. Some of us, it takes months. Or 18 years. Or 34 years or however long my parents have been married. My point being, if you're considering the fact that you've married the world's second-biggest douche (you'll have to wait for #1), and that you might not want to be married to the world's second-biggest douche anymore, you might want to consider USING FUCKING PROTECTION if not not fucking the world's second-biggest douche in the first place. For that, she deserves to be married to Kevin Federline for life just as penance for her idiocy. Oh, and the fact that they have kids should be game-set-match against any pro-lifer.
- Still in the celebrity vein, it's been much rumored that Jake Gyllenhaal and Natalie Portman are dating. And they should be. They should get married because there's nothing more prefect that the most overrated male celebrity in terms of attractiveness with the most overrated female celebrity in terms of attractiveness. Otherwise known as an emo circus clown overactor with a chick that looks like a 12-year-old boy. Yes, if you're attracted to Natalie Portman, you should consider the fact that you might be gay. Yes, I know I shouldn't talk since I look like a retarded monkey, but fear not. No one wastes their time thinking I'm hot.
- Time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner Part 1! Walking home from the gym on Saturday, I saw a girl with a popped collar. No. Just no. Guys' shirts on girls? Hot. But adopting an idiotic guys' fashion trend? In the words of cartoon Kurt Loder, "It's still stupid." You give yourself too much credit thinking than boobs and pretty hair can undo all that evil. DOWNGRADE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- I'm pretty sure this is a regional commercial, but the past few days, I've been seeing a McDonalds commercial where a black guy gets Cheap Trick to wake his parents up with their music. OK, first of all, come on, Cheap Trick! You were Live at Budokai! Don't do this. Secondly, at the risk of sounding like a racist, how many black guys do you seriously think you'll ever find at a Cheap Trick show?
- I know I've given U2 nothing but shit since I started Bend It, and deservedly so considering they haven't made a decent record since Rattle and Hum. But I actually wanted to give them a modicum of credit for once. Yesterday, I flipped on the radio in the car and heard a recording of them performing "Elevation," yet another one of their songs that sound like they were written by a retarded third-grader, live. In the middle, Bono randomly said, "I'm a creep," and then The Edge did the guitar-thing from Radiohead's "Creep" or was it the other way around. Anyway, I almost crashed my rig from surprise, but it was nice to know that even in the midst of churning out corporate sellouts-manship and kowtowing to powerful Republicans, they may still have one ounce of a sense of humor left somewhere. If they made better music, I'd consider starting my own humanitarian fund to help them rediscover it.
- So Saturday evening, I gathered my sore feet and walked over to the Belmont-Sheffield Festival to see the mighty Bumpus perform. Admittedly, I can be a little harsh when I'm sober and no one else is, but I'd forgotten that Chicago street festivals are the inner circle of fashion hell. I saw fucking everything under the fucking sun. Fucking tubetops. Those tanktops that look like maternity clothes. Lower back tattoos. Capri pants. A woman wearing a black and white horizontal striped dress with lime green heels that tied around her ankles a foot up. Popped collars. Fucking giant sunglasses (more on that later). Sideways hats. Trucker hats. Seriously, I almost hurled on the soundboard. The question is, is Chicago just the most fashion-impaired city in the world or was what I saw just symptomatic of a more global problem?
- So at this previously mentioned festival, I encountered possibly the most horrifying spectacle of my entire life. Three guys, two wearing sideways hats, the other wearing a button-down shirt and shorts. One of the guys wearing a Notre Dame t-shirt outing the entire group as Domers. Every minute or so, they would all throw their hands up in the air and pose for invisible cameras. Occasionally, the ND shirted guy would take all three of their beers and place them on the ground. Then they'd run to them and pose. This went on through the entire Bumpus set, oblivious to the music and my flipping them off on principle. I said something to an additional bystander who commented, "They've been like that ALL AFTERNOON." I said, "Wow, I think that after 28 years of searching, I have finally found the biggest tools in the entire world." Oh, it gets better. They had a group of chicks with them. Seemingly normal-looking except twittering at their antics, half-heartedly dancing with them, and of course, every so often, all gathering for a group smoke. Like we didn't see that coming. Finally, I had to switch sides of the festival before I said something that would have resulted in drunken idiots going Duke Lacrosse on me. So I really just want to say, for all you ladies out there, if you ever find yourself at a street festival dancing with a guy who takes time off every minute to pose for an invisible camera, you might want to reconsider the course your life has taken. Also, don't have kids.
- Time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner Part Deux! OK, IWasTheWalrus and I mentioned this last summer, but between last summer and this, the trend has actually multiplied exponentially. I'm talking about the giant sunglasses. About one out of every 2.5 women I saw on the street or in my store over the weekend was sporting these? Who decided these would become such a popular trend and where can I get his or her home address and a tank of propane? I really hope for your sake these fuckers serve a purpose that I'm unaware of. I mean besides giving you a scuba mask tan. More disturbingly, aside from looking like shit, you're helping dehumanize and further objectify yourself when you wear these. You're a woman without a face. You have hair and boobs and legs and arms, but no face. Would you prefer to be seen as just hair, boobs, legs, and arms? The face, at least physically, is the key. Without it, you can't express yourself. You're just a thing, not a person. You're seen, but not SEEN. Isn't this one of the "freedoms" that Americans talk about having, as opposed to the traditional Muslim world, for instance? Well, I suppose you are exercising your freedom to not portray yourself as a person, rather a faceless drone collection of body parts. But don't come bitching to me if you're not treated like a person, since you obviously aren't interested in looking like one. MEGA FUCKING DOWNGRADE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- And finally, it's time for Talk Like Senor Beavis Part Deux. I know you all have a friend like this or an acquaintance or know someone like this. And it's only 3 months after improv class ended that I had a true improv moment. But you know the person who says they want something and says they've been looking for something and then does exactly the opposite and then whines that they don't know what they want? Hell, for all I know, that person may be me to some of you. I sure as shit hope not. But anyway, I cracked last week in such a conversation, hit my breaking point, and spit out the acidic, "Good luck sorting yourself out!" I'm thinking about having t-shirts made up with said catchphrase. BZZZZZZT! Ow! No, I'm ignoring you, shock collar! BZZZZZZZT! OW! No, in the words of Iceman from The OCk, "Let's finish this!" BZZZZZT! OW! FUCK! Or, if you have more time to think of what to say or think faster on your feet than I do, 8yearoldsdude posited that you could always check in with, "Enjoy your spaghetti; you're emotionally immature." (TM Dane Cook for the concept). BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!!!!!!!

Because it's all high spirit. You know you got to hear it. Don't touch the mic, baby. Don't come near it.

Tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty

2006-06-01T10:55:00.000-07:00

OK, so I'm almost biting through my keyboard trying to save myself from myself. A few of y'all, the ones I've talked to in the past 24 hours, know what I really really want to write about, but can't or more appropriately, shouldn't. So I'll try to distract myself with the most divergent and inoccuous thing I could while I get fitted for my Shakespearean goat horns costume.

So if you're wondering from where Bend It's current obsession with the Chamillionaire song "Ridin' Dirty" emanates, 8yearoldsdude and I heard it playing as the Washington Nationals third baseman Ryan Zimmerman's "theme music" on Sunday and it somehow caught on. But when I think "Ridin' Dirty," the first thing I think of is ... BZZZZZT! OW!!!!! OK, let's try that again. When I think "Ridin' Dirty," the first thing I think of is McDirty himself, Denny from "Grey's Anatomy." Under that layer of swamp muck may have actually lay a real person. But we'd never know since aside from a laughable marriage proposal, he never said a word that wasn't blantant sexual harrassment. And I know that when I think of who I'd like sexually harrassing me, Pigpen from "Peanuts" is always at the top of my list.

Anyway, Denny may have kicked it root down, and only about 6 months too late, but his indomitable spirit lives on here at Bend It. And with that in mind, I present to you ...

BEND IT'S GALLERY OF PEOPLE WHO KINDA LOOK LIKE DENNY FROM GREY'S ANATOMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Let's try out some classic Denny dialogue to see how it fits on these fine upstanding men.

Paris Hilton's "pitcher," Brandon Davis:

"Would it be inappropriate for me to feel you up right now?"

Comedian Doug Benson:

"I'm a strong, virile, HORSE of a man!"

Brad from "Real World San Diego":

"Izzie Stevens, I choose you."

Greg Page, the Yellow Wiggle:

"I want to wake up with you, fall asleep with you, and everything in the middle."

Ray Romano:

"Now I'm happy, I'm DEAD! The ultimate high!"

Fred Flintstone:

"These Scrabble letters spell out Hot Karl."

Chris Berman:

"You're with me, form-fitting scrubs!"

Think of any more? Send them in and I'll gladly update!

So as promised, the spirit that is Denny will never truly die. In fact, given how much he inspired us here at Bend It during his time "alive," he prepared a statement for us before his death. "Whenever you see a guy who doesn't bathe for 5 years and probably has 15 collars for sexual assault and perpetually sexual harrasses his psyschotically delusional intern until she thinks she's in love with him, you'll see me, Ma. You'll see me."

We can do it in the White House. Gonna make 'em turn the lights out. Champagne with my campaign

2006-05-30T13:45:00.000-07:00

They see me rollin'. They hatin'. Patrollin' and tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty. Tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty. Tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty. Tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty. Tryin' to catch me ridin' dirty. Let's muse on the Tues! Also, let's never say that again.

- So I was in MD over Memorial Day weekend, getting some much-needed time out of Chicago, though not nearly enough. I'm certainly crossing my fingers hoping I don't immediately revert back to the same mood as last week. You ever get in one of those moods where everyone who runs into in the halls at work, you just want to elbow them in the face? On days like that, you really notice exactly how many people walk around with their heads down. Let me tell you, if you're a hockey player and you skate around with your head down, you're making Don Cherry's highlight tape.
- Speaking of oblivious walking, and god knows you see enough when you engage in air travel (Friday, I was playing a game of "Kinda Try to Hit Oblivious People in the Way With My Bag" and thinking to myself, "Wow, I really am an asshole"), Friday this chick was doing the Peg Bundy walk (for those not familiar, shuffle the feet, hands and boobs in all directions) down the aisle of the plane when she realized, a split second in time, that there was, in fact, a beverage cart, in the middle of the aisle. Yes, take a minute and replay this mental picture. There is nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- I hit up a couple Washington Nationals games and had lunch with my best friend, Big Daddy Cool, Diesel. But I think for good or for ill, my most memorable hour was spent at a Yale alumni party intentionally nicknamed "Sausagefest." A full grill of hot dogs and bratwursts, a full cooler of Bud and Mad Dog 20/20, the latter of which enacted some sort of revenge on my left hand, a banana costume, beer funnels -- which say something about my mild existence that at 28, I'd never seen one in action -- and homoerotic behavior probably conceived as ironic that certainly went past the irony line into just plain homoerotic. (See Roll Bounce for equivalency). As in all-male jello wrestling and a guy walking around in hot dog briefs. And that was at noon. Sadly, there was no plasma TV showing Top Gun on loop. I never quite made up my mind whether it was funny or just plain disturbing, and I'm not sure that I will. And there were even a couple chicks there who probably said the password and were certainly glad it was a Yale rowing instead of a Duke lacrosse party.
- Speaking of Duke lacrosse, I want to admit that in Friday's comments, it was I who was commenting under the guise of "Ryan McFadyen." I generally don't resort to chicanery like that, since I could conceivably invent an entire posse of fake Tourists, who would all sound surprisingly like myself. The reason I did it was because that was initially going to be my open for the finale and when I found an open that was actually relevant to the episode, I cut it. But I realized, as a time-sensitive joke, it would be useless in November. So that's the story.
- Also speaking of Duke lacrosse, in their national semifinal loss to eventual national champion Northwestern, who will probably have their footwear inspected personally by Fox News upon their trip to the White House, the Duke women's lacrosse team worse wristbands inscribed with the numbers of the 3 indicted men's players along with headbands reading, "Innocent." Well, I'd say that was an admirable show of support, except what if they did it? At the very least these chicks would feel pretty fucking stupid.
- Of course, the Duke women's team can testify to the woman as to these three guys' character. Since they've probably all slept with all 3. "Your honor, they are all quite respectful with me. They took turns. They were even ribbed for my pleasure. The only broom I saw was because one of them wanted to know how much the average jizz-mopper makes (TM Clerks)."
- I'd also like to throw in that while they're going to get off anyway, and this certainly doesn't make him a rapist, there is that pesky arrest of the one dude for starting a fight with some dude by shouting homophobic slurs at him for like 5 minutes in DC. Like I said, it doesn't make him a rapist at all. But it does make the people who are all like, "Oh, these are all exemplary young men," look either oblivious or hypocritical. Evidently, everyone speaking in this man's defense knows rape is bad, but violent homophobia is something to be lauded. I bet he went to Catholic school.
- On a better sports note, it's time for the Bend It Official Major League Baseball Player Dan Uggla Watch! A solid week for our hero, especially against the Cubs. Not counting last night's game, since I usually do this on Mondays, in the previous week, he went 8-23 with a double, a triple, and 4 RBIs. He now stands at .311 for the year with 6 home runs and 25 RBIs. I think he deserves another cheer. CHEERLEADER! SO-AND-SO! WHAT'SHERFACE! THE UGGLA ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (http://www.homestarrunner.com/tgsmenu.html)
- An extra thought or too on the finale to Grey's Anatomy (hey, I have all summer). Of Meredith's "decision" at the end, I think Roseanne said it best when she said, "Find out who wins. Like you give a rat's [beeeeeeep]."
- Also, while dearly departed (the "dearly" is that he's departed), but certainly not forgotten from Bend It (wait until later this week or next), Denny has acquired the posthumous nickname, at least from me, of "McDirty." And no, I don't know how the writers dropped the ball on that one.
- Speaking of, what exactly constitutes "ridin' dirty?"
- As the open contest to find a movie I want to see this summer rolls on unsuccessfully, that doesn't mean I don't have comments on movies I don't want to see. First of all, the Bend It Owen Wilson Watch takes a special animated twist this weekend with "Cars." Owen Wilson "is" the voice of main "character" Lightning McQueen. The question, of course, as always, is that even as a disembodied voice, will he still yet again just play Owen Wilson?
- Another already answered question in the same vein in the same movie, the voice of a tow truck will be provided by none other than Larry the Cable Guy. The tow truck, believe it or not, says, "Git 'er done." I will now light myself on fire. (TM Bill Simmons).
- As if anyone wanted an update regarding the sight-unseen Bend It-anointed worst movie of the year, "The Break-Up." According to commercials, it also features the White Nate Newton himself, Jon Favreau. http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/03/junior-get-back-in-swamp.html). I know the bad karma I get from talking about this, but it's kinda relevant. I'm very sensitive about my weight and when I think I really look like shit, I will do anything to keep people from taking pictures of me. So I really wonder what Jon Favreau's take is on this. Since if I were him, I'd break every camera within a 100-mile radius. I wonder if he has one of those diseases that makes your body gain weight like a motherfucker (there are such things) and if so, then I'll feel like the biggest asshole ever. But I always liked Jon Favreau because he looked like a real guy, rather than a movie star. (Being a writer and director does tend to have that affect on people). You kinda feel like you'd have a chance with swing-dancing Heather Graham too. But I feel like I've lost him in a way since I can't relate to him anymore. Well, as 8yearoldsdude pointed out, he doesn't yet have an entire car full of weed. As far as we know.
- So I've now seen the date. Veronica Mars season 2 DVDs come out on August 22. Which is 2 days before my birthday. I think it's only fair that they should be hand-delivered by Kristen Bell, preferably wearing a hockey jersey.
- And finally, time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner! I know this is redundant, so it can't be a new review, but ladies, I know the weather is heating up. And I know the temptation is there. But PLEASE, do not wear your tube tops. They do not flatter any part of your body and do retinal damage to the rest of society. http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/06/what-feeling-i-am-music-now.html.) If you need to feel the wind on your shoulders, I suggest getting naked for a guy with a ceiling fan. I know of at least one. Secondly, should you be wearing your crop top with your low-rise jeans, therefore showing off your cheese lower back tattoo, please carry around a sufficiency of airsick bags for people like-minded to myself. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2004/11/he-keeps-them-all-hidden-so-his-boss.html). Thank you and enjoy your summer.

Cut the filthy rat's nest. Cut the mullet off your skull. Go down to the barbershop. Tell the man you're tired of looking like an asshole.

$240 worth of OCk. Awwwwww yeah!

2006-05-26T10:40:00.000-07:00

There was a mid-‘90s song by Mike Watt and Eddie Vedder called, “Against the ‘70s,” that went, “It’s just someone else’s sentimentality. It won’t work for you.” Now the song was kind of a running joke between 8yearoldsdude and myself seeing as it was, A) bad, B) outstandingly goofy, and C) from an album titled “Ball-Hog or Tugboat?” which I’ve always considered one of the essential questions of life. But that quote actually sums up perfectly how I feel about the season finale of The OCk. It’s lots of goodbyes and tears and reminiscing and since I’ve never seen Season 1 and don’t actually care about these characters enough to be touched, I’m really just bored off my ass. Time for Do You Smell What The OCk is Cookin’?!

So D-Nozz has been liberated from Pete Rose’s “prison without walls” and comes clean to Peter Gallagher about how he was smokin’, smokin’, boogie tonight just keep on tokin’ in The Old Dude (Not Howie J. Reynolds) Real Estate Company and left his fully lit blunt in the office and it caught fire. And Peter Gallagher’s like, “Aw, I don’t care. I didn’t like that place anyway. And I’m proud of you for graduating.” Seriously, that’s about it. They share a hug, but D-Nozz says, “I won’t say, “I love you” to another man.” D-Nozz is an asshole. He and Iceman should go out gay-bashing together. Anyway, Peter Gallagher goes down to the DA’s office to get D-Nozz cleared and decides he wants to go back to working there. Well, I’ve heard worse ideas. It might actually give him a plotline in which they don’t just gloss over everything because no one cares.

So D-Nozz goes to graduation and tells Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14, The Anorexic 5000, and Little Russell Crowe that there was “some serious Peter Gallagher-D-Nozz man-boy love going on.” That’s why it’s taken me a week to recap this because I was trying to wash my brain out with soap. Except somehow it gets sicker. They encounter Tracy Flick who brags about her implied threesome after THE Prom with Everybody Yell Sung-Ho and Big Korean Flock of Seagulls. Man, I’m glad I didn’t eat before writing up this recap. Seriously, Everybody Yell Sung-Ho might win Worst Boyfriend Ever title for this. On top of getting uncomfortably close to another guy, not only does he offer up his girlfriend to another guy, but a family member. I mean, I like my cousins plenty, but I’m not A) going to fuck them, or B) sharing any chicks with them. And yes, if Kristen Bell said her fantasy was me and my cousin, I’ll unleash The Cobra because that would be a serious DOWNGRADE!!!!!!!!!!!!! Anyway, they graduate. Dr. Kim looks hot. And Tracy Flick, who became Valedictorian when she wasn’t gang-banging small Korean villages, gives a speech that ends with, “Don’t let the bastards get you down.” You can get away with saying, “bastards” at a snooty high school graduation? Well, then again, a friend of 8yearoldsdude’s allegedly got away with saying “shit-faced” at a snooty high school assembly. So after graduation, Carrie Wood shows D-Nozz that he’s gotten an acceptance letter from RISD. Mercifully, in a very out-of-character attempt at semi-realism, it says that he applied to late to be admitted in the fall semester, but he can start in the winter. So do they have rolling admissions? Anyway, as a big surprise he’s planned for 14, D-Nozz get a giant cardboard box, like the kind someone would live in, and puts the letter at the bottom of it and gives it to Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 as a graduation present. D-Nozz, you honestly think of yourself as a present? Enjoy your spaghetti; you’re very egotistical. (TM Dane Cook). That’s good news, not a present. Anyway, 14 is excited since she’s not considering the contrived ways the show can use a semester apart to split them up. So 14 decides to give him a “tour” of this giant cardboard box that now belongs to her. She then says to D-Nozz, and I’m quoting verbatim, “I want to show you the box.” OH MY GOD! I cannot believe she just say that. I can’t decide if that’s awful or awesome. I think it might be some of both. It bears mentioning that D-Nozz feels already, mama, I'm not jokin'.

Well, I just recapped the only moderately “interesting” parts of the episode, so I suggest you now wait for Monday. So it’s graduation time for our star-crossed, acting-crossed, and writing-crossed lovers, LRC and The Anorexic 5000. Hey, look. They have guests. Go Go White Sox has come to visit LRC, but has mysteriously left Snake back in Albuquerque. They don’t address this. On The Anorexic 5000’s side, Small Wonder has returned, and says it’s for good. She didn’t get kicked out of school, but she’s decided that now that The Anorexic 5000 is graduating, she will “rule The OCk Prep.” Whatever you say, there, Small Wonder. First of all, didn’t Hot Gobette make the call to send her to boarding school? So doesn’t she get the call as to whether she comes back? Also, doesn’t Small Wonder have to get into The OCk Prep? As far as guests go, I’ll give the advantage to Go Go White Sox. She may have a mullet, but Small Wonder talks stupid. Although I’m glad she has a good nickname since she’ll be on next season. Unlike when you half-ass the nickname and then the dude turns out to never go away because he’s sucking off the producer? ICEMAN, you motherfucker! And he’s in this one too, goddamn it!

Speaking of, yeah, LRC and The Anorexic 5000 may be high school graduates (I covered that already), but even a high school diploma won’t rid them of Iceman. Yeah, as long as he keeps sucking (literally), this plotline drags out and drags out and drags out. Josh Schwartz, Iceman loves you long-time. Iceman grabs LRC at the beginning of the show and says unless LRC gives him thousands of dollars to get out of town, he’ll turn him in to the cops, despite the lack of physical evidence connecting LRC to the attempted car robbery. So The Anorexic 5000 says they can pawn her graduation present to pay him off, since as she says, “brought Iceman on everyone.” Well, at least she accepts some responsibility here. The Anorexic 5000 opens the present Hot Gobette gave her, and … wait, ARE THOSE BEN-WAH BALLS? From a different angle it may be a pearl necklace (which does not take us anywhere close to out of the gutter), but they look some serious shade of metallic. So Little Russell Crowe gives the money they received for Hot Gobette’s family heirloom ben-wah balls and pays off Iceman. Trouble is, Iceman just can’t make up his mind what he wants. Either that or they just need one of the worst plot contrivances in history. Actually, you’ll see it’s some of both later. Anyway, Iceman whines (literally) to Big Red that he doesn’t want to leave without talking to The Anorexic 5000, and … WAIT A MINUTE! Big Red is still hanging out with him? SERIOUSLY, IF SOMEONE IMPLICITLY CONDONED HIS OR HER FRIENDS TRYING TO GANG RAPE ME, THAT MIGHT BE A FUCKING DEALBREAKER!!!!!!!!! Sorry, that just bothers me. So Iceman decides that instead of leaving with the sex-toy money, he’ll just stalk The Anorexic 5000 instead. Or is that what he’s doing? I keep bringing this up just so I can make his “motivations” sound as idiotic as whatever they are when we get to the end.

Well, Iceman’s not the only one who’s supposed to be leaving, but isn’t. Right before graduation, The Anorexic 5000 received a letter from Charon the Boatman. It said he’s re-set-up business chartering boats for rich people, just like before. Except this time he hasn’t gotten himself in debt to Old Ian Ziering. That we know of. He offers her a spot working on a boat he’s sailing to the Greek Islands and she decides this would be a good idea for a year before she starts college. She’s actually right. If she’s not ready to start college, she should take a year off. What she’s wrong about is that she has a year off before college confused with the rest of her life. Because she’s saying “forever goodbyes” to people when she’ll only be gone a year. And “forever goodbyes” take up too much time and are boring to watch. The only one who gets it is Little Russell Crowe, who after she says, “So did you think it would turn out like this?” says, “What makes you think it’s over?” While I disagree with Little Russell Crowe’s choice of chicks here, I am a great believer in, “You never know,” so I thought that was the strongest point of the episode. But lots of tears and goodbyes and I don’t care.

So the night after the graduation, they need something to do for The Anorexic 5000’s last night in town, because of course she leaves tomorrow. I wonder if it’s on Blue Crush’s uncle’s fishing boat. Anyway, The Anorexic 5000 decides they should hop the fence and swim in the pool at some house they showed in flashbacks when Iceman was working there when she fell down the stairs. OK, having just graduated from high school, I’m sure the smartest thing to do is get arrested for trespassing. And while I sit on that though … OH NO! I’M BLIND!!!!!!! The Anorexic 5000 and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 are wearing bikinis! Yuck! No, seriously. Neither one has any kind of a body. It’s really just not something I want to look at ever again. I will give them a small modicum of credit for one of the only continuity moments ever. The Anorexic 5000 still has that cheesy lower back tattoo she got with Flock of Seagulls. Or at least it returned for an episode. And at least it’s smaller than the last one I saw. Guh! (TM Keith Olbermann). So then they reminisce about how they met and lots of stuff from Season 1 and I don’t care. And they say that 14 wanted to bang Little Russell Crowe until she found out he was from 10 Minutes Away in Chino and, what a bitch! Well, at least she’s consistent from Season 1. And The Anorexic 5000 apologizes to LRC for all the drama queen shit she put him through and he says he wouldn’t have changed a thing except for something I don’t what he’s talking about and don’t care. In LRC’s defense, what else is he gonna say in a long goodbye moment? “Yeah, you did put me through hell. Fuck you! And get out!” Hmm, that actually doesn’t sound too bad. Anyway, it’s finally time for LRC to take The Anorexic 5000 to the airport so they cry and say goodbye some more and I don’t care.

Although it doesn’t wind up being relevant at all, now would be the time to throw in that Go Go White Sox bought Little Russell Crowe a old-school used Toyota Land Cruiser (I think that’s what it is, remember, I don’t know cars) that was restored by Snake (so I guess they’re not on the outs, so where is he?) for his graduation. So LRC is driving The Anorexic 5000 to the airport in it. When suddenly, uh oh. They’re being followed. It’s … one of the Scooby-Doo ghost vehicles? Close. It’s the Iceman Van and Iceman’s drinking from his flask as he drives. And Big Red’s riding shotgun rather than getting out. Big Red may actually be the dumbest person on the whole show. I’m not saying she might have deserved what she almost got earlier, but it’s not Zeus and Hera putting her in these positions. So Little Russell Crowe’s new sled obviously didn’t have the engine restored because the Iceman Van catches him and pulls up along side him. And now it’s time for possible the worst writing in television history. Iceman proceeds to shout repeatedly, “Let’s finish this!” Now, he’s been saying that since the fall. However, it’s all he says. Maybe he just can’t articulate. Or maybe the writers are just fucking lazy. Seriously. WHAT THE FUCK DOES “FINISH THIS” MEAN? He said it when he wanted LRC to fight him in the fall. Then he said it again when LRC fought him after THE Prom. So he got his wish, but got his ass kicked. Does he just say that until he “wins?” Evidently, “Let’s finish this!” means, “Let’s fight and you let me win.” Then when Iceman wanted him to steal the car, it was, “Let’s finish this,” so does it mean, “Let me make you my bitch?” And then this week, with the money, “Let’s finish this.” But he has the money! COME UP WITH SOMETHING ELSE TO SAY, YOU FUCKING MONGOLOID, BECAUSE EACH TIME YOU SAY THAT, YOU DETRACT FROM ITS MEANING, IF IT HAS ANY AND I DON’T THINK IT DOES! I cannot express to you how bad this is. There’s a running joke on Television Without Pity about how characters never even attempt to explain their actions or situations; they just say, “It’s complicated.” Well, I think, “Let’s finish this!” has to join the pantheon of pathetically lazy writing. Seriously, this makes me so mad I want to jack someone in the face. Although I kinda wanted to do that anyway today.

While I know anything will be anticlimactic (for me) after that rant, here’s what happens. Iceman’s idea of “talking” to The Anorexic 5000 appears to be trying to knock the LRC-Mobile off a cliff. And damn if he’s not successful. That Iceman is an expert communicator, as we’ve established above. The LRC-Mobile tumbles off a small cliff and rolls a bunch. Considering he was driving and took the initial impact, you’d think LRC would be fucked up. But he’s fine and yells, “Geronimo” and climbs out the win-dow. (Can anyone guess the TM on that? It’s old.) The Anorexic 5000, on the other hand, is not so lucky. Oh sure, she looks fine. Except she has a big cut on her head. The cut of death. Oh sure, Carrie Wood got in a much worse accident and was fine, as was Vaughn on Alias. But let’s not let comparative literature get in the way of a weak exit. My guess is that they’ll just say The Anorexic 5000 had lots of “internal injuries.” Because after Little Russell Crowe pulls her out of the LRC-Mobile, which then catches fire, he talks to her for a while instead of calling 911. And what would her last words be? How about, “Yo, VIP! Let’s kick it!” Hey, The Anorexic 5000! How you gonna kick it? Gonna kick it root down! (TM Beastie Boys).

So friends, I think there’s a very valuable lesson to be learned here. Eat. If you eat, your organs will be protected. Your bones will be less brittle. And if a waste of space character with the producer’s dick in his mouth runs you off the road, you will not die.

Next season: Everyone uses The Anorexic 5000’s death as an excuse not to go to college. And Iceman screams, “Let’s finish this!” at her corpse during the funeral before his friends try to rape it. Thanks for reading, 8yearoldsdude and Choi, and see you next season!

But for the grace of God ground out I

2006-05-24T10:35:00.000-07:00

So a couple weeks ago I was watching a Cubs game and inexplicably Neifi Perez hit a double. Now even though the entire team sucks, Neifi Perez happens to be one of my favorite scapegoats in that he appears to have pictures of someone in a high position, since no one who sucks that much should play so much. The one thing I will say for him is that if my life ever depended on someone grounding to second, I'd choose Neifi Perez. (Although Juan Pierre is starting to give him a run).

Anyway, so Neifi Perez hits a double, gets up and points to the sky. Evidently, he is thanking something in the sky, perhaps the moon, but most likely God, for his double. "What a humble guy," I thought to myself, immediately after composed myself from laughing hysterically that someone had given up a double to Neifi Perez. However, the "good feeling" subsided once I started to think. And isn't that the way it always works?

Once you step outside the moment, this becomes an extravagant mixture of hilarious and ridiculous. What exactly constitutes Neifi Perez’s belief system as far as how God factors into his play. Neifi Perez is hitting .192. If he thanks God for making him hit a double, is he pissed off that God makes him suck? Admittedly, we’re talking major league standards here, so he’s still better than the population at large and most of the minor leagues, but still, when Neifi Perez says his prayers, does he thank God for giving him the talent to play major league baseball, just not enough to make him good in major league baseball?

Does Neifi Perez believe, like many do to rationalize shit, that God has a master plan for him and for everyone, so whatever happens to him is part of that plan. And for whatever reason, God’s plan is for him to hit .192? He didn’t bunt that ball back to Chad Cordero last Thursday to end the game because he was taking a payoff; he did it because God wanted the Cubs to lose that game and God had special plans for Neifi as to his role in how they would lose. Perhaps he’s happy when he grounds to second because he’s doing God’s will.

There was an old standup routine by … I think it was Jeff Stilson, but feel free to correct me, about how players thank God for success, but never blame God for failure. The punchline was, “We were doing great until Jesus made me fumble. He HATES our team!” But Stilson was still dealing in the realm of the star players. Who’s taken the time to consider the theological makeup of the scrub?

Here’s my most pressing question. How does Neifi Perez’s faith account for players that are much better than he is? Does God just like Albert Pujols that much more? Admittedly, I was the kid growing up who’d bitch that his brother always got the bigger piece of cake, but if I were Neifi, I’d be pretty pissed off about that. And how does Neifi Perez coincide God and steroids. For instance, his former teammate Barry Bonds is way fucking better than he is, and then he goes on the juice. Does God like Barry Bonds that much more to begin with, but is now pissed off that Barry Bonds is cheating? Or is it part of God’s plan for Barry Bonds to take steroids, much like it is for Neifi Perez to hit .192?

I admit I’ve been rather glib up until this point, but since I’ve been taking the time to think about it, I legitimately am curious. If you or someone you know or someone you’ve studied or know something about attributes your, his, or her successes to God, what’s the bigger picture view on this when you or they start taking others and relative levels of success into account. I promise not to make fun of you. I just really want to know.

Enjoy your spaghetti; you're very egotistical

2006-05-22T12:34:00.000-07:00

This ain't the first time. I called you out again. You spent all your time ... in a little cubicle. In a cubicle! Time for Musings!

- I cannot get that fucking song unstuck from my head. You know, from the newest ITunes commercials. If you've encountered me in the past 4 days, chances are I was singing it. Out loud. And poorly. Considering I've been in a down mood for the past 4 days, I hope it's just a coincidence. But on the off chance it isn't, someone please unstick it!
- It's been yet another tough week to be a Cubs fan. On top of just plain sucking, some drunken strumpet decided to chuck a baseball at right fielder Jacque Jones (or as I call him, "Jackee," as in the annoying 227 and Hollywood Squares chick from the '80s). How fucking stupid does one have to be to pull shit like that? I have no idea how she got off without even a slap on the wrist. Seriously, I know the Cubs suck, and it's a bummer. And this season's over and next season I turn 30. But at the risk of the biggest cliche ever, it's only a game. If you're upset enough about the Cubs sucking that you feel the need to try to injure them, you have a problem and don't deserve to call yourself a fan; you're just a psycho. The most frustrating part for me is the attempted evening of the score between incidents for Cubs and White Sox fans. Any sane person knows that perfectly cool, knowledgeable, non-idiot fans reside on both sides, but as a Cubs fan, it was nice to have the William Ligue family to hold over the Sox. Even if they don't shrug it off the way I do about the stereotypes of what I called "douchebag "fans"" at Wrigley, because I don't like them either, and can't defend it. So couldn't you have at least let me keep that, you stupid whore!
- Making matters worse, I know that Choi and I fall on opposite sides of this despite both being huge Cubs fans, but on Saturday, Cubs catcher Michael Barrett saw fit to jack White Sox catcher A.J. Pierzynski in the face. Like Barrett was Dane Cook and A.J. was a bee. Sadly, the video's down, but it looked a bit like this: http://www.sportsfrog.com/archives/2006_05.html#009129. Yeah, it was kinda fun to watch, but you just can't pull that shit, especially when you're one of the only players the Cubs have that doesn't completely blow. I'm hearing a 10-game suspension rumored and the Cubs backup catcher is the .050 (you heard correctly) hitting Henry Blanco, aka "Hank the Blank." I know Barrett was just plain pissed off that the Cubs were getting their asses handed to them again and I know I'm not always the most even-tempered person (which makes it good that I was a swimmer), but still, you gotta think long-term. Personally, I think it Pierzynski running over Barrett was clean. Barrett was blocking the plate, expecting a good throw. It's not Pierzynski's fault that Matt Murton's throw sucked balls and left him out to dry. If you want revenge on Pierzynski for whatever reason, LET A SCRUB DO IT! Let Will Oh Man He Sucks hit him with a pitch! Who gives a fuck if he gets suspended? Idiots. Morons. You guys wanna kick my dog while you're at it? (TM Cam Neely)
- On another bad sports note, Marcel Goc, Jonathan Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer, and the San Jose Sharks were rewarded for their fans' booing of the Canadian National Anthem by losing in 6 games to the Edmonton Oilers. It should be noted that at game 6 in Edmonton, the Oilers fans responded by giving the U.S. National Anthem a standing ovation. Now the Oilers lead the Anaheim Ducks 2 games to 0. Good on them and this concludes our Marcel Goc Watch for the season.
- On a better note, time for the Bend It Official Major League Baseball Player Dan Uggla Watch! Continuing his love for Bend It, Dan Uggla, one of the lone bright spots in his Marlins' 7-game losing streak, went 10-31 with 2 home runs and 4 RBIs, bringing him to .305 with 6 home runs and 21 RBIs. Since he's a second baseman, I'm mostly watching the average. And don't worry about that 7-game losing streak. The Marlins play the Cubs tonight, so that's a done deal.
- Back to A.J. Pierzynski for a second, while he wasn't at fault Saturday, another guy they could have take him out is the San Francisco Giants' trainer. Allegedly, while treating Pierzynski's groin injury and asking how he felt, Pierzynski kicked the trainer right in the bozak. http://sporlitics.blogspot.com/2006/05/thank-you-michael-barrett.html. Now that DOES deserve a good ass-kicking, but just in a different context and not by a guy the Cubs need on the field. Unfortunately, the White Sox and Giants don't play each other this season.
- Has anyone yet seen a commercial for a scripted show for this summer? Because watching commercials this past week just made me want to cry. A show with dating tips for 4 kinds of women? Thanks, ABC. So evidently you can watch Sex and the City without jokes or friendships. Nice. Dancing Without the Stars? Thanks, Fox. It's like every commercial I saw, movies included, was just one big commercial for Netflix. (Speaking of, I'm holding a 2-week coupon, but if anyone can hook me up with a month, I'll swap them some coffee).
- I'd like to name a front-runner for worst movie of the summer without seeing it. "The Break Up" with Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston. Yeah, I want to see Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston fight over their shit and then decide to get back together. Oh wait. I think I'd rather watch Ryan Seacrest as King Lear. I've already lost pretty much all respect for Vince Vaughn just for banging Jennifer Aniston, and I'm sure as hell not going to watch what assuredly will be a harrowing display of tedious whining.
- Actually, I should start a contest to try to come up with a movie this summer that I actually want to see. Sorry, X-Men fans. I don't like comic book movies. Or Brett Ratner.
- I haven't quite decided whether this is funny or not. I know it's awful, but is it awful on purpose? Is it awful and thinks it's good but is still funny unintentionally because it thinks it's good and isn't? Is it so awful that it eclipses any potential humor? Do the rubber snakes (AWESOME) outweigh Maxim (stupid)? http://www.bestweekever.tv/2006/05/18/propped-snakes-on-a-plane-still-funny/.
- Allegedly, Paris Hilton wants to record a cover of Gnarls Barkley (also known as Cee-Lo (not to be confused with Skee-Lo) Green and Danger Mouse)'s "Crazy" on her upcoming potential album. http://www.thesuperficial.com/2006/05/22/paris_hilton_delays_album_agai.html. There is nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- Hmm, evidently, as part of the Drinking and Writing society here in Chicago, they're having a 2-Drink Minimum writing contest. http://www.drinkingandwriting.com/wst_page6.html. I actually doubt I'd be a natural. Believe it or not, I've never drank while writing Bend It. And I don't think a recap of The OCk is really what this contest is looking for. However, if I were to know a few poets and nonfiction writers that inhabit Bend It ...
- So Starbucks mercifully finally took down all the Akeelah and the Bee shit in favor of summery promotions. Now they have bears dressed as golfers. And if you come into my store, you'll see they have nametags reading things like, "Cinderella Story. Out of Nowhere." I think my manager was so still upset at me for playing with a basset hound while I was supposed to be cleaning tables that he forgot to check the bears for nametags, so they still could be there. Seriously, 5 hours later, still mad. It was pretty impressive.
- Anyone who saw Desperate Housewives last night, aside from thanks for the last half hour perhaps only being almost tolerable because I watched my tape of The OCk earlier in the day, what the fuck was up with Susan's hair in that one flashback? It was an awful '80s straight-up frizz job, except the flashback was 12 years ago, so it would have been 1994. I have no idea what the rest of that scene was about because I couldn't unfocus myself from the hair. OK, so one other thing caught my attention. I'm so totally going to have to remember to name the American Presidents when the time comes.
- Speaking of The OCk, evidently, it still will be on next year, but at the same time as Grey's, which ABC moved to 9 (8 CT) on Thursdays to try to build up some other show on Thursdays. If I get a DVR between now and then, I'll most likely ... well, I haven't decided yet, but it'll get figured out. On a happier note, Veronica Mars was renewed for a third season on the combo UPN-WB. It will be on after Gilmore Girls, so just keep your TV on, 8yearoldsdude.
- OK, so I did see the season finale of Grey's. I didn't do the happy dance when Denny kicked it (root down, says the tradition for the OCk recaps) just because he lived long enough to make me sit through endless hours of crap. Don't get me wrong. I'm happy he's dead. But midseason wouldn't have hurt. I was surprised when I discovered that some people actually liked him. Maybe I was just being narrow-minded, but I will stick by my narrow-mindedness this time. 8yearoldsdude actually called it right that Izzie liked him for allegedly seeing the real her, whoever that is, but still. That was fucking ridiculous. And I laughed almost as hard at Denny's, "Izzie Stevens, I choose you" speech as her own last week. Not quite as much, but close. Regardless of whether Izzie's still on the show, she should have been kicked out just for sheer stupidity. I will admit to kind of liking everyone sticking up for her anyway, just because it made me think about what I'd do in their situation, and I generally have to stand behind anything that supports teamwork. Yeah, Alex definitely came off the best this episode. Who would have guessed? I had to take a couple metaphorical drinks for that. I liked Cristina freaking out because I thought that was really believable. I respect the show when they write stuff that would actually happen. I even thought that George's confession to Meredith that he knew what would happen and did it anyway was realistic and liked him better for it, even though he had whined for like 8 episodes straight and blamed it on her. At first I was like, "What the fuck? Trying to undo 8 weeks of how it was written?" But sometimes it takes perspective to actually realize why you do shit and you don't realize it at the time. I'll accept that. Dr. Webber's niece was also on Veronica Mars, bringing the total of 4 crossovers this season and 5 total if you count the chick whose fiance shoved her in front of the bullets last week who was on like 2 episodes in season 1. Did she not report her condition because she wanted a normal high-school experience and that made her worse, or would she have kicked it anyway? Nice to see Marla, or whatever her name is on Grey's, but she's still Marla from Boston Public. I thought the weakest part of the show BY FAR was Meredith's thing at the end. It's not even a "cliffhanger" from episode to episode. She's still going to leave with Chris O'Donnell and then go back to Dr. Shepherd later next season. But it's not a realistic decision just by normal logistics. Dr. Shepherd and Addison's marriage won't be over that night. So don't even try to sell me that moment as suspenseful. In addition to which, I don't care. Although I'm still trying to decide if I can buy pink hair Goth Meredith or not. She has the background for it, but not the temperament.
- Here's what I still want to know. One of the things I like about Grey's is that you don't like the characters all the time and on purpose. They fuck up, either realistically or ridiculously, and occasionally have some semblance of depth, even if a detractor could easily argue that "depth" is just inconsistent writing. But I want to know was the Izzie-Denny plotline conceived with the intention that we'd love it or hate it? Because as I think I've said before, if I was meant to hate it, then I give the show credit. If I was meant to love it, then they did an abysmal job with it.
- Finally, OK, so I have no idea who this guy is, aside from that he hangs out with Paris Hilton and makes fun of Lindsay Lohan's ... uh ... physicality on camera (yeah, we know, pot, kettle, Monica). But I'm convinced he's Denny's long-lost brother. http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/05/brandon_fuggis.html.

Stave it off, 1-2-3! Now you can count to three. (http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail110.html)

TA-DA!!!!!

2006-05-19T09:14:00.000-07:00

Welcome back to Extreme Writer's Block Week here at Bend It. I actually feel really bad about it, but hey, I guess it happens to everyone. I've been really distracted this week and got kinda screwed myself in terms of cheap content by botching my taping of Grey's. Well, at least ya'll have a lot to look forward to next week.

Anyway, as you probably know, I'm no fan of Eva Longoria. I'm still at a loss as to how a stick figure who can't act keeps getting named Sexiest Woman Alive in stupid polls and shit. But anyway, I might have to reconsider my judgment since she appears, at least accidentally, to know the sickest joke I know. (Thanks, Sergio). That would be the saga of Winky the Clown. I unfortunately or fortunately, depending on who you are, can't tell it here just because it's impossible to do without the visual.

In the words of Footnotes, or not words, rather the computer character interpretation of the punchline: "m_ _m!"

Bunny is the soul of wit (TM Oscar Wilde, sort of)

2006-05-17T14:02:00.000-07:00

So I managed to try to tape the finale of Grey's Anatomy on a tape that was near the end. To my credit, I hadn't fucked up taping something in a while. But I had to borrow a tape from a co-worker and they forgot it, so sadly there will be no Grey's chat for a little while. Combine that with my not being home tomorrow during The OCk and I've definitely failed you guys this week. I suppose in times like this, there's really only one thing you can do. And that would be to post pictures of a bunny. Thanks, Zekers, for the pictures and special thanks to Zeke the bunny (which is his real name), for the non-snarky entertainment.
I'll have to post my scanned picture of Wubba, the basset, on my family's couch at home during his heyday. It gives a good perspective on how small Zeke actually is when he's not the center of the photo.

I actually got to sample some of the leafy green stuff at the end of the carrot when I went to pay Zeke a visit a few weeks back. It's not too bad, and probably good for me.

Your move, Cat Choi!

Go ninja, go ninja, go!

2006-05-15T12:27:00.000-07:00

So let's get a party going! Let's get a party going! Now it's time to party and we'll party hard! (Party hard!) Let's get a party going! Let's get a party going! When it's time to party we will always party hard! PARTY HARD! PARTY HARD! PARTY HARD! PARTY HARD! PARTY HARD! PARTY HARD! PARTY HARD! PARTY HARD! Time for Musings!

- Special thanks to 8yearoldsdude for providing the backwards "Party Hard" signs. It's the little things that make all the difference.
- Happy Mother's Day to ... well, there aren't any mothers on Bend It yet, but all the moms of all the awesome people who either read, respond, or both. You helped raise some amazing people and outstanding Tourists!
- Grey's isn't coming up for a few more items, but I just wanted to say in advance, "Shut up, Izzie, times 100 million!"
- I want to give all y'all about as much props as I possibly can for really bringing it last Wednesday. That was pretty much the Platonic form of what an interactive post should be. Everyone really showed that they're smart and funny and it really touched a brother's heart. On top of that, I'm even going to give Sex and the City another chance. Whether I like it or not is immaterial, since it's a matter of personal taste. I asked y'all to explain why it's quality and you all did a fantastic job. That was Bend It at its finest.
- Also in the spirit of excellence last week, it's time for the Bend It Official Major League Baseball Player Dan Uggla Watch! Seriously, he should write us a check, because in the 2 weeks he's been our official major league baseball player, he's raised his average 50 points! Last week, he went 9-21 (.429), raising his average to .301 in addition to his 4 home runs and 17 RBIs. Would that he were on the Cubs.
- Not worthy of praise at all would be the San Jose Sharks, who remembered their goaltending sucks and now trail the Edmonton Oilers in their series 3 games to 2, despite Marcel Goc's assist last night. More embarrassing, the San Jose fans booed the Canadian national anthem last night before the game. That's expansion, folks! Fucking embarrassing. I thought the Bay Area was supposed to be open-minded, a place where the Democrats are thought to be conservative. Come on, people! Allegedly, it was a response to some Edmonton fans booing the American anthem on Friday, but you just can't do that. You can be the better fans. Playoffs or not, Canada kicks ass and its anthem deserves to be cheered under any circumstances.
- OK, as an English major, this may be the funniest thing I've ever seen, or close. It's a faux-Wallace Stevens tribute to Chris Berman. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/espn/chris-berman-slash-poetry-172212.php. Speaking of, it's only 4 months until Choi's birthday. She's already asked for her very own "You're With Me, Leather!" t-shirt. http://deadspin.com/sports/deadspin/the-tshirts-theyre-finally-here-172816.php.
- Speaking of Choi, she and I and two friends of Choi headed down to the Chicago Beer Festival on Saturday. (http://www.beerfestintl.com/chicago/flash.htm). Tickets were $41, which equals expensive as fuck, so our goal was to get our money's worth. Did we drink $41 of beer? I actually don't know because we had these tiny sampling cups, but at least I made a miraculous temporary recovery from feeling like shit for a few days and a great time was had by all. I really wish I could tell you which beer was the best, except they all kinda blended together after a while. I remember a "Chocolat Ale" from ... yeah, I don't know, but it was good. I tried to get the Guinness/Harp booth to give me a sample black and tan, but they didn't appear to be amused or willing. However, I did get to play one of my favorite Clerks references and go, "Oooh, Navy Pier!"
- Before the festival, Choi requested that I post the link to the Rick Sutcliffe drunken interview, and seeing as though A) it's hilarious, and B) my mind is completely elsewhere today and I'm very short on commentary, I'm gonna do it. Last week, former Cubs and other teams' pitcher and current ESPN announcer Sutcliffe wandered into the San Diego Padres booth, which allegedly was his former broadcast job, and after a day of golfing with Bill Murray, proceeded to make America laugh. But not intentionally. http://www.gaslampball.com/story/2006/5/11/11485/5817. I think the highlight has to be his talking about George Clooney trying to help stop poverty in Africa. According to Sutcliffe, Clooney is going to "go to Congress and try to solve this thing." There is nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- Anyone want to see an ABC News piece on 8yearoldsdude's study in Alaska? I do. Oh wait, they're showing his boss from the neck up because I think he's getting a blowjob. Anyway, if you look really hard, you can see 8yearoldsdude wander through the background in the beginning. To his credit, in the presence of a TV camera, he didn't immediately start screaming and hold up a homemade poster for Fall Out Boy. http://www.abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=1707862.
- Fresh off a reprimand for using some of my post here about the Wiggles as part of a promotional email at work (allegedly, it was "licensor-unfriendly" and once in email form, could potentially get back to them and ruin a licensing agreement. Selective prosecution at its finest), I switched up and did something with Tom Cruise that mentioned his desire to eat Katie or Kate Holmes' placenta after she gave birth. Footnotes asked me, "Are you trying to get yourself fired?" Perhaps my lines are skewed, but I don't consider a natural childbirth joke offensive. That's a part of the natural circle of life, just as if I'd said something about a cat killing a mouse, except with less death in it. Point being, is there actually a taboo here that I just didn't know about? (For the record, I did not get in any trouble for that as Tom Cruise is not one of our licensing partners and the powers that be thought it was funny).
- Speaking of Tom Cruise, his evil plot to lock Katie Holmes inside an expensive promotional car and make off with the future messiah of Scientology (besides Stan from South Park of course) was foiled. But to his credit, it did take a while to stop him.
http://www.thesuperficial.com/2006/05/11/tom_cruise_understands_cars.html.
- Speaking of idiots, Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker Joey Porter announced he was going to give George Bush a piece of his mind when the Super Bowl champion Steelers visit the White House. http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/06135/690263-66.stm. Normally, I'd be all for this, especially if it involves tackling him like Terry Tate: Office Linebacker. But don't announce it! I think Joey Porter really just wants to get shot in the other ass cheek, so he's publicly asking for it.
- Speaking of Joey Porter, the funniest thing I've read today was Chuck Klosterman's quote on Joey Porter's motivational techniques before the Super Bowl: “In order to be exceptionally unstoppable, you also need to be psychologically immature; you need to be like a 12-year-old girl on Myspace.com. You need fragile feelings." Well played, Chuck. But let's just hope the unlike Myspace users, Joey Porter does not like to post lingerie-clad photos of himself. Now Tsuyoshi Shinjo on the other hand ... http://www.deadspin.com/sports/baseball/tsuyoshi-shinjo-would-like-to-cordially-invite-you-to-see-his-penis-170290.php.
- Well, who knows? Maybe while he's in DC, Joey Porter will go down to Congress and solve this thing.
- In other NFL news, Jacksonville Jaguars receiver Jimmy Smith, who's good, has retired, allegedly to "start the next phase of his life." Which if it continues anything like the first phases will involve being a cokehead.
- Today's kind of a sad day for me. I watched my tape of the finale of Veronica Mars yesterday, which means I have to wait until September at least for new episodes. I know I hate graduation episodes, but I admit to choking up a bit watching Veronica walk the stage. In honor, I think I've posted this before, but: http://movies.msn.com/movies/gallery.aspx?gallery=10634.
- Saturday, I actually had a Starbucks customer who looked a bit like Veronica Mars, at least in the face. I mean I can't see the real Veronica wearing an Abercrombie sweatshirt and she looked like she had a bit of the "hot girl attitude," but I did ask her if anyone had told her she looked like Veronica Mars. I wasn't hitting on her, just curious to see if anyone else had noticed. Evidently, I was the first, but I'm not sure she realized the amount to which I meant it as a compliment. Which sorta reminds me a bit of one of my favorite JoshuaTrees stories from Georgetown. Anyway, she's allowed to come back on principle. I'll even give her free coffee if she solves mysteries for me.
- OK, time for Grey's Anatomy chat. Did I mention, Shut up, Izzie times 100 million!!!!!!!!! What the freaking heck was that? Seriously! Now 8yearoldsdude and Choi both attempted to convince me as to what Izzie could see in Denny underneath the 6 layers of grime. But the hysterical freak-out about how "she LOVES him?" I repeat what I said before. Either she's legitimately 10-bell cuckoo or it's really poor writing on their part. And now I'm really starting to think it's the latter because it takes a strong will to force a plotline that everyone, men, women, Democrats, Republicans, can't stand on us for half a season. I mean that's getting into OCk territory there. There is no and I repeat no evidence of any reason Izzie wouldn't just like him but love him unless she's getting admitted to the psych ward tonight. I always dropped my dinner I was eating from laughing at her hysterical freak-out speech. It was about an 100 million on the Unintentional Comedy Scale. High marks to Addison, who despite her own freak-out, clearly gets it, which makes her about the only one at this point. Even Bailey has lost her mojo what with letting Izzie work on Denny and saying "heck" instead of "hell." She tried to convince us with the speech to Mark Cuban-looking Guy (who was actually Ken Marino from The State, also Vinnie VanLowe from Veronica Mars and professor I can't remember from Dawson's Creek), but it still didn't have the claws. See, baby = bad TV. The whole Burke-Cristina thing, I still say Burke, get the fuck over it! Cristina does need to shut up about him "withholding surgery," though, because while it's true and that's completely unprofessional, it's also completely unprofessional that he always gave her the surgeries in exchange for head, so you take the good, you take the bad, and the facts of life are all about you, Cristina! OK, the "Doc the dog represents Meredith and Dr. Shepherd's love" thing, dude, my head hurts. Anvils keep falling on it. I'll need the brain surgery in a second. George, what the fuck? I was about to congratulate him for having a decent episode by standing up to Torres about Meredith and the dog (Normally, I'd congratulate her for telling off Meredith, but I love dogs, so shut up, Torres!), but then he has like 10 minutes, but stands around grabbing his johnson while Izzie attempts to get herself disbarred. It wasn't even like a bang-bang play. She's standing there with the scissors for like 10 minutes. And shut up, Izzie for not letting George leave while she and Denny made out. Just shut up, Izzie, in general! Also, shut up, Izzie!
- OK, reading comprehension time. I'm not going to be home tonight, so PLEASE, NO DISCUSSION OF TONIGHT'S EPISODE!!!!!!! Just Sunday's until I throw the switch. Yes, I am using executive privilege. I'll try to watch it in a timely fashion and then post up my thoughts so we can discuss in a separate place.
- And finally, Toss-Up: Meredith's "Choose me, pick me, love me" speech or Izzie's "What about me?" speech?

My mother told me good. My mother told me strong. She said, "Be true to yourself, and you can't go wrong. But there's just one thing. That you must understand. You can fool with your brother ... But don't mess with a missionary man."

Diesel power!

2006-05-12T11:59:00.000-07:00

So I switched the planned order of posts around this week to move this one over to Friday where people are used to not reading. It’ll make sense in a bit.

So I mentioned Monday that my best friend Diesel got engaged last Friday. I can’t even begin to say how happy I am for him. I actually feel like a tiny little part of me got engaged too.

Now I don’t actually know where Diesel’s nickname comes from, since it was a law school thing. (The nickname he picked out for himself in reference here on Bend It was taken by a previous correspondent). But behind the trash talk that is endemic to both of our personalities and our friendship, he’s about the best guy ever. And as is wont to happen to the good guys, a good number of stupid chicks have dragged him around a bit or took him for granted. You know, the kind of guy that would cook you dinner or would take you to the airport at 5 AM with a bag of your favorite foods. Probably a much better guy than I am. But when you’re a high school, college, post-college, whatever chick, that tends not to be what you’re looking for, so it takes a really special type of girl to appreciate that. And to put up with the fact that he can be an admitted pain in the ass. But not in a bad way.

We grew up 2 houses from each other and have been friends since I was like 6 years old, so it’s kinda like having a second brother. Certainly when you factor in the amount of time spent in each other’s houses. In elementary school and middle school we spent most every afternoon playing street hockey outside either his house or our friend Jeffrey’s with Jeffrey and 8yearoldsdude. Which is a huge part of where my hockey fandom came from.

When we got to high school, while most kids were out raiding their parents liquor cabinets or indiscriminately hooking up (and by the way, at my high school during my years, the term wasn’t “hooking up,” it was “getting on someone,” which … well, you know), we were going to the movies and our favorite pizza place or eating pizza and watching WWF (which it was at the time) pay-per-views on his cable scrambler or going to hockey games both in town and out (including a playoff trip to Pittsburgh where we had cups of ice and nacho cheese and peanuts thrown on us) and discussing our relative lack of Sunny-ness. Now this is a Diesel-ism, not mine. In reference to a rather attractive wrestling manager (who turned out to have some pretty serious problems behind the scenes), he coined the term “Sunny” as a woman who was like Top 5% in both looks and personality. So really the best of the best. Obviously, this is all relative since personal taste enters in quite a bit, and the older we got, you know then you develop your theories about how there’s a threshold of attractiveness one has to get past and then the whole rest of it is determined by personality. But you get what I mean. “The dream,” as it stood, was that we’d both eventually find our Sunnies, ones who weren’t all about the douchebag guys out there, and we’d get married and grow old splitting season tickets to the Washington Capitals. Man, that still sounds nice.

I can’t confirm this, but I think the first one to actually have a girlfriend might have been me. Although it hardly counts considering how well that went (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/07/he-certainly-looks-insatiable.html). He was more active socially in college, given that he was less shy than myself and not waylaid with swimming and the newspaper and such. I went to Michigan to visit a couple times and it really opened my eyes as to the kind of guy he was to people besides me. All his friends there were super nice to me, which I can’t say has always happened in parallel situations (Credit 8yearoldsdude’s college friends who were also super-cool to me). They said, “If you’re [Diesel’s real name’s] best friend, you have to be a great guy.” One of those guys was Mr. U, who’s probably preparing to mail be a box of douche after he reads this love letter.

The one who tanked “the dream,” at least for the time being, well that was I as well. I moved here to Chicago, ostensibly for law school. And he started law school at the same time at William and Mary in Williamsburg, VA, which is actually where his brother went to undergrad. But before I moved, we went on my first trip to Vegas, which stands as one of the best times of my life. Then I went and tanked “the dream” further by dropping out of law school, this skewing our dual career tracks and earning potential. But naturally, he was cool with it since, worry as I did, all that mattered to him was my happiness. He even said the whole Thanksgiving weekend I was home for the first time since leaving law school that he hated it too and wanted to drop out and become a high school teacher. I have no idea if he was telling the truth at the time, and frankly I don’t really want to, but it made me feel better, even if I still felt like shit.

Anyway, my life more together, we went on a second trip to Vegas about a year later. It kinda sucked for me, which is a different story, but that’s when I found out he’d be dating the future Mrs. Diesel. I was pretty annoyed that he hadn’t told me, but he said he wanted to surprise me and didn’t want to jinx it, which is totally in character. I may have botched the story here, since I wasn’t there, but allegedly, they met in a campus bar right as she was staring her first year of law school and he his second. According to her, he circled their table the whole night, trying to work up the nerve to talk to her? (Now do you see why we get along?) I finally met her over Memorial Day of 2004 and thought she was awesome. He was just so much more relaxed around her, so patient. And getting either one of us to relax, at least to a greater than superficial extent, is not the easiest thing in the world. And she was very outgoing towards me, which was awesome. You know they could have been disgustingly “couple-y” to hang out with, but weren’t at all and were thereby branded the model Type 2 couple from an older popular post (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/03/my-iron-lung.html). Completing a virtual sweep for her was that even my mom likes her. And my mom doesn’t like anyone potentially dating 8yearoldsdude or myself (although my living in Chicago helps a lot with her never meeting anyone). She and Diesel came over for dinner and we ordered crabs, which was her first shot at those suckers, and she brought my mom a carrot cake (smart move). But I was like, “Even my mom likes her. You better keep this up.”

They’ve had their ups and downs, like any couple, circumstances of which I will not get into because it’s none of your business and I’m privileged to know in the first place. But they’ve stuck by each other every step of law school and his first year out, no matter how stressful it is and how tough-minded they both can be (allegedly). And it’s never really been in doubt in my mind that this would happen; I just didn’t know when.

I was most assuredly surprised when I got the call last Sunday. I had actually been expecting a call from a woman I was trying to make plans with (seriously, that’s about as much as you’ll ever get from me unless I’m trying to illustrate a larger point) and sprinted across my apartment to grab the phone and was like, “Oh, man! It’s Diesel!” Yeah, I’m an asshole. Not on purpose, but still. But I really did almost cry when I heard the news and gave him his props on the arrangement thereof on Monday. And instantly agreed to be part of the wedding. I really can’t say enough about how happy I am for the guy. I love you, man. You’re an inspiration to us all. Or at least guys who try to be good guys in the face of a general malaise of douchebaggery. Or at least me. You got your Sunny after all.

Carrie on, wayward show

2006-05-10T14:01:00.000-07:00

I figured today that if I’m trying to encourage most posting and more readership, I should not only do a good interactive segment, but I should really tee one up for you guys. Although that’s not actually why I’m doing this. It’s just a good topic.

This comes out of a running discussion I’ve been having for the last week with my friend … hmm, what should we call her? I’m gonna go with “Rawhide” for the time being. It started when she had a signature quote or something from Katherine Hepburn and I said, “That’s awesome. Most women just quote Sex and the City.” Naturally, she happens to love Sex and the City. Now the appreciation of the Katherine Hepburn quote was straightforwardly positive in that she’s got soul. But we have been discussing Sex and the City and my general distaste for it, and given the way I generally am willing to reconsider my own opinions or take outside counsel, I think I will on this one. I don’t happen to like the show, but my like is immaterial here. The issue is whether it’s a “good” show. Enough people really connect with it that it probably has some sort of merit, or are they just sheep being led astray by a dysfunctional overlord that actually sets back women? I think it’s time for Convince Senor Beavis He’s Wrong.

I don’t think Sex and the City is a good show.

Now the reason this might be like shooting fish in a barrel is that I have to confess that I have not watched the show more than a couple episodes. I guess that’s kind of a Catch-22, since I didn’t really want to watch it more than I had because I didn’t like it, but it terms of proving a show’s “worth,” it’s not a very good leg on which to stand. Secondly, in the course of discussion and reflection, managed to undermine some of my previous arguments. But mostly I’m just interested in what you have to say.

I’m turned off by the title. Yes, I’m being petty, but as I’ve said before, I’m no fan of the New York-centric attitude that results in people calling New York City “The City” and getting away with it. As previously mentioned, if you ever want to get under a New Yorker’s skin, when they say that, ask, “You mean Kansas City?” Here in Chicago, we refer to living in “the city,” but that’s not a proper name. It means as opposed to the suburbs, as most residents of any other metropolitan area would do. This isn’t worth spending any more time on.

I can’t stand the narration. This is what’s led me to say it’s a poorly-written show because I hear Carrie’s voiceover and dive for the remote. There’s a fine line in writing between smart and witty and sickening cutesy, or what might be called “overly precious,” which is extremely redundant, I know, but one of the better scathing criticisms in the English language. I know I’ve said that about 1,000 times before. I hope I manage to stay on the good side of that line, but that's kinda up to y'all. I don’t think this phenomenon is unique to Sex and the City, however. I hate the narration on Desperate Housewives and Grey’s Anatomy equally, since it it’s the exact same style. I think it’s bad writing, but I’m holding out about a .01% chance that it’s just a point of stylistic taste.

I don’t particularly like or relate to any of the characters. This once again may just fall into my not liking the show rather than it being a bad show. Admittedly, I am not, have never been (there’s a revelation, huh?), and never will be a woman, so try as I might, there are many many things I simply cannot and will not understand in terms of the female experience. If a vast array of people finds these harpies to be likeable and relatable, I’ll concede this one easily, especially since the occasional show has succeeded with largely unlikable characters. One need not be a paragon of virtue to anchor or even appear on a show. In fact, who’d want to watch that (except as satire – Moral Orel for example)? But given the most valuable lesson I got in Second City Writing Class, which I reference often, to be likeable and relatable, characters need have a successful balance of flaws and humanities. I don’t think the ladies on Sex and the City do, but as I said, if it’s just a guy-girl thing, then say so. Speaking of being a guy, the fact that I’m not attracted to any of them probably doesn’t help. However, a substantial amount of that is because of their personalities, so we’ve hit another Catch-22.

A while back, close to two years ago, I was having a conversation with someone about my admitted late-bloomer status as far as dating goes and I said it made me a bit insecure because I felt like it would be held against me. She asked, “What makes you think women are that petty and judgmental? I replied, “Sex and the City.” Now in the last week, I was sorta debunked this point because I was thinking about how a current or maybe last year or whatever trend in television with the rise of metrosexuals and guys “being allowed” to express their feelings more, was the create a “male Sex and the City.” Trouble is, there already was one. It was “Seinfeld.” At least 2 of my friends, independently of each other since they’ve never met, have made reference to finding the “Seinfeld thing,” aka the bizarre yet tragic flaw than one can’t quite get past, about each guy they meet. And they’re both women. No one’s more judgmental than the characters on that show, yet the world didn’t go to hell during its reign. I think. My point is that the concept was out there before there was ever a Sex and the City, so it probably would have proliferated anyway. But that doesn’t mean I can’t object out of insecurity to Sex and the City’s helping to drive it.

I think Sex and the City sends mixed messages about female independence to its viewers. It says it’s OK to be choosy and to hold out for more and to judge and to fuck around, but it also seems to say a successful woman can’t be truly fulfilled without a man. It’s sort of a tricky topic, since I don’t want to grow old alone either, but at the same time, the search for a significant other shouldn’t necessarily consume us. I think more dangerous than Sex and the City, actually, is what it’s spawned, which is the explosion of “chick lit” during the show’s glory days. Suddenly, everyone wanted to write their own version, and if you want a sure way to appreciate the writing on that show, try picking up some of these books. But it’s kinda dangerous to have a whole genre of writing telling people that poor Estelle was the most high-powered lawyer in San Francisco, and had the best friends in the whole world, but she cried herself to sleep every night because she hadn’t met Mr. Right and she wouldn’t give up until she found him. I’m sure I’m walking into a trap here, but the “mixed message feminism” can also be tough on guys because you’re up against stuff like, “Well, I’m rich and smart and can have any guy I want, but if you don’t buy me dinner and hold the door for me, you can beat it.” If anyone, male or female, wants to eat the entire cake, they’ll probably wind up by themselves, which perpetuates the cycle of book sales.

Perhaps the greatest mixed message was the one sent by the main character, Carrie, when she finished the show getting together with Mr. Big. This is going to be flimsy because I haven’t seen it, but from what I hear, he had a history of kinda treating her like crap. It’s been a side issue lately as to what kind of getting treated like crap one can put up with or what someone can take someone back from and what you can’t. But if his history (I’ve seen any of his episodes, though he does get credit for being on Law and Order), is accurate, it either implicitly or explicitly says that what women strive for is to be treated like crap. Which while it supports some of my more cynical theories quite well, does not make me happy in the least to hear. From what I’ve heard about the show, I think it would have sent a much better message if Carrie had ended the show by herself, but happy in her life with her friends and her job. I think that would have been truer to what those who have defended the show have tried convincing me the most positive element of the show is, which is the friendship between the four women.

This is all my very uninformed opinion, so it should be an easy one to work with. It’s also very possible that I’m being a paternalistic asshole about what women “should want.” And of course I really have no idea, since I’ve never been one and never will be. So considering how wildly popular the show was and still is, and the amount of lives it’s touched and the amount of women (and men) it’s resonated with, I’d love to hear why I’m wrong.

Heavens, Miss Sakamoto! You're beautiful!

2006-05-08T13:26:00.000-07:00

Everybody sees me. But it's not that easy. Standing in the lightfield. Standing in the lightfield. Waiting for some action. Waiting for some action. Why wont you come over here? WHY WON'T YOU COME OVER HEEEEEERRRRRE? We've got a city to love. Time for Musings!

- Before anything else, my best friend, Diesel, got engaged over the weekend. I'll get more into how important this is to me, given the nature of our friendship, in another post. But Friday, he picked up his now-fiancee from her last exam of her law school career in a limo, took her out to some pretty picnic spot in Williamsburg, VA, and hid the ring box in the cooler with the picnic food. Well played, sir. You certainly earned the nickname "Big Daddy Cool" on that one. I'll be exceedingly proud to be part of the wedding next October.
- In other wedding news, we're under 2 months until JoshuaTrees officially makes it official July 1 in NH. This is the first wedding I'm going to be in, which means that hopefully the ceremony will not contain a full performance of King Lear and hopefully no one's Catholic. It also means I should give myself an attitude adjustment or starve myself for 2 months because there will be cameras present. Maybe something traumatic will happen to me. Whenever I'm full of anxiety, my appetite always goes first. I should try the First Make Senor Beavis Really Depressed Invitational.
- I try not to ask for too much too often, but if I have my timeline correct, 8yearoldsdude is leaving his computer access in about a week, so I'm gonna need some help. Tell your friends, unless they have no sense of humor or lack names.
- So I'm checking out the list of names of people who can still call Meredith a whore. Oh, good. I'm still on it.
- I'm getting worried about myself because I actually didn't hate Meredith last night. As much as I generally can't stand her, and as much as I enjoyed Dr. Shepherd going off on her, he was pretty much squarely in the wrong. It is pretty interesting, and I think pretty realistic, though, for him to not really care that much about her entire string of one-night stands and George, but get super jealous about Chris O'Donnell the scruffy vet, since he probably sees him as an actual threat rather than a succession of guys who "weren't good enough for her." If Choi saved the text, there might actually be confirmation that I thought the end between Meredith and Scruffy Vet Chris O'Donnell was cute. I don't know if I really buy Dr. Torres' thing at the end. She certainly has a point about being intimidated by Meredith and Izzie and always feeling judged, because she is. But at the same time, she could have been like, "Oh, holy crap! There's people in the bathroom. I'm going downstairs." Yes, George does need to stand up for her if he actually wants to, but she also needs to A) stand up for herself, and/or B) not just going around doing stupid shit and then asking George to protect her. Yay for John Cho (best known as Harold) just in general! Burke, get the fuck over it! That was just weird and seems like a huge contrivance to break them up. Like whoever was writing Dr. Burke last season decided to stop by for an episode. He's put up with so much of her being a bitch to him, and chooses to flip out over an honest mistake? That's not a challenge to his manhood, unless now he's just looking for an excuse like she used to every week. Oh, and lest we forget, Denny is a strong, virile man.
- I know I'm always trying to convert people to watch Veronica Mars, but I have 2 more reasons this week. The first one is old, but I've noticed the majority of people I've been most likely to get to rent or borrow season 1 are Buffy the Vampire Slayer fans. I've only seen that show like once or twice, and Veronica Mars doesn't have any vampires on it (thank god), but Joss Whedon has said in many an interview that it's the best show currently on TV, and he asked Rob Thomas (Veronica Mars creator, still not the singer) to let him be on an episode, which he did. Secondly, I've mentioned the show's love of The Big Lebowski, but this week, they dropped a Waiting For Guffman reference. Wallace, Veronica's best friend, suddenly got mushy and said he'd miss her if she went to Stanford, and Veronica said, "And my stupid ass-face?" It was officially awesome.
- Speaking of vampires, I wonder if I'm secretly a melodic goth considering that in addition to my continued enjoyment of My Chemical Romance, I'm really liking AFI's new radio song, "Miss Murder," that came out about a week ago. Hmm, trying to picture myself dressed up like that. It's kinda funny. Maybe on Halloween. In less-goth-y good music, the two best songs on the radio now are the aforementioned, but criminally underplayed "If You Talk Too Much My Head Will Explode" by People in Planes (which I'll occasionally sing as "If you talk too much my head will a'splode," like the Strong Bad video game email) and "Cosmopolitan" by Nine Black Alps.
- Speaking of old-timey-er former TV crushes (and whoops, might I add), Tom Cruise has decided Katie Holmes should change her name to "Kate," now that she's a grown women with a baby. In the immortal words of Roseanne Barr, "Find out who wins. Like you give a rat's [BEEEEEEP!]" (See, I gotta use stuff like that as much as I can before 8yearoldsdude goes back to Alaska.)
- Speaking of Tom Cruise, well, one of his many publicists got him on BET's 106 and Park, which is pretty much enough to end this item right there. But no. http://www.thesuperficial.com/archives/2006/05/05/tom_cruise_is_a_dancing_maniac.html. There is nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- Speaking of "pretty pretty dancing" (TM Snickers commercial with the panda guy), well, I think every Notre Dame fan should have to watch this as part of a focus group. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/college-football/drink-like-a-champion-today-171024.php. Please stick it out until the poetry slam. That's the best, and by "best," I mean "cringe-inducingly hilariously scary," part. Then get back in your puffy little pants, and walk away. (TM David Spade). I know it's slightly hypocritical, as in if your school is without sin then you can cast the first stone. And I know I've seen some equally moronic shit that made me ashamed to go to Georgetown. But at least our idiots were smart enough not to get on tape. I think.
- And as sacrilegious as it may sound to say it, considering I got the occasional item on there, was it worth it for Will Leitch to shut down The Black Table in favor of Deadspin? Hell fucking yeah!
- Speaking of Deadspin, I posted a story a couple weeks ago about Chris Berman allegedly picking up a chick with the line, "You're with me, leather," and the subsequent cult status of that line. Well, also allegedly, a 15-year-old "autograph seeker," asked Berman about it at the NFL Draft and appears to have touched a nerve. Holy crap, that's takes balls! http://www.deadspin.com/sports/espn/for-the-record-we-dont-advise-this-170954.php.
- Speaking of the Sharks (that's the Sharks' mascot, S.J. Sharkie, in the picture with Berman), they won the first game of their conference semifinal series against Edmonton last night. No points for Marcel Goc or Jonathan Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer, but the point is that the team won. Hey, 8yearoldsdude, do Winnipeg residents root strongly for teams like Edmonton and Calgary now, or do they just root for the ghost of the Jets?
- Speaking of Bend It sports heroes, time for the Bend It Official Major League Baseball Player Dan Uggla Watch! It's good to feel loved. Dan Uggla clearly enjoyed the honor bestowed upon him because he celebrated his first week as our official baseball player by hitting .344. He's now up to .278 with 4 homers and 14 RBIs on the season. Not to mention, the coronation of a Florida Marlins' player has allowed me to resurrect "The Marlin Nose."
- Nice to see the Washington Nationals (nee Montreal Expos) finally get an owner. Now as they move towards getting nickel-and-dimed by the city and inevitably building a shitty stadium, at least they might actually be able to consider infrastructure. Mostly, it just gives me an excuse to plug my favorite baseball site, Capital Punishment. (www.dcbb.blogspot.com).
- While I'm not sure exactly whether it's completely real or not, I admit to having become somewhat obsessed with Tyson the Skateboarding Bulldog. (www.skateboardingbulldog.com). Although I think it's just more with the proliferation of bulldog pictures than with the actual skateboarding itself. Also, here are some pictures a friend sent of a basset hound eating a sandwich. (http://mfrost.typepad.com/cute_overload/2006/04/sandwich_steale.html). Sigh. Brings back memories.
- How much do I hate that Pepsi commercial with Jimmy Fallon dancing on cars? Every time I see it, I'm like, "He left his cushy SNL gig with Tina Fey for THAT?" Toss-up: Jimmy Fallon leaving SNL for that commercial or Chris Kattan leaving SNL for ... well, whatever he's doing, not making people laugh somewhere else?
- Speaking of bad, toss-up: What would you rather see less -- Mission Impossible 3 or The Da Vinci Code?
- So I'm seeing The Da Vinci Code movie advertised on freaking L trains now. Great, an entire subway car covered in mulleted Tom Hanks. In addition to the mullet, we've got the book, which was probably written in the Black Forest, it's so ham-fisted (I know I used that on Friday). Combine that with direction by Ron Howard who never met a Hollywo0d-ization he didn't want to make out with and seriously, what the odds this won't be one of the worst movies ever? Well, I guess at least Vin Diesel and Jennifer Lopez aren't in it.
- So a couple weeks ago, I ran an interactive post about "subtle fuck you's" out in the world. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/04/were-only-gonna-die-from-our-own.html). I'd rather let Marisol tell the story herself, since I don't have the proper indignation as a non-principal, but I would suggest in advance, Marisol, that you not order an extra shot.
- So yesterday I was out on a walk, and by the dog park I saw this kinda goofy looking guy in an old-school White Sox hat with a big beer belly holding hands with one of the hottest women I've ever seen (in spite of her wearing gauchos). Diesel and I were talking about this yesterday and he said some people hate guys like that but you shouldn't because it gives hope to guys like us. He was exactly right. It actually put a big smile on my face. I was a bizarre confidence boost when I wasn't expecting one. I was like, "I CAN."
- Speaking of the gauchos, time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner! I can't re-review them, since I already did back in the fall, but I can muse given a winter off from them. Yesterday, on a 70-degree cloudless day in Chicago, I saw the gauchos out in full force. And yeah, they're still silly-looking. Really silly-looking. But really just the bottoms. The material that the usual, or at least the kind I'd prefer to look at, pair of gaucho pants is made of is usually incredible soft and comfortable-looking and manages to accentuate the old booty very well. If I could keep from looking at the above the ankle bell-bottom, it was kinda working for me. So I declare they should make more regular-length pants out of that jonx. Or invent a kind of blinders that can prevent one from looking far enough down as to notice the ridiculous part of the pants. Maybe they could package the blinders in the store with the pants. "Here you go, there, chica. He's one pair of gaucho pants and 20 pairs of blinders to hand out to the guys you want looking at you."
- And finally, on one of my walks yesterday, I stopped into Borders and as I was leaving, passed a book of musings on life by ... ok, this needs a drumroll ... Teri Freaking Hatcher! See, I'm not making this up:(http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1401302629/qid=1147111565/sr=2-1/ref=pd_bbs_b_2_1/104-4273433-0312736?s=books&v=glance&n=283155) What the freaking heck is that? OK, here's a sample passage from noted author Teri Hatcher's book: "They used to be real and spectacular. Now I don't know where they went because I'm a cartoon-clown-faced stick figure. I played Lois Lane. People thought I was hot so I disappeared for a while. I made out with Ryan Seacrest, so I covered up the bad publicity by giving an interview about childhood abuse. The other Desperate Housewives hate me because I hate them because they can kinda act. Except for Eva Longoria. Her I hate because she's an overrated publicity whore. Somehow I got an Emmy nomination for waving my hands and being shrill. Also, I fall down and go boom. But not like, 'Boom goes the dynamite!' (http://caffeine.worldmagblog.com/caffeine/archives/013907.html). The end."

Meet James Ensor, Belgium's famous painter! Dig him up and shake his hand. Appreciate the man.

This OCk is on fire with passionate love

2006-05-05T13:34:00.000-07:00

Son, we know you OCk. And we’re OK with that. Just … don’t use our name!

In addition to probably one of the five greatest Beavis and Butthead lines ever, this episode was once again sponsored by our friend Choo Choo The Herky-Jerky Dancer. (http://entertainment4every1.ytmnd.com/.) It was all over the fucking place and missing quite a bit of detail, the kinds of details that explain things and make good shows good. And if there’s a Do You Smell What The OCk is Cookin’?! drinking game, you’d probably drink every time I say that. Time for Do You Smell What The OCk is Cookin’?!

OK, so The Anorexic 5000 is sitting on her bed contemplating the idiocy that brought her to this very moment when she’s woken by a phone call for Small Wonder. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-hope-you-have-big-trunk-because-im.html). Glad I didn’t give her the serenade. Small Wonder wants The Anorexic 5000 to intercept a letter to Hot Gobette for a disciplinary hearing at Small Wonder Boarding School in Santa Barbara. The Anorexic 5000 swipes the letter much better than Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 will do later and makes off for Santa Barbara since she really has nothing better to do and admits as much. When she knocks on Small Wonder’s door, we are greeted by this heavily made-up 12-year-old who looks like Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 (on purpose, we’re sure, for Saved By The OCk: The New Class) who greets everyone with “Hey, bitch!” In honor of Little Russell Crowe’s car, I think for now her name is Little Bitch. And I hope Peter Gallagher gets a chance to say it again. Still the best moment of the whole season. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/11/picture-this-we-were-both-ock-naked_30.html) Little Bitch’s other favorite word is “obvi,” which is short for “obviously.” And it’s even more painful hearing it than just reading it. I hope she’s beaten to death with her own shoes. It also comes up in conversation that she is allegedly “horny all the time.” And it’s official. I’m never having kids. Anyway, Small Wonder wound up in a pickle because some hotshot senior lacrosse player invited her to a “lipstick party” and she turned him down. I don’t happen to know what that is, but I’m really never having kids. Or watching “Kids.” As revenge for his rejection, this lacrosse player, whom I’m going to call Ryan McFadyen, since he’s not one of the ones on trial and it’s confirmed what he did so it’s not slander, stole … we don’t really know, like a school crest, whatever that is, out of the dean or headmaster or whoever it is' office and told the school that Small Wonder did it and he got it back from her. Say what? Small Wonder said all this and it simply didn’t register. Fortunately, it’s immaterial. Small Wonder says she’s screwed if it’s his word against hers because he’s king of the school. Wow, Limp Bizkit was right. It really is all about the he says, she says bullshit. They then cut to him at a table surrounded by slutty chicks that Small Wonder and Little Bitch label “lacrossetitutes.” Well, that term is about 10-years-old, but still funny. However, considering Little Bitch cops to being “horny all the time,” pot, kettle, Monica. The Anorexic 5000 has a plan. Surprisingly it does not involve stupidly trying to mold him into her boyfriend and then crying about it. She borrows Small Wonder’s school skirt, hikes it way the fuck up, puts her hair in pigtails (which isn’t hot, says me) and walks up to Ryan McFadyen, who looks a bit like that guy Mike or Miz who’s on every Real World shit, and says in an awful British accent that she’s “Marissa the new exchange student.” Correct me if I’m wrong, but Marissa isn’t a very British name. So much for artificial intelligence. Ryan McFadyen’s like, “I studied in England and you’re not British.” So The Anorexic 5000’s like, “Fine, so I’m the stripper your friends bought me for your birthday.” Ryan McFadyen’s like, “My birthday’s not for 6 months.” The Anorexic 5000’s like, “So, do you want me to take my clothes off or not?” NO! Also, Ryan McFadyen is an idiot. Shouldn’t he be suspicious of people allegedly buying him a stripper for no reason? Seriously, in his situation, I’d run because it’s probably a scam. Anyone see the hooker steal files from Cliff on Veronica Mars? Anyway, The Anorexic 5000 takes Ryan McFadyen into … the wood shop? And tells him to take off his pants because that’s how they do it in Vegas. OK, I actually have it on pretty good authority that’s not true, although my good authority’s never been to the Champagne Room. For a straight-A student, Ryan McFadyen’s pretty fucking stupid because he does and then lets her tie him to a chair, which is also allegedly how they do it in Vegas. So he spotted the fake accent, but not this bullshit? Don’t worry. It gets less believable. So The Anorexic 5000 says she’s going to change, and this time Ryan McFadyen actually objects because she’s wearing her costume, but she leaves him tied to a chair while she and Small Wonder ransack his room for the … well, who really cares what it was. Let’s hope they don’t read his emails. Anyway, I guess they find whatever it is because the next time we see them, they’re having a bonding talk about how this was fun and how they’ll miss each other. OK, seriously, don’t care. Because if Ryan McFadyen told the administration he stopped her from stealing it, WOULDN’T HE HAVE GIVEN IT BACK TO THEM?! This is about as poorly conceived as any one-episode storyline I’ve seen. They should have just saved the minutes and helped explain some of the other stuff better.

So Little Russell Crowe has beaten Iceman unconscious. Picking up right from that moment, he drives Iceman in the Iceman Van to the hospital and drops him off. Despite having blood all over his hands, no one bats an eyelash. Iceman wakes up and says, “Meet me tomorrow at the Iceman Warehouse. This ain’t over.” Dammit! I was really hoping it finally was over. Like 12 episodes ago. Well, maybe we’ll finally see that scene from the previews where Iceman’s 15-year-old posse beats the hell out of LRC. LRC then gives the stolen $500 back to The Anorexic 5000 and tells her to give it to Tracy Flick. Speaking of Tracy Flick, Baby Mama, who was abandoned at THE prom, says that after Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 left with D-Nozz, Tracy Flick, Somebody Yell Sung Ho and Big Flock of Korean Seagulls discussed a threesome. First of all, the fact that that’s less disgusting than Little Bitch being “horny all the time,” well, I don’t know what that means. Second of all, two cousins had sex with each other. OK, I take it back. That is worse. Don’t tell me they never crossed swords. We saw Big Flock of Korean Seagulls react to getting kissed by 14. So when LRC visits the Iceman Warehouse, Iceman says LRC has to be the driver and run lookout for “an errand” he’s running. LRC says no, but Iceman says if he doesn’t, he’ll file assault charges and fuck up his future. Yeah, suck on that! So reluctantly, LRC agrees. He then goes off to have Chinese food with Baby Mama, who takes one look at his hands and realizes those bruises are from fighting and she’s not OK with that. She says that she’ll always love him, but she can’t be with someone who still solves his problems, or in this case, other people’s problems, with violence. OK, wait a minute! Since when was she his girlfriend? Anyone else miss this? I have read that maybe she was gearing up to tell him the baby was his after all, but doesn’t want a violent father. But I don’t feel like rationalizing and we don’t see her again anyway. Then LRC gets a call from Iceman to come run their deal. Wait, how does Iceman have his number? LRC shows up and Iceman says they need LRC’s car because it’s in his neighborhood and they don’t want to look suspicious; that’s why he’s the lookout. Except that Iceman looks suspicious anywhere. So they’re sitting in the LRC-mobile when they encounter a friend of Carrie Wood’s who recognizes LRC and tells him to bring Iceman to the scheduled awards banquet that we’ll get to later because Iceman’s hot. No, and that was creepy. Finally, Iceman springs into action as LRC spots a cop car cruising the neighborhood. Iceman opens a garage and sets his sights on what appears to be a Mercedes SL convertible that Iceman says costs $120,000. Iceman bashes in the window and tries to disconnect the alarm, which has now alerted the cop one block away. Iceman yells for LRC to get in, saying, “Don’t be a little bitch!” Well, Iceman, we already have a Little Bitch. Which is why Little Russell Crowe doesn’t get in. Iceman guns it and is immediately followed by the cop. LRC meanwhile runs through the woods, and … there’s woods in The OCk? I thought like Greg Proops said, “Every square mile is paved.” He then calls The Anorexic 5000 and tells her to meet him at her place, aka The Carver Palace. Conveniently, it appears to be on the other side of The Woods. He then asks her to alibi him for the evening. OK, seriously, is Iceman’s 15-year-old posse ever going to beat the hell out of LRC? Will it happen in the finale, which doesn’t quite fit with graduation, or did they just drop that scene entirely like how they cut the scene from the trailer where Madonna was wearing a sheer mesh top out of Dick Tracy. (Don’t ask. It was a long time ago.)

I apologize in advance for not separating D-Nozz from Peter Gallagher and Carrie Wood, but their plots are too intertwined. Peter Gallagher is informed that he’s won some magazine’s award for OCk Man of the Year for his plan for the hospital? Say what? Also, didn’t Hot Gobette, Carrie Wood, and Pinocchio start an OCk magazine last season? No wonder it folded, since there already was one. Anyway, Peter Gallagher is psyched, which makes Carrie Wood even more depressed about the state of her marriage because she thinks Peter Gallagher is completely oblivious. Until Hot Gobette tells her Peter Gallagher knows he’s under investigation for his dealings with Mr. Green and has hid it from her. So Carrie Wood responds by reaching under the sink for a bottle of vodka. Sweet Jesus, they really must never clean their sink! She pours a bunch in a coffee mug and passes out on her bed.

Meanwhile, Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 comes over to try to get back the napkin containing D-Nozz’s confessed lies that she left for Peter Gallagher. She can’t find it on his desk, but D-Nozz finds her and she says she’s looking for stamps. D-Nozz says she doesn’t have any letters, so she distracts him by saying they should make out. Yuck! In mid-make out, 14 keeps asking D-Nozz about Peter Gallagher’s schedule, which while cheap, is kinda funny. 14’s about to tell him about the napkin, but instead says she wants to be on top and D-Nozz says that she’s always on top. Don’t complain, D-Nozz. Also, yuck! Later, Peter Gallagher comes home and 14 sees him take a bunch of files with the letter stuck to them out of his briefcase and put them back on the desk. Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 tries to grab it out from under his nose, but Peter Gallagher catches her and picks up the envelope. 14 says it’s a card for D-Nozz in honor of getting back together. However, it’s addressed to Peter Gallagher, who opens it and starts reading it. 14 tries to explain that she was giving it to them when she thought D-Nozz wanted to go to Brown to be with Paris Hilton, but now that she found out D-Nozz didn’t get in … and 14 underestimated the breadth of D-Nozz’s lie because Peter Gallagher now FINALLY finds out that D-Nozz didn’t get in. Dun, dun, DUNNNNNNNNN!!!!!

While 14 is playing patty-envelope with Peter Gallagher, D-Nozz goes to talk to Carrie Wood and discovers her passed out. D-Nozz sniffs the coffee mug, looks miserable, then washes out the mug and tucks her in. He then shoos 14 out of the house. I actually feel really bad for D-Nozz because having to find out your alcoholic parent has relapsed in that way totally sucks and he actually has a right to look devastated. I was going to say he’s a much better person than I am because D-Nozz doesn’t get mad at Carrie Wood like I probably would have. Then again, maybe it’s different with a mom. I don’t know. But D-Nozz will get angry and act out, just in a different direction. Anyway, when Carrie Wood wakes up, she announces she’s going to her AA meeting. I don’t know how long she’s been out, but that’s probably still drunk driving. D-Nozz follows her to the meeting and hears her stand up and talk about how she’s relapsed and how she really needs Peter Gallagher’s support, but he’s absent, and while she can only blame herself for the relapse, she really needs Peter Gallagher. D-Nozz, who’s crushed by Carrie Wood’s relapse, decides to blame Peter Gallagher for it. So when Peter Gallagher gets home from his visit with the DA to discuss the ramifications of turning state on Mr. Green (allegedly, the hospital deal collapses if he turns over the evidence), D-Nozz confronts him. Peter Gallagher confronts him back. Peter Gallagher says he knows that D-Nozz got blunted in his house. D-Nozz says he was going to do it anyway in college. Peter Gallagher says, “That would actually require you to get into college.” BURN!!!!!!!!! (Whoops, I’m getting ahead of myself). D-Nozz counters by saying that Carrie Wood has relapsed, but Peter Gallagher is too oblivious to have noticed. SMACK! Well, to Carrie Wood’s credit, she was hiding it. Just not very well. Did she tell everyone that The Boogeyman lives under their sink? Anyway, Peter Gallagher says to respect him because he’s D-Nozz’s father and D-Nozz basically tells him to earn his respect. I give D-Nozz a lot of shit, but that’s a fair statement. Or at least that was usually my counter to when my dad pulled the “I’m your father card” on me.

Peter Gallagher finally talks to Carrie Wood about her drinking and is understand and says he’s not judging. While it’s debatable whether Carrie Wood did try to tell him she was struggling, Peter Gallagher does take it to heart. Carrie Wood apologizes for hiding it from him and Peter Gallagher apologizes for not telling her about the investigation and generally being absent. So they appear to be semi-resolved. However, Carrie Wood makes the colossal mistake of telling the one person who’s still pissed-off, D-Nozz, that she needs him to go pick up some presentation materials for the hospital for Peter Gallagher’s OCk Man Of the Year banquet. There’s a great idea. Ask a pissed-off and irrational teenager to help out the guy he just got in a blowout with? IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite) D-Nozz does agree to go to the banquet and get the jonx because Carrie Wood says to do it for her. Aww, but still stupid. D-Nozz, decides as an act of defiance that he will smoke something in Peter Gallagher’s office? Huh? Now, I was getting a frozen pizza out of the oven at this point, so I only saw it out of the corner of my eye. It looked much larger than a joint. Did he roll a blunt? Was it one of Peter Gallagher’s cigars? If so, how did he know to cut the cigar and with what? Anyway, whatever it was, dumbass D-Nozz leaves lit on the table when he grabs the painting. Naturally, it falls in the trashcan and starts The OCk Fire just like Mrs. O’Leary’s D-Nozz. They have a long, lingering shot of the model of the hospital burning. Yeah, I think they imported that scene straight from the Black Forest because it’s that ham-fisted. D-Nozz, only you can prevent The Old Dude (Not Howie J. Reynolds) Real Estate Company fires. Didn’t he at least watch Jim Carrey as Fire Marshal Bill on In Living Color?

So D-Nozz gets to the banquet just as Peter Gallagher is making his speech. Peter Gallagher says that he can’t accept the OCk Man of the Year Award because he doesn’t deserve it. That the hospital has taken him off his course and lost him the respect of his family. So even though it means tanking the hospital deal, he’s going to hand over the evidence to the DA and concentrate on his family. I don’t think he has any choice but to concentrate on his family because his business just burned down, but he doesn’t know that, so, awww. He then hands off the evidence against Mr. Green to the DA. Good thing someone invited him. He is then congratulated by Carrie Wood and D-Nozz. And the cops. Well, the cops don’t show up to congratulate him. LRC, who has just shown up, thinks they’re there for him, but no, they’re there for D-Nozz. And thanks to the geniuses at Fox doing the previews, we already knew that, so they spoiled a perfectly good reveal. Anyone care to explain exactly how the cops know D-Nozz started the fire? Maybe there was a security camera, but wouldn’t that have picked up his not doing it on purpose? In addition, how did the cops know exactly where D-Nozz would be like 2 minutes after the fire? Maybe Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 is secretly an informant. That would be awesome. Hey, all this logic is spoiling a perfectly good time to celebrate. D-Nozz is going to jail!!!!!! I wonder if he prefers jelly or syrup. This should have happened earlier, since it might have helped him get into Brown, because at the very least, he’s GONNA LEARN TO READ!!!

In two weeks: Season finale. Graduation. Zzzzzzzz. I hate graduation episodes. Waste of time. Graduations are boring when you’re in them. Well, they better have Dr. Kim in it. These students aren’t going to graduate themselves! And who else will they give bikinis and sunglasses and fifths of whiskey to? (Sorry, that was for 8yearoldsdude). Then they say someone MIGHT not make it out alive. Great. You know how I feel about “might.” They also might not not make it out alive. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/02/and-pierre-said-i-dont-care.html) Fucking wishy-washy bullshit. Well, at least it’ll be better than the series finale of That ‘70s Show that’s preempting it next week. No, I didn’t know that without Topher Grace and Ashton Kutcher it was still on either.

Wiggles, I swear ...

2006-05-03T13:50:00.000-07:00

Because an “I wish I knew how to quit you” joke is cliché at this point. For the record, and I did have to look it up on IMDB, the last line of the movie is, ‘Jack, I swear …” But you’d never know from hearing it.

So last Monday, I mentioned that The Wiggles (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/06/smoochy-is-root-of-all-evil.html) had multiple songs about “boot scooting.” I’m sure y’all were hoping that was the end of this topic. But I mentioned this to my boss last week, for no other reason that I thought it was funny, and when I said I had no idea what “boot scooting” is, she said it’s a kind of hillbilly line dance that would get one shot (and by shot, I mean made fun of) in the actual west that involves never picking ones feet off the floor. And then I received a mini-demonstration. I said it sounded like a good way to hurt oneself. Then 8yearoldsdude witnessed a demonstration en masse over the weekend and said “it is simply the electric slide done while holding one's belt-buckle. Swear to god.”

So what’s the impetus for The Wiggles to have multiple songs about “boot scooting?” Unfortunately, I can’t find the release date for their album, “Cold Spaghetti Western,” which contained these songs (the Amazon release dates are all fucked because they were all released in Australia first and then kind of en masse here in the States), but I’m guessing it was probably in the wake of the “Country as big business” breakout in the … when is that again? We’re kinda out of my element here. Anyway, however painful, considering it’s already The Wiggles, and they sound out of their element, it does seem to be the MO for popular children’s performers to co-opt whatever musical trend is popular at the time, and has been for quite a while. Growing up in the ‘80s, I think anyone who’s had the considerable misfortune of being exposed to the “Rosenshontz Rap,” would have to sign off on this. So it’s no mystery why they did it; it’s just the narrow and awkward way they did it. And that’s comedy, folks. So I’m gonna have to say it’s time for Thoughtful Analysis of Wiggles Lyrics!

“We’re the Cowboys”

We’re the cowboys.
(We’re the cowboys.)
We like to sing all day.
We wear cowboy hats.
We like to boot scoot all day.

OK, I was going to say that they might have to make a choice as to what they actually like to do all day. But as far as I know, singing and “boot scooting” are not mutually exclusive activities. However, I will say that I believe they are sincerely underestimating the qualifications necessary to be a cowboy. (I happened to already have this on the brain from watching “Brokeback Mountain,” as to what makes one a “cowboy” and what doesn’t, independently of it being a minor theme in the movie.) I’d say that Grant Hill is probably more of a cowboy (TM the best Sprite commercial EVER) than The Wiggles. With all the “boot scooting” done all day, I think there are probably some extremely neglected horses or cows or both. Unless they can sing and “boot scoot” as well. It’s like Randy Quaid’s character said in “Brokeback,” “Twist, you guys wasn't gettin' paid to leave the dogs babysittin' the sheep while you stem the rose.” Or in this case, scoot the boot.

OK, before we get to the next one, I’m incapable of passing up a photo of The Wiggles with Shaquille O’Neal. (http://www.thewiggles.com.au/MEDIA/usa/shaquilleonealandwiggles.html). I wonder if Shaq’s kids are fans?

“Cowboys and Cowgirls”

Cowboys and cowgirls.
(Come on everybody).
Cowdogs and cowbells.
(Even the cowdogs).
Cowbelts and cowboots.
And now we’ll all boot scoot.

OK, first of all, “cowdogs” get mentioned twice? Now I love dogs as much as anyone, but that seems a bit excessive. But yeah, a second song about “boot scooting.” That’s what’s so bizarre about this. Have the Wiggles only heard of one line dance? Admittedly, I’ve only heard of two, not counting the Electric Slide, but if I were getting paid for this, I’d probably do my homework. I don’t know how much line dancing goes on in Australia. I do know cowboys are called “jackaroos” instead. But couldn’t they at least do the Achy Breaky. Or the … well, anyone know anything else? It’s either a really creepy obsession with “boot scooting,” or outstanding lazy writing. Either way, it’s freaking hilarious. Oh, and of course, having heard the song, it’s really unfair to mention cowbells and not have any in the song. I gotta have more cowbell! (TM Christopher Walken).

And if you don't want to, I can live with that, but you gotta put back the double-knit reversible slacks

2006-05-01T13:13:00.000-07:00

It's gonna be a long time before I finish. One of the many missions that I have to establish. To light my [jonx], ignite ya with these sights. And if you ain't down: BULLSHIT! Time for Musings!

- I'd like to wish a Happy May Day to everyone out there. If you don't have a may pole to dance around, I highly suggest going down to your local strip club. I think they'll be more than happy to accommodate you.
- That ... hmm, what did Marisol call it ... "vapid and insipid" (good one, Marisol) Daniel Powter song, "Bad Day" is totally the "Don't Worry, Be Happy" of this next generation. Toss up: Which is more irritating?
- When I was 8 years old, I thought "The Super Bowl Shuffle" was the coolest thing ever. Whoops. While good ammo against stuck in 1985 Bears fans (which is about 92% of them), it kinda makes me want to leap off a tall building. On top of being horrendously painful, it apparently spawned a trend of which I was unaware, of '80s teams making their own videos. And for that it deserves additional disdain. Witness the Calgary Flames (I couldn't make it through the whole thing): http://www.deadspin.com/sports/nhl/you-cant-touch-a-flame-when-its-red-hot-169484.php. Or here's Choi's favorite, the Steve Kerr-Sean Elliott-Tom Tolbert-Kenny Lofton Arizona Wildcats: http://www.deadspin.com/sports/college-basketball/its-all-about-the-cats-169430.php. I'd love to say this trend died out; well it kinda has a bit since it's only individuals like Brent Petway or Terrell Owens. Or the team can stay out of it and hire equally inept "professionals" to do it for them. Yeah, I'm really just looking for an excuse to play the 2006 Mets song: http://www.deadspin.com/sports/baseball/the-true-mets-highlight-video-168797.php. What is it about sports that brings out the worst in musicians? Has there ever been a "good" sports song? I unfortunately don't have a clip of what the Knicks did to Mos Def, but he might lose an MC battle to Ja Rule with his Knicks song. OK, I need to change topics before I come up screaming.
- Huge congratulations to Marcel Goc, Jonathan Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer, and the rest of the Sane Jose Sharks for winning their first round playoff series against Nashville in 5 games. Proving he's a money player, Marcel had 2 assists and in those 5 games, ahead of his season points-per-game average, and was a +2. Cheechoo had 2 goals and 2 assists. Next up? We don't know yet.
- After a month-long audition process, I believe we've found out Official Bend It Major League Baseball Player, one who possesses the same qualities as Marcel Goc in baseball form. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Florida Marlins rookie second baseman Dan Uggla! 26 years old from Louisville, KY, Dan is currently batting .253 with 4 doubles, 3 home runs, 10 RBIs, and 2 stolen bases. Obviously, this is a huge mantle to carry, but I believe in him and will hopefully encourage him with the perfect cheer. U-G-G-L-A, you ain't got no alibi, you're UGGLA!
- Props to JoshuaTrees, Springydog, and 8yearoldsdude for helping me out with my lack of belief in the existence of postmodernism. I can't say I will wholeheartedly embrace the concept and still believe it to be an awkward catch-all, which JoshuaTrees essentially said, unless I missed his point, but I will at least admit its existence. I will try to brainstorm another topic about which to convince me I'm wrong. I like this idea, especially since Ask the Tourists is still on hiatus until we can find more active Tourists.
- Finally a new episode of Grey's, even if nothing really happened besides Addison and Alex's plotline. I would have much more appreciated Chris O'Donnell telling Meredith to shut up if he hadn't been flirting since she'd said at the beginning of the episode that when she's rambling, someone should tell her to shut up. One day maybe we'll have an unsolicited telling of her to shut up. I honestly don't give a fuck what happens in Meredith's inexplicably active love life as long as her and Dr. Shepherd aren't together, because she's less insufferable without him. As I said to Choi, the moral of last night's episode was that Jesus and Izzie suck. (Choi added as a Desperate Housewives reference that Jesus never punts.) Without Jesus, Addison has no malpractice suit. He's always trying to fuck us up, the dick-licker. (TM Mr. Show) Here remains my main question about Izzie and Denny because this is important. Is it intentionally written as Izzie being smitten for no reason with a skanky guy who can't speak without hitting on her or is there actually supposed to be something there, but the storyline was written so poorly that they've neglected to actually show us whatever connection is there. Because if the latter is true, I'll ease off on Izzie a bit. Not much, but a bit. Oh I'll still invite Choi and whoever else wants to come for a Denny's Dead party when it actually happens, but a bit. OK, so I was just talking out of my ass, but that's a damn good idea for a party.
- Speaking of creepy, according to Rolling Stone, the massively overrated Flaming Lips wrote a song on their new album, "Free Radicals" (the song, not the name of the album) about Beck being a scary Scientology freak. In the spirit of the kettle and Monica, this begs this Toss Up: Scarier -- Scientologists or Plushies?
- Speaking of Rolling Stone, I also read recently that Keifer Sutherland heard about a 24 drinking game in which one of the rules was to drink every time someone says "Damn it!" which is the admitted euphemism for real swearing on the show. So he said he started ad-libbing extra "damn it!"s in the next episode he shot. That is officially awesome.
- All's reasonably quiet on the Duke Lacrosse case right now, paving the way for more Slate articles about nothing (like Seinfeld except not funny). However, I heard that if the accused players' careers are in fact over at Duke, they will immediately be recruited by Penn State football coach Joe Paterno. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/01/say-she-aint-ho-joe.html).
- Speaking of Paterno, his BFF, former Florida St. linebacker A.J. Nicholson was drafted by the Cincinnati Bengals. Nicholson said in a statement through Paterno that he would appreciate if no attractive women of Cincinnati would knock on his door.
- Back to lacrosse, this two incidents are completely unconnected, but seriously, y'all! What the fuck? http://www.deadspin.com/sports/lacrosse/team-bonding-exercises-170032.php. And right in Sergio's backyard, no less. The most head-shaking part of it is the coach's explanation that this was "horseplay." Dude, I've heard the bunghole called a handful of things in my day, but never "the horse." I think they may have just coined a new expression here. Seriously, I know I'm cranky lately, but what the fuck, people? I'd be willing to indict this under some incredibly twisted gay porn version of groupthink, but this is the fucking coaches! They're paid to if not be some form of role models (which they should be), at least not gang rape high school kids. Maybe 8yearoldsdude should have been compensated extra for not being a sexual deviant in his soccer coaching. Then again, as Chris Rock famously said, "You're not SUPPOSED to go to jail, low-expectation-having motherfucker!"
- Speaking of 8yearoldsdude, he deserves a hearty huzzah and kudos (TM Jon Stewart) for his excellent juxtaposition of talking about Fleetwood Mac's "Rumors" and posting a slightly-better, but typically insight-deprived Slate article in the same post. (http://8yearoldsdude.blogspot.com/2006/04/things-learned-from-watching-much_28.html). Given that the opening track of "Rumors" is "Second Hand News" after all. Well played, 8yearoldsdude.
- Back to crime for a second, 2 14-year-old girls (would anyone else really be that stupid?) were arrested after they posted a video on their MySpace pages of them kicking a cat. I'm not really sure how the cops got a hold of this unless the cops enjoy looking at pictures of scantily-clad high school girls or helping promote Silverstein, but still. And who the hell does that? Poor cat. I think as their punishment, people should get to kick them.
- And now a video that won't send anyone to jail. Alex Rodriguez ... doing some form of the Bull Dance? http://youtube.com/watch?v=8SXZRUmlWdk&search=%26quot%3BAlex%20Rodriguez%26quot%3B. There's nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- So Norah Jones and some friends have cut an album under the name The Little Willies. (No, I'm leaving that be.) Surprisingly, it's sufficiently inoffensive and forgettable, which explains why I heard it working at Starbucks. However, I've heard that when their crew gets together, it's almost physically impossible to get them to go home. (HUGE props to anyone who gets that.)
- Speaking of Starbucks music, my Saturday customers bought quite a few copies of Bruce Springsteen's "Seeger Sessions." I haven't heard it, but I did hear that none of the songs on it were actually written by Pete Seeger, therefore making it a musical Grape Nuts. Which is too bad because say what you will about Springsteen (and I certainly will, including that it boggles my mind how someone could headline the Vote For Change Tour and also have recorded "The Rising"), I would have been psyched for his take on "Catchin' Fish, Catchin' Hell." (Yes, I know. Audience of one on that joke.)
- If you happen to have your eye caught in the video store by a tagline proclaiming the indie film "Dot the I" as "this year's Memento," don't be fooled like I was. It sucks! I can't review it without spoiling it. Maybe ReelFanatic can if he's still reading, but Memento is a tremendous movie and Dot the I isn't even decent.
- OK, so glad I was able to put a few items in between that high school lacrosse story and my review of Brokeback Mountain, since it would have accidentally been in really poor taste otherwise. Anyway, I really did enjoy the movie. Unlike the Christian right's fears, I did not run out at 1 AM and immediately have sex with a dude. I thought the movie really picked up once they finished their tour of duty on the mountain because before that, it was a little over the top. For instance, all Jake Gyllenhaal's whooping and hollering and the scene where he playfully lassoes Heath Ledger. I used the test, if it were a man and woman, I'd still be like, "Gimme a break!" and the answer was yes. I thought it worked better once they came back to their "own lives" because things started falling into place. For instance, one of the biggest problems I was having at the beginning was, "Am I supposed to buy Jake Gyllenhaal's character as "macho," because he's like a Village People cowboy?" And as far as I can tell, the answer is no. Heath Ledger's supposed to be the "cowboy archetype," but just him, and that made me stop rejecting Jake Gyllenhaal's character as ridiculously poorly written, which was what I initially thought, and start appreciating him for who he was. (Feel free to disagree with me because I'm not 100% sold). It's a tricky proposition those who say to try to watch it as a love story and not as a gay love story, since in some instances it helps, like their reunion kiss where my logic is thinking, "Why the hell are you kissing a dude in plain sight of your wife?" and then I'm like, "Oh yeah, romantic yearning, unbridled passion, you know the drill." But on the other hand, the context of either the society or Heath Ledger's preconceived notions about society, are what drives it. I did have a few lingering questions that bothered me. First, and I'll do it first since it was the least of my concerns, that Jake Gyllenhaal's character ran off with his wife's friend's husband near the end, it just seemed like to much of a typical movie contrivance convenience that Randal, I believe the character's name was, is also gay. Second, when they first have sex, I was trying to buy the cabin fever confusion defense in how Heath Ledger was like, "Get off me, get off me, OK, let's do it!" but he REALLY looked like he knew what he was doing, so I didn't buy him as a first-timer in that scene at all. The licking of the hand really sealed it for me. Of course, his backstory as far as relationships wasn't explored, but still. If that was supposed to be his "awakening," that didn't work for me. Also, the scene where Cassie Cartwright tells him, "Girls don't fall in love with fun." I've read some about that being a powerful scene, but it really didn't work for me either. So what did she fall in love with? They never really showed him showing any interest in her at all. I mean sure, it backs up my ranting that women fall in love with rampant disinterest, but I'm not sure that's what they meant to convey. Lastly, and this falls on the writer, if you don't want it to be over-the-top, Jake Gyllenhaal's character should have had a different name because "Jack Twist" couldn't possibly sound more like a gay porn star name. Anyway, I said when I saw Crash that I was fine with it winning Best Picture just based on its own merits, and I'm still fine with that. I still think it was an excellent film and didn't find Brokeback Mountain to be otherworldly better. I wouldn't have thrown a fuss if it had won either. They both have plenty of merit, but I don't see a "controversy." But that's just me.
- And finally, time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner! If you happened to be reading Friday and heard me ranting about The Anorexic 5000's prom dress that allegedly costs $15,000, you might have been curious as to what it looks like instead of just taking my word for it. Here you go: http://www.justjared.com/pictures/photos.php?yr=2006&mon=04&evt=the_oc_koreans&pic=the-oc-koreans17.jpg. And I also realized while doing this search that I totally neglected to mention Tracy Flick's atrocious "boating sweater" from earlier in the episode. Sorry about that. But here it is in all it's hidiocy: http://www.justjared.com/pictures/photos.php?yr=2006&mon=04&evt=the_oc_koreans&pic=the-oc-koreans34.jpg. It's pretty safe to assume these both (well, the dress already got it, but I have no problem giving it another) get an emphatic DOWNGRADE!!!!!

What's a Canadian farm boy to do? (HIT SOMEBODY!) What's a Canadian farm boy to do? (HIT SOMEBODY!)

Ain't nothin' wrong, if you wanna do the OCk all night long

2006-04-28T13:23:00.000-07:00

The Carver got a big ol’ OCk! OH YEAH! Hot Gobette got a big ol’ OCk! OH YEAH! Little Russell Crowe got a big ol’ OCk! OH YEAH! Peter Gallagher got a big ol’ OCk! OH YEAH! Time for Do You Smell What The OCk Is Cookin’?!

One-sentence recap: Everybody acts like a complete tool! Despite the fact that I was kinda middle-of-the-road on the film, I’ve rented out Napoleon Dynamite to help me address the overwhelming idiocy present in this episode. Mostly because he’ll help cut down on my swearing.

Peter Gallagher and Carrie Wood don’t do much this episode. Carrie Wood has sort apologized for her public admonishment of Peter Gallagher last week, but wusses out on admitting to drinking. They sort of agree to put their issues on hold until D-Nozz and LRC leave, which they say is in 2 months. Huh? College starts in June now? Anyway, if you switch their agenda with addressing their issues never, then you’d have my family. Anyway, Carrie Wood does confess her chug-a-lug to Hot Gobette, who says Carrie Wood should tell Peter Gallagher. Carrie Wood says she tried. Carrie Wood seems to be under the impression that it’s Opposite Day. IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite) Carrie Wood says that if she tells him that their marriage drove her to drink, it would seem like blackmail to keep him in the marriage and she feels like one more thing will push them over the edge. OK, first of all, Carrie Wood, you’re being a damn drama queen. Your marriage is not on the verge of “over the edge” just because Peter Gallagher missed a few dinners and is making a shady business deal. Second of all, you don’t have to blame him for the drinking in the admission. The old “Sobriety is fucking hard” seems to work for everyone else. I’m just saying. They have dinner with Hot Gobette and The Carver and reminisce about their kids and how The Anorexic 5000 and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 met in kindergarten when they were wearing the same outfit and their maturity level hasn’t increased since. And D-Nozz wanted to be called “Boba Fett” as a kid. Which reminds me of the best episode of News Radio ever. Then The Carver gets a phone call from someone on the nebulous “hospital committee” saying that Mr. Green has been indicted for being shady and Peter Gallagher is being investigated for his dealings with Mr. Green. I just love me a little PhoneCallus Ex Machina. Oh, sorry. I thought it was Opposite Day there for a second.

So for everyone else, it’s their senior prom. And everyone keeps saying, “Go to prom.” IDIOTS! (TM Napoleon Dynamite). You go to “THE prom.” Unless you’re me. I actually went to a DC United soccer game during my senior prom. Everyone said to me, “You’ll look back on this experience and regret not going.” Well, no one who said that to me was a big fucking help getting me a date. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it 100 times. Having no friends in high school sucks. Although to be honest, for good or ill, that’s influenced greatly who I am today. So anyway, I don’t have any stories about my senior prom, so I’ll have to fall back on the same people who have yet to convince me that Postmodernism exists.

So D-Nozz actually isn’t ignoring Paris Hilton this time unlike the last 2 years. However, Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 is still ignoring him. So D-Nozz tricks her into meeting him at the diner upon which he spies a cute blonde waitress and SNAPS (the physical sound effect I can’t do) for her to hurry up and bring 14’s dish. OK, if anyone EVER snapped at me while I was working at Starbucks, I’d jump the counter. And if my significant other ever did that, I’d break up with her on the spot. But D-Nozz and 14 suck and I don’t (says me). Anyway, the humanity-now-deprived waitress brings pancakes with “Prom?” spelled out in chocolate chips. And 14 tells him to fuck off. And nobody eats the pancakes. They look delicious. So D-Nozz gets back on the horn with Paris Hilton and tells him her stupid idea didn’t work, so Paris Hilton jumps a plane to The OCk to help D-Nozz win her back. Paris Hilton either has A) WAY too much disposable income, B) nothing better to do, or C) both. I vote C. So Paris Hilton tries to explain to Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 that she and D-Nozz aren’t together and 14 tells her to fuck off. It should be noted that D-Nozz would be wise to get with Paris instead. She’s much better looking and much smarter and much less of a bitch. And considering how attractive I think Paris Hilton (the real and The OCk) is, that’s says a lot for how I feel about 14. So Paris Hilton’s next plan is to go to THE prom with D-Nozz and make 14 jealous. Well, OK. It should be noted that anorexia and bad hair aside, Paris Hilton looks pretty in her dress. D-Nozz still looks like a constipated douche. Meanwhile, 14 is dateless, as she should be. However, Tracy Flick, queen of the one-sided friendship sets her up with her boyfriend, Somebody Yell Sung Ho’s cousin, who is allegedly a Korean pop star and fronts a “band” called Big Korea. This is allegedly an inside joke because D-Nozz’s portrayer’s band is called Big Japan. Someone thinks this is hilarious, but it isn’t. Anyway, Tracy Flick also mentions that Somebody Yell Sung Ho is hairless so doing him is like “hooking up with a seal.” In the words of 14, “Ew!” And how does Tracy Flick know what hooking up with a seal feels like? 14 and The Anorexic 5000 listen to Big Korea’s CD and it’s appropriately awful. When we finally get to see this dude, he looks like … BZZZZZZT! OW! Crap. OK, take 2. He’s wearing tons of makeup and hair like he’s in the Korean Flock of Seagulls. So they take pictures and 14 sticks out her tongue to try to ruin D-Nozz’s pictures. I’m not making this up. About the same time, 14 FINALLY remembers the napkin on which D-Nozz confessed a few of his lies and says if he ever lies again, 14 can give it to his parents. And 14 leaves it on Peter Gallagher’s desk. Yeah, suck it, D-Nozz! The one time someone takes you at your word. Enjoy the petard hoisting. When they get to THE prom, Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 steals Iceman’s flask (which I’ll get to later) and chugs it all night long and proceeds to make a giant ass out of herself. D-Nozz takes this to mean she’s not jealous while anyone else with half a brain knows that’s why she’s acting out. IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite).

Tracy Flick gets up to announce the king and queen and some douche makes fun of her and everyone laughs rather than appreciating her efforts. Well, some things never change. Then again, Tracy Flick deserves it for making a gratuitous plug for American Idol. Considering everyone watches that shit and no one watches this shit, the gratuitous plug should be the other way around. Then she announces the prom queen to be Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14. OK, so I said this last year, but how does someone with 3 friends, possible 4 if you count her Single White Female Tracy Flick get voted prom queen? By that logic, I’d be king of their prom. That reminds me. Choi and I should crash someone’s prom. That would be hilarious. Anyway, she gets up on stage and starts being a drunken bitch, as opposed to her usual sober bitch. And slurs about how she’s going to kiss Big Korean Flock of Seagulls to make D-Nozz jealous. She does and Big Korean Flock of Seagulls is like, “Yikes! A WOMAN! AHHHHHHHHHH!” (I apologize for what seems like a cheap gay joke, but it makes sense if you’ve actually seen the episode). Then Girl Who Looks She’s 14 proceeds to fall off the stage. I was in the middle of texting Choi at this point, but I almost dropped the phone from laughing so hard. I wish I had a DVR so I could replay this. Unfortunately, she’s fine, even though it was like a Chevy Chase SNL fall. D-Nozz prances around screaming for a towelette, probably because he just wet himself. Then he and Paris Hilton carry her into … the office of The Peach Pit After Dark? And then Paris Hilton’s like, “My plan worked to perfection. You have no choice but to tell her the truth now.” I have a feeling that Paris Hilton is talking out of her ass because that makes no sense. Although if it was Paris Hilton’s plan all along to get 14 to fall off the stage, then I salute her. She’s then like, “Good luck, assholes,” and leaves. D-Nozz finally tells Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 that he lied about not getting into Brown because he wanted her to go and then he tried to talk his way in and 14 is like, “That’s so romantic. I love you.” Yeah, say it with me. IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite) Well, that was convenient. And horrible. Let’s do a reenactment. D-Nozz: "I lied a shitload and kept on lying and then flew to Brown and lied some more." Summer: "That's so sweet." Once again, now I know why I’m single. (Oh, it’s gonna get worse. Just wait for this next plot.)

OK, so you know it’s bad when I’ve recapped D-Nozz’s plotline and said the idiocy gets worse. And you know it’s bad when Iceman kinda comes out of the episode looking the best. Welcome, my friends, to Iceman Explains It All! So Little Russell Crowe and D-Nozz spot Iceman making out with some nasty tattooed chick on the ubiquitous pier. And yes, I said she’s nasty just because she has tattoos. Deal with it! So Little Russell Crowe eventually confronts him and Iceman seriously responds with what translates in our Iceman to English Dictionary as, “It wasn’t me.” Awesome! But Little Russell Crowe decides not to tell The Anorexic 5000 since he saves his “help” for the worst possible times. Instead he decides to invite Baby Mama to THE prom, which isn’t a horrible idea since aside from having bad teeth, she’s still the hottest woman on the damn show. Which is still saying nothing. I’m still upset because this killed my dream of his inviting the one woman he has undeniable chemistry with – Dr. Kim! The Anorexic 5000, on the other hand, decides that as part of her I’m So Fucking Special campaign, she’ll take Iceman. She asks him and he basically wants no part of it, but when she discovers he dropped out of HS long before his own prom, she decides she has to take him. OK, two things. First, the reason guys like Iceman fuck every girl on the planet is because every girl on the planet thinks they SO fucking special that they’re the one who’s gonna change him. And they aren’t. IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite) Second, don’t make a guy who doesn’t want to go to THE prom go to THE prom. So they show up to take the pictures and SWEET FUCKING CHRIST, WHAT IS THE ANOEREXIC 5000 WEARING?????!!!!!! I’M BLIND!!!!!!!!!! (TM Al Bundy) She’s wearing a dress with a GIANT poofy flower directly in the fucking middle of it. It’s like someone sewed a loofah onto the front of her dress. Her date should have been Bill O'Reilley. FUCKING DOWNGRADE TO THE 800TH POWER!!!! So they’re taking the pictures and The Anorexic 5000 is by herself. To quote the eloquent Nelson Muntz, “HA ha!” I think her dress also broke the camera. Of course, they dispatch Little Russell Crowe to find Iceman because Iceman doesn’t hate anyone else. LRC finds Iceman opening someone’s purse and simultaneously pouring a whole shit ton of Peter Gallagher’s booze into his flask. But all LRC says is, “If you ruin this for The Anorexic 5000, I’ll kick your ass.” Feel free to say something about the fact that he’s stealing your adopted dad’s booze. Way to pick your spots, there, LRC. IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite) Mercifully, Iceman has put his collar back down from when he was originally getting dressed in his expensive suit. He really needs to stop bitching about everyone else being rich because he is too.

So Baby Mama is pretty useless at THE prom other than that she says nothing between her and LRC could ever be “casual.” But then she tries to kiss him anyway. IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite). Mercifully, or not, considering he’s going back to The Anorexic 5000, they’re interrupted by Tracy Flick. In the least surprising development of the day, Iceman is bored out of his skull. Did anyone see that coming? The Anorexic 5000 sure didn’t. IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite). Plus he has no flask full of Peter Gallagher’s booze because 14 stole it. What a bitch! So he screams at the top of his lungs that he’s going out to smoke weed. Conveniently, some blonde chick that looks like a stripper is like, “DID YOU SAY WEED? I want your johnson!” Seriously, that’s about what she said. And they go off to fuck and have a hot tub. (TM Chris Klein in Election). So when The Anorexic 5000 and Little Russell Crowe, who should be with his own fucking date, go to find him, he’s making out with the pothead stripper in plain sight. The Anorexic 5000 slaps him, which promptly results in her skeletal hand breaking. Iceman’s like, “What did you expect?” THANK CHRIST! It’s about time someone said it. Once again, I wonder why I’m single. Seriously, I can’t stand “bad boy” types, but they only succeed because they’re given everything for free. As I said before, the reason guys like Iceman fuck every girl on the planet is because every girl on the planet thinks they SO fucking special that they’re the one who’s gonna change him. And they aren’t. IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite). Seriously, your vagina does not have magical redemptive powers. Sorry to break it to you. The Anorexic 5000 got EXACTLY what she deserved. If you’d like to call me a misogynist right now, I can’t really defend myself except to tell you that I learned this theory from a woman. And she’s right. Iceman then dishes out some more truthiness (TM Stephen Colbert) and calls LRC The Anorexic 5000’s “bitch boy.” Damn, you’re throwin’ rocks tonight, Iceman! (TM Steve Buscemi in The Big Lebowski). I hate you, but at least you’re the one person with enough insight to call people out on their shit. And I respect that.

And now an interlude for the best line of the night. Choi said that she deserved to get cheated on just for wearing that dress in public. Someday I should post the transcripts of our text conversations during this show or Grey’s. We’re funny.

So The Anorexic 5000 decides to drown her sorrows with a fifth of … wait, where the hell did that come from? (TM Choi) And also whine about how “her boyfriend cheated on her at THE prom.” Hey, who ever said he was your boyfriend? IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite, god I’m getting sick of typing this). So when I mentioned Tracy Flick interrupting LRC and Baby Mama, it was actually when she discovered the $5000 dollars to pay for renting out The Peach Pit After Dark had been stolen. Since LRC saw Iceman do it, now would be a great time to call the cops. But instead, he’d rather go fight him. IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite). Iceman says that his plot to get LRC to fight him FINALLY worked. Wow, the dude went a LONG FUCKING WAY to get LRC to fight him. That’s … pathetic. LRC says he just came for the money. Iceman counters and says that if he just wanted the money, he would have called the cops. Once again, point to Iceman. LRC insists he’s not there to fight, but everyone knows he’s full of shit. Iceman then claims that by next week, The Anorexic 5000 will be fucking him again. Truer words have never been spoken. You know why? Everybody now! Because the reason guys like Iceman fuck every girl on the planet is because every girl on the planet thinks they SO fucking special that they’re the one who’s gonna change him. And they aren’t. I would also like to mention that Iceman was spot on in saying LRC was The Anorexic 5000’s “bitch boy” because if he weren’t, he wouldn’t be there and wouldn’t be punching him only after he said the thing about fucking her next week. Oh yeah, I was too busy with the character assassination to remember there was a fight. So Little Russell Crowe’s like, “Don’t call my idiot slutty ex-girlfriend a slut, Iceman! I’m Little Russell Crowe and I’m gonna Romper Stomp your ass! Makin’ movies, makin’ songs and foy-in’ round the world!” (TM South Park). And Iceman’s like, “Highway through the Danger Zone! I’m gonna take you riding through the Danger Zone,” and good god that song sucks! Lots of expensive shit gets broken and eventually Iceman appears to be unconscious and LRC keeps hitting him although he finally does the Zedeno Chara “You’re my bitch” fake punch at the end, but Iceman may or may not be dead anyway. And if he weren’t The Anorexic 5000’s “bitch boy,” none of this would have happened. Everyone say it with Napoleon! IDIOT! (TM Napoleon Dynamite).

Next week: Little Russell Crowe asks The Anorexic 5000 to lie and alibi him for whatever he did to Iceman. Because I’m sure his DNA isn’t on him from the blood. D-Nozz calls out Peter Gallagher on ignoring him and appears to have a point. Then D-Nozz gets arrested for … wow, maybe character police do exist. I hope he has to be somebody’s bitch. And … what the hell? The Anorexic 5000 becomes a stripper? What the fuck? Well, it looks like Heritage For the Blind is getting a lot of new members.

Voulez-vous the bus?

2006-04-26T12:37:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago, someone told me offsite that one of the things they really like about Bend It is that I’ll give credit and consideration to others’ opinions that differ from my own if they’re well-voiced. And sometimes that was what kept them from reading some of the things I had to say and just thinking I’m an asshole. I was very pleased to hear that, since that’s the way I try to play it around here. But it also gave me an idea for a new interactive feature. It’s called “Convince Senor Beavis He’s Wrong.” I’m not talking really dangerous deep-seated stuff like convincing me to vote Republican. Just stuff like … well, hopefully it’ll work better in practice than trying to explain it. Time for Convince Senor Beavis He’s Wrong!

I don’t believe that “Postmodernism” exists.

This isn’t new. I’m sure I’ve said that on here before. I think the first time I mentioned that was the beginning of my senior year of college. JoshuaTrees had written a review for The Washington Post of the Soul Coughing concert we’d gone to over the summer and had described Mike Doughty as a “whirling postmodern dervish.” I told him that doesn’t mean anything since postmodernism doesn’t exist and it’s kinda taken off from there.

“Postmodernism” is a catch-all term used for two things. First, to try to label something that’s un-definable. Second, to try to sound intelligent without actually saying anything. People hear “postmodernism” and tend to think the user is full of smarts and ideas and philosophies. It’s kinda like a secret handshake for intellectuals. I’m not saying you’re not full of smarts, ideas, and philosophies if you say it, but there’s certainly no correlation. More than likely, it’s just someone either talking out of his or her ass or undermining his or her own credibility. What exactly does it mean? It just means, “I don’t really know what the fuck to do with this, so I’m gonna call it this just so it won’t be a free radical of an idea, performance, or piece of work.”

A lot of the blame should be attributed to the convention of temporal naming for artistic and intellectual movements. I mean considering “Modernism” was in the late 1800s and early 1900s, that pretty much fucked everyone who lived after them in terms of what to call your movement. Either the “leaders” of Modernism thought the world would blow up immediately and no one would live past their era, they sincerely wanted to fuck over the rest of civilization in hopes that might dissuade any kind of shift from their style, or they were just really really really really really really really really shortsighted. Because if you want to get technical about it, anything after Modernism is Postmodern, which results in the gigantic safety net that it is. If Postmodernism actually does exist, what would you call three shifts after it, “Post post post postmodernism?” Fuck that. That’s like the naming stages of the history of French government. (I KNEW that French history class would get used someday. Woot!)

A side note here for a second, I took a class on Modernism my senior year of college and was equally skeptical that Modernism didn’t exist. But in fact it did have trends and tenets and my favorite English professor dedicated his entire life to studying it, so I guess it does. I highly recommend the late David Kadlec’s magnum opus, “Mosaic Modernism” if you’re in the mood for surprisingly accessible academic writing.

Anyway, the primary reason I’m posting this is that my viewpoints aside, the primary evidence backing up my disbelief in Postmodernism is that no one’s ever tried to convince me it does exist. And that’s frustrating because a lack of evidence should not be the driving force behind one’s argument. If someone had ever sat me down and said, “Yes, Virginia, there is a Postmodernism. And it has these characteristics and was primarily driven by these innovators, and it’s inevitably leading to here,” then I’d consider dropping it. Most likely people just roll their eyes when I say it, because I usually get a, “Well, there are some who would agree with you,” which means nothing other than glossing over it.

Essentially, and ironically, postmodernism is the God of the artistic and philosophical world. People put a shitload of faith in it, but no one can actually prove it exists.

Or can you?

I want these motherfing snakes off the motherfing plane!

2006-04-24T13:46:00.000-07:00

Advertising looks and chops a must. No BIG HAIR! Time for Musings!

- I'd like to officially object to Cubs' star player Derrek Lee's being out at least 3 months with a broken wrist. Considering I've been pretty miserable at my job and my social life is fairly nonexistent, lately the Cubs have been the only thing keeping me sane. And the line to call me pathetic forms behind me.
- Speaking of baseball, last night I heard a radio commercial for the White Sox that mentioned a fictitious 9-year-old fan named "Nicole Mullins" whose parents wanted to name her "Ozzie." Well, considering Ozzie Guillen has been manager for 2 years and one month and in 1997, which she was "born," he was a .245-batting shortstop for the White Sox, I'd have to guess he wasn't high on the radar for fictitious baby names. Nicely done, Fibonacci. Look, I respect the hell out of the White Sox for winning the World Series. Hey, White Sox. Just stick to "We won the Series. Come see us!" because evidently anything else is mentally exhausting. And if you don't want me making jokes about the stereotype, stop reinforcing it!
- Speaking of more idiocy in baseball, former Mets' player and cokehead and current Mets broadcaster Keith Hernandez said multiple times during Saturday's game against the Padres that Kelly Calabrese, one of the Padres' trainers didn't belong in the dugout because "women don't belong in the dugout." Excuse me while I bang my head into the wall. Said Calabrese, "He not only discredited me as a person, but he discredited women." Regardless of whether one of my best friends used to work in sports, I know that the locker room is one of the most ass-backwards places in the world in terms of culture, but A) that's no excuse, and B) even so, does anyone except for Keith Hernandez have a problem with female trainers? I spent quite a bit of time in the training room in college and we had tons of female trainers. The point of a trainer is to help you not get injured. As a profession. I think the vast majority of female trainers would be able to do the job they were trained for professionally without being overcome by the overwhelming desire to grab Keith Hernandez's johnson. I think as punishment, Kelly Calabrese should get to spit on him.
- Still talking sports, time for the Bend It NHL Players Marcel Goc and Jonathan Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer Watch! It's now the playoffs and the San Jose Sharks are tied 1-1 in their best-of-7 series with the Nashville Predators. Frankly, that's all that matters, since the point of the playoffs is just to win, regardless of whether Marcel Goc has to play goalie. Speaking of, think the Sharks could use Mikka Kiprusoff right now? Jesus, Joey! (TM William Hurt in A History of Violence). But for the record, Marcel Goc has an assist and Cheechoo has one goal and two assists. Go Sharks!
- During the NHL playoffs, I saw another Keifer Sutherland commercial for the playoffs. Dude, you can say whatever you want, but I'm only hearing one thing: Fill up the tub!!!!!!
- Speaking of jokes only 8yearoldsdude will get, you know what I got every time I saw CBS analyst Steven Bardo during the NCAA Tournament? A vision of the Bardo!
- Speaking of hockey, the NHL made a change this past year where home teams wear their dark jerseys at home. No one really knows why and it totally sucked because instead of getting to see the different colors of the different visiting teams. Now it's backfired on another NHL highlight. During Saturday's Buffalo-Philadelphia playoff game, which was a great game by the way, the Buffalo fans were all encouraged to wear white to the game. Which is great except that they appeared to be supporting the white-clad Flyers. Oh yeah, and check this out: http://youtube.com/watch?v=EdN9NsV4zko&search=brian%20campbell.
- Speaking of getting the hell beat out of you during a sporting event, the San Francisco Giants and Colorado Rockies exchanged beanballs over the weekend spurred by the Rockies' Jose Mesa's feud with the Giants' Oman Vizquel. Evidently, Vizquel called his ex-Indians teammate a "choker" for blowing the save in the 1997 World Series in his autobiography and Mesa responded by saying he'd hit Vizquel every time up. Now I love people in baseball getting hit as much, OK, much more than the next guy, but I'd have to say it's all Vizquel's fault. Of course Jose Mesa is a choker. We knew that anyway. But first of all, what's Vizquel doing writing a bo0k? What's he got to say? I was born. I grew up. I won lots of Gold Gloves. The end. Secondly, any idiot knows you don't insult people in your book until you finish playing. While he still has the opportunity to throw a 90-mile-per-hour fastball at your head or your balls is probably not the best time. You get him, Jose! That's natural selection at work.
- Speaking of getting the hell beat out of you by a professional athlete, soon-to-be Bears cornerback Ricky Manning, Jr. and his posse beat the hell out of some guy working on his laptop at Denny's. Allegedly, Manning kept calling the guy a "nerd," and the dude complained to the manager, which seems to me as good a reason to curb-stomp someone as any. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/nfl/ricky-manning-jr-will-bludgeon-you-you-freaking-nerd-169113.php. Well, all you coffee shop grad students, this is why I do all my computing within the confines of my abode. Seriously, how bad do this dude's roommates have to suck if he's on his laptop at Denny's, risking contamination by fake hollandaise? (Yuck, by the way. I'm no fan of the hollandaise.) OK, I changed my mind. Given that my job and computer both suck, when Manning joins the Bears, I'm going to quit my job and dedicate my life to following Ricky Manning, Jr. around with my laptop. Sweet! Now I finally have a life plan that does not involve winning the lottery.
- Also speaking of getting the hell beat out of you by a professional athlete, but this time deserving it. Corporate Idol contestant Bo Bice got in a fight with former NFL lineman Glenn Parker last week. I mean if I made millions whoring myself out to the most unholy entity in the world, I'm sure I'd risk my health in a brawl with a 300-pound muscular dude, but then again there are some insults you just can't let go. Allegedly, Parker asked him if he was the guy from Creed. There is nothing I can say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- Toss Up: What's worse -- being that guy from American Idol or that guy from Creed?
- Speaking of fake country singers, or whatever Mr. Bice is, here's something from my job I can tell you. The Wiggles have multiple songs about "boot scooting," whatever that is. There's nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- OK, so all I really know is that whatever it is, it has something to do with Cadillacs and blackjack. And shitty music.
- Speaking of shitty music, according to Rolling Stone, singer Kelis of "Milkshake" fame references that song in her new single. Allegedly, the chorus involves, "That's right, I brought all the boys to the yard." Kelis is now officially dead to me. If I've never mentioned it before, referencing your past hits in a new song is one of my biggest musical pet peeves ever, as well as an unforgivable sin. On top of the established bad sequel diminishing the original truism from movies, it's an essential admission that you're living on past glory because you have absolutely nothing now. So far this has never been wrong. Robert Plant checking old Zeppelin songs in "Tall Cool One." Veruca Salt referencing "Seether" in "Volcano Girls." Bon Jovi mentioning Tommy and Gina in "It's My Life." Dr. Dre making a song called, "Still a G Thang." If anyone else can think of any others, throw them out. It was nice knowing you, Kelis. Although now that I mention it, maybe she got the idea from her husband, Nas, who named a recent album, "Stillmatic" after his previous only hit album, "Illmatic" in an attempt to recapture past glory.
- Speaking of living off past glory, I'd like to nominate for consideration for Worst Album Title Ever the Red Hot Chili Peppers' new album "Stadium Arcadium." They even went to the effort to put out a single, "Dani California." Glad to hear they're still phoning in songs about California. I'm sure it's exhausting.
- Speaking of pathetic cash grabs, it's once again time for Sleepless Is Going To Write In and Make a Joke About How I'm Going to Be Fired. Saturday was Earth Day and Starbucks celebrated by giving away free coffee on Friday to everyone who brought in their own mug. Of course, it was the shittiest coffee they have, but still. Starbucks gives lip service to being a "green" corporation with that and their giving away coffee grounds for people's gardens and their stupid Ethos Water, which I've talked about in the past. So how the fuck does that balance against the ludicrous amount of paper wasted on all the coasters, flyers, and promotional cards for Akeelah and the Bee? Somehow I think $9.50 a person at the theatre trumps a $.10 discount for bringing your own mug or the alleged $.10 donation for Ethos water. By "green" corporation, they mean ... well, you know.
- Speaking of Earth Day, I was walking to Starbucks at 4:50 AM Saturday morning and was horrified to discover two drunk guys pulling up flowers out of people's gardens are shredding them gleefully. On fucking Earth Day! It really made me mad. What made me equally mad was that I didn't say anything to them because I didn't really want to risk getting Ricky Manning-ed at 4:50 AM on Saturday over some tulips. I suck.
- Speaking of Starbucks, time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner Part 1! I thought the whole popped collar thing was supposed to be going out, but during my Starbucks shift I saw a 50-year-old man with his collar popped. I wanted to ask him did he think he was like Bad Boys of Bushwood or something? At least that was funny. Later in my shift I saw a dude in a pink oxford shirt with his collar up. I don't even know what to say about that. I already downgraded the trend, so I can't repeat myself. It was really just too horrifying for words.
- On the flip side of my Earth Day wussiness, it's time for Bend It In Action! Last Monday, as Footnotes was withdrawing money at an ATM, a chick was talking loudly on her cellphone and exclaimed loudly to the other end that she was going to leave the ATM because she was "getting a funny look." Footnotes said, "Were you giving her a look?" I responded, "Hell yeah! This isn't a fucking phone booth."
- Tom Cruise told the press that his baby's name, Suri, means "princess" or "red rose" in Hebrew. Hebrew linguists have countered that it actually means, "Go away, bitch!" http://www.thesuperficial.com/archives/2006/04/20/tom_cruise_is_the_master_of_la.html. There is nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- Finally, time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner Part 2! I don't think I've ever actually discussed trucker hats and had kinda forgotten them until I saw someone wearing one yesterday. Now believe it or not, there are people who look good wearing these things. However, they're called farmers. It keeps the sun out of their eyes and ventilates their heads with the mesh. But in the name of Derrek Lee would anyone else want to wear such a thing? What the wearer really says is that he or she just wants to be part of a trend regardless of how bad it looks. Which is a really frightening mentality. I'm trying to figure out what would have inspired it as a trend to start with aside from the probable likelihood that Ashton Kutcher's svengalian agent owns a hat company. Is it supposed to be a winking adoption of "low culture," like, "Ha ha, we're rich and dressing like farmers?" Shit, farmers make a good living, and I'd sure as shit rather hang out with a bunch of them than with anyone who'd wear a trucker hat out in public. DOWNGRADE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I want you so hard, I want you so good. But can you trust me? Yes, you know you could. My friends are talkin', and they're tellin' you ... (cue Jack Black) "You're wastin' your time 'cause the boy's bad news."

Clap your hands say OCk

2006-04-21T15:11:00.000-07:00

Yeah, so I gave The OCk shit for their use of a whimsical plot device named Lizzie Maguire. Not a big fan of the out-of-place whimsy this author. Well, this episode makes the last one look like a fucking documentary. Time for Do You Smell What The OCk is Cookin’?!

I’m actually gonna lead off with Little Russell Crowe this week, so we can hopefully get that fucking baby out of the way ASAP. Plus, his plotline this week is pretty boring. So Little Russell Crowe is going to Berkeley for accepted students weekend, as is D-Nozz for Brown accepted students weekend, which I’ll get to later. LRC tries to give D-Nozz a hug goodbye and gets shot down. D-Nozz sucks. Anyway, LRC is paired with a freshman to show him around. This freshman is dead set on going to law school, which makes me predisposed to hating him. This has nothing to do with law school, just that people who have an exact idea of what they think they want when they start college scare me. He also looks A) like he’s 40, and B) like the love child of John Elway and Dirk Nowitzki, and I don’t mean that in no good way either. Dirk Elway somehow has connections with The OCk Prep water polo players, but I guess he didn’t go there because no one already knows him. LRC whines that he feels like he doesn’t fit in because he’s from 10 Minutes Away in Chino and Dirk Elway gives him some jibber-jabber about how Berkeley has “no mold” and I’m falling asleep. They’re eating at what I guess is the cafeteria when The Anorexic 5000 walks in and Dirk Elway is taken with her immediately. Once again, am I watching the same show? I guess people have bad taste in chicks even outside The OCk. Anyway, Little Russell Crowe and The Anorexic 5000 make an uneasy pact to be friends in this Berkeley jonx, since they both feel out of place. Bunker mentality? I guess that actually is semi-realistic. The Anorexic 5000 takes time to mention that LRC used to be in musicals as a kid. That’s kinda funny. Raging Bull: The Musical.

Anyway, meanwhile at the airport, Carrie Wood spots Little Russell Crowe’s Baby Mama with a 2-year-old. Wait, doesn’t she live 10 Minutes Away in Chino? Where was she going? Well, they don’t seem to care about that. Carrie Wood, unlike me, remembers that LRC’s Baby Mama lied and said she lost the baby so LRC would go back to The OCk. Carrie Wood wants to tell LRC that Baby Mama has a baby immediately, while Peter Gallagher wants to wait until he gets back from Berkeley. Carrie Wood, to spite Peter Gallagher, tells him and he immediately flies home to address the situation. Carrie Wood, having nothing else to do but be pissed at Peter Gallagher, looks on the internet and tracks down Baby Mama’s address. Which evidently is in The OCk. Hmm, OK. Little Russell Crowe goes to talk to her and finds a nanny with the baby, who I’m calling Damien because kids on shows are devil spawn in their show-killing potential, while Baby Mama is at work. Because this is not last week’s episode, LRC does not have sex with the nanny. However, he does notice that Damien looks just like him. He then proceeds to stress about what to do and no one really gives him any advice. Then Baby Mama shows up sans Damien and tells LRC not to worry because she took a paternity test and the baby isn’t his. This is either really good or really bad news. The potential of good is that we’ll hopefully never have to see Damien again. The potential of bad is that she’s obvious lying again and we’ll totally have to see Damien again. Baby Mama says that she got a job at a hotel and has been promoted 3 times. Well, I guess now she’s assistant head hooker. So she came back to The OCk, away from her mom who had Damien with her last year, and got a job and a place and a nanny, and … I’m so confused, although I think I now want to work at this hotel. In theory she’s still the hottest woman on this show by a long shot, which is saying almost nothing, but Damien is about the DOWNGRADE of all DOWNGRADES.

Continuing with our Berkeley boredom, The Anorexic 5000 is going to the same admitted students weekend. However, she has some important business to take care of beforehand. She has to get her stuff back from The Iceman Warehouse. However, she forgot one more thing – actually breaking up with Iceman. So she meets Iceman at The OCk Diner and Iceman doesn’t bring her shit because, like I said, he hasn’t been broken up with yet. Well, it’s about time he does something that makes sense. He asks her why. Now would be a terrific time to mention that he condones his 15-year-old posse gang-raping people. I mean didn’t that seem like the reason last week? Well, instead, The Anorexic 5000 busts out this horseshit story about how her favorite movie is The Sound of Music and her favorite character is the eldest daughter and she still has a fantasy about her and her boyfriend singing to each other in a gazebo. Amazingly, Iceman does not deem the movie “gay.” He also does not point out, like everyone on the entire planet, that THE BOYFRIEND IN THE SOUND OF MUSIC WAS A NAZI!!!!!!!! Well, I guess that does explain The Anorexic 5000’s shitty taste in guys. Essentially, The Anorexic 5000 tells him that he doesn’t fit her dream and therefore she’s too good for him. Well, yeah, but that’s kinda mean. Seriously, I think the fact that he condones his 15-year-old posse gang-raping people seriously has potential as a breakup excuse. The Anorexic 5000 then runs off to Berkeley, brain still made of straw. The fact that it’s raining in Berkeley won’t help. Anyway, Little Russell Crowe magnanimously signs off on Dirk Elway’s hitting on The Anorexic 5000 and when LRC goes back to The OCk to attend to the Damien situation, Dirk Elway takes The Anorexic 5000 to a party. They have a heart to heart and The Anorexic 5000 says that she used to be a girl who rode ponies and dreamed of going to college and got straight A’s. OK, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. But then her dad happened and Blue Crush happened and she feel lost. She conveniently glosses over everything she fucked up herself. Dirk Elway confesses that this is his second freshman year and that the first time he wasn’t ready and was failing and went home. He said he refocused because you need to know what you want out of college. Dirk Elway is an idiot. If you substitute grad school for college, he’d be correct, but college is a discovery process. You don’t have to know what you want as long as you go to class and commit yourself to your activities. Like I said before, people who have their whole lives planned out before they start college scare the fuck out of me. Anyway, The Anorexic 5000 somehow takes this as a sign that she should go home early to The OCk as well. Which makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. But it gets worse. The Anorexic 5000 sneaks into The Iceman Warehouse to get her stuff and discovers Iceman asleep with a DVD rental of The Sound of Music next to him. And she climbs into bed with him. SHE IS SUCH A TYPICAL GIRL RIGHT NOW I CAN’T STAND IT. It’s what every woman does. They love guys who are dicks to them because the one time they aren’t, they fucking fall all over themselves. I hate The Anorexic 5000 so much right now I can’t even see straight. And I may throw a celebration when she gets fucked over next week because she deserves every ounce of unhappiness Iceman throws at her. Yeah, it’s a wonder I’m single. I’m going to go get a bottle of wine from under my sink now.

So Carrie Wood does nothing but sit home and be pissed at Peter Gallagher. Well, you could try doing something besides creating a mythical dating service that folded after its launch party. OR VOLUNTEER. Wow, I sound like my mom. Anyway, Hot Gobette begs her to attend a party for the new hospital that The Carver is going to even though he works at a hospital already and Peter Gallagher is going to and … I really don’t understand right now. Hot Gobette begs her because she says she can’t be alone while The Carver talks to his doctor buddies and The Carver begged her to go. So Carrie Wood goes and is disgusted by Peter Gallagher’s glad-handing. However, she chose to shut her hole about Hot Gobette’s using and tanking their sham of a business just to continue being a stupid gold digger. I’m just saying. So during their dinner, Peter Gallagher is being all old boys clubby and Carrie Wood can’t stand it anymore. Conveniently, The Carver asks her for a public comment about the hospital. Which is a botch on Hot Gobette’s part because Carrie Wood told her about this problem and she should have briefed The Carver. Carrie Wood gets up and makes a toast about how Peter Gallagher won’t shut the fuck up about the hospital and that it’s official, Peter Gallagher is now The Old Dude (Not Howie J. Reynolds). I’d call her a drama queen, but to her credit, Peter Gallagher continually refuses to have a conversation about this with her. Although now that I mention it, she could have done it 2 episodes ago instead of storming off to parts unknown. Anyway, Carrie Wood storms off to the patio with a glass of wine. Don’t do it, Carrie Wood! Don’t do … well, nobody else has listened to me this week, why should she? Wow, she fucking chugged that shit. Carrie Wood is like that dude from The Man Show. I guess Peter Gallagher’s right about her being fun in college. I guess her inner monologue is Phylicia Rashad saying, “Come on, baby. Chug-a-lug like you did last night!” (TM 8yearoldsdude’s favorite episode of The Cosby Show) Well, I guess you might have to return that 9-month sobriety chip from 3 episodes ago. In all seriousness, how many people really just go to rehab once? It was a good run. Carrie Wood’s 9 months and 3 weeks beats the fuck out of my dad’s 1 day after his first trip. (That’s a true story if you’ve started reading since the last time I mentioned that.) Well, I guess you can always finally ask to see D-Nozz’s Brown acceptance letter since he was allegedly “the reason” you got clean. Oh wait. Well, there’s still a half a bottle of wine under her sink. And, if you go back to rehab, you can beat the fuck out of S Club 7.

So last week it was Little Russell Crowe whose problems were whimsically solved by a slutty blonde. This week, it’s D-Nozz’s turn. Before any of this, I actually want to say something nice about him. Last week I forgot to mention that he grilled swordfish. Swordfish if not my favorite food, is certainly top 5. So even though he didn’t pay for it, good on ya for liking it, D-Nozz. Anyway, so D-Nozz thinks he’s going to plead with the Dean of Admissions and he’ll let him in Brown and meanwhile successfully avoid Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14. He apparently has not considered that his getting into Brown has no effect on all the lying he’s done. So he actually does successfully fly to Brown without spiking himself. (TM Major League) However, as he cowers, he’s intercepted by some chick yelling. He turns around, expecting 14 because he has no vocal recognition. However it’s … Paris Hilton? Allegedly, this chick is supposed to be his female best friend from Season 1 who moved away. OK, first of all, didn’t he say he had no friends? Second of all, how the hell didn’t he keep in touch with his best chick friend for 2 years? I thought even D-Nozz was above that. He sucks worse that I thought. Unless his best chick friend is like mine and just decided to blow him off. But apparently, she hasn’t. And she … OK, seriously, she REALLY looks like Paris Hilton. In the words of Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14, “Ew.” I think I like Lizzie Maguire better and Paris Hilton hasn’t even talked yet. So Paris Hilton mentions something about reading D-Nozz’s comic book and D-Nozz says it’s not his, that he traded the rights to it to Marco Polo in exchange for the rights to 14. Whoops. Apparently, it even plays on your Verizon phone. Not other phones. Only your Verizon phone. Hmm, I think I’ll pick up my Verizon phone right now and call someone. I hope they have a Verizon phone too. Shut up, sellout show! Sidekick must feel so spurned. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/11/this-one-is-for-all-suckers-who-still.html). That aside, so considering Marco Polo can’t draw, did it just have one issue? Then how does it have a pod/phonecast? And if he created a successful one-issue comic book, how come D-Nozz didn’t put that on his college application? OK, so I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m serious. This episode really is the South Park Chewbacca Defense.

So of course Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 runs into D-Nozz and Paris Hilton and immediately thinks that they’re together and that D-Nozz didn’t not want to go to Brown. He just lied so he could get with Paris Hilton. And I can’t say I blame her, since that actually kinda does make sense. D-Nozz says that’s not the case and he’ll explain everything, but Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 blows him off and says she doesn’t want to hear it. OK, so she spent the entire last episode asking for an explanation and now she doesn’t want one? I guess at some level that means she’s advanced a stage in terms of breakup acceptance, but it’s still stupid. By the way, D-Nozz, if you really wanted to tell her, you could any time. You don’t need the perfect setup. “I didn’t get into Brown” works as a greeting in this case. Seriously, this show really is a production of Moron Incorporated and is distributed by King World. (TM Jeopardy).

So D-Nozz talks to the Dean of Admissions at a student-faculty event and asks for 5 minutes of his time, which is scheduled for the next day. The Dean of Admissions looks like Ben Kingsley if he grew Superstar Billy Graham’s beard. Yeah, it’s that bad. And he speaks with a nasal English accent and is quite annoying, though still easily the lesser of two evils of annoyance in this scene. D-Nozz has brought cue cards of his speech, but Dean Kingsley isn’t interested once he hears D-Nozz didn’t get in and is wasting his time. And mine. D-Nozz says nothing from his cue cards except that he got good grades. Nice job, jackass. You’re trying to make an impression. How about showing him the allegedly successful comic book. Or mentioning it. Dean Kingsley tells him to fuck off and D-Nozz pleads with him that he has to get in because of Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14. Dean Kingsley wisely tells him that their decisions are their decisions. Thank Christ! Because if he’d fallen for that, every Felicity on the block would be scheduling a meeting with him.

But fear not! We’re not out of impossible solutions to D-Nozz’s problems. While D-Nozz was busy tanking his meeting with Dean Kingsley, Paris Hilton filled out an application to RISD (Rhode Island School of Design). I guess Paris Hilton watched that episode of Dawson’s Creek where Jack forges Jen’s college applications too. RISD is right next to Brown, so at least they got something right. However, what if D-Nozz doesn’t want to go to art school? Is Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 really that awesome? Fuck no! Paris Hilton says she gave it to an “in” she has there. Which means she totally fucked someone to help D-Nozz. Well, she is Paris Hilton. She’d fuck people regardless of whether D-Nozz was even born. Anywhere RISD is allegedly interested in admitting him on the strength of his comic. See, at least someone had the good sense to use that for his application. Except for that COLLEGE ADMISSIONS HAVE ALREADY HAPPENED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And forging an application doesn’t take 5 minutes. I wonder what Paris Hilton wrote for D-Nozz’s personal statement. “Getting into RISD is hot. My comic book that I don’t know about is hot. That guy I slept with … I mean my friend slept with to get this application seen is hot.” Hey, I have a personal statement. This whole episode doesn’t make any goddamn sense! Then D-Nozz, having potentially gotten into RISD in a day, returns to The OCk where presumably he will ignore Paris Hilton again. I bet even if he goes to RISD and 14 goes to Brown, which they won’t, he still won’t hang out with Paris Hilton. Oh well, she’s always got her “in.” Except I guess technically, she’d be his “in.”

Next week: It’s the prom. Some bitch from American Idol is on. Wow, how far we’ve fallen from The Killers and Modest Mouse and Rachael Yamagata last year. Considering my boycott of American Idol, I might have to boycott next week and let Choi recap for me. Somehow Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 has been reelected prom queen despite having no friends. Then she falls off the stage. I hope she’s seriously injured. Also, Iceman unrepentantly cheats on The Anorexic 5000 and Little Russell Crowe decides to defend her honor by throwing down. LRC, if you’d seen what I’ve seen this week, you’d come to my party celebrating her humiliation. By the way, you know what happens when Iceman and The Anorexic 5000 have sex? Besides my wanting to hurl? The Iceman cometh.

In you I confide, red dragon tattoo

2006-04-21T10:51:00.000-07:00

Still to my knowledge the best snarky song written about getting a tattoo. (http://www.fearless.blogger.com.br/reddragontattoo.htm) Mostly for the line, "Will you stop pretending I've never been born, now that I look a little more like that guy from Korn." Kudos, Fountains of Wayne. Anyway, I've found it's pretty unfair to non-OCk watchers to run back-to-back OCk recaps, and I'm not sure I'll have time to type it up today anyway.

So we're now on Day 5 of the Senor Beavis Attempted Tact-a-Thon. On Monday, one of my work friends came in with her nose pierced and it seriously couldn't look worse. OK, it could if it was a hoop or a bull ring, but it looks BAD. 8yearoldsdude and I disagree pretty strongly about whether it ever looks good. I’ve given a bit on my stance from when I wrote about this a year and a half ago (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2004/11/he-keeps-them-all-hidden-so-his-boss.html), but I still maintain it never looks good, but it’s possible for it to not look bad enough so as to be a deal-breaker. Marisol, for instance. Or I’ve actually dated a woman with a nose stud in the year and a half since I wrote that. But I digress.

Anyway, what I mean is that throwing out my prejudices, this chick’s nose piercing just looks wrong. It doesn’t work with her nose. If you saw it, you’d agree. She just doesn’t have the right nose for it. Another work friend also posited that it doesn’t go with her personality, but I don’t know about that since she seems to have a strange Madonna/whore dichotomy personality. She also added that she thought this chick was just getting it because the chicks she hangs out with have lots of tattoos and piercings and this logic would make her like 18. (Now is one of those days I’m glad no one reads this.)

So when I first saw this piercing on Monday, I almost instinctively yelled, “Holy Christ, that looks fucking awful!” And somehow I didn’t. And it’s sorta been like that for the past 5 days. I also, while conversing with her about one of her neighbors being critical of something I don’t remember, asked, “If someone was critical of your style, would you want them to tell you?” and she said no. So I didn’t. Believe it or not, I actually do have tact; it’s just a matter of choice as to whether I decide to use it. Being a not-liar, if she asked me if it looked good, I’d say no. But since she hasn’t asked, I’m trying to not tell her, but it’s really difficult. I recently defended Alex from Grey’s Anatomy’s speech about, “I tell the truth; it’s what I do,” off-site because I certainly can relate to that. On the other hand, god only knows how much trouble I’ve gotten myself in for 28 years by being perhaps “overly” truthful. But yeah, my compulsion to tell the truth for the truth’s sake (and my eyes’ sake) is certainly at war with my not wanting to hurt my friend’s feelings.

Changing gears a bit, same day as the retina-killing nose piercing, actually same conversation, since it came up that she’d pierced her nose and some people lied and said it looked good and then they were talking about the pain involved in getting tattoos and whether you’d want people who’ve gotten them to be truthful in telling you how much it hurts, and I brought up my own pain factor and got roundly disagreed with, but I stand by this. I said everyone who gets a tattoo should have to go through psychological training for it. Off the cuff, I said they should have to wear a fake tattoo and have 50 people tell them it looks fucking horrible and see if they can handle that. As said before, you can guess how many people agreed with that, but I stand by it. Throw the fact that I think tattoos look trashy out the window for a second, even though they TOTALLY do. The argument that everyone tried to make was that tattoos are “personal,” so it shouldn’t matter if other people think they’re ugly. Yeah, in theory. People can bullshit you all they want, but about 98.5% of tattoos are meant to be seen. Otherwise, it’s an “if a tree falls in the forest and no one’s there to see it” paradox. But in much more seriousness, flip it for a second. If they’re that personal (and you try to tell me a sorority girl butterfly on your ankle is personal), then people would feel pretty strongly about whatever symbol it is. So if someone doesn’t like it, they would probably take it more personally. Like if your tattoo represents your dead brother and someone says it’s ugly, they don’t know that and you’re probably gonna get pretty pissed off. Like I said, if you can ignore my prejudices against tattoos themselves, I think this makes a lot of sense.

A more realistic social argument was made a day later when I brought it up again and someone said, “Yeah, but who really tells people their tattoos look stupid.” Well, I do. But she was right. I wonder how much research has been done on this matter and the reactions it would provoke since no one apparently has the balls to do it. I think I have a thesis. Next step: Go to grad school for psychology.

Jesus, Joey! You took the man's OCk

2006-04-19T11:00:00.000-07:00

I can’t say I usually call watching The OCk a learning experience, but I did learn something from this last episode. Couldn’t we all use a magical waitress who’ll sleep with us and then solve all our family problems for us? Rock me tonight for old time’s sake. And you thought that whimsy wouldn’t fit in the realm of The OCk. Well, you’d be right. Time for Do You Smell What the OCk is Cookin’?

So I’ll pick up right where I left off last week, which is continuing to not understand this D-Nozz and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 plotline. As far as I can tell, instead of telling 14 that Brown rejected him, he essentially told her that he wanted her to go to Brown still and him to go anywhere else. Because he thinks he’s making a “selfless” sacrifice by tricking her into “the opportunity of a lifetime.” Now if you think that’s a bunch of self-righteous bullshit, you’d be right. Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14's life won't end if she goes to college somewhere besides Brown. It's not the difference between being Peter Gallagher and Iceman. She only wanted to go for D-Nozz, which is REALLY stupid because it means she’ll turn into Felicity, and no one wants that. But that also means, like she’s saying this episode, that her being there alone isn't necessarily better for her than being somewhere in CA alone. That said, if she did go to college alone, she'll be fine. She'll get over it.

So anyway, 14 can’t get D-Nozz to discuss the breakup with her, so she’s discussing it ad nauseam with Tracy Flick. To make up for all the times that she was there when Tracy Flick needed her. Oh wait. Anyway, they talk about the scene in Season 1 where D-Nozz declared his love for her, which I haven’t seen because I haven’t seen Season 1. And Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 says, “And I’ve only gotten hotter since then.” OK, I’m throwing a flag here. No, if by “hotter” you mean anorexic and actually look 2 years younger than when I gave you that nickname, then you’re exactly right. Oh, and invest in a new mirror. Anyway, they decide that D-Nozz is just scared of making an alleged life-committing decision. Well, if they were right, I wouldn’t blame him. So 14 manages to get her and D-Nozz both kicked out of class and sent to Dr. Kim’s office so she can isolate him. I’m very upset about this scene. No, not because I give a fuck about 14 and D-Nozz, but because they’re sent to Dr. Kim’s office and they NEVER SHOW DR. KIM. But they both get detention, which is actually pretty immaterial. But 14 says that since she technically administered The Cobra, she’s the only one who can rescind it. And she’s correct. Looks like she read the Bend It tract about that. So 14 declares them back together. And then D-Nozz is like, “Well, OK, then, now I’m giving you The Cobra.” Wow, 14. I think you just got Punk’d! BLAAAAAH! BLAAAAAAH! So then 14 and Tracy Flick convene again and Tracy Flick asks if he’s said it’s because he doesn’t love her, and if he hasn’t, then it’s probably because he’s scared. She raises a good point, but is forgetting the option, even though it’s not in play, that one can have plenty of feelings, but can’t deal with the fact that the other is psycho. OK, well, it will be in play in a second perhaps. 14 and Tracy Flick somehow trick D-Nozz into meeting them in the student lounge and have decorated it with balloons and stuffed Hershey Kisses. Huh? Also, how long did this take? In addition, I know this is D-Nozz we’re talking about, but any sane guy would be weirded out by this. Just saying. Anyway, 14, declares that she loves him and wants to be together forever. Why, we’re not sure. And if he can honestly say he doesn’t love her anymore, “she’ll go to Brown and be lonely and miserable and leave him alone forever.” Seriously. Why would she still go there if she has no interest in the school itself? Dumbass. Anyway, D-Nozz does tell her he doesn’t love her anymore. Wow, he’s really going far with this “self-righteous suicide” angle. And it somehow makes even less sense than that stupid System of a Down song. At least we know why they left the keys upon the table. Simple. They wanted to. So 14 goes home and cries on Tracy Flick’s shoulder and Tracy Flick declares there better be reciprocity. Well, she doesn’t, but she really should. After a heart-to-heart staredown with D-Nozz’s Johnson (that’s his toy horse, remember?), D-Nozz has an epiphany that he has to get 14 back. And the way to do this is to somehow talk Brown into letting him in. No, the way to do that is to have been honest in the first place. Oh, and not try to make 14’s decisions for her. That’s horribly misogynistic and makes him a bad boyfriend. Oh, that’s right, he already was. If this weren’t TV, I’d say that he’s compounded his lies too much to get his ass out of this. And while we’re at it, let’s pull this bus over to the side of the Continuity Turnpike. Does anyone remember how he got out of his lying about the weed by saying if he ever lied again, 14 could kill him? (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-hope-you-have-big-trunk-because-im.html) Well, at least we may have figured out the basis for all his decisions. He’s still high. Make it stop. I think the Blue Crush Memorial Cliff needs another human sacrifice.

So Carrie Wood has returned from wherever she went at the end of the last episode, but she’s still pissed. She demands that Peter Gallagher have dinner with her that night so they can talk out whatever’s going on. Hey, but what if it’s a life or death situation? Sorry, getting ahead of myself. Anyway, Peter Gallagher meets with Bongo at whatever bar Charon the Boatman hung out at early this season. Bongo’s like, “Where’s the money, Lebowski?” Peter Gallagher’s like, “What money?” And Bongo’s like, “The money you’re gonna give me or I’ll give this evidence that Mr. Green is guilty of something to the cops.” Bongo wants a shit-ton of money so he can take a lengthy vacation in Cabo, where I assume there are lots of strippers, and then start his own business in Chicago. Hey, Bongo. I could use a new job, and I don’t mind strippers. Anyway, Peter Gallagher’s like, “You don’t want to do that. Mr. Green will leave you a lot worse than dazed and confused.” Bongo’s like, “Suck it, Peter Gallagher. The older I get, those strippers stay the same age.” Peter Gallagher asks Mr. Green about the blackmail and Mr. Green’s like, “There ain’t no evidence. All he’s got is a bunch of used copies of The Wedding Planner.” But the next time Peter Gallagher talks to Bongo, Bongo says Mr. Green agreed to meet him and pay up that night and is that the course of action of an innocent man? Which coincidentally is the missing verse of that crappy Billy Joel song. Peter Gallagher’s like, “You dumb motherfucker. Both your vacation and business are gonna have a serious failure to launch. Because you’ll be fucking dead.” Bongo’s like, “Suck it, Peter Gallagher. The older I get, those strippers stay the same age.” So Peter Gallagher goes to stake out the drop, which is in an abandoned parking lot. Come on, guys. This is The OCk. You have to do it under the pier. This of course means he’s blowing off Carrie Wood for dinner and Carrie Wood is so distressed that she gets a bottle of wine from under the sink. OK, at the risk of sounding skeptical, what kind of recovering alcoholic keeps wine under the sink? You get all the alcohol out of the house, not put it in secret hiding places. Not to mention, wouldn’t someone find it there? I keep dishwasher soap and other cleaning supplies under the sink and so did my parents. This gets better. She uncorks the wine, but then her conscience takes over and she pours out half the wine and shoves the bottle back in the cabinet under the sink when she sees D-Nozz coming. So now there’s half an opened bottle of wine under the sink. Anyway, back to Peter Gallagher. Bongo shows up, as does Mr. Green. And Mr. Green’s “men.” And if I’ve learned anything from my 28 years, it’s that no one who has “men” is ever a good guy. Mr. Green’s goon squad is about to show Bongo how to lose his life in 10 seconds when Peter Gallagher jumps out of the Gallaghermobile and tells Mr. Green to let him go and that Bongo was just bluffing and that they can check the Bongomobile and there’s nothing there. Bongo’s like, “Hey, it was worth a shot. But I got nothing.” Sure enough, Bongo’s car is empty. Peter Gallagher hands Bongo a check as a severance and says it’s not what he wanted from Mr. Green, but it should help him start a business in Chicago. Meanwhile, Peter Gallagher has stolen Bongo’s files as leverage on Mr. Green. How he got them, we really have no idea. When exactly did he break into the Bongomobile? I guess in addition to occasionally being a gangster, Peter Gallagher’s also a ninja. Ninja, please! (TM Ultimate Power) Well, I guess there’s only one thing left to say. Hey, Bongo! Hit the fuckin’ road and piss up a rope! (TM Ween) And suddenly all the strip clubs in Chicago began a raucous celebration.

OK, don’t read this next part if you’re easily offended, and just remember, this is a fictional show and my “job” here is to make jokes about it. So Iceman busts into The Anorexic 5000’s room in The Carver Palace. OK, seriously, does anybody fucking knock on this show besides The Carver? Iceman says he sweet-talked the maid into letting him in, which precludes me from asking why no one locks their doors. And by “sweet-talked,” he means gave her a few lines. And I don’t mean pickup lines. But when he tries to make out with her, we’re all spared when Hot Gobette comes to the rescue. Hot Gobette’s like, “Get the fuck out!” and since Iceman is useless without his 15-year-old posse, he does. The Anorexic 5000’s like, “You want to sleep with him too.” Like I said last week, how stupid are you, 5000? Hot Gobette wouldn’t touch him. He’s poor. Well, maybe not considering his part-time construction job pays for an entire warehouse and all that coke. Hot Gobette responds by saying she forbids The Anorexic 5000 from seeing him. Well, that always works. I sure hope there’s no apothecary in The OCk. So of course The Anorexic 5000 shows up at The Iceman Warehouse and lies down on his bed. But after receiving a convenient phone call that The Anorexic 5000 isn’t in school, unlike every other day she skips school – namely all of them – Hot Gobette somehow finds out where The Iceman Warehouse is and throws open the sliding barn door. See, I told you he lives in a warehouse. Actually I think it might be the one from Season 1 of 24. Hot Gobette’s like, “You’re just like all the other douche-nozzles (TM Adam Carolla) she fucks and when she’s done with you, she’ll come home to her mom because I’ll always be here for her.” Just like when she forgot Small Wonder’s birthday because of her date with The Carver. Iceman surprisingly does not call Hot Gobette “gay.” He says he’s going out to get some beer. Seriously, how old is this guy? I’m just curious. Meanwhile, The Anorexic 5000 takes a nap. So Iceman doesn’t actually come back with just beer. He comes back with an entire booze and coke orgy. And it somehow fills up his entire warehouse. That was fast. I guess the 15-year-old posse all have one-digit phone numbers as well. Somehow, this doesn’t quite wake up The Anorexic 5000. What does wake her up is trash talk from … hey, is that Big Red (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/09/everyday-everyday-everyday-everyday-i.html)? Well, they say it is, even though I think she shrunk. And as we’ll see in a bit, I don’t know how she was able to talk to make out the trash talk. Anyway, 15-year-old Iceman goons are pouring beers down Big Red’s throat and … oh, that’s not beer. It’s an entire bottle of roofies. I didn’t know that came in beer flavor now. If The Anorexic 5000 were Veronica Mars, she would have tasered these guys by now, but as we all know, The Anorexic 5000 is no Veronica Mars. And yes, Veronica Mars really does own a taser, and used it on loutish frat boys a few episodes ago. It was perfect. So the 15-year-old roofie brigade picks up Big Red and carries her outside. Now at this point, The Anorexic 5000 should probably be a bit concerned. But she decides to sit around for a few more minutes before being all, “Hey, where’s Big Red?” Because she missed four guys carrying a tall passed-out redhead right by her. So she goes outside and finds two 15-year-old guys outside a van. She’s like, “What’s going on here?” (TM The Mountie in the South Park movie) They’re like, “Hey, gamekiller. Fuck off.” So she throws open the van and finds another 15-year-old very very very slowly undressing Big Red. She’s like, “Hey, Beavises. Get outta here.” And I guess they do. OK, these guys are officially the Worst Gang Rapists Ever. There’s at least 3 of them. You’d think they could probably overpower a skeleton. And then there would be less waiting. Hmm, I guess when Iceman briefed them on the situation, his instructions were: “Big Red – good touch. The Anorexic 5000 – bad touch.” Either way, Ryan McFadyen is probably writing emails about coming in his spandex while thinking about what would have happened. So The Anorexic 5000 runs home in tears and cries on Hot Gobette’s shoulder. And for all we know, Big Red is still in the van and when they finish their emails, the 15-year-old gang rapists will just go back. Seriously, show. All you need to do is just one scene showing what The Anorexic 5000 does with her. How long would that take? 10 less seconds of Iceman’s warehouse or Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 mistakenly thinking she’s hot? Making a good show isn’t nearly as difficult as this show makes it seem.

So the newly re-single Little Russell Crowe is having a leisurely breakfast when Carrie Wood mentions that each student gets two tickets for graduation and that LRC should invite Go Go White Sox, since it would make her so proud. Evidently, she’s forgotten the last time she encouraged him to invite her anywhere. But after a bit, he relents and decides to go to Albuquerque to track her down. Evidently, Go Go White Sox has been working at a diner. When LRC shows up there, he doesn’t find Go Go White Sox, but instead finds a waitress who’s heard all about him and seems to know everything about his life. Perhaps his guardian angel, except slightly creepy. She tells him that Go Go White Sox doesn’t work until the afternoon, so LRC goes off to … well, we don’t know, until the afternoon. This waitress looks like the love child of Hilary Duff and Crystal Bernard from “Wings.” But seeing as it’s 2006, she gets to be Lizzie Maguire. He comes back and sees Go Go White Sox, but she’s busy, so he says he’ll come back at night. So LRC goes off to … well, we don’t know, and comes back at night. But through the windows he sees Go Go White Sox kissing a guy who looks like a biker and immediately gets pissed off and blows off going to talk to her. Lizzie Maguire comes out to talk to him and says that he looks tough and has a big snake (as a pet, come on, guys), but he’s a good guy. Until he has lines, which he doesn’t in this episode, I’ll just call him Snake. And that’s only after he begged me to stop calling him Little Bastard. (I totally want to make out with myself for that one, even though only 8yearoldsdude will get it). LRC says he wants to believe it, but that every time as a kid he thought Go Go White Sox would clean herself up, she got sucked back into her alcoholic life by some loser boyfriend who’d beat her. So Lizzie Maguire, who clearly has nothing to do in her own life, takes Little Russell Crowe to a country bar for a slow dance and then a slow comfortable screw against a wall. And not the drink I learned in bartending class. Lizzie Maguire’s like, “You can do me in the morning, you can do me in the night, you can do me when you wanna do me.” LRC’s like, “Well, this is my lucky day after all.” We have no idea how old Lizzie Maguire actually is, nor do we find out. Although she bought him beer at the bar, so it’s all a little shady. Anyway, the next morning, LRC goes to Go Go White Sox’s diner and Go Go White Sox is immediately like, “Of course I’ll go to your graduation!” And LRC’s like, “What the fuck?” Lizzie Maguire told Go Go White Sox all about it. Hey, Lizzie Maguire! Not your family. I’m gonna guess that you only know Go Go White Sox’s spin on things and not LRC’s take, so you should probably shut the fuck up. Little Russell Crowe should bust out with the flying fists of fury; that'll teach Lizzie Maguire to raise her voice. So Lizzie Maguire takes Go Go White Sox dress shopping and when they return, Go Go White Sox is like, “Yeah, and I’m taking Snake.” And LRC’s like, “Yeah, so about the graduation? Give me my tickets back, give me my tickets back, you bitch!” Now it’s really easy to say LRC’s being a dick in this situation in not trusting Snake as a positive influence. On the surface he is. But given my own family history, I’ll say that if you’ve been lied to most of your life, it’s fucking impossible to just throw that switch. I mean my relationship with my dad is markedly better than a few years ago, but I still don’t trust him for shit. I don’t even fully believe he’s sober. Does that make me a dick? Maybe. But if earning someone’s trust was as easy as throwing a switch, what kind of non-complex world would we live in? Anyway, Lizzie Maguire senses trouble, probably because Go Go White Sox starts crying, which is understandable, and Lizzie grabs her wand and her fairy dust. She goes to LRC’s motel room and tells him that Snake’s clean and GGWS met him in rehab and he hasn’t had a drink in 18 years. Wait, but Go Go White Sox said earlier that she hadn’t had a drink in like 2 months. So how the fuck would they have met in rehab? Also, AREN’T YOU EXPRESSLY NOT SUPPOSED TO DATE PEOPLE YOU MEET IN REHAB?! Anyway, Lizzie Maguire then takes LRC to the diner after hours to show LRC Go Go White Sox’s locker, which is covered in pictures of Little Russell Crowe. OK, now I kinda feel bad for Cortese the Killer. Conveniently, Go Go White Sox shows up at this moment and Little Russell Crowe gives her back the graduation tickets. Oh, that crafty Lizzie Maguire. When’s she gonna come fix my family. And help me avoid the hooker. (TM … well, me, but the concept is … well, never mind). As Little Russell Crowe leaves, Lizzie Maguire kinda forcefully grabs his arm to stop him before giving him a kiss on the cheek. What was that about? That was a serious grab. Is that supposed to mean something later? Maybe that’s just the secret guardian angel goodbye and the next time a homeless guy grabs me, I should thank him for possibly changing my life.

Next episode: Little Russell Crowe and The Anorexic 5000 visit Berkeley, which Choi says I’m supposed to call “Cal,” and assumedly bond, leading us one step closer to their inevitable and dreaded reunion. Balls! D-Nozz visits Brown with the intention of getting himself in. Hey, D-Nozz, I’ve seen the movie Orange County and it fucking sucked. He also encounters some blond chick that I don’t recognize, but he does. Whatever. And Little Russell Crowe’s Baby Mama shows up with Baby Little Russell Crowe, I guess when he’s not there? Seriously, this better get wrapped up in a fucking hurry because if that fucking baby is on the show more than this one episode, I’m gonna go Elvis Presley and shoot out my TV. Meanwhile, Carrie Wood’s half-empty bottle of wine records a 14-part opus called, “Trapped Under The Sink.”

Are we not men? We're Il Divo

2006-04-17T12:40:00.000-07:00

Let's get down to business. I don't got no time to play around, what is this? Must be a circus in town. Let's shut the shit down, on these clowns; can I get a witness? (HELL YEAH!) Time for Musings!

- And like Vince McMahon should get some sort of rights on having the definitive line reading of both "You're fired" and "Kiss my ass" (you'll just have to take my word for it), I believe Dr. Dre should follow suit for "Hell yeah!"
- Huge congratulations out to Cardinal Dogboard for temporarily escaping the nefarious Dr. Law's vaunted sleeper hold to get out the post last Wednesday. Enjoy those red hot San Jose Sharks, probably for the last time.
- Speaking of, time for the Bend It Official NHL Players Marcel Goc and Jonathan Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer Watch. Marcel checked in with an assist in his 4 games, all Sharks victories, raising his season totals to 8 goals, 14 assists, and -7. Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer, however, went off. In the past week he scored 7 goals, had four assists, and chalked up a +6, raising his season totals to 56 goals, 37 assists, and +24 as the Sharks moved from 9th place in the Western Conference up to 5th. We can only hope that an epidemic of herky-jerky dancing is sweeping the Bay Area.
- Meanwhile, a happy Patriots Day to ... well, only those in Boston. In honor of the battles of Lexington and Concord, Bostonians get the day off. But not anyone else whose history may have been impacted by them. Hey, I don't hear Bostonians complaining about Chicago's made-up holiday of Casimir Pulaski Day. Good point. I'd already forgotten considering I had to work that day anyway. What's a brother gotta do to get a day off around here?
- Speaking of Boston, ESPN anchor and noted Boston apologist (he alleged referred to the Red Sox as "we" during a playoff telecast), Chris Berman allegedly has a way with the ladies. And not just Mrs. Berman. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/chris-berman/he-could-go-all-the-way-166410.php. I mean I can see how he'd be a ladiesman, considering his shtick is funny up until one turns about 15. But I guess this now brings his official list of talents to 1.
- In honor of Mr. Berman's prowess, I will impart the best baseball nickname ever on you. Choi has been working on incorporating this inside the Friendly Confines, but we've taken to referring to abominable Cubs relief pitcher Will Ohman as "Will Oh Man, He Sucks!" If he's coming to your town, well first of all, root for him to get in if you're not a Cubs fan, but also feel free to call him that. Also, in honor of Scrubs, which for all I know may or may not be still on, I've been calling Todd Walker "The Todd." He kinda looks a little like him too.
- Speaking of tired shtick on ESPN, if I never hear the phrase "Chasing History" again, I'd be cool with that.
- Speaking of baseball, Washington Nationals outfielder and noted anti-Semite Ryan Church (http://atheism.about.com/b/a/205088.htm) hit two home runs on Easter Sunday yesterday. I sincerely hope he doesn't think this is some kind of sign because the Marge Schott's Memory Lives On Barnstorming Tour is already in full swing every time he's coming to your town. God, or whatever, help us if God, or whatever, appears to be encouraging him.
- Speaking of otherworldly baseball players, Cleveland Indians rookie pitcher Fausto Carmona achieved his first major league win on Saturday. Pretty awesome, but worth selling his soul for?
- Back to overproseletyzing in sports ... well, I'll just let ESPN.com's Paul Lukas handle this one: Just when you thought you'd seen everything, check out the latest news release from the Arena Football League: "For the first time in sports history, a professional franchise will wear Bible-themed jerseys during a game. On Saturday, May 5, the Birmingham Steeldogs will don jerseys with the name of Bible hero Samson embroidered on the front. Specific Bible chapter and verse references will be created by combining the names and numerals on the backs of each player. Steeldogs offensive specialist Kerry Wright regularly wears number 1, so on May 5 the name on his back will change from 'Wright' to 'Genesis,' in reference to Genesis chapter 1. Free Bibles will be handed out, so those in attendance can search to find the Bible references on the jerseys of each Birmingham player. The Bible-themed jerseys are the latest creations of Christian Throwback Jersey Company of Birmingham. This bothers the holy hell out of me for pretty much every reason you can think of. Although I would love to be on the opposing team for that game. If anyone can get me a tape of the trash talk on the field, I bet it would fucking legendary.
- Speaking of bad fashion statements, I'd like today to name another Honorary Tourist. Someone who I don't know, has never read Bend It, and chances are never will, but embodies the Bend It spirit and is dedicated to the dissemination of the ideals of Bend It. That man is Chicago radio personality Fook (probably not his real name) of Q101. After feeling wholeheartedly alone, I finally heard someone else speak out publicly against Capri pants. Said Fook, "If you really feel the need to show off only the part of your leg below the knee, your calves, I guess, just wear a skirt." Amen, brother.
- Speaking of, time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner Part 1! The 60-70-degree weather like we had on Saturday here tends to bring out some interesting combinations of attire. I've already come out unanimously in favor of women wearing hoodie sweatshirts, but Saturday, I saw the combo of a hoodie sweatshirt and a skirt. UPGRADE!!!!!!!
- Speaking of those who could easily pull off this look to positive acclaim, a huge congratulations goes out to Veronica Mars, yes, the fictional character, for getting into Stanford. I know due to the conventions of TV, she'll never wind up going, but that's a significant accomplishment (I sure as hell didn't), and the look on her face was priceless. Not to mention I watched it from 9-10 PM (CT) last night, which during this run of non-episodes, is a perfect anathema from the George and Denny suck-fest that Grey's has been lately. Speaking of suck, I have watched The OCk and I'll set to recapping it shortly.
- Speaking of stuff jointly watched by Choi and myself, I saw a commercial on Friday during the Cubs game in which it said, "Chevrolet: Now you can get the same car that Dusty Baker and Ron Santo drive." I'm not making fun of anyone's condition, just stating a fact. I sincerely doubt that having lost both legs to diabetes that Ron Santo is going to be driving anywhere. Nice job, jimmy-hats!
- Last week, Sergio and I were having a good discussion off-site (why he never writes in is still anyone's guess, since I'm not sure what he thinks I could do to his legal career) about the dissemination of NASCAR to "Northerners." It came up since I'd been razzing the announcers for not knowing math and said it's not helping NASCAR shake an image as a "redneck sport." He said, and rightfully so, that I don't seem to hold baseball or other sports accountable for their shitty announcers. I said that's true, but I have a much longer history with these other sports so the announcers aren't my conduit into the sport. Playing devil's advocate, for instance, if my first televised baseball game were broadcast by Hawk Harrelson, I might worry that baseball was a sport for illiterate egomaniacs. Then we moved on to a really good discussion about how much NASCAR should "give" to attract Northern fans as opposed to how much the Northern fans need to "give" in terms of accepting the culture of the sport in becoming fans. Anyway, here's one thing we did agree on. According to ESPN.com, after their boyfriends crashed in last week's race, Greg Biffle (yes, his name's funny) and Kurt Busch's girlfriends got into an altercation. ESPN.com quoted Lowe's Motor Speedway president Humpy Wheeler as saying, Wives and girlfriends had a stormy history during NASCAR's early days and many have been thrown out of tracks because of their behavior." Sergio and I are issuing a joint statement declaring that neither scuffling girlfriends of crashing drivers nor associations with anyone who intentionally calls himself "Humpy" is helping any perceptions of NASCAR. It is so ordered.
- In semi-car news, JoshuaTrees, who's been disappointing silent, but has been feeding me stories behind the scenes, has decided he wants these "rims" on his registry: http://customwheel.com/custom_wheels/product_info.php/products_id/1687. I hope for the future Mrs. JoshuaTrees' sake, I don't get him the "For A Good Time Call ..." or whatever it is, ones.
- Now it's time for Sleepless Is Going To Write In and Make a Joke About How I'm Going to Be Fired. If you've been to Starbucks in the last couple weeks, you're probably intimately aware of the relentless promotion for a movie that Starbucks is helping produce, known as "Akeelah and the Bee." Now in the early stages of the promotion, I was like, "I'm scared of bees. I ain't going nowhere near that shit." Mercifully, that's not it. It's some schmaltzy Oprah's Book Club-esque story about some chick and a spelling bee. So it's bad enough with the CDs (I was stuck very briefly listening to Il Divo on Saturday, hence the title), but now Starbucks is producing the film equivalent of their CDs. I already have my extreme reservations about their multimedia interests. It's all very Globochem. (TM Mr. Show). But really, that's all we really need is a global multimedia initiative to saturate the world with product conveniently devoid of any possible edge whatsoever. That sucks. How about focusing on not having Papua New Guinea and then Cafe Estima as the coffees of the week back-to-back. Blech! Or finally finding a way to invent tasty food. Other coffee shops have done it. And if you're gonna pull this Big Brother shit about what people watch and listen to, in the immortal words of Warren Sapp, "put a jersey on!" (That's one of my all-time favorite quotes). I know playing it safe is good for business, but it's not good for respect. But that's of no concern. I'm crossing my fingers that no one will see this shitty movie because I'd love to see them sweat a bit. And by the way, the line to call me a hypocrite for working for them forms behind me.
- Speaking of movies probably not endorsed by Starbucks, I watched "A History of Violence" last night. If I have a bigger or more cohesive statement, it'll probably come after a few more days of thought, and I will certainly say I LOVED the ending, but that said, I'd already seen it a few times when it was called "Unforgiven."
- Now is the part when the free association breaks down. I can't think of a way off the top of my head to connect these last 3 items. Anyway, one would think closer music is a slam-dunk topic for an entertaining article. And I read it because I was trying to go Equal Time and give some cheap credit to Slate. I really wanted to like it. But if anyone can pull the tailfeathers off a bird in the hand, it's Slate. http://www.slate.com/id/2139937/. By the way, Mr. Engber, Goose Gossage's career was wrapped up by the time the movie Major League took off. So nice blanket statement, douche-nozzle. (TM Adam Carolla). Also, you have to have no pulse to not enjoy "Thunderstruck," even if it is used by the White Sox. Ahead of the curve as often, I used to listen to that song before my high school swim meets.
- Now for the awesomest story of the week. ATF officers who were on campus at the University of Georgia for "Project Safe Neighborhoods" training, whatever that is, "detained" a University of Georgia student dressed up as a ninja, who was on his way to a Pirates and Ninjas party. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/whimsy/the-ninja-went-down-to-georgia-166827.php. First of all, this is about the funniest thing I've heard in a while. Gotta watch out for those skinny students dressed as ninjas. Do fake throwing stars count as firearms? It's not like neo-Nazis or my dad can't but an entire arsenal in 5 minutes. Let's detain a few students in costume. Second of all, Cardinal Dogboard, am I alone in wishing we could travel back in time and have a Pirates and Ninjas party? There are just a few people I went to college with who I'd kinda like to see dressed up as either.
- And finally, time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner Part 2! Women with their blouses or button-down shirts unbuttoned just one extra button. All dressed up with somewhere to go, but a little bit casual at the same time. Just a little bit. Definitely toeing my line in between classy and a little provocative. Just enough. As in perfect. As in imagination in overdrive. As in I'm trying to talk to you and not let you know that I've almost shorted out my brain for the amount of contortion my eyes are pulling right now. (Ouch, my head hurts just thinking about it). As in UPGRADE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Who gets weaker, the king or the teacher? It's not about a salary; it's all about reality. Teachers teach and do the world good. Kings just rule and most are never understood. If you were to rule or govern a certain industry, all inside this room right now would be in misery.

Shock the monkey

2006-04-14T13:32:00.000-07:00

No, it's not "ShOCk the monkey" on purpose. I wasn't home last night and didn't get to see The OCk, so no recap until next week. However, I did witness chicks on Division Street trying to pick up cops. But that's neither here nor there at this point.

OK, so this story works a lot better in person because it's a physical joke, but I'll do the best I can with it. Tuesday evening, Footnotes and I were having spaghetti at the Wild Goose (2 hours later than usual and special thanks to Choi for letting me crash out with her and Cat Choi during the unscheduled delay), which is not a story in itself. He was telling me about his trip to Austin with Ms. Footnotes to visit her friends and her godchildren and her old hoods (and ... oh, wait, I don't have the rights to that story). Anyway, he said he was having a beer with his contact at Apple (Footnotes essentially runs IT at the Adler Planetarium, therefore, contacts at Apple) and Ms. Footnotes went to some sort of art gallery/store. Footnotes says to me, "When I found her at the store, guess what was in the case she was looking at?" Now I HATE guessing in pretty much any capacity, so I made a crack about something that was going on at the Adler, also known as the "Plan-e-arium" (TM South Park). He holds up his hand with the ring finger forward, but not enough for me to get it. Either that or this is a pretty insightful indication of where I'm at, or not at in my life. Incredibly surprised and a bit taken aback, I incredulously replied, "The Shocker?" This was a delayed reaction and in about 3 seconds, I laughed for about 10 minutes straight, easily the most I'd laughed this week. The answer was "engagement rings." Same difference.

Now for anyone reading for doesn't know what The Shocker is, I'm not going to explain it to you, although I'm sure Urban Dictionary can. As could the Wichita State cheerleaders. (http://www.themightymjd.com/2006/03/23/i-like-a-woman-whos-upfront-about-what-she-wants/).
I can't post Choi's picture of the Arizona St. "pitchfork" that she mentioned in that post because I don't have the rights to her likeness, but it is funny.

For those thinking, "Wow, that's way above and beyond your level of expertise," and, "You would never actually do something like that," the answer is no, I wouldn't. And I don't think anyone actually would (I mean for real, not the gesture), although people never cease to surprise me. So how would someone as remarkably naive as myself know about this? Actually, I think I learned it from a friend of Sergio's my senior year of college. Which reminds me of another story. On a post-graduation trip to Hilton Head, a discussion of The Shocker gesture broke out, I think because he'd just said what it was. Another friend of Sergio's from growing up in Columbus posited, "I actually know a guy who's done it." Incredulously again, JoshuaTrees asks him, "Well, did he do it to positive or negative acclaim?" The dude's response: "No, he did it to a girl." Yeah, that's still funny. And while it's a complete coincidence, I can't think of any more perfect thing for Good Friday. Happy Dead or Alive Jesus Weekend, everyone!

We're only gonna die from our own arrogance

2006-04-12T13:45:00.000-07:00

Last Friday I mentioned a character on The OCk’s saying to the woman he had broken up with that she could always talk to him about anything, and I said that even though I believe he’s sincere, it’s still sort of an unintentional F-U to the chick. Which led me to quote a song that’s come up at least once or twice on here from an album that’s come up at least 5 or 5 times on here. The song is “The Handshake” by Bad Religion from the awesome cd “Stranger Than Fiction.” Yes, I know they haven’t made a good album since, but not only is this an awesome cd, but one that holds the special distinction of good taste I helped impart on 8yearoldsdude. We used to listen to this album on our way to high school my junior and senior years and he later went and bought his own copy. Which in an incredibly cheesy way makes me proud.

Anyway, here’s the first verse of the song:

Every time you shake someone’s hand
And it feels like your best friend
Could it be that it’s only superficiality?
Without regard to well-being
Without an inkling of compromise
Handshakes are nothing but a subtle, “Fuck you.” (TM Greg Graffin)

As you might guess, this didn’t really make any sense at all when I was 17, so it kinda became a running joke. 11 years later, it makes more sense as a condemnation of the social structure that creates pseudo-relationships that are purely transactional and people see people only as a means to an end or a stepping stone. So their take is the actual subtext of the handshake is, “I own you. You’re my bitch,” while keeping up polite pretenses. OK, I was pretty fucking stupid at 17, but I understood that’s what they meant. You just don’t have the same real-world context at 17.

Anyway, that fresh in my mind Friday, I stated thinking what are some other “subtle fuck you”’s that I could think of.

Still in the context of The OCk, I already had one that’s also already been discussed here, in that if a man or a woman starts a rejection with, “You’re a great guy/girl, but …”
(http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/08/lonely-days-are-gone-ill-be-goin-home.html) Even though everyone who phrases things that way, myself included, is trying to be as cordial as possible, it really is just an added F-U. As I’ve discussed before, telling me I’m a great guy doesn’t make me feel better, since regardless on what your take is, I know for the most part I am. Saying that to someone, at least for me, just kinda feeds my own insecurities that it must be how I look or something else I’m not so confident in. As I’ve said before, I can deal with someone thinking I’m an asshole, because I’m really not, so I know they’re wrong. So in saying I’m a great guy, the unspoken last part of the sentence being that they’d rather fuck Jon Lovitz, it’s actually exacerbating damage rather than minimizing. We all do it, but it’s really only so we can sleep better at night. The person who hears it probably sleeps less because they’re up stressing about their strangely disproportionate shoulders or the width of their face or the potential millimetric changes in their waistline.

Here’s another good one before I turn it over to y’all, which is kind of a risky proposition given how busy most of you are lately. The “Excuse Me.” Every, every once in a while, someone saying, “Excuse me,” actually feels somewhat bad about what he’s doing. Like if you have to wake someone up to get out of your row to go to the bathroom on a flight. But about 95% of the time, “Excuse me,” just means, “Get the fuck out of my way.” Like if people are grabbing you and pushing past you at a concert, if they really felt bad, they would not be distracting you during the show or getting in your personal space or forcing you closer to the back of the venue. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/08/how-not-to-get-my-foot-in-your-ass.html) This came up a few weeks ago when I was at the gym waiting for a machine and someone gave me a pretty decent shove, making his way to check to see if their were any open machines on the right side of the room. Which of course there weren’t, hence my waiting. When he said, “Excuse me,” I kinda snapped back, “Excuse this!” Intentionally bad, of course, but I really just wanted to amuse myself, which I did because I’m laughing right now. But I started thinking during that workout about how completely insincere the “Excuse Me” is.

So now I’m throwing it out to y’all. What are some of the “subtle Fuck You”’s that you notice in your day-to-day life? I haven’t done a social behavior post in a while and I’m legitimately curious in what y’all have to say. And unless it’s misguided faith, I know you’ll have something to say, so let’s hear it.

Transcript of inner monologue while sitting on bench in front of the Wild Goose

2006-04-12T11:46:00.000-07:00

Hmm, my silhouette from that streetlamp kinda looks like Alfred Hitchcock ...
I don't think I'm cool with that.

Well you can close the book on Kellner ... thank God!

2006-04-10T11:56:00.000-07:00

Abiyoyo! Abiyoyo! Abiyoyo-biyoyo-biyoyo! Abiyoyo! Abiyoyo! Abiyoyo-biyoyo-biyoyo! Time for Musings!

- While mentioning Cobra Commander's presence on The OCk last week, I was tangentially reminded of this. Does anyone remember the episode of the GI Joe cartoon (I'll spare you any commentary between my watching that as a kid and my current political beliefs) where Destro made out with The Baroness? It was about the awesomest thing ever. Destro cooing sweet nothings via the voicebox. Maybe I just think too much, but how would one go about making out with a guy with a metal face? Does he have a tongue? I can't say I remember how Destro acquired his visage. Maybe I'll have to put that in the next Ask the Tourists, to come whenever we get some more Tourists.
- While we're on the subject of awkward old-school media, anyone remember the I think Bud Light commercial with "Will someone please fax me a beer?" It was bad then, it's worse now, but as VH1 might say, "awesomely bad." I doubt it was enough of a cultural phenomenon to warrant a "This Actually Happened," but it's awful close. Would it be half as comical if fax machines weren't kinda obsolete now, but were enough of a cultural phenomenon to warrant an entire Bud Light commercial? Maybe. It reminded me of a month and a half internship I had in high school where I'd get way too butt-seissed (TM Sports Junkies) to get faxes because I'd never used a fax machine before. Obsoleteness notwithstanding, I think a faxed beer might taste an awful lot like paper. This has to be on the internet somewhere. If anyone can find it, it would be hugely appreciated.
- Toss-Up: Worse -- "Will someone please fax me a beer" vs. Britney Spears' "Email My Heart."
- In other semi-technology news, evidently a device is being developed for autistic people to pick up on whether or not those they are talking to are bored or annoyed. http://www.newscientist.com/article/mg19025456.500-device-warns-you-if-youre-boring-or-irritating.html. I should get Ms. Sergio, who works with autistic students, to weigh in on this. I apologize for sounding glib, but is this going to be outstandingly helpful? Will the autistic user be like, "Holy crap, I'm being boring. I better switch to my backup story and see how that works?" I suppose that technology is usually ahead of society's ability to assimilate it, but this has really grabbed my attention. It feeds off the deal with the micromovements as discussed more famously by Malcolm Gladwell. How accurate are they? If we're all walking around with one of these, we could be offending people inadvertently, which I think most of us do enough as is. Sorry, like I said, I'm thinking too much today.
- Speaking of both boring and annoying, I happened to flip on SNL for Weekend Update in between making stew (yes, I spent my Saturday night making a beef stew. And actually chose that over other options. Say whatever you will) and Chris Kattan was on and they were asking for callbacks to his characters. Which led me to wonder, can you remember off the top of your head any character done by Chris Kattan? Because I couldn't. And then at the end, he "gave in" and did it and I was like, "Wow, not only did I totally forget you, but you still suck." I almost kinda felt bad, like, "Aw, he still thinks he's funny," but didn't know exactly who to feel bad for? Is it him? Is it the show was like, "You know what we really need? A cameo by Chris Kattan. We'll pay you handsomely," and he was like, "Fine. It's not like I'm doing anything." I know it's lame to make fun of SNL, but I'd said I was surprised they didn't bar the door to keep him from ever coming back except this is the same show that keeps putting Horatio Sanz out there. There are funny people out there. You just have to find them and not choke the life out of them playing it safe.
- In all fairness to Chris Kattan, he made me laugh exactly once. When he was the kid from Billy Elliott. And it was a couple weeks after I'd seen that. Now a callback to that I would have endorsed. But if 10 years or however long produced nothing more "memorable" than a guy who spits apples? I mean I can watch WWF for that, and that guy's actually funny.
- So a few weeks back, I said that if NASCAR was trying to shake an image as a "redneck" sport, having its announcer yell, "Let's go racing, boys! YEEEEEE-HAAAAAA!!!!!" probably wouldn't help. Evidently, they actually listened. But now he yells, "Boogedy boogedy boogedy! Let's go racing, boys!" Uh, ok. At the risk of sounding snooty, what are the chances we'll ever hear, "Boogedy boogedy boogedy, let's play baseball!" Well, Hawk Harrelson dishes out more illiterate shit in one at-bat to make up for a whole race full of "Boogedy. Boogedy." Well played, and may someone have mercy on anyone who tries to watch a White Sox game. (In all fairness, Sox radio broadcasts and Cubs radio broadcasts are equally painful).
- And speaking of, their bullpen will probably all be on the DL by June from overuse, but the Cubbies dropped a broom on the Cardinals, which is pretty damn sweet. They even got some clutch hits, which as a Cubs fan, I'm really not used to. Michael Barrett with a 2-run pinch-hit HR to tie the game Saturday and then a grand slam to win it Sunday. The bullpen getting more guys out than they did all last season. My boy Ronny Cedeno (dating back to a game I was at where he had a 12-pitch AB, then singled) hitting over .500. Hey, it beats no highlights at all, like last season. In other baseball news, the Orioles and Nationals both suck. As expected.
- Still in sports mode, time for the Bend It Official NHL Players Marcel Goc and Jonathan Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer Watch! And a great week for both. Their Sharks went 4-0 last week, and Mighty Marcel scored the game-winning goal to beat Colorado last Wednesday. All in all, Marcel had 1 goal, 1 assist, and was a +2, bringing him to 8 goals, 13 assists, and -7 for the season. Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer had 3 goals, 2 assists, and was a +3 for the week, bringing him to 49 goals, 33 assists, and +18 on the year. The best part of Marcel Goc scoring the winning goal was getting to hear the Sportscenter or ESPNNEWS anchors try to say his name. I heard "Gosh," and "Goch." But I'm sticking with "Gock." Because it's awesome.
- During my Sunday trip to the dog park, which was actually trips yesterday since I brought Zekers later in the day, I got to see the frisbee-playing bulldog, Thor. The real highlight however, was that his owner had one of those carts you can attach to your bike and strapped the bulldog into it and biked home pulling a cart full of bulldog, which can't be easy. But still hilarious.
- Toss-Up: Songs sound more of the same -- Jack Johnson or Sean Paul?
- Yesterday I was watching a rerun of Law and Order Criminal Intent, which is not out of the ordinary, but the episode contained a scam in which con artists had written an inspirational book supposedly by a 14-year-old rape survivor with ALS. Predating the whole James Frey brouhaha by a good 3 years. And it reminded me to post David Cross' James Frey parody. http://www.bobanddavid.com/david.asp?artID=191. But it also made me think again about if people are genuinely inspired by the work, exactly how important is its genesis? Is receiving the "will to live" from platitudes from a fake 14-year-old ALS-ridden rape survivor really that different from deriving the same strength from daily Bible readings? I'm not saying it's right, but people can be right hypocritical about what's "wrong."
- Speaking of "wrong," time for a Duke lacrosse update. Pretty much right after I wrote last week that nothing had happened in a few days, authorities uncovered an email from one of the players, a Mr. Ryan McFadyen (also #41), that discussed killing strippers and getting off to it. http://deadspin.com/sports/lacrosse/duke-lacrosse-case-somehow-gets-uglier-165330.php. It doesn't appear to be serious, and shows just an outstandingly poor sense of humor. (What is humorous, and I'm talking pitch-black gallows humor, is how news reporters tried to describe the content). But somehow that tipped the balance on the university canceling the rest of their season and their coach, Mike Pressler, resigning. Today, the lacrosse players' attorney claimed that they have pictures that should help exonerate his clients. http://sports.espn.go.com/ncaa/news/story?id=2403062. Our eyes continue to watch.
- Last week, 8yearoldsdude and I were having a discussion off-site about why this is such a big story for us (meaning he and myself) and we touched on that lacrosse is still for the most part, an East Coast sport, so this is more "our story" than other parts of the country. A handful of players are from the DC area, and while this doesn't really implicate us in any way, as East Coast private school grads, it still sorta does.
- In the Washington Post last week, when asked about Coach Pressler's resignation, Georgetown lacrosse coach Dave Urick said, "I think obviously what happened at Duke could've happened on any number of campuses." I've heard plenty of interviews with him from working on a school paper at Georgetown, and he won't be confused with Shakespeare any time soon. So I don't think that's what he meant, but it's a pretty fabulous accidental indictment of lacrosse players.
- Speaking of indictments, but not entirely sure of who, Bend It whipping boys Slate of course decided to follow up on their groundbreaking journalism that brought us stories that said Joe Lieberman's a Republican and VH1 has has-been celebs on their network by telling us that lacrosse players are usually kind of dicks. http://www.slate.com/id/2139536/?nav=ais. Hmm, thanks. Next up, cheerleaders are usually promiscuous. Thank you for calling, Slate. 8yearoldsdude did a good job on his site breaking down why it's a poorly written article and that the inference that since lacrosse players are kinda dicks, or at least were to this poor troubled soul of a baseball player, they must be rapists is irresponsible journalism. I, however, think it's a bit generous to call anything on Slate "journalism," but there I go being a snob. I'm probably just jealous. But it certainly irresponsible that a guy with an obvious grudge is making these connections. It's just like I'm not qualified to write a story about ESPN.com's Patrick Hruby.
- Evidently, Subway and Quiznos are having an unofficial competition as to who can make the worst TV commercials. Quiznos got word that a talking baby in adult situations might be creepier than media whore Jared Fogel. So then Subway did a little marketing research and decided that a distinctively past-his-prime leering, smoking jacketed Jon Lovitz might be able to top the talking baby. Well, you're all wrong. Jared's still the worst, but would it hurt to, oh, I don't know, just say the fucking sandwiches are delicious? Oh, that's right. They aren't, so you have to go with this shit. Shut up, Jon Lovitz!
- Oh, and even those Grey's was a repeat, shut up, Denny!
- So yesterday I saw a commercial for some eyeliner product, or some kind of makeup, that also botched its research and has the same background theme song as the omnipresent commercials for EHarmony.com. I'm not knocking Internet dating, having done it myself, but by default, this unspoken tagline for this eyeliner is, "Whatever the Name of That Eyeliner Is: For when you're meeting someone on a semi-Christian dating site."
- And finally, I heard on both Best Week Ever and then on SNL that they're coming out with some sort of coffee-flavored Coke beverage. I think anyone who's ever been to Corner Bakery with me would have to agree that I might be owed some motherfucking money.

She's going away. (She's going away.) What's wrong with my life today? (What's wrong with my life today?)
She's going away. (She's going away.) What's wrong with my life today? (What's wrong with my life today?)
She's going away. (She's going away.) What's wrong with my life today? (What's wrong with my life today?)
Stupid girl. Stupid girl.

Heed! OCk! Neeeeeooooouuuw!!!

2006-04-07T14:54:00.000-07:00

So I woke up 2 hours early by accident, but when I flipped on the TV, it was Beavis and Butthead. Mr. Buzzcut was teaching them water safety and when he asked, “Butthead, what is your problem,” Butthead replied, “I can’t seem to take my eyes off this girl’s butt.” It was awesome. Just hearing the way Mr. Buzzcut says, “Butthead” is usually enough. Then during the commercial, I changed the channel and saw Kelly Clarkson, who’s normally a decently attractive woman, with a mullet. Then of all the mysterious happenings, I heard the Doors’ “Texas Radio” on my way to work. In other words, despite poor KJ Choi paying exponential fees to freeze in the rain at Wrigley Field, it’s a great day for recapping. Time for Do You Smell What The OCk is Cookin’?!

This week’s episode appears to be sponsored by Cobra Commander, seeing as how The Cobra is out in full force. Not at all connected, I had taped this week’s 24 on an old tape and after 24, it landed right on Carrie Wood kissing Pinocchio. I hadn’t seen the dude in a year and was like, “Holy crap, that dude has a long fucking nose!”

So after Mr. Green’s Goon Squad gave Bongo and his HDTV a solid curb-stomping last week, Peter Gallagher paid Mr. Green a visit on Mr. Green’s personal tennis court. Sadly, no one takes an oath. (Yes, I’m a dork. We knew that.) Well, Peter Gallagher does say that if Mr. Green doesn’t take credit for Bongo’s curb-stomping, Peter Gallagher will make sure the truth comes out. And then what? I really don’t understand this, and this isn’t even the least-making-sense thing in the episode. Seriously, I’m gonna need some help later. Here’s what should happen. In true ‘80s movie fashion, Bongo and Mr. Green should play tennis for the rights to the hospital and Bongo’s soul. Mr. Green first denies everything, but later has an indecent proposal for Peter Gallagher. And it’s not the hospital deal for a night with Carrie Wood. However, that would be kind of awesome. Mr. Green says that if Peter Gallagher shuts his hole about Bongo, Mr. Green can hook him up with a $700 million deal for The Old Dude (Not Howie J. Reynolds) Real Estate Company to build lots of new property around the hospital. Meanwhile, Bongo visits the Peter Gallagher Palace with a proposal of his own for Peter Gallagher. And for all we know, it could be a night with all the strippers in exchange for the money for a new HDTV. But he encounters Carrie Wood and tells her to tell Peter Gallagher to drop the deal for the hospital. When Peter Gallagher gets back, Carrie Wood passes along the message and makes the obvious comparison to the way The Old Dude (Not Howie J. Reynolds) did business, and Peter Gallagher’s like, “I can’t just do that. You know it’s hard out here for a pimp.” Carrie Wood then storms out the door. Where exactly is she going? It’s nighttime. Hopping a red-eye to NY to visit Pinocchio? Damn, Gallagher. You got a whole lotta bitches jumpin’ ship. Peter Gallagher should totally cover “Whoop That Trick” on his next cd. That might be the awesomest thing ever. Remember his line reading for “little bitch?”

So The Carver apologizes to Hot Gobette for saying their engagement was “a trial” and making her feel tested. Well, OK. I understood what he meant last week, but I see it could have come across the wrong way. He then tells her he’s worried about The Anorexic 5000 and that Hot Gobette needs to talk to her after he found The Anorexic 5000’s Berkeley acceptance letter in the trash. Damn, I knew your trash isn’t your own when your own parents and college stuff is concerned, but she’s gotta watch out for the not-parents. In a related story, I once baited my parents by putting my SAT subject test results in the trash. Yeah, I was kind of a jerk at their age. Then again, everyone’s a jerk at that age. Which is why I maintain that every high school student should have mandated therapy. Anyway, Hot Gobette actually sorta acts like a good parent for once and talks to The Anorexic 5000 and asks her what’s been going on of late? The Anorexic 5000 says she really doesn’t know, she’s really just at loose ends and doesn’t know what she wants. In other words, she’s 17. Hot Gobette says to please consider going to Berkeley and that’s all she can ask. That’s actually pretty well done considering Hot Gobette A) can’t strong-arm her, and B) even if she could, it would only succeed in having the opposite effect.

So after spending the night with Iceman again, The Anorexic 5000 tells him she got into Berkeley. Iceman lives in a warehouse. And not the Dave Matthews kind. Iceman asks her to go to Baja with his 15-year-old posse on a 3-day bender. Coke and fuckin’ pot, and smack, and fuckin’ booze and drive over people. (TM Denis Leary). The Anorexic 5000 says she’s supposed to go to a College Sweatshirt Bonfire where everyone wears the sweatshirt of the school they’re going to. At the risk on interjecting some sanity here, I know it’s an ineffective plot device, but they could at least acknowledge that not everyone makes up their mind the day after they get an acceptance letter. I used the entire amount of time allotted to decide what school to go to. Anyway, Iceman declares the event to be “the gayest thing he’s ever heard.” While Iceman is correct in that it’s pretty damn stupid, I really hate when people say that. It makes you sound really ignorant. The, “I’m not a homophobe; it just means something is “lame”” defense is in fact lame. Just say “lame,” then. If you want to prove you’re not a homophobe, don’t talk like one. Iceman is a homophobe and sucks.

Rife with indecision, The Anorexic 5000 ventures back to The Carver Palace and encounters Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 and they finally break their détente. 14 says she’s been The Anorexic 5000’s best friend since kindergarten and she should be able to talk to her. And makes a good point. 14 accepts The Anorexic 5000’s apology on the condition that The Anorexic 5000 go to the bonfire. The Anorexic 5000 protests that she has no sweatshirt and 14 busts out a pink Berkeley sweatshirt she’d bought for her months ago and says she always believed in her. Aww. What’s wrong with me? I’m not supposed to endorse this cheese. I think I need to be sent to Snark Reprogramming Camp. The Anorexic 5000 calls Iceman and tells him to go suck coke off 15-year-olds’ wangs by himself and Iceman is clearly pissed when he realizes that his life has come to getting blown off by even the most fucked-up skank in The OCk. So The Anorexic 5000, as much as I hate to say it, actually looks pretty in her pink sweatshirt. And of course, the first person she encounters at the bonfire is Little Russell Crowe. LRC tells her that even though they’re not still together (until next week or the week after), he still cares and she can always talk to him. OK, I know he’s being sincere, but if you’re the one who’s been rejected, it still kinda comes across like an unintentional FU. I’m not blaming LRC, just saying it’s one of the great frustratingly unfair elements of life. Hey, The Anorexic 5000, think for yourself. Shun the handshake. (TM Bad Religion). Later, with no provocation we can see, The Anorexic 5000 wonders out loud if she made the right decision to come to the event. Well, in her defense, those guys in the Yale sweatshirts do kinda look like tools. I’d also like to say on behalf of Georgetown that I’m very happy to see no one from The OCk Prep going there. We have enough banana-grabbers (TM Arrested Development) as is.

OK, so Oregon Trail is still in The OCk. However, she’s living in Mama Crush’s house, which the buyer was in last week. Oregon Trail says something about 90 days escrow and I don’t understand it, so I think she means she let the guy see her boobs in exchange for a few more weeks in the house. Little Russell Crowe of course got into Berkeley since he’s supposed to be the smart one. Oregon Trail lets him enjoy his acceptance for about 2 seconds before grilling him on how to handle their relationship. She actually calls it “an elephant in the room.” Oregon Trail, an elephant can’t enter a room in 2 seconds. Anyway, Oregon Trail claims that she can make and sell jewelry anywhere so she can move to Berkeley with LRC. Actually, Berkeley sounds like a much better place for a jewelry maker than The OCk anyway. But yes, Oregon Trail, you can make and sell jewelry anywhere, but not necessarily successfully. And no offense, but your jewelry sucks. Anyway, Little Russell Crowe thinks that’s a delightful idea and says she makes him happier than any other chick he’s dated. Which says absolutely nothing, but Oregon Trail decides to take it as a compliment. Anyway, they decide to abruptly tell Peter Gallagher and Carrie Wood about their plans to move to Berkeley together at dinner and Peter Gallagher and Carrie Wood give the general parental reaction of disapproving shock. So Oregon Trail does what she always does at the first inkling of trouble, which is leave immediately. Which makes the busting up #1 Crush’s truck that much more out of character now. In addition to being the glam-est hippie ever, Oregon Trail may also be the wussiest hippie ever as well. I bet if she’d gone to Kent St., she would have tried to transfer. Little Russell Crowe has a talk with Peter Gallagher later and Peter Gallagher says he’s sorry he came across disapproving and he’s now cool with it. The only problem for LRC is that Peter Gallagher was planning to pay for Little Russell Crowe’s dorm and meal plan, but if he decides to live with Oregon Trail, he’s on his own. LRC says mournfully that they hadn’t considered the logistical side of it. Oh, Peter Gallagher, you sly fox. The whole disapproving approval. I think my parents studied under you. Except you sell it better. So Little Russell Crowe goes over to Mama Crush’s house of Boob-Flashing Escrow to share this disappointing piece of reality. However, he wusses out when Oregon Trail is all excited about having an inside deal on a place in an artist’s community where they can live together. Wow, Oregon Trail. Packin’ up, shackin’ up, that’s all you ever do. (TM Fleetwood Mac) And my words, I mean, Fleetwood Mac’s words, will be prophetic in 5-4-3-(hand signal for 2)-(hand signal for 1)-(big sweeping pointing gesture). (TM Wayne’s World). After like 5 minutes at the bonfire, Oregon Trail’s like, “This is what it will be like when you’re in college. You’ll have friends and I’ll be holding you back.” OK, first of all, A) you could meet your own friends, B) you could make an effort, and C) you don’t have to live together. But going from makeout to Cobra in 5 seconds flat, Oregon Trail says, “Little Russell Crowe, you’re a nice guy …” Run, LRC! Any time a woman starts a sentence with that, you’re fucked. Or the exact opposite, depending on which way you look at it. So Oregon Trail unleashes The Cobra. Wow, that was abrupt. And I fully understand the irony of that statement considering that I’ve been known to do the same. Little Russell Crowe says he’ll at least drive her home, but Oregon Trail says she wants their goodbye to be right there. Well that’s not very friendly. Always has to have the situation her way. Always dictating the terms. And I fully understand the irony of that statement considering that I’ve been accused of doing the same. Well, Oregon Trail. I guess there’s only one thing to say, and it’s something I haven’t gotten to say in a while. Hey, Oregon Trail! Hit the fuckin’ road and piss up a rope! (TM Ween)

OK, now is when I really need the help because this D-Nozz and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 imbroglio is like the Chewbacca Defense (TM South Park) of plotlines. I mean I know it’s D-Nozz, but this could not make less sense to me. OK, try to bear with me. Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 has bought herself and D-Nozz both lots of cold weather outfits for when they will assuredly both get into Brown, including his and hers parkas. As I have said in another post, I cannot think of one actual woman who’d actually want to wear the same thing as her significant other. Not only that, but D-Nozz is forced to try on some sort of one-piece pajama thing and well, unlike Choi, I really don’t want to see the clear outline of his … er, salami. I mean you can probably tell whether his sundial points east or west if you hit Pause. In the words of Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 herself, “Ew.” Anyway, D-Nozz is saved from the horror that is matching outfits and wang-tight pajamas by not getting into Brown. Though he does get the largest rejection letter envelope ever. Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 complicates matters by getting accepted. When D-Nozz finds out that 14 was accepted, he lies and says he was accepted too. Well, that makes perfect sense. No way anyone’s gonna figure that out. To use one of my favorite expressions, what exactly does he hope to accomplish by doing this? Well, not only does 14 somehow believe him, despite his incredibly poor acting, so do Peter Gallagher and Carrie Wood, who now may shepherd the title of Least Involved Parents Ever from Hot Gobette. I can’t think of any parents who would not want the acceptance letter for their files, no matter how stupid the concept is. The only one not falling for this obvious charade is Little Russell Crowe, who calls him out on it behind closed doors. D-Nozz does admit to Little Russell Crowe that he was rejected, and says he’s lying so Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 won’t back out on going because of him. OK, this is moronic for 2 reasons. First, she may not be that smart, but she’ll probably figure it out eventually because D-Nozz isn’t smart enough to perpetuate such a ruse. Secondly, you can’t make decisions for Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14. If she wants to give up Brown for you, that’s her decision. Trust me, you’ll both live no matter where you go. Contrary to popular opinion, it doesn’t define your life. That said, Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 is starting to get suspicious of D-Nozz’s ambivalent behavior, especially after an incoherent speech he gives her about how no one can really no what they want at 18. And if he meant it, he’d be right. 14 says to The Anorexic 5000 that D-Nozz is like Gollum and Brown is like The Ring and the closer he gets, the more evil he gets. OK, I’ll have to take your word for it. Then, while picking up Korean food for the bonfire, Tracy Flick takes time out from flirting with the guy who works there, who is about 30, but somehow in high school as well, to give 14 some advice on the situation. Flick says that D-Nozz is being like a gorilla that thinks he wants to stay in the wild even though Flick and 14 both know he’d be much better off in the zoo. And as much as I usually love Tracy Flick, that might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. After his chat with LRC, D-Nozz goes to Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14’s house, but she’s not there because she’s with Tracy Flick. However, D-Nozz sees that 14 has made a giant college with pictures of the two of them and pictures of Brown. We have no idea what effect this has on him because the next part continues to make no sense. D-Nozz, 14, and Tracy Flick all meet up at the bonfire. Tracy Flick has brought her Korean boyfriend from the restaurant. Yay Tracy Flick! Someone’s getting some Kama Sutra lovin’ before he goes to Stanford. 14 notices that D-Nozz isn’t wearing his Brown sweatshirt and D-Nozz says he needs to talk to her. However, instead of saying he didn’t get into Brown, D-Nozz says he’s decided he doesn’t want to go to Brown, but really wants Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 to still go because it’s “the opportunity of a lifetime.” Once again, what exactly does he hope to accomplish by not just saying he got rejected? I could not possibly understand this less. Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 thinks this must be about her and the reason D-Nozz doesn’t want to go to Brown is to get away from her. So she administers The Cobra. While she’s been St. Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 for a few episodes now, she manages to break her streak here by being a bad girlfriend. If she takes D-Nozz at his word, which she shouldn’t, but if she does, she might consider discussing it with him rather than breaking up with him and storming off. Hey, I changed my mind about where I thought I really wanted to go. Despite the fact that he’s lying, it’s perfectly reasonable that he could have as well, especially given his attachments to his family and to Little Russell Crowe. If Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 really had her heart set on D-Nozz being the one, as she claimed all episode, she would have been there for him. Instead, she goes home and rips up her collage. Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 sucks. So does D-Nozz. But then again, we knew that already.

Next week: Hot Gobette and The Anorexic 5000’s relationship goes sour again as Hot Gobette objects to Iceman fucking The Anorexic 5000 in The Carver Palace and The Anorexic 5000 responds that Hot Gobette is probably just jealous and wants to sleep with Iceman. No, you stupid whore. Hot Gobette wouldn’t touch that shit. Because he’s poor. Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 makes some sort of plea that if D-Nozz can say he doesn’t love her, she’ll go away forever. No, you stupid whore. This isn’t about whether he loves you. It’s about … well, Christ, I don’t know, but it’s not about whether he loves you. And Little Russell Crowe wants to reconnect with Go Go White Sox before his graduation. I hope Shasta’s not reading next week since White Sox fans tend to not have a sense of humor about themselves.

Meanwhile, Happy Gilmore was spotted gleefully bull-dancing into the sunset

2006-04-06T15:29:00.000-07:00

So Monday I promised an update on Bend It non-reader Barker's Beauty's trip to The Price Is Right, given that the show is one of the great unifiers I can think of. When sent a mass photographic update by the belle in question Tuesday morning, I discovered, to my dismay, that her trip to the studio was greeted with this:

Well, I suppose that is the occupational hazard of having a reanimated corpse hosting your show. I wonder if "pulled a ligament in his foot" is the new euphemism for "giving a deposition for another sexual harrassment trial." She said that they allegedly sent out an email saying the same thing, but of course, vacation travelers rarely check their email. And thus, a dream was deferred, and a national TV audience was denied the opportunity to witness this potential gem:

(TM Barker's Beauty for the content and design)

My official response when confronted with this creation? Note to self: Build Plinko board!

Crosseyed and pointless

2006-04-05T10:55:00.000-07:00

So I initially had today scheduled for a Duke lacrosse story update, except that nothing really has happened in the last couple days in this story. However, while contemplating the situation and its implications over the weekend, I was reminded of two separate extraordinarily tangential incidents that I’d forgotten about, but somehow my memory was triggered by Duke lacrosse. I cannot state more strongly that this is purely a free associative post and I am in no way equating alleged racially-motivated gang rape with underage drinking or accidental death. It’ll make sense in a second, just tossing the disclaimer early. There is no connection.

My first job out of college, the one before this one (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/03/thats-schadenfreude-dude.html), was working for a local paper where I was treated very badly. Not by my supervisor, who still writes job recommendations for me, but by the management. Essentially, I was working for under minimum wage under the agreement that I’d be handed a staff job when it was put through the powers that be. This dragged out a few months and I actually wound up getting laid off. As far as poor management decisions, I’ll just say that after I was gone, a paper that a good deal of its money on local high school sports, cut its Monday edition.

Anyway, this is not the point of my story. While I was there, I managed to get myself in trouble for a decision I made not to report a story. I was covering high school field hockey at the time, and found out through the grapevine, that 4 or 5 players from one of the most prominent teams had been suspended for being caught drinking underage at a party. A couple weeks after I found this out, it showed up in the Washington Post and other local papers and I got in trouble for missing this story. In fact, I didn’t miss it; I just ate it. I didn’t think high school athletes getting busted for underage drinking should really be in the paper. I was like, if you’re in college, you’re technically an adult, you’re representing the university, but if you’re in high school, you’re just a kid. They have enough problems with their parents, their coach, and the school and don’t need it in the paper. Of course, that’s not an argument that will hold up in court. Technically, high school athletes are representing their school, but it seems kind of unfair that if a whole shitload of kids got citations, only the field hockey players make “news.” Would I have done the same thing now? Don’t know. Sometimes context is everything. Of course, my editor wrote a mention of the suspensions into a game coverage story I’d done, but at least it was only as explanation as to why the team was shorthanded and not salacious.

What was the “trade” I got for my reprimand? I actually got a lot better access for the next couple weeks before I was laid off. Their coach personally thanked me for letting it go. Other coaches were nicer to me probably because they’ve been or could be in similar situations. And the suspended players actually helped me with the stats for one of their team’s games I was covering. (As much as I hate stereotypes and finding out they’re true, of course the suspended players were the team’s most attractive. I don’t mean that to sound like a pedophile, and I was also a lot younger at the time, but that whole the pretty girls grow up quicker is totally true.)

As previously mentioned, I have no particular point in telling this story other than that I’d forgotten about it for 5 years until last week. And it’s a curiously blurry line over what deserves mention just as it is where the tipping point lies as to what deserves official condemnation and when. Semi-ironically, I’d had a substantial disagreement with my editor around the same time for writing that a field hockey goalie had misplayed a shot. He’d said they’re just kids and their families are reading and I should rewrite it to make it into a good play by the shooter rather than a bad play by the goalie.

Also unrelated, but I think it just came to mind where it comes to a complex story involving a large group of players for a collegiate athletic team, near the end of my senior year of college, a student accidentally died after being knocked to the ground and hitting his head on the asphalt during a fight with several members of the university’s soccer team. Now I wasn’t there and the exact details of what happened never came out, at least not while I was in school. So we don’t know how it happened aside from that both sides were drunk.

Needless to say, it became quite a topic of controversy as to how the university should handle it and how it was spun. The names of whatever soccer players were involved were never released, if ever found out. As far as I know, the team didn’t suffer any repercussions that I knew about and did not have protestors outside its doors. Like I said, I’m not at all trying to equate the two, but someone was dead, so you never know. Throw into the murky mix that the dead man was, by many accounts by reliable sources, a total dick.

The university, I suppose as diplomatically as they could, addressed the situation as an accidental death, which it probably was, but also often labeled it a “tragic accident.” In the course of political correctness, this probably did not cause nearly as much controversy as it should have. I would have to reserve the word “tragedy” for either shit that’s truly under no one’s control. Hurricane Katrina or the tsunamis would be tragedies since, regardless of the administration’s role, you can’t do anything to prevent Mother Nature from dropping a shitload of rain on you. Or a massive earthquake. That’s the tectonic plates and you can’t do anything about it besides not live near a potential epicenter. A wasted college kid deciding to fight the entire soccer team is unfortunate, but not tragic. I’m not saying he deserved to die, but he certainly put himself in more of a position than the hurricane victims.

The next year, after I was gone, the university and the friends and family of this dude (who I’m not naming because what’s the point?) build a memorial monument dedicated to this dude and the word “tragedy” was tossed about a ton and people wrote in their memories and lots of tears were shed. A friend of mine from the school paper I worked in wrote a counterpoint saying he doesn’t deserve the accolades. That he died in the process of being a gigantic dick and basically was unworthy of the attention. I gotta hand it to this guy, that takes king kong balls. Because while I never got to see the reaction, he probably got hammered. I don’t know if I would have done the same thing, but I certainly supported the fact that someone had the balls to say it. Just like the previous story, I don’t really have a point here. Just that it’s a blurry fucking line.

Rob a jewelry store and tell them suck on my balls

2006-04-03T13:30:00.000-07:00

When the forest burns along the road. Like God's eyes in my headlights. When the dogs are looking for their bones. And it's raining icepicks on your steel shore. Well I'm gonna break. I'm gonna break my ... I'm gonna break my rusty cage ... and run. Time for Musings!

- How excited was I to hear "Rusty Cage" on the radio last Thursday? For my money, it's probably the second rockin'-est song of all time. (In case you were curious, #1 would be "Voodoo Child" by Jimi Hendrix). The part where they break it down into a slow grind and then sing the part above, seriously, I can't do it justice with superlatives. I'm really surprised that some enterprising rap artist hasn't decided to use that as a backing track. Because seriously, you could read the dictionary over that track and it would be awesome. And in the right hands, forget about it!
- Today is Opening Day for baseball, which seems a bit off only because I think it's still February. Anyway, my beloved Cubs, Orioles, and even Nationals will all suck equally this year, so it's hard to get too excited. But I'm trying. OK, so they won't suck equally. The Nationals will be the worst team in Major League Baseball.
- If you're looking for something else to root for today besides baseball, I have a friend, previously unnamed because she doesn't read Bend It (although she should since she erroneously believes me to be the funniest man alive), who has tickets to The Price Is Right taping today. So I guess she'll be temporarily tagged Barker's Beauty (not her real name) if she ever resurfaces on Bend It. She asked for help on what to wear to the show, and sadly did not take my suggestion of a shirt advertising Bend It, or a shirt featuring Swiper, which would have been pretty fucking hot. I haven't yet secured the rights to her design, so I can't show you yet, but rest assured, it's good. She'll either be on April 25 or 26; I'll let you know when I find out. Hopefully, I'll get a ride in the NEW CAR!!!!!!
- Speaking of non-Bend It reading friends, my friend Fargo (not her real name) inadvertently foiled my diabolical scheme on Friday by volunteering her way into the Coldplay concert here in Chicago, working for Oxfam, the world poverty relief charity of which whimperer Chris Martin is the face. This forced me to abort all plans to blow up the United Center on Friday. I'll get you next time, Gadget, next time! For the record, she said of Mr. Martin, "he is very short and kind of funny looking in real life. NOT what I expected." That's what I expected, but no one asked me. She also said he, "sort of prances around on stage, which is rather endearing." Well, I guess that makes one of us. And she finds Coldplay's balladry "sweet," rather than hurl-inducing. Which is too bad. I'd say this may be grounds to end our friendship, but if I were only friends with Coldplay-haters, it would be a lonely life. Balls!
- Speaking of Coldplay concerts, after much deliberation, I think I've reached an answer on the Coldplay concert vs. Larry the Cable Guy dilemma, death not being an option. In an upset win, I think I'd take the concert, on grounds that I could probably meet women there.
- Speaking of Larry the Cable Guy, well, I could take up an entire post disassembling this jimmy hat, but David Cross has already done it for me. And probably better. http://www.bobanddavid.com/david.asp?artID=183.
- Speaking of entire posts that got covered for me, I was going to type up a Duke lacrosse case tomorrow, but 8yearoldsdude, my brother in covering this story (and in real life too), capped it pretty nicely over the weekend: http://8yearoldsdude.blogspot.com/2006/03/lynching-oj-george-ws-dwi.html. We both seem to be trying to reserve judgment until more evidence comes out. As in not reports from people drunkenly rolling on the lawn next door. Which is admittedly incredibly difficult given the gratuitous obstruction of justice and reports of the lacrosse players allegedly using racial slurs and shouted at protesters, "You know you want some too!" (Sadly, I can't find the link to the story that said that today). I'd love to say I'm reserving judgment because I hope they didn't do it, for the sake of my belief in humanity, because a racially-motivated gang rape is indefensible. On the other hand, the prospect of falsely accusing a very easily unlikable target isn't much better, since as much as we'd like to pretend otherwise, these lacrosse players might be people too. For another good recap of the situation, check out the continuing coverage by ESPN's Greg Garber: http://sports.espn.go.com/ncaa/columns/story?id=2392159&lpos=spotlight&lid=tab5pos3.
- One thing I will mention not connected to any truth or lies is that as much as I pimp Deadspin on this site, I really disagreed with their decision to post the Duke lacrosse roster last week. For those not involved, or for all we know weren't even there, having your names villainized as potential rape suspects seems markedly unfair. Then again, no one's even lifted a finger to alibi himself as not being there, but still. The names will come out with the charges, and as heinous as the charges are, I think we should be able to wait until then. Save the eggs for the houses that may have earned them.
- Speaking of Deadspin on a better note, leave it to them to quickly put up perhaps the best SportsCenter commercial since Charlie Steiner was traded to Melrose Place. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/espn/ill-have-him-secured-any-minute-now-164576.php.
- Before our usual Monday Grey's Anatomy chat, I'd like to announce that since no votes were cast on the proposed Nurse Olivia rule, I'm going to use both. Now one may drink every time Nurse Olivia's on the show and every time someone mentions "The Syph."
- Time for Bend It Grey's Anatomy chat. While I've been disagreed with already, I thought last night was pretty boring. Props to Meredith for having a sense of humor about herself for once and saying Cristina could get George to leave by sleeping with him and then crying in the middle. While it was nice of George to give a very fair depiction of Meredith to her dad (besides that she needs to shut up a lot, especially her voiceovers), I wouldn't consider that much of a revelatory moment since we know if he actually hated her, he wouldn't run away all the time, he just wouldn't care. Speaking of George, Dr. Torres said George is "strong?" Exactly what show is she watching? Speaking of, Dr. Torres needs to sue whoever's doing costume and makeup because now they've made her scary. Is this intentional? OK, shut up, Denny to some large exponential power! I keep saying that Izzie knows nothing about him except that he hits on her and last night was more painful than usual. Evidently, the way to Izzie's heart is just to repeatedly ask for sexual favors. He may out-robot The Anorexic 5000. Seriously, hurry up and die! Although the prospect of Izzie getting bitch-slapped by Dr. Bailey over this next week is making me want to set my clock ahead one week. In other thoughts, suck it, Cristina! And if Shonda Rhimes runs out of themes for Meredith to wax cringe-inducingly tritely about, will the voiceovers stop?
- Speaking of cringe-inducing, I know I've sounded off about my visceral hatred of Extreme Makeover Home Edition. I mean seriously, what kind of person would want to watch a show where poor people's lives are bought and sold by a cokehead carnival barker for the purpose of cheap emotional payoffs to a painfully uncritical audience? So needless to say, reading this doesn't make me any madder because it only confirms what I already know, but if you wanted my take in writing from the show itself, here goes: http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/0327062extreme1.html.
- Speaking also of cringe-inducing, on a recommendation whose identity I will protect, I tried watching "The Loop." It sucks. And sucks in a very off-putting way. As in it thinks it's a lot funnier than it is. So it comes off smug to the point that it makes Tom Cruise look sincere.
- Speaking of smug, nice of Lindsay Lohan to cover up for the Kids Choice Awards. I mean sure, we're sorry that the 35-year-old cokeheads (and seriously, why do cokeheads keep coming up lately?) you generally date weren't in the audience, but wishing doesn't make it so. http://www.thesuperficial.com/archives/2006/04/03/lindsay_lohan_flashes_children.html. Also, nice fucking dress. My mom wants her curtains back.
- Speaking of wastes of space, I am very happy to report that Ryan Seacrest and Teri Hatcher are allegedly dating. (http://www.thesuperficial.com/archives/2006/03/29/teri_hatcher_and_ryan_seacrest.html) This is great news for all upstanding men and women who will now hopefully not have to be subjected to either. I endorse a speedy wedding and a long life together.
- Yeah, so my general free association pattern is kinda shot today. But if you ever happen to stumble on Giada De Laurentiis' "Everyday Italian" when her Aunt Raffy is on, I highly recommend watching. It's highly compelling television. Aunt Raffy is Giada's Kryptonite and they both know it. Giada totally tries way too hard and is a bit condescending when Aunt Raffy is on because she wants to upstage her. Meanwhile, every look from Aunt Raffy just screams, "Shut up, you stupid whore! This should be my show." Yeah, Giada's mom got the looks between those two sisters and you can tell it still bugs Aunt Raffy. Sure, it may be all acting, for all we know, but it's well worth your 1/2 hour.
- I need to give props to Footnotes, who said of the Natalie Portman SNL clip, that Andy Samberg coming out in a Viking suit ruins it. I said, "How can a guy in a Viking suit possibly ruin anything?" He said, "Just watch it." I did (http://www.nbc.com/Video/videos/snl_1439_natalieraps.shtml) and he's exactly right. It totally blows the entire tone of the piece. Well played, Mr. Footnotes.
- The Fashion Corner was dealt a crushing blow on Saturday by the fact that I don't have a digital camera. I went to the Art Institute of Chicago student graduation show on Saturday to see JoshuaTrees' sister's exhibit as well as many others and to say it was hipster fashion central would be the understatement of the year. Unfortunately, I can't even begin to do some of these outfits justice. We may have to take up a collection before next year's show because I would have had enough DOWNGRADE's to last me through 2009.
- And finally, time for the Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner we do have! As I was walking to the gym on Friday, I noticed, standing slightly out of a crowd of her slightly more demure friends, a rather well-endowed blond wearing a black tube top (booooooo!), an almost unnoticeably short skirt, and FMEs (TM Daniel Kaufman for the nicely euphemised abbreviation for "F-Me Boots.") I was like, "What exactly do you hope to accomplish by wearing this?" It's 6 PM. Who is she planning to pick up at 6 PM? Not that I'm her type anyway and that I wouldn't drop a DOWNGRADE on the ensemble at 1 AM just as easily, but context should never be overrated. DOWNGRADE!!!!!

If I could take the fire out from the wire, I'd share a life and you'd share a life. If I could take the fire out from the wire, I'd take you where nobody knows you and nobody gives a damn.

OCk 'em out the box, Rick!

2006-03-31T14:11:00.000-08:00

OK, I almost was going to hold this recap because I want people to write in about Magnolia. So if you have thoughts, don’t let the fact that it’s not at the top of the page, stop you.

Anyway, so Footnotes said my recaps were “obnoxiously long.” Guilty as charged. But it did remind me of a new game for OCk readers. Try to figure out at what point in the recaps I get physically tired of typing and just go John Grisham gloss-over the rest. Time for Do You Smell What The OCk is Cookin’?!

OK, for what it’s worth, I actually kinda enjoyed this episode. And I’m going to lead off with my favorite part. And it actually involves D-Nozz, through no contributions of his own, though. Peter Gallagher has broken his romantic evening plans with Carrie Wood and in a surprising show of awareness, D-Nozz steps up and offers to hang out with Carrie Wood in his dad’s place. Carrie Wood actually says the same thing I did, which is, “Wow, you actually acknowledged you have a mom.” Poor Carrie Wood. She has nothing to do with no Peter Gallagher, D-Nozz, or Hot Gobette. In a less surprising show of non-awareness, D-Nozz takes her to see a kung-fu movie in the theatre. Way to look for the common ground, there, Nozzle. But Carrie Wood at least appreciates the time spent and says next time she gets to choose the venue. And the venue is an AA meeting. D-Nozz flips out and is like, “Why haven’t you told us you go to AA meetings?” to which Carrie Wood responds, “You never asked.” Point for Carrie Wood. By the way, D-Nozz, exactly where do you think recovering alcoholics go? Carrie Wood refuses to leave and says this group knows more about her than even her family and she wouldn’t be where she is without them. Yeah, suck on that, D-Nozz! So they’re listening to the members speak, and D-Nozz starts making fun of the AA members. Shut up, D-Nozz, to about the 8-millionth degree! What the freaking heck is D-Nozz’s problem? Show a little fucking respect for the venue! If I’m in church for a wedding, I don’t yell, “Fuck God!” When you go to your support group for people who like Death Cab For Cutie … ok, bad example. Anyway, Carrie Wood kinda tells him to shut it and then is awarded her 9-month sobriety chip, which is why she wanted D-Nozz to come. Carrie Wood tells the meeting that D-Nozz was her reason for getting sober because of the look of disappointment on his face during her intervention. Hmm, I hope Peter Gallagher doesn’t have that on tape. But D-Nozz finally relents a bit and gives her a big hug. I actually kinda feel bad that I’ve never been to a meeting with my dad. And since I never for once considered that the fucking OCk would make me think about something of consequence in my own life, I have to give the credit where the credit is due. Well played, show!

So last week, Mr. Green gave Peter Gallagher the choice of firing Bongo or tanking the hospital deal that no one cares to understand. And today, Peter Gallagher administers The Cobra. (By the way, if I ever get fired, I want Vince McMahon to say it. I’ll have to get a sound clip of him saying it. It’s truly awesome). OK, at the risk of defending Bongo, I have to say that Peter Gallagher firing him is kinda the same thing as Major League Baseball launching an investigation into steroid use after condoning it for the last 10 or so years. I mean Peter Gallagher, when he was in gangster mode, was the one who pushed Monkey Licker on the proposal while they were out to dinner. (http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2006/03/dont-stick-your-ock-in-these-holes.html) Bongo, however, does not mention this in his own defense because … well, Bongo isn’t really that smart. What he does counter with is that Bongo claims Mr. Green is dirty and takes all kinds kickbacks from … well, Bongo doesn’t say. Thanks, Bongo. Peter Gallagher, channeling Adam Sandler in The Wedding Singer, is like, “This is something you could have brought to my attention YESTERDAY!” And Peter Gallagher has a point that Bongo’s timing with this accusation is pretty abysmal. But Peter Gallagher, back to beacon of morality, asks Mr. Green about it and Mr. Green’s like, “The dude just got shit-canned. What do you expect him to say?” But after dinner, Peter Gallagher finds Bongo taking files from his office and is like, “Bongo, what in ze hail are you doing?” and Bongo’s like, “These files are my proof that Mr. Green’s dirty.” Huh? Peter Gallagher’s like, “Once again, something that could have been brought to my attention YESTERDAY!!!!” (TM Adam Sandler in The Wedding Singer) Bongo takes his files and is like, “You’re goin’ down, Riley!” (TM Emilio Estevez in The Mighty Ducks) Hmm, actually Bongo does look a little like Emilio Estevez. What was I smoking with the Matthew McConaughey? So Peter Gallagher asks Mr. Green again and Mr. Green’s like, “OK, I’ll handle this douche,” and Peter Gallagher’s like, “I think there should be some, “Dun dun DUNNNNNNNN” music behind that statement.” And sure enough, Mr. Green’s goon squad breaks into Bongo’s den of iniquity and gives Bongo a rabid curb-stomping and then proceeds to systematically destroy (TM Gorilla Monsoon) the place, including all Bongo’s flat screen TVs. As far as we know, the strippers in the closet were unharmed. When Peter Gallagher shows up at the Bongo Palace to talk to him, probably about his suspicions, he finds Bongo in a shambles (TM Barry Bonds, that fucking douchebag) and Bongo tells him what happened. Peter Gallagher gives this look like he’s about to put on his cape, tights, and mask and go out crusading for good as Gallagher Man. Well, at least we’ve got that to look forward to.

So last week, Little Russell Crowe and Oregon Trail got it on. And believe it or not, they actually want to get it on again. However, they seem to have 2 obstacles, namely D-Nozz and The Anorexic 5000. D-Nozz more actively, The Anorexic 5000 more passively. As in once D-Nozz and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 discover The Anorexic 5000 making out with Iceman at The Peach Pit After Dark (bad form, get a room!), they want to enlist Little Russell Crowe for what 14 calls a “slut spiral intervention.” Well put, 14. But D-Nozz happens to try to enlist LRC while he and Oregon Trail are getting busy, therefore “precluding the shit out of that tool getting any from [Oregon Trail].” (TM The Onion) D-Nozz is VERY lucky that Little Russell Crowe doesn’t punch him. Even though LRC’s like, “I don’t give a rat’s ass,” Oregon Trail leaves. Damn, you have a quick trigger, Oregon Trail. Then the next day, while they’re at The OCk Diner, LRC and Oregon Trail overhear Iceman’s posse, who look like they’re 15, talking about Iceman nailing The Anorexic 5000. Oregon Trail gets weirded out and they leave again. But not before Little Russell Crowe goes back and tells Iceman’s Crew (they’re no Wade’s Crew) that he wants Iceman to meet him under the pier the next morning. The next morning, Iceman shows up and is like, “I KNEW I’d make you mad. Boo-ya!” Little Russell Crowe’s like, “Mad? I’m just glad there’s someone to take her off my hands. I’m not watching out for that stupid bitch anymore. She’s all yours.” Hey, Iceman. I believe you’ve just been Punk’d! BLAAAAAH! BLAAAAAAAH! (TM Ashton Kutcher) Little Russell Crowe goes back to Oregon Trail who tells him that she’s successfully sold Mama Crush’s hizouse and now has no place to live, so she’s going back to Oregon. Little Russell Crowe wants her to stay, but obviously doesn’t tell her forcefully enough for Oregon Trail to be happy. Oregon Trail says that LRC isn’t at the right point in his life to make any commitments, especially ones that she’d have to rearrange her life for. And she makes a damn good point, even if she doesn’t mean it. I would like to point out that Oregon Trail is wearing a very low-cut shirt in this scene in conjunction with a push-up bra and we are now aware that she has an amazing rack. Wooooo-donga! So Little Russell Crowe’s all sad and goes back to talk to D-Nozz and D-Nozz says you might want to tell her to stay and it’s about time you did something for yourself after 2 interminable years with The Anorexic 5000. He makes a good point. If I dated The Anorexic 5000 for 2 years, I’d probably chop off my foot to meet someone normal. So LRC gets a bunch of flowers and goes to her door, except she’s already left. And I’m now watching every romantic comedy movie ever made. Except little Russell Crowe isn’t the one who does a cross-town chase to the airport/train station/bus depot/helipad. It’s The Anorexic 5000, who emerges briefly from her drunken and Iceman wang stupor to save the day. She miraculously chooses the bus depot and tells Oregon Trail that she makes Little Russell Crowe happy and therefore needs to stay. Wow, she’s almost human. It’s like the end of Blade Runner. So Oregon Trail stays and Little Russell Crowe finds her in his bedroom and they finally get it on again! Yay! Oh, and she’s still wearing the same shirt. Double yay!

OK, so the opening scene in the last plotline was already covered with D-Nozz and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 discovering the gruesome twosome of The Anorexic 5000 and Iceman. So The Carver and Hot Gobette invite The Anorexic 5000 and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 to dinner at The Carver Palace to announce that they evidently are engaged. Hmm, so that’s how many weeks? This led to me trying to calculate as to how many women I would have been engaged to if I went by Hot Gobette-Carver logic. Fortunately, I did not follow this process to completion. Anyway, Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 is very excited. I’ve pegged 14 as a horrible person for pretty much the entire time I’ve been recapping, and for the most part she is. But I do have to give her a lot of credit for really trying to make Hot Gobette feel accepted. She could easily be a bitch in the situation, but instead is super-nice. On the other hand, The Anorexic 5000’s like, “Fuck this. I’ve got a wang to suck.” In The Anorexic 5000’s defense, she thinks Hot Gobette is just chasing the money. And she’s right. Whatever Hot Gobette says about that they’d live together in The General Lee if they had to is total bulstrode. But she could stand to be a lot nicer to The Carver, who let her stay in The Carver Palace for 9 months. Anyway, The Anorexic 5000 runs off to “ride Iceman’s big ol’ hog.” (TM Weevil from Veronica Mars) Well, that too, but she gets on his motorcycle. Ironically, The Carver was serving pickles for dinner. The next morning, she wakes up in her underwear and OH MY GOD, I’M BLIND AGAIN!!!! (TM Al Bundy) But she’s awakened by a knock at the door by Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 who tells her to get her shit together and come to school. After 14 is successfully shooed, Iceman blows pot smoke in her mouth and says, “Wake and bake; it’s the best cure for a hangover.” Seriously. That was the line verbatim. Somehow I think Iceman may secretly be Go Go White Sox’s kid instead of Little Russell Crowe. And it’s a tough day at school for The Anorexic 5000. First Little Russell Crowe gives her a disapproving look when he discovers her carrying around a flask at school. Then, while she’s trying to peacefully drink on school grounds, Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 gives The Anorexic 5000 the business and tells her she knows about Iceman. The Anorexic 5000 snaps back, “Well aren’t you just Veronica Mars, solving the mystery of the week.” Yay for Veronica Mars! I mean, it’s not like I say every week how much better that show is than this one. And 14, I watch Veronica Mars, I fantasize about Veronica Mars, and you, my dear, are no Veronica Mars. 14 tells her to snap out of it and quit drinking and fucking Iceman. The Anorexic 5000 responds by saying that Little Russell Crowe has a new girlfriend and 14 has D-Nozz and Hot Gobette has The Carver and that she’s bored and lonely. Now comes the best part. 14 responds, “Oh, you're just the saddest girl in the world! Grow up, get over yourself, and take a shower!” Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14, I am now obliged to be nice to you for the rest of this episode. Maybe some of next. That was AWESOME. The Anorexic 5000 shoots back, “Well, why don’t you get back in Daddy’s Beamer and go back to your little emo boyfriend.” OK, round one of this Smack Off is gonna have to go to Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14. 3 trophies for The 14! (TM Homestar Runner)

Now The Carver and Hot Gobette have Engagement Dinner 2.0 planned, but The Anorexic 5000 blows this off too. Hot Gobette is very worried about her. And even more worried after The Carver tells her that this engagement “is a trial, to see how our families fit together.” Ring, ring! Hello, The Carver and Hot Gobette? It’s Living Together Before Getting Engaged. Perhaps you could have used my services. That said, I actually like that this time The Anorexic 5000’s antics actually could potentially have consequences for somebody else, rather than everything just wrapping up for her in a tidy package and her problems being purely self-contained. Hot Gobette is clearly shaken and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 tries to comfort her. Like I said, she’s having a good episode. Now The Anorexic 5000 have gone to hang out with Iceman of course, except Iceman keeps asking her all these pesky questions. She’s like, “Since when do you care?” Since LRC essentially bequeathed her sorry ass to him. Iceman actually says he wants to treat her right. And when I stopped laughing 30 minutes later, The Anorexic 5000 says, “If I wanted to be treated right, I wouldn’t be here with you.” As I said last week, yes, this pattern of behavior in women is probably why I’ll die alone. But at least The Anorexic 5000 is aware of this, which actually puts her ahead of 99.9999999 barred % of women out there. Put down your weapons; you know I’m right. So Iceman’s like, “Sweet! That caring stuff is exhausting.” And then he offers her what he calls “a bone.” Now I don’t know much about drugs of any sort, except on TV, but I’d always learned a “bone” was another term for a joint. Except this is a vial. And I’m officially confused. The Anorexic 5000’s like, “A vial? Run away!” And she does, where she saves Little Russell Crowe’s relationship, as previously mentioned. However, this comes at the expense of her own anguish of course. So she goes to The Peach Pit After Dark and orders a vodka on the rocks except the bartender won’t serve her. She says she drinks there all the time. The bartender says, “Well, that’s when Iceman’s buying.” OK, so it’s OK to drink underage there as long as someone else’s buying? Hey, Choi, what do you think about that? The Anorexic 5000 says, “I used to date the manager.” OK, that was funny, and allows me to mention Flock of Seagulls. Not because I liked her, but it was an awesome nickname. But the bartender maintains she needs to get someone over 21 to buy for her. OK, so that makes Iceman over 21 with a posse of 15-year-olds? Now, that IS creepy. So The Anorexic 5000 goes back to the beach where Iceman and his posse are having a 21 and 15-year-old all male coke orgy and demands some coke. That’s right, folks. She don’t mind, she don’t mind, she don’t mind … cocaine. (TM Eric Clapton). And after watching Melora Walters in Magnolia the night before, that now officially makes about the 51st shot of someone snorting coke I’ve seen in the last 24 hours. Well, at least Claudia (Ms. Walters’ character in Magnolia) was rather endearing.

Next week: Peter Gallagher officially declares war on Mr. Green. Someday, he and Bongo may even find out who he’s allegedly taking kickbacks from. Little Russell Crowe, The Anorexic 5000, D-Nozz and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 get their college acceptance letters and inevitably decide that they wanted to go to California University all along. And Little Russell Crowe decides that the allure of a needy cokehead anorexic robot is too strong and drops his hot girlfriend with the nice rack to run back to her. OK, so if it doesn’t happen next episode, it’ll be the one after that.

Do you post under the name, "MagnoliaFan?"

2006-03-30T14:54:00.000-08:00

OK, this is essentially a Spoiler Alert. Don’t read this if you don’t want to know what happens in the movie.

Also, so I’m not a professional movie critic nor an academic, nor a good philosopher, so I fully accept that what I have to say is fairly trite, but I wanted you to be fairly warned.

So I recently watched the movie Magnolia for the first time and sadly have nothing cohesive to say about it, but what the hell? Anyway, the line between brilliant art and pretentious crap is a very fine one. I think we know where Kevin Smith falls on his judgment of Magnolia. But while I was watching this, I was reminded a lot of what I’ve said about Sufjan Stevens. In that I don’t like his music, but I appreciate the effort. There are parts of Magnolia that I think really work and parts I think don’t work at all and pissed me off, but even while pissed off, I still admire the ambition. Even it’s least successful moments for me are at least more interesting that whoever they decide to throw together for the next buddy-cop movie. And for every me who thinks certain parts are over the top, there’s someone else who finds it the apotheoisis of moviemaking. The line between brilliant art and pretentious crap is a very fine one, and they’re usually both very far away from uninspired.

I really liked that there seemed to be something for everyone in a good way (when movies try to be everything to everyone and fail at everything, it's painful). Naturally, everyone will have a different perspective on which characters worked the best for them. Regardless, I really liked how strong characters were written in all age brackets. That’s one of the hardest things for a writer to relate to kids, adults, and old people all equally effectively, and that worked really well for me. Each character, regardless of age or gender had a strong emotional base. The emotions were different for each, but they really made you feel them. I can’t say enough about the acting in the movie. Even the characters I didn’t identify with as much still had the hell acted out of them.

I really liked the story between the Jim, the cop (John C. Reilly, who just plain rules period) and Claudia, the cokehead woman who was molested by her dad. The scenes where they were trying to connect really connected with me. Both the game show kid, Stanley, and his grown-up counterpart, William H. Macy's character, thought they never met, really connected with me as well. It's always been a hot-button issue for me about parents listening to their kids and forcing too much on kids at too young. As dorky as it sounds, when Stanley finally stood up for himself on the game show, I actually cheered. As for Donnie Smith, the adult former game-show kid, it's really heartbreaking how much his game show kid part screwed him up and he has no idea how to connect with people. Sorry, I keep saying connect. But his line near the end about, “I really do have love to give. I just don’t know where to put it,” is the line I’ll most remember from the film.

Tom Cruise’s performance I’m kind of in the middle on. I think his scenes at the end with his dying father who abandoned him to take care of his dying mother were very well acted. But before that, there was a big deal made at the time of the film (1999) about how he was playing against type by playing such an asshole of a guy. But now seeing it in 2006, Frank T.J. Mackey, at least his façade, he seems like there’s where he’s playing the real Tom Cruise, and maybe his attempts at playing a “normal, good guy” should be given more credit as acting. Julianne Moore and Philip Seymour Hoffman’s characters, both of whom did outstanding jobs and have gotten tons of credit for their performances, neither completely worked for me just in that I didn’t feel like I knew enough about them to completely identify with them. Yes, I am saying that in a 3-hour movie (which actually went by really quickly, and I do mean that as a huge compliment), I felt some of the characters were underwritten. I think a peek at both of their backstories would have helped a lot.

OK, what really didn’t work for me. Both of what are talked about as the most “controversial” scenes in the movie I felt were over the top. First, after Jason Robards’ speech about regret, which I thought could have used some editing, when all the characters are seemingly at their lowest points and all the characters, old, young, comatose, whatever, start singing this Aimee Mann song wherever they are. I did think of what some famous writer of musicals, whose name escapes me, said about musicals, which was that characters sing “when their emotions are so strong that they cannot be expressed in spoken words,” and tried to apply that, but it still didn’t work. For the right person under the right circumstances, it could have been extremely moving. For me, I thought it was “too precious” by a good leap and bound. The one woman who started off singing with that song was affecting, but once it got to the second person, it had already reached the tipping point for me between heart-tugging and making me want to hurl. I almost hit the fast forward. Speaking of “too precious,” same thing goes with the cutesy weather descriptions. They made me be like, “Shut up, Paul Thomas Anderson!” And then there was the frogs. Yeah, about 2 hours and 45 minutes into the film, it starts raining frogs. Whether this is supposed to be a direct imposition of a deity is up to you. I felt it was, but I’ve read other accounts saying that an element of magical realism fit perfectly in that moment. Either way, I didn’t like it. I’m like, “OK, I’ve made it through 2 hours and 45 minutes of wrenchingly emotional conflict and I get fucking frogs? I want an emotional climax and resolution, not an act of God!” I was pissed off. Viscerally upset. I took it as overtly religious because of the dropping of the cop’s lost gun after the frogs, a seeming reward for his being a good person. Anyway, I’m like, “I didn’t watch 2 hours and 45 minutes of exquisite character work to get ‘God works in mysterious ways.’ If I wanted to hear someone say that, I’d go talk to my mom.” If you’re looking at it from a magical realism angle, I don’t feel the climate was accurately set for an act of magical realism, since in my opinion, nothing else in the film sets the tone that in this world of theirs, “these things happen,” to quote Stanley’s take on it. Even the prologue, which I loved, that addressed all these occurrences that “simply could not be coincidences,” did not contain anything outside of our physical realm. Anderson meant for the scene to be jarring, and by God, it was, but it felt out of place and extremely unsatisfying. Of course, he and many others could probably argue that the fact that it seems out of place makes it completely in place with the film, but it simply didn’t work for me. I would like to hear from some people who it did work for. My word certainly isn’t gospel and I’ve only seen it once and I’d love to change my mind and “like it more.” Also, just because of my love of continuity, I was ticked off that we never found out who killed Marcie’s husband, but that’s just me.

Anyway, for all the problems I had with it, it’s absolutely worth your time. Like I said, incredibly engaging and the 3 hours really do fly by. Well worth your $3 rental and like I said, as far as rewards go, having the next day to toss around criticisms of the frogs or whatnot still beats the hell out of “Just Friends” any day.

Some producer with computers fixes all my sh**ty tracks

2006-03-29T11:51:00.000-08:00

Before anything else, I want to wish a happy birthday retroactive to yesterday to Shasta, who, while she hasn’t been very active here of late, remains a vital part of the Tourist community. I mean Bend It without our official fashion correspondent is a dark and lonely place, and trust that she’s still feeding me fashion tips, even if not posting them and making for terribly exciting fashion conversation offsite.

Anyway, the other day I was listening to the radio while driving and heard “Road to Nowhere” by Talking Heads. My love for Talking Heads continues to be boundless and I continue to owe it to Sleepless who made me listen to them when I was in the 8th grade. I was like, “What a fucking awesome day! I heard “Road to Nowhere” on my way to work,” and then the next song was “Speed of Sound” by Coldplay. Now admittedly, there are very few songs that can follow “Road to Nowhere,” (“The Real Me” by The Who would have been a good choice, though), but following one of my very favorite songs with damn near the most colossal pile of mung just seemed like a cruel joke. However, it did remind me of something I’ve forgotten to mention for about a month.

So about a month ago, Apple’s iTunes celebrated its one-billionth download. In a grand display of benevolence/hubris/lack of perspective, the company gave the one-billionth downloader a boatload of booty. No, not hookers, although that would have been awesome. The winner, 16-year-old Alex Ostrovsky of West Bloomfield, MI, received a $10, 000 iTunes gift certificate, a new iMac, 10 60-gig iPods, and a scholarship in his name to Juilliard Music School in New York. (http://abcnews.go.com/Technology/story?id=16538810) Well, that’s fucking great. Assuming iTunes stays in business for years upon years, eventually they’ll have to give someone a small island nation and comprehensive health care for all his or her descendents. Like I said on the lack of perspective, if Captain 2 Billion gets anything less that Mr. Ostrovsky, he’ll probably have his lawyer on the phone faster than I’ll run to flap a basset hound’s ears.

Some have made a deal out of the fact that Ostrovsky is 16 and lives in what is allegedly a ritzy suburb in Michigan and doesn’t have to pay bills, and he’s therefore “less deserving,” but whatever. I don’t have an economic breakdown of iTunes users so feel free to jump in and correct me, but I’m guessing that hardcore iTunes users are not living day-to-day. (Just hoping to be led astray, hell yeah! TM theme to the movie Clerks by Love Among Freaks) But anyway, and not like the Blues Traveler song, I think the most interesting part of this story is not what Mr. Ostrovsky won, but what he won with? The song that begot such booty was the aforementioned “Speed of Sound” by Coldplay.

Now that just kinda seems wrong, but sadly symbolic. Now I don’t have iTunes, so once again, feel free to jump in and correct me, but it would seem like a wide-ranging availability of songs to buy at a per-song price would have many positive uses, like giving more access to new artists and previously unavailable rarities and live performances by non-new artists. And yet the song that in many ways has now managed to “represent” the service that anchored the pay-for-download service market and has launched countless jealous wannabes is the most banal, soporific, mainstream, lacking song one could think of. One could say it’s a mere coincidence, but given how the iPod is essentially the logo of 2006 urban and suburban pop culture, I think it’s an unsurprising, yet frustrating indictment on society.

OK, now you’re probably saying a couple things. First, didn’t you just write a few months ago that people should be free to like whatever without reserve? Yes, I did. Alex Ostrovsky can like Coldplay as much as he wants and I’m cool with that, just as long as he’s doing it for himself and that’s his actual music taste. I just don’t think it’s a positive societal development for Coldplay to represent us as a people. Secondly, you’re probably like, “How much of this negativity comes from the fact that you adamantly hate Coldplay?” Yes, I’ll admit to hating Coldplay every day of the week. In fact it’s probably one of the first things I think about when I get up in the morning. But if we’re talking Coldplay here, I really do think that “Speed of Sound” is even more the encapsulation of celebration of mediocrity than any of their other songs. Think about it. While I may not like the songs, I can remember how the opening piano riff to “Clocks” goes, and not just because it’s probably even piped into the bathrooms at the local courthouse. I remember the opening guitar riff to “Talk.” Although horribly for ill, I remember the whimpering that launched a multimillion-dollar career and the unforgivable sin of referencing the song that is currently being sung (one of my all-time pet peeves) of “Yellow.” I can’t remember jack fucking shit about “Speed of Sound.” Can you? It’s the most undistinguishable disposable song of their undistinguishable disposable career. And therefore really does make more of a statement.

I first heard of this story from Footnotes, a devout Apple-phile, and we were discussing how much more interesting this event could have been in the hands of someone more creative than Alex Ostrovsky. (In Ostrovsky’s defense, he’s only 16. Someone my age would be taking a lot more shit from me.) According to Footnotes, there was a download counter, so people were furiously trying to download songs when it got close to one billion in hopes of winning. So someone with a healthy sense of context could have actually done something with his or her choice. I mean, you run a search for Alex Ostrovsky and you come up with a buttload of stories. So what if that song had been say someone like The Lloyd Dobler Effect. In that way, a relative unknown band from Silver Spring, MD, is getting its name in headlines around the world. Or someone with a wicked sense of humor would start downloading the most fucked-up songs they could think of, so all world media outlets would have to report, and a Juilliard scholarship would forever note that someone won this contest by downloading “We Want Some Pussy” by 2 Live Crew or “Gimme That Nut” by Eazy-E. As it stands, Juilliard will forever commemorate the fact that Alex Ostrovsky has shitty taste in music. And that’s a truly commemorable thing if there ever was one. I’ll at least hold out hope that when Alex Ostrovsky has grandkids, he’ll be too embarrassed to tell them what his winning song was. Oh wait, that’s not a good test, because once you get old enough, you have no problem admitting the stupid shit you did. And on that note, the second album I ever bought was Tiffany. (The first, if you were curious, was the Beverly Hills Cop soundtrack, and 21 years later, I’m still not embarrassed. Harold Faltermeyer in the motherfucking hizouse!)

Let's make like a Canadian posse and roll oot!

2006-03-27T12:30:00.000-08:00

Well, I really don't need the confusion. And you know I just ain't the type. To get wrapped up in the illusion. Of doing something that I know ain't right, right, right? Right, right. You've got to want to rearrange and keep it off the record. Off the record. You've got to know that we will change and keep it off the record. Off the record. Come on. Time for Musings!

- Yeah, I know almost all the Canadians I know say "oat" instead of "oot." Is the whole "oot" thing just a false stereotype, or a regional accent and I've met people from the wrong region?
- So yesterday was our big Bend It outing to see Marcel Goc, Jonathan Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer, and the San Jose Sharks battle the Chicago Blackhawks, the city and league's biggest afterthought. By "us," I mean Choi and myself. We were hoping to score some free tickets off Choi's Bay Area connections, but despite the arena being less than half full, the Hawks wouldn't grant comp tickets. Booooooo! Anyway, Marcel must have known we were coming because he had a great game. He had an assist only 3 minutes into the game, and was in during another Sharks goal as well, making him +2 for the night. Cheechoo also had an assist, though a much quieter game since he was in more and expected to score more. I promised I would do the Choo Choo the Herky-Jerky Dancer dance, despite being much worse at it than Footnotes, if he scored, and sadly for everyone, he didn't. However, it was a pretty entertaining game with the Sharks winning 5-4 in overtime in spite of their shitty backup goalie, Vesa Toskala. Despite my assertions that Mighty Marcel Goc would score the winning goal, it was actually Tom Preissing.
- I think that means it's time for our Bend It Official NHL Players Marcel Goc and Jonathan Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer Watch! Marcel's assist brought him up to 12 for the season to go with his 7 goals, giving him 19 points for the season. His +2 yesterday brings him up to -7. Come on, Marcel! Let's get back to even by the end of the year. Cheechoo had another strong week with 3 goals, 3 assists, and a +6 bringing him to 45 goals, 30 assists, and +18. Woot!
- Speaking of Cheechoo the Herky-Jerky Dancer, there's a nice profile on him and his home of Moose Factory, Ontario on ESPN.com. http://sports.espn.go.com/nhl/columns/storycolumnist=burnside_scott&id=2380934. Sadly, no mentions of herky-jerky dancing, but did you know his favorite food is fried moose? Yum! Sounds better than salami at any rate.
- Reverse props go the Blackhawks in-game production team for playing the tomahawk chop song. It's stupid at Florida St. It's pretty expansion in Atlanta. And it's really expansion in Chicago. And also for playing Coldplay during a stoppage of play. I know the Blackhawks suck, but even if you do like Coldplay, don't you want to get the fans pumped up rather than ready for a nap?
- Speaking of Coldplay, toss-up: What would I rather go to -- a Coldplay concert or the Larry the Cable Guy movie? I know the rest of you like Coldplay, which is why the question is asked what would I rather do?
- My NCAA Tournament heaven is complete. Duke is gone. Yes, Georgetown lost on Friday. The curse of the bulldog was complete after I roamed my neighborhood looking for one to no avail. (I saw one yesterday, 2 days too late, more on that to come). But I said if Duke and UNC lose, it's a successful tournament. Huge props to northern Virginia commuter school George Mason (or just "Mason" as we say in the DC area) for making the Final Four. I won't say miraculously making it because they played really well. No miracles about it. Not to mention taking out 3 schools I'm rarely sad to see lose -- Michigan St, UNC, and UConn. It looked like that home crowd in DC really helped yesterday. It still cracks me up that it's a commuter school though, so an outpouring of school pride is kinda curious. Since I have no money interests left (my entire Final Four lost), I'm pulling for a Mason-LSU final. (My dad went to med school at LSU).
- Speaking of LSU, memo to CBS: If a guy has a stupid nickname, you're not required to call him by it 24/7. You can be like, "Damn, "Big Baby" is a stupid nickname. We're just going to call him Glen Davis." There's even precedent. No one calls Kobe Bryant by his self-appointed stupid nickname of "Mamba" except for Bill Simmons, who does it sarcastically.
- George Mason may have eliminated the Wichita St Shockers, but not before they left an indelible mark on the national consciousness. http://www.themightymjd.com/2006/03/23/i-like-a-woman-whos-upfront-about-what-she-wants/. There is nothing I could say here that wouldn't detract from this.
- This one's for Marisol. Before their elimination at the hands of UCLA, Memphis was using Hustle and Flow's "Whoop That Trick" as their fight song. By a bunch of basketball players, it probably looks pretty cool, but when you put it in the hands of the fans, then it's just plain hilarious. http://www.deadspin.com/sports/memphis-tigers/memphis-looks-to-whoop-that-trick-162967.php.
- OK, so that's one thing not to like about George Mason. Their NCAA theme, according to Coach Jim Larranaga, has been 3 Doors Down's "Kryptonite." Booooooooooooo!
- OK, last basketball "story." And this one's for Mr. Uncomfortable. This is a highlight package made by Michigan St fans set to Michigan basketball player Brent Petway's abominable attempt at rapping. http://therealests.blogspot.com/2006/03/brent-petway-rap-song.html. Seriously, I know it takes a little while to load, but it's totally worth it.
- OK, this is officially awesome. http://deadspin.com/sports/college-basketball/coach-k-will-eat-your-child-162569.php.
- Speaking of Duke, I've said a lot of things about Duke in my 28 years, but it was just in frustration. I was not actually hoping any Dukies would live up to them. http://www.newsobserver.com/122/story/421494.html. Not to mention not helping with the already prevalent stereotype of lacrosse players. (It's an East Coast thing).
- Speaking of deviant acts, I promised an update on the South Park-Isaac Hayes debacle. There's been a report circling that Isaac Hayes is actually sick and some Scientologist lackeys formulated his press release "on his behalf," when he actually has no problem with the show. That's still unsubstantiated, but hopefully more will come out. Anyway, on last Wednesday's show, South Park created a Scientology stand-in called the "Super Adventure Club" which is devoted to traveling the world and molesting the world's children. Its leaders espoused some Scientologist beliefs, but transposed them to child molestation. When Stan claimed their ideology was "retarded," the leader said, "Is it really any more retarded than God sending his only son to die for our sins?" and Stan said, "Yeah, it's way more retarded." See, there I disagree, and thought it was out of character for the show to choose sides on religion or politics. However, I thought the way they handled the character of Chef's departure was really classy. They placed the blame not on Isaac Hayes at all, but on Scientology and resisted from officially burning any bridges. The statement was given in Kyle's eulogy of Chef, which said, “A lot of us don’t agree with the choices Chef has made in the past few days. Some of us feel hurt and confused that he seemed to turn his back on us. But we can’t let the events of the last week take away the memories of how much Chef made us smile. I’m going to remember Chef as the jolly old guy who always broke into song. I’m going to remember Chef as the guy who gave us advice to live by. So you see, we shouldn’t be mad at Chef for leaving us, we should be mad at that fruity little club for scrambling his brains. And in the end, I know that somewhere out there, there’s the good part of Chef that’s still alive in us all.” I thought it was handled really well. Well played, Trey Parker and Matt Stone.
- Speaking of TV, I think I've mentioned that Veronica Mars creator Rob Thomas (still not the singer) is a huge Big Lebowski fan and is often dropping references to the movie on Veronica Mars, once even having Veronica watching the movie. This past episode, she said to rival but sometimes-collaborating private investigator Vinnie Vanlowe (played by The State's Ken Marino), at a bowling alley, "This isn't Nam, Vinnie. This is bowling. There are rules." And in the Senor Beavis Palace, I swooned.
- Yes, Grey's was a repeat last night and I didn't re-watch it, but when I did flip it on for a second, I saw Addison talking to Izzie and it reminded me of one of the plotlines I'd forgotten. Remember when Addison made Izzie watch the baby that Addison knew was terminal but Izzie didn't, supposedly as a way to teach Izzie a lesson about distancing herself from the patients? I'd forgotten about that, and evidently, so has Izzie because her plotline now is the polar opposite.
- Speaking of Grey's, for the next drinking game rule, toss-up: Drink whenever Nurse Olivia is on (TM 8yearoldsdude) or drink every time someone mentions her and Alex giving George syphilis?
- Did I always hate that Monkees song "Daydream Believer" and had just forgotten until these insufferable EBay commercials or is it solely the commercials that have turned me on the song?
- The host of Deal or No Deal scares the fuck out of me. Not that I would have watched it anyway if he didn't, but still. It's a heck of a transformation from long-haired completely not funny '80s comedian to Mr. Clean raging germaphobe (that's true) fake game show host. And nice soul patch, jackass!
- Speaking of, Time for Senor Beavis' Fashion Corner: Canine Edition! Yesterday, while out for a walk, I encountered a lovely lady bulldog named Daisy whose owner had adorned her with a small purple and white checkerboard hat. Turned sideways. Before giving me good-luck bulldog licks, which surely ensured the beautiful day and Sharks victory, her expression plaintively said, "Please take me with you." Though it's not often that I find myself agreeing with Jay Leno, please, unless they are clearly uncomfortable and you are alleviating their discomfort with your extreme makeover, please, do not dress up your dogs! DOWNGRADE!!!!!!
- Good people watching shift this past weekend at Starbucks. First we had another guy rocking (and I say that as sarcastically as possible) the awful Drew Lachey (http://www.thesuperficial.com/archives/2006/03/24/drew_lachey_has_a_baby.html), Mark Sloan from Grey's Anatomy, Iceman from The OCk, and Heath Ledger at the Oscars moustache. Mercifully, I happened to be working with my snarkiest co-worker on Saturday, who backed me on the unfortunateness of said trend. Then, we got a 23-year-old-looking "businessman" "rocking" (and I say that as sarcastically as possible) the metro mohawk, an earpiece for his cellphone, and a powder blue tie. After we thought he'd left, I was like, "Hey [Snarky Co-Worker], should I get a powder blue tie?" She responded, "Yeah, and an earpiece." I said, "I'm gonna wear my powder blue tie here on the floor. It'll go great with my apron." We made fun of him for about a minute more. Half an hour later or so, I'm cleaning the store and of course, the dude's still there. I was like, "Yeah, that's dude with the powder blue tie is totally still in our store." But I didn't feel bad about it. Especially because I said he's probably completely oblivious to everyone else in the world to which my snarky co-worker agreed heartily.
- But that wasn't nearly the best story of the day at Starbucks. It's about 7:30 AM on Saturday. This dude and these two chicks come in and the first thing I notice is that the blond girl was wearing cut-off sweatpants to capri length with Ugg boots. I was like, "Man, that is not a good look. DOWNGRADE!!!!!!" Then again, what really does look good with Ugg boots? I've seen jean skirts with Ugg boots and said that looks awful too and carried some of the blame onto the jean skirt, but maybe that was being unfair. Anyway, the next chick is way worse. She's way over-fake-tanned, has big curly hair, and is wearing a shirt that, well, is WAY too provacative for A) Starbucks, and B) 7: 30 AM. Like the kind of thing you'd wear out to the club if you knew you just wanted to snort coke and take it up the ass in the bathroom. (DOWNGRADE!!!!) So I'm mighty suspicious. So then the guy whips out a roll of money and covers everything and he's wearing aviator sunglasses, which have been out since probably 1990, indoors. (DOWNGRADE!!!!) And a crewcut. Curiosity of course killing me, I ask him, "So what are you guys doing up so early on a Saturday?" And he responds, "We've got a dance deal." I was like, "OH MY GOD! I WAS TOTALLY RIGHT!" I thought I was just being judgmental, but yes, we had strippers in our tiny residential store.

Every other city we go. Every other video. No matter where I go, I see the same ho.

Allow me to re-introduce myself, my name is OCk ... O to the C-K

2006-03-24T13:04:00.000-08:00

You know when Crocodile Dundee’s like, “That’s not a noife. THIS is a noife.” Yeah, well, I want to apologize to last week’s episode of The OCk for when I called it “atrocious.” Because The OCk too umbrage and was like, “Tristan, that’s not atrocious. THIS is atrocious!” Yeah, I know you should take my statements about the quality of The OCk with a grain of salt. I mean, every week the transcript of my and Choi’s text conversation during The OCk inevitably ends with one of us saying either, “This is the worst episode ever,” or “There’s an hour of my life I’m not getting back.” And we’re sincere every time. OK, OK, I hear you, every English teacher I ever had. Show, don’t tell. Time for Do You Smell What The OCk is Cookin’?!

Hey, you know the party in PCU called “Everybody Gets Laid?” That’s the episode. Yeah, and I buy this episode about as much as I bought 40-year-old bald Jeremy Piven as a college student. Good night everybody.

OK, well Replacement Walrus is still reading because she missed the episode as I almost did if when I accidentally fell asleep and was awoken by a friend conveniently calling at 8, so let’s see what we can salvage out of this. Well, now that Peter Gallagher’s not out defying Little Russell Crowe by dragging Go Go White Sox out of the gutter, he’s back running the The Old Dude (Not Howie J. Reynolds) Real Estate Company. Something about a hospital and a proposal and a board headed by Monkey Licker’s Dad. Monkey Licker’s Dad looks like the picture of Mr. Green on his card in “Clue.” So Mr. Green tells Peter Gallagher that he likes the proposal, but there’s a hitch, and he doesn’t mean a crappy movie with Will Smith on autopilot. (And when isn’t Will Smith on autopilot, by the way?) Evidently, the hospital board thinks Bongo is a shady character, what with the strippers and the booze and the how do they know that? How it takes Peter Gallagher the entire episode to figure this out gets him stripped of his rights to talk like a gangster for this episode because anyone that dumb shouldn’t be running a lemonade stand, much less a business. So Peter Gallagher goes to talk to Bongo about this, which doesn’t make any sense because Bongo can’t do anything to make Mr. Green like him anyway. However, he finds The Anorexic 5000 in Bongo’s apartment wearing a Peyton Manning jersey. Yeah, I know. We finally met someone who makes Peyton Manning look like he’s got soul. So what’s she doing there? Well, believe it or not, Bongo’s about the only guy in The OCk that she’s not doing. Yet. But she went to hang out with Bongo because she was bored and has no friends and is sick of The General Lee. And Bongo said she could stay at the Bongo Palace while he was out of town on a business trip. For what? They only have one project. Also, Bongo, what the fuck? I mean if he had a dog or something, just use that excuse. But I don’t let my friends who have crappy apartments stay in mine when I’m out of town. Nothing against my friends, but still. Why open yourself up to potential liability? And it’s not like inviting Martha Stewart there either. It’s a 17-year-old slutty drama queen. Anyway, Peter Gallagher’s like, “Bongo, what the fuck?” And Bongo’s like, “No, we haven’t fucked yet. Ask me in a couple days.” Peter Gallagher says that Mr. Green wants him fired and Bongo’s like, “Fuck that! I’m staying. Just talk to him.” You mean like before? Well, OK. So Peter Gallagher has dinner with Mr. Green and is like, “Seriously. What does the board give a … OH, NOW I GET IT!” Glad you could finally make it to the party. Sorry, keg’s kicked. Mr. Green wants revenge for Bongo using Monkey Licker to help with the proposal. Quoth Mr. Green, “She cried for weeks over him.” Hey, hey, hey! Pull that bus over to the side of the Continuity Turnpike! (TM Denis Leary for the concept) Anyone remember when Carrie Wood talked to Monkey Licker and warned her that Bongo was using her and Monkey Licker said, “Yeah. I know. Maybe I’m using him too?” In addition, Bongo had been rejecting her for like 8 years or whatever. So why’s she upset? Anyway, Mr. Green’s like, “Fire Bongo or take your real estate deal, turn it sideways, and stick it STRAIGHT UP YOUR CANDY ASS!” (TM The Rock). Yeah, who’s the gangster now, Peter Gallagher? Peter Gallagher ends the episode looking conflicted. OK, so not everyone gets laid this episode.

So evidently D-Nozz and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 are having intimacy issues. And I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t do either one of them. Anyway, D-Nozz has another Brown interview to make up for the one he chickened out of. Since we’re here in fantasy land where you can have a college interview on March the fucking 23rd, a week before decisions come out. Anyway, the new interviewer is a big fan of anime, so they spend the whole time talking about that and not Brown, which can only help D-Nozz. Hey, there’s Tracy Flick! We missed ya. She offers to help celebrate the successful interview by making a flan. 14’s like, “Shut up, Tracy Flick. We don’t like you.” Hey, bring that flan over here. That sounds delicious. Tracy Flick’s like, “You guys are gonna fuck! Fuckers!” (TM Stifler’s brother in American Pie 1) 14’s like, “Not so much. He’s gonna make me watch shitty movies and then we’ll fall asleep.” Tracy Flick’s like, ‘Wow, if he doesn’t want to bang you now, just wait until he meets hot smart chicks at Brown.” Well, then he can just think about them while banging you. But this makes Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 paranoid again so she awkwardly tries to seduce D-Nozz by telling him he smells nice. D-Nozz is like, “I smell like salami. Get the fuck off me.” In a related story, I don’t like salami. So the next morning, Tracy Flick runs into 14 who’s out buying pancakes and is like, “You must have drawn the short straw so you have to go out and buy breakfast after sex.” Huh? I’ve never heard of that. What the hell is Tracy Flick talking about? 14’s like, “Yeah, whatever.” Tracy Flick’s like, “Wait, you didn’t have any sex. You’re not glowing and you don’t have bite marks all over you.” No seriously, that’s a paraphrase of what she said. OK, Flick, you’re over the line. Mark it zero! (TM Walter Sobchak (John Goodman) in The Big Lebowski) Speaking as a non-detail-giver-or-asker myself, shut up, Tracy Flick! Sensing trouble in her paradise, she tricks D-Nozz and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 to meeting her at The OCk Prep School for a sex counseling session. Evidently, her dad was a sex therapist before he hit the road. OK, between that and Rosenhaus, no wonder she’s such a show. That’s a therapist’s summer home right there. OK, memo to Tracy Flick. You’re the only person D-Nozz DIDN’T invite to LRC’s party last week. D-Nozz invited homeless guys over you. They aren’t your friends! Undeterred, she tries some physical contact drills and nothing happens. So she goes over to D-Nozz’s house and proceeds to teach him the Kama Sutra. Not physically, though. According to Tracy Flick, “if sex were a martial art, [she’d] be a black belt.” And allegedly all she didn’t learn from her dad, she learned from Everybody Cut Footloose. Well, I’m glad someone acknowledged they were fucking. And there’s a therapist’s yacht. Does anyone else really want to know how she taught D-Nozz the Kama Sutra? Naturally, they show us … well, that’s the next story … but not what would have to be the only thing that sounds patently hilarious? I know there are censors, but how bout deleted scenes in the DVD. Please. Now. So D-Nozz goes over to Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14’s house and 14 thinks he’s there to break up with her. D-Nozz is like, “Yeah, Tracy Flick just taught me the Kama Sutra!” 14 goes to her first instinct and tries to slap him. Seriously, D-Nozz must not have any other options. D-Nozz, for once in his life, catches her hand. So she tries the other hand and he catches that too. And then they get it on. And magically everything is cured by one evening of alleged good sex. OK, I’ll take your word for it. By the way, I know she’s petite, but 14 is looking awfully wan. I wasn’t attracted to her before, but she may be Girl Who Looks Like She’s 10 if she keeps joining The Anorexic 5000 on her “bathroom breaks.”

Speaking of, well, The Anorexic 5000, as characters typically do on this show, conveniently forgot the whole head on Iceman’s shoulder thing. So she continues to run away and he continues to stalk her. By the way, if his enjoying her playing games with him is supposed to indicate that he’s psycho, then I’m cool with that. Iceman, during one stalking session, says that he “can offer a break from all that’s going on in her head.” I’m not quite sure what he means by that, but she definitely won’t have to strain herself trying to talk to him. And vice versa. Maybe they are perfect for each other. Plus it’s easy to remember his number because it’s only one digit. Anyway, the immortal line, “The more emotionally distant we are, they more we want each other,” naturally was used out of context in the preview. Like that ever happens. The Anorexic 5000 was asked by Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 if her and Little Russell Crowe’s sex life went south right before the breakup and she said it was exactly the opposite and then said that line. Hey, hey, hey! Pull that bus over to the side of the Continuity Turnpike! (TM Denis Leary for the concept) Anyone remember when it was supposed to be a big fucking deal that they had sex for the alleged first time back in the fall? So now we’re supposed to believe that despite her always ditching out on him for Blue Crush, they got it on all the time? I’m throwing a fucking flag, pardon the expression. So now that The Anorexic 5000’s been thrown out of the Bongo Palace by Peter Gallagher and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 is off being a “goooood girl” with D-Nozz, she has nothing to do. So she goes home to The General Lee and conveniently Iceman is sitting on her porch. So she leaves her door open and he walks in and they start ripping each other’s clothes off and … I’M BLIND! I’M BLIND!!!!! (TM Al Bundy) Seriously, it is just that abrupt. You know, the combined width of Iceman and The Anorexic 5000 getting it on (measuring ass to ass) is probably less than my own (measuring ass to belly button). That’s making me very sad. I hope I never have to see this again.

So Little Russell Crowe has finally found himself a normal girl in Oregon Trail, though Choi has a little something to say about Oregon Trail’s alleged macramé purse. (This was naturally lost on me). Even D-Nozz and 14 have to concede she’s probably better for him than The Anorexic 5000, especially after she whoops D-Nozz’s ass at some unspecified video game. Carrie Wood even emerges to chime in that it’s nice to see him with a not-drama queen. So of course drama has to come from somewhere, right? And it’s in the guise of … oh, my God! It’s Dead Hooker! (see: http://senorbeavis.blogspot.com/2005/04/this-ock-aint-for-everyone-only-sexy.html. And by the way, that’s a fucking good recap.) Dead Hooker has returned from Vegas where she was living with Cortese the Killer and has brought LRC a Matchbox car that Cortese the Killer gave her to give him for a birthday present. Dead Hooker says that Cortese the Killer is working at a dirt casino as a blackjack dealer and has managed to stay out of trouble. Dead Hooker says she’s trying to turn her life around. So of course that entails getting a job or going back to school, right? Nope, she’s just saying it to say it. Since she says her new boyfriend is also a skanky drug dealer. Hey, hey, hey! Pull that bus over to the side of the Continuity Turnpike! (TM Denis Leary for the concept) So Cortese the Killer gave her the present for LRC’s birthday, which was last week and now she has a new boyfriend already? Sounds like just the person LRC should trust in terms of any matter of truth about his brother. Meanwhile, Oregon Trail’s like, “What in the world is with that car. What is up with that car?” and LRC says it’s a long story. So Little Russell Crowe proceeds to keep blowing off Oregon Trail every time Dead Hooker is having an emotional crisis, which is all the time. During some “long emotional chat,” Dead Hooker decides to dump her 2-day boyfriend (what is she, in the 7th grade?), who I guess by proxy would be Dead Pimp so Dead Pimp allegedly starts stalking her. Well, why not? If we learned anything from the last story, it’s that stalking works on slutty dumbass drama queens. I have no idea why it’s not here. Carrie Wood tries to talk LRC out of what he’s doing and says he’s allowed to date a normal girl who doesn’t need rescuing all the time. Well, nice to see you removed your head from your ass where it was last episode, Carrie Wood. Then of course LRC runs off when he gets a frantic phone call from Dead Hooker’s friend who says that Dead Pimp is on his way to break up their party and Dead Hooker has locked herself in the pool house and won’t come out until Little Russell Crowe comes to save her. Evidently, The OCk is supporting South Park by staging a reenactment of the Scientology episode. (By the way, more on that Monday). So LRC breaks his date with Oregon trail and rushes off to the rescue. Dead Hooker then tries to put the moves on him. Then Dead Pimp shows up, which I totally didn’t expect because I thought she was lying about that. LRC’s like, “You can have her. Really, she’s not mine.” And Dead Pimp’s like, “Yeah, you’re totally taking out your brother’s trash,” or something like that. So Little Russell Crowe’s like, “Just because she’s trash doesn’t mean you can call her trash! I’m Little Russell Crowe and I’m gonna Romper Stomp your ass! Makin’ movies, makin’ songs, and foy-in’ round the world! (TM South Park).” And punches him. Or at least I think so. I got distracted by Choi texting me. And that I was bored. So Dead Hooker’s like, “My hero. I’m gonna stop dating guys like him and start dating guys like you!” And Little Russell Crowe’s like, “Do you see a sign on my dick that says “Dead Hooker Storage?” I’ve had it with fucking drama queens. At least until the end of the season. I’m gonna go back and bang my normal girlfriend before some drama breaks us apart later.” Meanwhile, Oregon Trail’s been getting pissed off that LRC is always running off to help Dead Hooker. And who can blame her? Now she knows what dating The Anorexic 5000 during the Blue Crush Era was like for LRC. So Oregon Trail asks D-Nozz what the hell is going on and D-Nozz is like, “Cut the guy some slack. He’s wasted the last 3 years dating that slutty drama queen anorexic robot, so he’s used to that pattern of behavior and the only normal girl he dated was The Old Dude (Not Howie J. Reynolds)’s illegitimate daughter.” So Oregon Trail’s like, “OK. I see your point.” Well done, D-Nozz. Hey, I’m nothing if not fair. So when Little Russell Crowe gets back from the Dead Hooker Palace, he tells Oregon Trail that he and Cortese the Killer used to play Matchbox cars while Go Go White Sox was having her drunken episodes, so that was their bonding thing. Awww. Sorry, I’m a sucker. My heart’s not made of stone, even when it comes to The OCk. LRC says Cortese the Killer and he had a dream that they would buy a Camaro just like their favorite Matchbox car and leave their horrible life forever. And that's what was happening when he and Cortese the Killer were stealing the car that allegedly landed LRC in The OCk and Cortese the Killer in the hoosegow. Oregon Trail’s like, “See, you actually can talk to me because I’m not completely self-centered like The Anorexic 5000. I have empathy and listening skills and people skills and I’m hotter.” Now would be a great time for LRC to tell her the story about Cortese the Killer and The Anorexic 5000 and the shooting, but he doesn't, which does not bode well, I'm guessing. And then poor Oregon Trail gets saddled with some horrendous line of porno dialogue like, “We can do more than just talk.” And so they get it on and this is actually kinda do want to see so of course they cut immediately to The Anorexic 5000 and Iceman.

Next week: The Carver and Hot Gobette announce their engagement, which makes The Anorexic 5000 and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 start fighting. Uh, ok. The Anorexic 5000 says to Iceman, “If I wanted to be treated right, I wouldn’t be with you.” As I said last week, wow, she’s a real girl after all. Although maybe not because most women wouldn’t have the self-awareness to admit that. Yeah, making statements like that, it’s no wonder I’m single. Also, Tracy Flick installs a webcam so she can watch D-Nozz and Girl Who Looks Like She’s 14 have sex. OK, so that doesn’t really happen, but if I hadn’t said so, you totally would have believed it.