“American Sniper”
Didn't see it. Probably will never see it. I don't like movies that glorify war unless it's World War II and the movie is "Patton," which is one of the most kick-ass movies of all time. I mean, I don't know if this movie glorifies war but probably.
“Birdman”
Didn't see it. Is this the one with Michael Keaton? He hasn't made a good movie since Beetlejuice, tbh.
“Boyhood”
Didn't see it. This is the one where Richard Linklater kept showing up at this kid's house every couple of years with "Hey, wanna do some more filming?" SO. FUCKING. SKETCHY. If you were that kid's mom, wouldn't you be like "Umm, sorry Mr. Linklater, he's busy this week." Also starring Ethan Hawke and his One Facial Expression.
“The Grand Budapest Hotel”
DID SEE IT. A couple of nights ago on HBO. Pretty good! Not as good as "Rushmore" or "The Royal Tenenbaums." Anyway I'm sure it's brilliant and everything. It's not very funny, though.
“The Imitation Game”
Didn't see it. It's the one with the British guy right?
“Selma”
Didn't see it.
“The Theory of Everything”
Wait, this is a different movie from "The Imitation Game"?
“Whiplash”
This would be a good title for a Fast & Furious movie. Like "Fast & Furious 8: Whiplash!" But I gather it's not that. It's about jazz and has the psychologist from Law & Order. NEXT.
NOTABLE OMISSIONS: Steve Carell nose movie, Did Scorsese make a movie this year?, That movie based on the book everybody liked, That movie where a white guy learned something important about himself, The Hungry Games.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
The Bachelor: Give me your crazy, your drunk, your huddled simpletons yearning to read
Before we can get started on our dates this week there's some garbage time about how Yoga Kimberly who got kicked off last week wants to get back on and OH WHATEVER SHALL WE DO and brows are furrowed and eventually Kimberly is readmitted into the pack and the other chicks look at her like she's Al Sharpton at a Klan rally. IN ANOTHER BIT OF SHOCKING NEWS we are informed that Farmer Chris's bachleor pad is not on some distant isle but LO, JUST AT THE END OF THE DRIVEWAY. Whatever.
Group Date with some of them give me a break it's too early to learn all their names yet. The Scream of Chicks reports to what appears to be a faceless office building in LA but is actually 1010 Wilshire, "a new lifestyle solution for professionals wanting to live, work, and play" which sounds like it could be anything from a nutritional supplement to an app but is actually rental units with you guessed it a rooftop pool. Based on what I know from the Bachelor, every building in LA is equipped with a rooftop pool and a set of stemless wineglasses.
Meanwhile, back at the Female Farm, the News Producer who has apparently decided to produce herself out of bikini bottoms forcing ABC to black box her private area and Megan the Simple with her Life Helmet on have decided to burgle Chris's quarters.
We return to the Group Date where the next event, inevitably, is Bikini Tractor Racing, which I think Tara does professionally.
Periodic reminder that I love Tara. Her tagline is "Sport Fishing Enthusiast" which is code for something dirty or illegal but I haven't figured it out yet. Anyway, the producers have fixed the tractors so they can only go 3 mph to make a sad commentary on the state of the family farm.
Post tractoring C culls Kids Having Kids McKenzie or MacKenzie or whatever from the herd probably to take her for soft serve or to see Frozen. Oh wait they're going to some bar called "The Escondite" which bills itself on its website as being in "SKIDROWKYO" in case you had the idea that SF had a monopoly on repellent neighborhood monikers. Anyway, McK is a little crazy and nobody told her you don't bust out with "Do you believe in aliens" on the first date!
Solo date with Megan the Simple.
In the limo she says, no joke, "I just read the word airport" so GRAPE JOB MEGAN!!!!! You get a treat. They private jet to Vegas and then take the whirly stick machine up in the sky! SECOND ACTUAL MEGAN QUOTE: "The butterflies in my stomach are just colorful and smiling and fluttering all over the place." Jesus fucking Christ. Anyway, they chopper to the Grand Canyon where Megan reveals that her Dad just had a heart attack and got brain damage but Mom told her to go on the show anyway! C feels like "there is something here" but it's clearly not crossword puzzle answers or the ability to read a fast food menu. Megan may be sweet but she is dumber than a roomful of mutes.
ANOTHER FUCKING GROUP DATE with like 20 of them. Apparently Zombie Paintball is a thing? I don't know. It's some fake movie set and the chix all wander around shooting people who have the Worst Job in America with paintball guns.
OK, we have to talk about Brooklyn Ashley (who I mistakenly said was kicked off last week) because it's very sad. Either she ate a ton of fucking mushrooms right before this or had a mental break on camera because she spent most of the segment wandering aimlessly around the set and saying things like "Boom, go find your own way, you know, the truth" and "Are we in Mesa Verde?" Then she sat down to talk to the cat. Seriously, what the fucking fuck. Some other shit happened I guess but this conflagration of crazy kind of stole the show. YOU DO YOU BROOKLYN ASHLEY.
Let's jump to the Cocktail Party. Hopefully Ashley's cocktail is Risperdal and Thorazine. Some Other Ashley comes out as a virgin to Teen Mom who opines that "Guys like taking your virginity!" in such a disturbingly perky way that makes me think there might be more than one dude who thinks he deflowered McKenzie. Armed with this insider info Ashley the Virgin approaches C and engages in some kind of bizarre belly ring ceremony that ultimately results in them slapping their faces together like fur seals. Later, Possibly Black Amber also gets in on the face sucking which drives Drunk Jordan into a drunken drunk furor.
I'm loving all the drunks this season! Anyway, Drunk Jordan advances on C and starts yelling nonsensically at him like they're in a college sports bar and Guns N Roses is blasting. She is literally just stringing random words together. LOVE YA JORD.
Let's hand out some roses. Britt, duh, the Virgin, Who the Fuck Is Trina, the Widow Kelsey, SaMANtha, Surprise Also a Widow Juealia or however it's spelled, Possibly Black Amber, Tracey or Tracy, Jillian, Jade, Nicki or Mickey or something, Becka, Carly, Baby Voice, and YAY KRAZEE ASHLEY!!!!
As much as I long to see Ashley get dosed again, my heart is heavy, for C has excused Team Highball! Oh man, no, no, NOT TARA!!!! You did not just cut Tara. Fuck you, Chris. We're losing Tara AND Jordan? Me and Don Julio both weep for our bleak future.
Group Date with some of them give me a break it's too early to learn all their names yet. The Scream of Chicks reports to what appears to be a faceless office building in LA but is actually 1010 Wilshire, "a new lifestyle solution for professionals wanting to live, work, and play" which sounds like it could be anything from a nutritional supplement to an app but is actually rental units with you guessed it a rooftop pool. Based on what I know from the Bachelor, every building in LA is equipped with a rooftop pool and a set of stemless wineglasses.
Meanwhile, back at the Female Farm, the News Producer who has apparently decided to produce herself out of bikini bottoms forcing ABC to black box her private area and Megan the Simple with her Life Helmet on have decided to burgle Chris's quarters.
We return to the Group Date where the next event, inevitably, is Bikini Tractor Racing, which I think Tara does professionally.
Periodic reminder that I love Tara. Her tagline is "Sport Fishing Enthusiast" which is code for something dirty or illegal but I haven't figured it out yet. Anyway, the producers have fixed the tractors so they can only go 3 mph to make a sad commentary on the state of the family farm.
Post tractoring C culls Kids Having Kids McKenzie or MacKenzie or whatever from the herd probably to take her for soft serve or to see Frozen. Oh wait they're going to some bar called "The Escondite" which bills itself on its website as being in "SKIDROWKYO" in case you had the idea that SF had a monopoly on repellent neighborhood monikers. Anyway, McK is a little crazy and nobody told her you don't bust out with "Do you believe in aliens" on the first date!
Solo date with Megan the Simple.
In the limo she says, no joke, "I just read the word airport" so GRAPE JOB MEGAN!!!!! You get a treat. They private jet to Vegas and then take the whirly stick machine up in the sky! SECOND ACTUAL MEGAN QUOTE: "The butterflies in my stomach are just colorful and smiling and fluttering all over the place." Jesus fucking Christ. Anyway, they chopper to the Grand Canyon where Megan reveals that her Dad just had a heart attack and got brain damage but Mom told her to go on the show anyway! C feels like "there is something here" but it's clearly not crossword puzzle answers or the ability to read a fast food menu. Megan may be sweet but she is dumber than a roomful of mutes.
ANOTHER FUCKING GROUP DATE with like 20 of them. Apparently Zombie Paintball is a thing? I don't know. It's some fake movie set and the chix all wander around shooting people who have the Worst Job in America with paintball guns.
OK, we have to talk about Brooklyn Ashley (who I mistakenly said was kicked off last week) because it's very sad. Either she ate a ton of fucking mushrooms right before this or had a mental break on camera because she spent most of the segment wandering aimlessly around the set and saying things like "Boom, go find your own way, you know, the truth" and "Are we in Mesa Verde?" Then she sat down to talk to the cat. Seriously, what the fucking fuck. Some other shit happened I guess but this conflagration of crazy kind of stole the show. YOU DO YOU BROOKLYN ASHLEY.
Let's jump to the Cocktail Party. Hopefully Ashley's cocktail is Risperdal and Thorazine. Some Other Ashley comes out as a virgin to Teen Mom who opines that "Guys like taking your virginity!" in such a disturbingly perky way that makes me think there might be more than one dude who thinks he deflowered McKenzie. Armed with this insider info Ashley the Virgin approaches C and engages in some kind of bizarre belly ring ceremony that ultimately results in them slapping their faces together like fur seals. Later, Possibly Black Amber also gets in on the face sucking which drives Drunk Jordan into a drunken drunk furor.
I'm loving all the drunks this season! Anyway, Drunk Jordan advances on C and starts yelling nonsensically at him like they're in a college sports bar and Guns N Roses is blasting. She is literally just stringing random words together. LOVE YA JORD.
Let's hand out some roses. Britt, duh, the Virgin, Who the Fuck Is Trina, the Widow Kelsey, SaMANtha, Surprise Also a Widow Juealia or however it's spelled, Possibly Black Amber, Tracey or Tracy, Jillian, Jade, Nicki or Mickey or something, Becka, Carly, Baby Voice, and YAY KRAZEE ASHLEY!!!!
As much as I long to see Ashley get dosed again, my heart is heavy, for C has excused Team Highball! Oh man, no, no, NOT TARA!!!! You did not just cut Tara. Fuck you, Chris. We're losing Tara AND Jordan? Me and Don Julio both weep for our bleak future.
Monday, January 12, 2015
Debra J. Saunders, not content to merely rest on her laurels, pens column so brain-numbingly stupid it's below even her ultra-low standards
Why do I do this to myself. Why do I click on a Debra J. Saunders column knowing - KNOWING - that the stupid will come tumbling out like a ruptured dog shit bag. Why. Why.
Let's start, as we must, with a Debra J. Saunders patented NO RELATION TO THE TRUTH OR ANYTHING ACCURATE HEADLINE:
The problem with this inanity, of course, is that there is no "Obamacare czar" and even if there was, it would not be Dr. Ezekiel J. Emanuel, who doesn't even work for the federal government. At one point in time, he was a health care adviser to the president, but that doesn't make him an "Obamacare czar" any more than once flying coach on United makes Debra J. Saunders a fighter pilot.
Here's how this vapid piece of semi-literate garbage begins:
Debra's belief that an op-ed can kill her is roughly consistent with her level of intellect and understanding of Emanuel's column. Anyway, if you read the actual column, it's based on a study of 182,000 people over 9 years that found that annual checkups "are unlikely to be beneficial."
Big fucking deal. So don't get an annual physical if you feel fine, right? NOPE. In the fevered imagination of Debra J. Saunders, this the #Benghazi of health care.
And finally, Debra J. Saunders, Dr. Emanuel is not empowered to control how often anyone sees the doctor, so if you want to have 14 physicals a year, and you can find a doctor as equally stupid as you, go for it.
Let's start, as we must, with a Debra J. Saunders patented NO RELATION TO THE TRUTH OR ANYTHING ACCURATE HEADLINE:
Obamacare czar: don’t get annual physical
The problem with this inanity, of course, is that there is no "Obamacare czar" and even if there was, it would not be Dr. Ezekiel J. Emanuel, who doesn't even work for the federal government. At one point in time, he was a health care adviser to the president, but that doesn't make him an "Obamacare czar" any more than once flying coach on United makes Debra J. Saunders a fighter pilot.
Here's how this vapid piece of semi-literate garbage begins:
This opinion piece kills me. Ezekiel J. Emanuel, brother of Rahm, is a former senior health care adviser to President Obama. Now he writes a piece in The New York Times telling people to skip their annual physical. It says, “Most think of it as the human equivalent of a 15,000-mile checkup and fluid change, which can uncover hidden problems and ensure longer engine life.”
“There is only one problem: From a health perspective, the annual physical exam is basically worthless.”
Debra's belief that an op-ed can kill her is roughly consistent with her level of intellect and understanding of Emanuel's column. Anyway, if you read the actual column, it's based on a study of 182,000 people over 9 years that found that annual checkups "are unlikely to be beneficial."
Big fucking deal. So don't get an annual physical if you feel fine, right? NOPE. In the fevered imagination of Debra J. Saunders, this the #Benghazi of health care.
Remember the 2008 sales pitch about how universal health care would mean regular doctor visits that would keep people healthier and hence out of the pricey emergency room? That’s how Obamacare would cover more people without driving up costs — that was the con-job argument anyway. In that spirit, the Affordable Care Act considers the annual physical to be an “essential benefit” for which there is no co-payment.Oh God, Debra J. Saunders. I hope this is an act because if you're actually this stupid I fear for your safety when handling scissors or alighting upon a curb. If there is something wrong with you, it is demonstrably true that a doctor's office visit is cheaper than going to the emergency room. And perhaps some people - like those with chronic health problems - need annual physicals. What the Emanuel op-ed says that if you're otherwise healthy, studies show that an annual physical is unlikely to confer health benefits. Why is that so hard to understand?
And finally, Debra J. Saunders, Dr. Emanuel is not empowered to control how often anyone sees the doctor, so if you want to have 14 physicals a year, and you can find a doctor as equally stupid as you, go for it.
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Let's make fun of some city flags!
Via Burrito Justice, I have learned that the North American Vexillogical Association, which is an organization devoted to flags and not to bothering people, as you might imagine, did a survey of city flags in 2004 and published the "winners." (I'm not linking to the survey directly because when I clicked on it my computer's virus protection FREAKED OUT and so the NAVA may have some evil computer infiltrating motive I'm not aware of. Anyway.)
Most of them are depressingly similar. A couple of stars, some color swatches, maybe a banner, a dude on a horse or in a boat, let's call it a day. Some are worth looking at, though.
#1 was Washington DC.
YAWN. Whatever. It's got some bars, it's got some stars, it's got one color, red. It would make a passable airline logo. Best city flag? Not even
#2 was Chicago. It's another bore, but at least it has some blue. #3 was Denver.
Flag, or logo of the Mid-Mountain Mining and Materials Corp.? You decide.
St. Louis, at #5, I kinda like, because it looks like it was designed by a drunk:
WHOA DUDE. STOP WIGGLING. Gotta admit, it's got some flava.
Colorado Springs, at #19, is....interesting.
That is some straight-up Yellow King shit right there. Or maybe they're going for an African mask-kinda vibe?
I like it!
#23 St. Petersburg FL features a logo from an Op shirt I had in the later 80s:
Anchorage (#29) is basically a beer company logo.
Birmingham (#39) straight-up looks like a lesser-known Communist country. Maybe in Central America?
I bet you 90% of Birminghamians of whateverTF they are would flip their fucking lids if they knew this was their flag.
I like that Fort Worth (#67) isn't gonna keep anyone guessing.
Ugly and obvious, just like everything else in Texas!
Lincoln Nebraska (#88) would like you to know WE HAVE NO SHORTCOMING IN ANY DEPARTMENT!!!
And so forth. Most of them are just boring, like I said. Want to see a real shitshow, though?
Untington! Oh, shit, wait, is that thing an "H"? Or what the fuck is that thing? I guess it's an H. Huntington will be geared for progress once it can figure out how to draw a fucking H.
Everyone knows that SF has the best flag. It was #35.
*sniff*
Most of them are depressingly similar. A couple of stars, some color swatches, maybe a banner, a dude on a horse or in a boat, let's call it a day. Some are worth looking at, though.
#1 was Washington DC.
YAWN. Whatever. It's got some bars, it's got some stars, it's got one color, red. It would make a passable airline logo. Best city flag? Not even
#2 was Chicago. It's another bore, but at least it has some blue. #3 was Denver.
Flag, or logo of the Mid-Mountain Mining and Materials Corp.? You decide.
St. Louis, at #5, I kinda like, because it looks like it was designed by a drunk:
WHOA DUDE. STOP WIGGLING. Gotta admit, it's got some flava.
Colorado Springs, at #19, is....interesting.
That is some straight-up Yellow King shit right there. Or maybe they're going for an African mask-kinda vibe?
I like it!
#23 St. Petersburg FL features a logo from an Op shirt I had in the later 80s:
Anchorage (#29) is basically a beer company logo.
Birmingham (#39) straight-up looks like a lesser-known Communist country. Maybe in Central America?
I bet you 90% of Birminghamians of whateverTF they are would flip their fucking lids if they knew this was their flag.
I like that Fort Worth (#67) isn't gonna keep anyone guessing.
Ugly and obvious, just like everything else in Texas!
Lincoln Nebraska (#88) would like you to know WE HAVE NO SHORTCOMING IN ANY DEPARTMENT!!!
And so forth. Most of them are just boring, like I said. Want to see a real shitshow, though?
Untington! Oh, shit, wait, is that thing an "H"? Or what the fuck is that thing? I guess it's an H. Huntington will be geared for progress once it can figure out how to draw a fucking H.
Everyone knows that SF has the best flag. It was #35.
*sniff*
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
The Bachelor: Farmer in the Gel
One circle of Hell probably looks like a featureless, sunbaked street in Los Angeles County where a semiautonomous organism waves a "I [heart" Chris" sign that someone has handed her because that's where we're starting out this season. HI EVERYONE I'M WATCHING THE BACHELOR AGAIN because I have so much love to give. Apparently the first hour of the show is going to feature helicopterloads of prior contestants in some kind of faux Academy Awards red carpet show except with disease vectors instead of actors and lowered expectations instead of statuettes.
LET'S MEET OUR BACHELOR whom Chris Harrison gaggingly refers to as "Prince Farming" when Field of Screams or Plower Bouquet or Bodily Farm was available. Chris the Farm Man is proud to "feed the world" which means putting high fructose corn syrup into M&Ms. He wants what his parents and sisters have, which appears to be livestock with numbered tags in their ears. Since he has exhausted the romantic possibilities in Arlington Iowa, he feels that "this is the best way to find love," which means he has never heard of FarmersOnly.com. Chris dons a comically oversized motorcycle helmet and heads west to meet some emtpyheaded hair product support systems.
Back at the Oscars of Desperation, Chris Harrison is doing red carpet interviews with people I have only a vague memory of, while in the background cavort others we longed to forget like Droopy Face and Too Much Product and Who the Fuck Is She Again.
Let's bounce and meet some chicks. Britt is a waitress in Hollywood and looks like an Olsen twin on a crash diet in a concentration camp. There is a not zero chance she's done coke with James Woods. Amanda is a ballet instructor with Keane painting eyes and a legitimately krazee vibe. Whitney is a "fertility nurse" who has found the perfect job for someone with the voice of a toddler. She longs to be fertilized as well! Kelsey is an exotic-looking widow in Austin whose husband's heart just stopped one day! If he was walking in Austin anytime between May and September I can understand.
Cut to the Red Carpet where there is a Nixon-Frost length interview with Nikki about Juan Pablo and her life and anything else in the entire universe. Gotta put something in between yogurt commercials, I guess.
After an hour of bullshit and the Nikki Documentary, we're finally ready to get started. Following establishing shots of Chris trying on clothes for the first time ever and gettin his visage fixed with the pitcher machine, we're ready to start unloading the Cattle Cars. Out pops Britt who latches onto C like he's a kidney donor and she can't process waste. The Widow Kelsey claims to be "just a regular girl" but she's on this show so I'm not 100% sure about that. I was starting to think we were going to largely avoid Gimmick Intros when Human Tissue Salesgirl Reegan arrives with a biohazard container full of what she says is a human heart but is probably just human lungs or a spleen. Lame.
THEN THERE'S TARA. I kinda love Tara. She hops out in a Sexy Farmgirl Halloween costume with cowboy boots and Daisy Dukes and proceeds straight to the bar and orders a Jameson. SWOON. Then for some reason she changes into a cocktail dress and gets out of the limo again? Not sure why, but we get to see her killer White Trash Tatt:
It's kind of hard to read but I think it says either "LOVE IS PEE * BRIDE OF RESIN" or "FINE BY ME * WHISKEY & GINGER."
More chicks. Amanda takes her bipolar and goes flying by. Hairstylist Ashley says she's 24 but maybe means she's been a hairstylist for 24 years? I know Kaitlyn With a K is probably getting all the press for telling C "You can plow the fuck out of my field any day" but that's the Space Pants of farmer pickup lines. So played.
The ladies are at Cuban Missile Crisis levels of concern because THERE ARE ONLY 15 OF THEM. No one can process this world-shatteringly bizarre turn of events. OH WAIT IT'S CATTLE CAR ROUND 2. The First 15, now in various stages of intoxication, peer from behind the blinds as Wedding Cake Decorator and Tandra on the Motorcycle and Nicole Who Is Wearing a Pig Nose Not As a Statement on Society But For Other Inscrutable Reasons arrive. Karas and Jades and various other dubiously-employed lifeforms emerge. There are 30 women now! Or as DiCaprio calls it, Tuesday.
FINALLY, we are at the Cocktail Party, i.e. Lord of the Flies Sponsored by Sephora. C passes haplessly from Plus Size Model to Fourth Grade Teacher like a speed dating tetherball. My two fave drunks are Ashley from Brooklyn (not that Brooklyn, though - no full sleeves or dumb hat or boring anecdote about her solo show) and of course Tara, who winningly says she "cares for that kid," hopefully meaning C and not an actual child because Tara should not involved in any child care scenario. Human Teeth Whitener Britt gets the First Impression Rose, raising the combined IQ of her and the plant to 80. JUMP CUT back to the Live Show where Famous Loser Michelle Money meows "I heard she doesn't shower" about Britt. What the fuck Michelle.
ROSE CEREMONY. God, they better not do these fucking 3 hour shows every time. I'm barely keeping track at this point. Who's staying? Kaitlyn, Jade, Poor Man's Mischa Barton With Black Hair, The Widow Kelsey, Megan the Simple. Meanwhile Drunk Tara is hanging on like Just Standing There is a roadside DUI test. It's touch and go about whether she's gonna end up on the floor before this is over but YAY she gets a rose. Sadly, Ashley from Brooklyn does not. There are other roses given and withheld.
Meanwhile, Tara has confused her rose for Domino's and is going house on it.
My only wish for this season is a long run for Tara and a high enough Jameson budget to make it worthwhile. *winks* Love ya girl.
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: "I went to school for sports broadcast news but now I sell cadaver tissue." Has there ever been a better metaphor for life?
LET'S MEET OUR BACHELOR whom Chris Harrison gaggingly refers to as "Prince Farming" when Field of Screams or Plower Bouquet or Bodily Farm was available. Chris the Farm Man is proud to "feed the world" which means putting high fructose corn syrup into M&Ms. He wants what his parents and sisters have, which appears to be livestock with numbered tags in their ears. Since he has exhausted the romantic possibilities in Arlington Iowa, he feels that "this is the best way to find love," which means he has never heard of FarmersOnly.com. Chris dons a comically oversized motorcycle helmet and heads west to meet some emtpyheaded hair product support systems.
Back at the Oscars of Desperation, Chris Harrison is doing red carpet interviews with people I have only a vague memory of, while in the background cavort others we longed to forget like Droopy Face and Too Much Product and Who the Fuck Is She Again.
Let's bounce and meet some chicks. Britt is a waitress in Hollywood and looks like an Olsen twin on a crash diet in a concentration camp. There is a not zero chance she's done coke with James Woods. Amanda is a ballet instructor with Keane painting eyes and a legitimately krazee vibe. Whitney is a "fertility nurse" who has found the perfect job for someone with the voice of a toddler. She longs to be fertilized as well! Kelsey is an exotic-looking widow in Austin whose husband's heart just stopped one day! If he was walking in Austin anytime between May and September I can understand.
Cut to the Red Carpet where there is a Nixon-Frost length interview with Nikki about Juan Pablo and her life and anything else in the entire universe. Gotta put something in between yogurt commercials, I guess.
After an hour of bullshit and the Nikki Documentary, we're finally ready to get started. Following establishing shots of Chris trying on clothes for the first time ever and gettin his visage fixed with the pitcher machine, we're ready to start unloading the Cattle Cars. Out pops Britt who latches onto C like he's a kidney donor and she can't process waste. The Widow Kelsey claims to be "just a regular girl" but she's on this show so I'm not 100% sure about that. I was starting to think we were going to largely avoid Gimmick Intros when Human Tissue Salesgirl Reegan arrives with a biohazard container full of what she says is a human heart but is probably just human lungs or a spleen. Lame.
THEN THERE'S TARA. I kinda love Tara. She hops out in a Sexy Farmgirl Halloween costume with cowboy boots and Daisy Dukes and proceeds straight to the bar and orders a Jameson. SWOON. Then for some reason she changes into a cocktail dress and gets out of the limo again? Not sure why, but we get to see her killer White Trash Tatt:
It's kind of hard to read but I think it says either "LOVE IS PEE * BRIDE OF RESIN" or "FINE BY ME * WHISKEY & GINGER."
More chicks. Amanda takes her bipolar and goes flying by. Hairstylist Ashley says she's 24 but maybe means she's been a hairstylist for 24 years? I know Kaitlyn With a K is probably getting all the press for telling C "You can plow the fuck out of my field any day" but that's the Space Pants of farmer pickup lines. So played.
The ladies are at Cuban Missile Crisis levels of concern because THERE ARE ONLY 15 OF THEM. No one can process this world-shatteringly bizarre turn of events. OH WAIT IT'S CATTLE CAR ROUND 2. The First 15, now in various stages of intoxication, peer from behind the blinds as Wedding Cake Decorator and Tandra on the Motorcycle and Nicole Who Is Wearing a Pig Nose Not As a Statement on Society But For Other Inscrutable Reasons arrive. Karas and Jades and various other dubiously-employed lifeforms emerge. There are 30 women now! Or as DiCaprio calls it, Tuesday.
FINALLY, we are at the Cocktail Party, i.e. Lord of the Flies Sponsored by Sephora. C passes haplessly from Plus Size Model to Fourth Grade Teacher like a speed dating tetherball. My two fave drunks are Ashley from Brooklyn (not that Brooklyn, though - no full sleeves or dumb hat or boring anecdote about her solo show) and of course Tara, who winningly says she "cares for that kid," hopefully meaning C and not an actual child because Tara should not involved in any child care scenario. Human Teeth Whitener Britt gets the First Impression Rose, raising the combined IQ of her and the plant to 80. JUMP CUT back to the Live Show where Famous Loser Michelle Money meows "I heard she doesn't shower" about Britt. What the fuck Michelle.
ROSE CEREMONY. God, they better not do these fucking 3 hour shows every time. I'm barely keeping track at this point. Who's staying? Kaitlyn, Jade, Poor Man's Mischa Barton With Black Hair, The Widow Kelsey, Megan the Simple. Meanwhile Drunk Tara is hanging on like Just Standing There is a roadside DUI test. It's touch and go about whether she's gonna end up on the floor before this is over but YAY she gets a rose. Sadly, Ashley from Brooklyn does not. There are other roses given and withheld.
Meanwhile, Tara has confused her rose for Domino's and is going house on it.
My only wish for this season is a long run for Tara and a high enough Jameson budget to make it worthwhile. *winks* Love ya girl.
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: "I went to school for sports broadcast news but now I sell cadaver tissue." Has there ever been a better metaphor for life?
Monday, January 5, 2015
Friday, January 2, 2015
Exercise is getting weird
HOLY SHIT ARE YOU IN THE OFFICE TOO of course you are. Why would you be reading this on your own time? I can't believe we have to be at work. Fuck.
Anyway, it's a brand new year and that means everyone has decided to exercise for the first time. You could do normal things like that fake bicycle ride in the gym or running on a treadmill or lifting a heavy piece of furniture up and down but what's the fun in that? There is no fun in that.
Based on my observations, people exercising outside have collectively decided to just go "FUCK IT I'M DOING WHAT I WANT FUCK YOU WORLD." This very morning, driving through San Francisco's Golden Gate Park on my way to drop off my offspring at daycare, I personally and with me own eyes observed the following:
- One gentleman walking quickly/almost jogging in the bike lane, swinging his right arm back and forth in a wide arc as if to ward off a cloud of invisible flies that were surrounding and troubling him, or maybe pretending his arm was a single windshield wiper and his body was a car driving through a terrific rainstorm
- A lady fast-walking and rhythmically tapping herself on the head with BOTH HANDS, elbows at ear level, as if she was playing a simple drumbeat on the bongo that is her very own skull
- An otherwise normal-appearing jogger with those neon shoes everyone likes now, also running in the bike lane at a very high rate of speed and through an intersection against a red light as a bus bore down on him, making me believe I was about to see what literally "getting hit by a bus" looks like and wondering (not totally unreasonably) if this was going to make me late for work because I would have to give a statement to investigators while they placed pieces of the jogger and his ugly shoes into a bag
In fact, the Running in the Street thing (which is actually mostly Running in the Bike Lane) has become so prevalent that I see it on the reg now. What's up with that? Isn't there a perfectly good sidewalk for that? Is it revenge for bicyclists biking on the sidewalk?
One time I was driving AT NIGHT on a street with no bike lane and this girl was jogging in the street alongside all the parked cars WEARING BLACK. Either she had an exercise-related death wish or she was a terrible cat burglar making the world's worst escape from the scene of her latest cat burglary. Either way, I can't imagine she's still alive.
Anyway, it's a brand new year and that means everyone has decided to exercise for the first time. You could do normal things like that fake bicycle ride in the gym or running on a treadmill or lifting a heavy piece of furniture up and down but what's the fun in that? There is no fun in that.
Based on my observations, people exercising outside have collectively decided to just go "FUCK IT I'M DOING WHAT I WANT FUCK YOU WORLD." This very morning, driving through San Francisco's Golden Gate Park on my way to drop off my offspring at daycare, I personally and with me own eyes observed the following:
- One gentleman walking quickly/almost jogging in the bike lane, swinging his right arm back and forth in a wide arc as if to ward off a cloud of invisible flies that were surrounding and troubling him, or maybe pretending his arm was a single windshield wiper and his body was a car driving through a terrific rainstorm
- A lady fast-walking and rhythmically tapping herself on the head with BOTH HANDS, elbows at ear level, as if she was playing a simple drumbeat on the bongo that is her very own skull
- An otherwise normal-appearing jogger with those neon shoes everyone likes now, also running in the bike lane at a very high rate of speed and through an intersection against a red light as a bus bore down on him, making me believe I was about to see what literally "getting hit by a bus" looks like and wondering (not totally unreasonably) if this was going to make me late for work because I would have to give a statement to investigators while they placed pieces of the jogger and his ugly shoes into a bag
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| Google Image Search result for "weird exercise." YEP YEP YEP. |
In fact, the Running in the Street thing (which is actually mostly Running in the Bike Lane) has become so prevalent that I see it on the reg now. What's up with that? Isn't there a perfectly good sidewalk for that? Is it revenge for bicyclists biking on the sidewalk?
One time I was driving AT NIGHT on a street with no bike lane and this girl was jogging in the street alongside all the parked cars WEARING BLACK. Either she had an exercise-related death wish or she was a terrible cat burglar making the world's worst escape from the scene of her latest cat burglary. Either way, I can't imagine she's still alive.
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