The View: Sigourney's Weaver

I am SO ANGRY I deleted The View from the DVR today (and not even on TiVo, so I can never get it back). Sigourney Weaver pulled a Basic Instinct during her segment today, and the ViewTube is not up yet.

Developing...

Celebrity Protuberance Watch - Elisabeth Hasselbeck

Just calling it right now. I think Elisabeth Hasselbeck is with child. She's looking a little fuller these days. Maybe it's an Election Night Baby!

Missouri Loves Fun, Sexy Company

So, yo.

After last night's death march through the scorching streets of Phoenix, I had dug deep, preparing myself for the horrors that awaited me in the second offering of auditions for this, the 8th season of the joy that is American Idol. I had embraced all of the breeding that my Southern-fried mama has instilled in me by setting my expectations VERY low (it almost always assures you of being pleasantly surprised).

You know what? I was.

Kansas City, while certainly serving up its share of hot messes, had quite a number of folks who can say, with confidence, that "it" was brough'en!

I need to get something off my chest, however, before I delve any deeper into tonight's standouts:

If I NEVER hear Somewhere Over The Rainbow again, it will be too soon. There. I've said it. YES. I'll grant you that it's a great song. But it's been far-too-often butchered and used as a weapon against the eardrums of innocent souls like myself. Seriously ... what did I ever do to that song that would make it hate me so very, very much? It should be banned from AI, along with Something to Talk About and Black Velvet, as well as the collective songbooks of Mari-ugh Carey, Whitney 'Crack Is Whack' Houston, and Stevie Wonder (not that I disparage Mr. Wonder in the least).

*steps down off of soapbox*

Where was I? Oh, right. Kansas City.

• Ashley Anderson. While she might not be the BEST singer ever to appear on this show, she's surely one of the craftiest. She opted to sing a Leona Lewis song, which, coincidentally, was penned by one Simon Cowell. Even though she muffed the words a little, she was in like Flynn. A note, however: I don't care if you ARE 6'4", it's not necessary to wear earrings so large that a Shih Tzu could jump through them.
• Casey Carlson. She is the poster child for all-American cuteness. She went to the Carrie Underwood School for Middle-American Wholesomeness (and doubtless graduated summa cum laude). She has a decent voice, though she could give John Moschitta a run for his fast-talking money.

As a side note, I need to mention that this show may have the greatest editors ever to walk the planet. Tonight's Montage of Tears was one of the funniest things I've seen in a while.

• Von Smith. I'm going to overlook the fact that he hurt my feelings by singing The Song That Shall Not Be Named (see above) because he's got real potential. He's either going to go VERY far, or he'll crash and burn right away. Hard to tell. But he's got something.
• Michael Castro. Ahhh ... nepotism. Gotta love it. The 20-year-old brother of last year's 4th runner up, Jason "I Wish I Was Jack Johnson" Castro, just started singing about 3 weeks prior to the audition. And you know what? He wasn't bad. He sang a Gavin DeGraw song, which probably wasn't such a good idea, but at least he didn't sing I Don't Want To Be, which should be retired, along with the rest of the of songs listed above.
• Matt Breitzke. He's sort of a loveable teddy bear type. He's a welder; another real man's man (like last night's oil derrick guy). For me, he was kind of ahead of the game, because he chose to sing Ain't No Sunshine, which is one of my mostest favoritest songs of all-time. He was NOT BAD. Not GREAT, but not bad.
  
• Jessica Furney. She's another one of those sweet n' wholesome farm-raised, milk-fed types. Cute. As. A. Button. And she sang the tar out of some Janis Joplin, so she scored major points right there.
• Danny Gokey. Oh, Danny, Danny, Danny. Even if you didn't look like the second coming of Robert Downey, Jr., you'd have me completely sold. THIS guy is the real deal. He's got everything. If there's one place THIS Danny is NOT going, it's to the lumberyard. He's got Top 10 written all over him, easy. LOVE. HIM.
  
• Anoop Desai. He's the Freshmaker. Refreshingly geeky, curiously talented. He's like a musical Altoid.
  
• Asa Barnes. Junior High School band leader. Even though he sang a Michael Jackson song (something that generally falls under the heading of "Not The Best Idea"), I liked this guy. Totally unpretentious, good role-model type and totally self-effacing. And he can actually sing (which is a bonus in a show that is, ostensibly, about singing talent).
• Lil Rounds. Sounds like something that doctors do on their off-hours, or some newfangled dog treat, but no, it's actually a name. She's another one who is gonna get a big dose of sympathy vote, because she has a Sad Story. She's got a really good, strong, truly soulful voice and I think she'll be right in the thick of things til close to the end.
  

In all, 27 folks got the nod to go on to Hollywood, most of them actually deserved it, I think. Certainly more so than Bikini Girl (who, in the immortal words of Jon Stewart, needs a cunch to the pooter).

Fingers crossed that the next two weeks will be as merciful as tonight's romp through KCMO!

Blogged with the Flock Browser

It's Fun, It's Sexy ... It's Phoenix!

So, it's like, minus eleventy degrees here on the East Coast and watching last night's Season 8 Premiere of American Idol and its crop of auditioners from hot, steamy Phoenix has left me more than a little embittered.

But this isn't about me, now, is it?

This is about the giant, sucking musical void that apparently exists in the state of south-central Arizona. We'll call it the Grand Abyss. Let's examine what went down, shall we?

First and foremost, I've gotta say that I have something of a girl-crush on new, and 4th, judge Kara (pronounced CARE-a, not CAR-a) DioGuardi, simply because (A) she clearly has some chops and (B) she had the brass tacks to call one of the female contestants a word that generally doesn't go over well with women (see #8 below). She's gonna bring a whole new brand of crazy to the judges table. Fine family fun.

Other than that, I had a few observations:

(1) The Coca-Cola Company would like to remind you to recycle.
(2) Emily Hughes was one of two bright spots among the smallish group of auditioners who have made it through to the Hollywood round, but will likely go no further. She sang the CRAP out of Barracuda (which is no small feat). Let's hope her life plan of covering herself with as many tattoos and piercings as possible, in order to keep herself away from a desk job, works out for her.
(3) Having a seismically-low deep bass voice does NOT make you Barry White. Too bad for Elijah Scarlett.
(4) Sometimes, being likeable is enough. Just ask Michael Sarver, manly-man oil rig worker and overall nice guy.
(5) Lea Marie Golde, the nasally DioGuardi stalker, reminded me a heckuva lot of Lara Flynn Boyle's "psycho hosebeast" character from Wayne's World. She had the cute, Ivory Girl face, but her eyes said "helter skelter!"
(6) As far as Simon Cowell is concerned, a healthy knowledge of world geography has direct bearing on your ability to make it as a pop star. Lucky for Alex Wagner-Trugman (aka Mold Boy), he was a brainiac (c'mon ... he pulled Abkhazia!) and, since he had gotten himself, quite literally (figuratively, too, I'm guessing), out of the closet, earned himself a ticket to "The Show".
(7) There were TWO bright spots to be found in the endless parade of suck. The first was tattoo girl. The second was Scott McIntyre, or the person who's gonna end up being known as "the blind guy". His voice was great, and if he gets a chance to play his piano during the competition, it's gonna be game, set and match.
(8) I'm not going to mention her by name, because that would validate her existence, but Bikini Girl needs to be punched in the hoo-hah. Seriously.

So, that's it for me for Phoenix. Tonight, we're on to Kansas City: home of ribs, great chili and David Cook. With luck, SOMEONE will show some promise. Or at least share a good recipe for BBQ.

Sweatin' to the Funness & Sexiness

Is this some sort of new fitness regimen that Richard Simmons has dreamed up? Deal-A-Poonanny?

Fun, Sexy, Pathetic

I must say that I'm a pretty jaded celeb watcher. Every interview that used to be so exciting before the late '90s weekly rag onslaught is now nothing but regurgitated spin. I even cancelled my Us Weekly subscription (I know, finally) because every other week featured the two-headed beast known as Speidi (AKA the only "celebs" willing to give this mag exclusives).

That said, there are a few stars who never cease to peak my interest. One of those celebs is Jennifer Garner (whom I saw in Cyrano last year on Broadway, and who was just ai'ight for me for her). I think she's pretty much adorable, and I think Alias is trashy goodness (I used to think it was just straight up goodness, a la Felicity or Lost, but it's pretty much ridiculous).

So, for the past few weeks I've been checking the Celebrity Baby Blog hourly to see if she's managed to release the latest Affleck child into the world. It seems she made that happen yesterday. Another girl. Way to go. Can't wait to find out the name.

Which celebrities have managed to hold your interest despite all the over-exposure and over-spin?

American Idol = Fun + Sexy x Crazy Ass Crazy

Hi, Friends!

As some of you may know, I've written about the yearly televised Godzilla American Idol for a few years now over at PhillyBurbs.com. As it seems that neither the current cloud of these economic times nor Rod Blagojevich's giant taint have yet to touch the niche blogging industry, I will be blogging over there once again. After a few years of Sanjayas and crazy Paulas and Randy's sparkle cowboy shirts, I'm feeling TIRED. So, my question for you is -- What do you want out of your Idol blog reading experience?

I'm looking for new ideas and challenges. Basically, I want you to do the hard part of my job for me. What kinds of posts do you want to see? What do you definitely not want to see? If you had been a reader of my posts previously, what worked and what didn't? I write to serve you.

Love.

Fun! Sexy! Truthy!

Ahhhh ... The Holiday Season is over. Officially. I say again, "Ahhhhh!"

Ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you that there is no one who loves Christmas -- the whole holiday season, actually -- more than I. I love the lights. I love the tradition. I love the 75% OFF, EVERYTHING MUST GO, GO, GO! sales at every turn. But even I have my limits. And I, for one, am delighted to turn the page and see what January will bring.

The Golden Globes!
American Idol!
The Oscars!
Other stuff I don't really care about!

There are two things, however, about which I am most excited in this new year: the returns of Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert to the airwaves. I depend on these two stalwarts of journalism to keep me abreast of the latest goings-on on this big blue marble we call home. Their extended holiday vacations left me woefully (or is it blissfully) uninformed and forced me to turn to hacks like John King and David Gregory to get my "facts".

For the remainder of this week, Jon Stewart's guests will be the brilliant, fun, possibly sexy, definitely awesome Rachel Maddow (who looks curiously like Elvis Costello) and White House Press Secretary Dana Perino (which will doubtless be nothing short of glorious). On Colbert, you'll see Benicio "Mushmouth" Del Toro and author Lawrence Lessig.

I'm glad you're back, gentlemen. A sense of peace, harmony and factose intolerance has returned to my life.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Crisis in the Senate - Deliberative Disorder

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Better Know a District - Utah's 3rd - Jason Chaffetz

Colbert at Christmas
Colbert Christmas DVD

Green Screen
Bill O'Reilly Interview

Talk To The Fun, Sexy Hand!

I've made no secret of the fact that I find The View to be vapid and patently unwatchable (sorry, Augie ... I know how you feel about Joy Behar's smooth n' velvety voice). I actually think its existence is one of the signs of the End of Days, sort of like Jimmy Dean Pancakes & Sausage On A Stick (there just aren't enough meats on sticks) or the presence of Sarah Palin on a Presidential election ticket.

Where was I? Oh, right. Daytime talk show drivel.

Yesterday, the show where seemingly-intelligent women go to fester and rot dealt me a moment of pure, unadulterated, laugh-out-loud glee. It would seem that Sherri Shepherd (the current, and probably just as disposable, Star Jones, who apparently thinks the world is flat) and her son did their best to annoy the crap out of Jeremy "Let's Hug It Out, Bitch" Piven on a recent flight from somewhere to somewhere (I feel for you, Mr. Piven).

While it was no real revelation that this woman is vehemently vexatious, I DID discover one tiny thing: I might actually have a glimmer of respect for Baba Wawa. Her flat-out, audaciously derisive reaction to Ms. Shepherd's little anecdote is glorious. You GO, you bitter ol' thing, you!

Fun, Sexy New Year

Hi, all!

I've been spending a lot of time with my new bestie, the Amazon Kindle, so I feel like I've been neglecting the Internets. Good thing for my intellect, bad for the blog. I did want to write a post to wish you all a healthy, happy New Year. You can start by detoxing with Gwyneth. But remember:

If your bowel movements get sluggish, you can accelerate things by drinking half a cup of castor oil or using a mild herbal laxative. Bowel elimination is paramount for correct detoxification.

That's more information than I need to have about a former Oscar winner.

I also wanted to tell you about the amazing thing that happened to me on New Year's Eve. I. Had. Fun.

I am a big Scrooge McDuck about any holiday whose sole purpose is to give amateurs the excuse to drink copiously or hit unsuspecting victims with shaving cream and eggs or to nearly set my garage on fire with their illegal fireworks. My top 5 most despised holidays are New Year's Eve, Halloween, St. Patrick's Day, 4th of July, and frakkin' Pulaski Day. If I lived anywhere else, I'd probably include Fat Tuesday in the list, but here in Chicago we care more about consuming lethal doses of paczkis than lethal does of alcohol on that particular day. And who doesn't like doughnuts?

This New Year's Eve, I had the best excuse to stay in -- the infant. The husband and I decided we were going to stay in and order a Lobstergram. We were not going to actively pursue merriment outside the confines of our home. Word got out about this, and a few of our friends thought it sounded like fun and we invited them over. We decided instead of ordering Lobsters, we'd go to that great seafood haven, Costco, and see what we could find.

I stayed at home while the shopping occurred. If they came home with nothing, at least I'd have asparagus and molton chocolate cake for them to eat. If the cake didn't turn out, I'd have ice cream. At around five o'clock, my sister-in-law showed up at my door with boxes of food -- frozen seafood appetizers, shrimp, scallops, crab legs, and beef tenderloin. Thus we started our Iron Chef kamakaze cooking. Everyone helped out with the food. I was most impressed with my brother's garlic shrimp. The whole cooking process took us to about 7:00. We ate, then played Celebrities (lots of Chicago politicians included in the mix). After that, it was about 11:00. We watched two local news personalities flirt their way, inappropriately, into the New Year. Then we had some champagne, sent some gratuitous text messages, and settled in for some Karaoke Revolution.

The evening was fun, exciting (the secret ingredient is -- surf and turf!), and spent with good friends (and the cake was delicious, if I do say so myself).

Here's to an equally fun and exciting New Year for all y'all!

The Leastest Fun, Leastest Sexiest Dance Show Ever

You remember Michael Flatley? The self-proclaimed "Lord of the Dance" should, perhaps, consider a new title after last night's premiere of Superstars of Dance, the brainchild of American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance? producer Nygel Lythgoe. Somehing like "Jester of Dance". As an aside, Mr. Lythgoe didn't NEED another dance show, as SYTYCD is already the bomb diggity, yo. It is fun, it is sexy -- nay SMOLDERING -- and it doesn't have Michael Flatley, which I consider a rather good thing.

The new show, which will air starting tonight, at its "regular" time (I put "regular" in quotes, because if it lasts another week, I'll eat my Ugg boots. Which, from a fashion perspective might be a good thing, as it's been pointed out that they are heinously ugly in spite of their delicious comfortableness. But I digress ...) on NBC at 8EST/7CEN, is billed as "an intoxicating mix of cultures", but it's pretty much just a celebration of cheese. And not even good cheese.

The one thing that this 2-hour cavalcade of dreck DID have was Robert Muraine. For those of you who're fans of So You Think You Can Dance?, you'll remember him as "Mr. Fantastic", or the guy who was able to do all of those insanely freakish, wonderfully awesome, defy-the-laws-of-physics-and-anatomy things to his body. Sadly, this show even managed to steal some of HIS thunder, which is really hard, as you'll see in the video -- a clip from his audition for SYTYCD last year.

Save yourself the agony. SKIP the show. Watch the video. You'll be up in the game by 113 minutes.

You can thank me later.

The 2008 Least Funny and Sexy Movies of the Year

Though I managed to avoid a lot of the crap, I couldn't sidestep it all. 2008 was rife with movie dung. Pretty much the first nine months of the year was a veritable wasteland of doody with a few golden nuggets thrown in for good measure. End the poop imagery.

In no real order, here are the worst of the worst:

Harold and Kumar Escape from Gitmo. I really liked the White Castle version of this movie. I LUUUURVE me some NPH. Alas, I knew I was in trouble when the first two minutes of the movie included both fecal and wang cider humor. Didn't that stop being funny around Van Wilder time?

The Love Guru. Mike Meyers has not come up with a new joke since 2001. It's almost a little bit sad to see what he's become, but it's really more about the Shadenfreude.

Tropic Thunder. I realize I may be in the minority on this one, but I thought this movie was an incredibly stale caricature of the film industry. I had very high hopes for this movie, but I thought almost every "insight" revealed about Hollywood could've been made by any casual observer of popular culture or watcher of Entourage. Even Robert Downey, Jr. was a tad disappointing. Tom Cruise's performance has been way overrated. A fat suit and bald cap do not equal funny. The only funny parts? The faux film previews and the full retard conversation. Otherwise? Blah.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. George Lucas, you are wearing no clothes. This movie was one of the most disappointing of the year. Horrible title? Check. A crystal skull constructed from last year's Christmas and Halloween decorations from Michaels? Check. Bored, over-the-hill Harrison Ford? Check. A bizarre performance by one of the most talented actresses in the world? Check. ALIENS!?!? Check.

Australia. Nicole Kidman should just enjoy her time in Tennessee and stop making movies. Hugh Jackman had nothing to work with. And my sweet Baz, what happened to you? This movie almost makes Pearl Harbor look like Gone With the Wind.

Other films that sucked, but really had no hope of not sucking: What Happens in Vegas, Fool's Gold

Decent Ideas that Fell Very, Very Short: Vantage Point and The Bucket List

Movies That Should've Sucked, But Didn't: Don't Mess With the Zohan; 27 Dresses; Welcome Home, Roscoe Jenkins

Worst Movie Going Experience: Run, Fat Boy, Run where someone behind me kept coughing up a lung every five minutes.

Best Actor of a Mediocre to Bad Film: James Marsden, 27 Dresses, who solidified his status as under-the radar super-stud

Casting that Pretty Much Ruined the Movie for Me: Angelina Jolie in Wanted, who could not possibly have lifted any of those guns in real life. And she takes herself way too seriously. I just don't like her. Anyway.