Archive for December, 2006

I watch way too much TV, at least for someone who lives in a city with a bunch of shit happening all the time. Last night I couldn’t sleep so I watched even more than usual. I know, talking about a television show (or four) is conversational suicide and no one should do it. It’s stupid. It’s like telling a story that isn’t yours to someone who doesn’t care until the conversation dissolves into, “Uh-huh… uh-huh…………………………….. Uh-huh.” But I’m gonna do it anyway.

Futurama
Hells to the YEAH! New episodes are being produced RIGHT NOW and they will be ready in 2008. That’s a long way off, but we’re all kind of waiting for 2008 with joyful anticipation anyway, aren’t we? The interview with Executive Producer David X. Cohen leaks very little about what’s in store, but I’m excited to see what happens. Futurama is one of my favorite shows and the FOX network messed up royally when it didn’t give the show a fair chance.

Pee-Wee’s Playhouse Christmas Special
I think it’s pretty cool that Adult Swim runs Pee-Wee’s Playhouse sometimes, although most of my friends (a somewhat accurate sample of Adult Swim’s demographic) disagree. His Christmas special boasted a cast of the biggest stars of 1988. Whoopi Goldberg and Oprah called in, Frankie and Annette made Christmas cards, Cher talked to the Magic Screen, K.D. Lang and Charro did solo ballads of their favorite Christmas carols. It was a variety show of epic proportions, an entertainment extravaganza, a tantalizing star-gazing treat for… adults??

Right? I don’t remember 1988 very well, but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t watching this. Seriously, if you’re not old enough to drive (and maybe even if you are), you don’t know who all of these people are and you really don’t care. It was kind of neat to watch almost 20 years later, especially in light of the 80s nostalgia that unfortunately characterizes this time period. I guess the makers of this Christmas special did it more for the adults than the kids.

As I correctly guessed last night, this Christmas special aired in prime time. And as I fuzzily remember, the 80s were a time when most households still only had one “good” TV, so families were forced to watch each other’s sickening bullshit together instead of quietly retiring to their rooms to do what they want, which more kids have the luxury of doing now. So I guess back then producers had to make something for everyone. I would say I’d hate to have their job, but that’s not true. I’d absolutely love to have their job.

Anyway, after watching Pee-Wee, I caught my second wind and couldn’t fall asleep. So I did what anyone sitting alone after midnight would do if they had a ridiculously huge cable package. I turned on Cinemax.

Busty Cops II: Bigger and Better Busts (No link, no apology.)
Or something like that… who cares, right? So so SO very awful. I don’t think any porno meets the basic standards I set for movie-viewing (realistic settings, interesting plots, actors who remember their lines), but this one was worse than most. I watched bits and pieces while I flipped back and forth to another show I’ll mention later. I think there was some police theme to it, but I’m not sure. I just watched the sex scenes.

One involved a girl who had used tan-in-a-can in attempt to hide the bikini line left by her surprisingly modest bottoms. Hey there down-and-out nice-girl, guess what?

The rest of her skin looked a little dark (but not too much), but I guess she was really pale before tanning because someone felt the need to slather a bunch of fake tan all over her shy, pasty ass. It looked gross, and since she was on top the whole time she was fucking that guy by the pool, you could totally see it. PSA: There are plenty of places to tan your bare ass. You can go to a tanning salon, visit a nude beach, or lay out in your backyard. If you don’t have a backyard, it’s okay! You’re a porn star, so I’m sure you can easily find someone to lend you theirs for awhile.

Also, her boobs were fake (no surprise) and they look like they’d been tied together and shellacked onto her chest with a wooden spoon. They were shaped like a proportionately smaller version of Barbie’s plastic endowments and had about the same amount of movement when she bounced. The area between her breasts seemed slightly raised, but there was very little space between where one stopped and the other started. And the aureolas seemed too big to be on breasts of that size.

So yes, the “big secret” is out! I watch porn! And watching porn is like masturbation: Anyone who says they never do it is lying.

Onto the next leak. I also watched the following show and enjoyed it.

The Big Idea with Donny Deutsch
So the host seems like kind of a tard, but he grows on you. This came on after a show I really like but don’t watch enough of, Mad Money with Jim Cramer. I decided to stay tuned because the guest on Donny’s show was Donald Trump. Why was I so interested? Because I want to be as rich as that asshole, of course.

“The Donald” was asked a number of times to reveal specifics about his family life and his baby son, and he admirably refrained. Later, his daughter accompanied him for a segment and when asked the same question, she said something like, “I love and respect my father a lot, and our family life was really good growing up because he knew to keep it private.” And that put our self-proclaimed “irreverent” host in his place for the rest of the interview.

I think it’s interesting that Trump views his daughter as a brand extension. Some people would argue that it’s cold, insensitive, and impersonal. I think it’s the most wonderful way a father could express love for his daughter. It shows he’s shared something he loves with a person he loves and has groomed her to take care of it in a way that he would. (Note: I do not ask such things of my father. To be a brand extension of my own father would mean changing my product entirely. I don’t think either of us are ready for that kind of challenge.)

I also like what Donald had to say about President Bush as the CEO of the “World’s Largest Company.” In short, he’s not good at what he does. He pretty much summed up my and many other people’s view that we’re wasting a lot of money and lives in Iraq, noting that we’re not even tapping into their valuable resources, which makes it especially stupid. We still have people dislocated from Hurricane Katrina and our education system is failing. Let’s pay attention to our own problems before we assume we can solve everyone else’s. The civil war in Iraq is going to happen regardless of who else gets involved, we’re just spending billions of dollars and thousands of lives to get a front row seat. And according to Donald, the guy who becomes the new leader is going to make Saddam look nice. I don’t know how well thought out that prediction is, but it’s a definite possibility.

Donald continued to discuss that Bush was a poor CEO in that he doesn’t surround himself with the right people. Donald Rumsfeld led us into a disaster and keeps trying to tell us it’s not, and when Condi Rice meets with the heads of nations, nothing happens. I haven’t been keep track, but that sounds about right.

Worst of all, after 9/11 the U.S. was in a position to be loved by the entire world. It was the first time we’d been brought to our knees in recent history. But no, everyone hates us. And I agree that Bush is largely responsible. Although the president is known to be the leader of th
e free world, there are a lot of cooks in that kitchen and if nothing else, the president is a figurehead. He represents our country to other nations. If I were from another country, I would undoubtedly look down on U.S. citizens for managing to elect such an abysmal failure as the benchmark by whom to measure oneself.

The interview also glossed over Donald’s trade a little bit and how he’d learned his business skills from his dad. There wasn’t much meat to that. I suppose one could pick up any number of books if they were interested.

Anyway, I’ll probably never be as rich as “The Donald,” but I’d at least like to learn to be as engaging. There must be a reason I can write almost the entire transcript of the interview from memory.

1. Rode the elevator. When someone from the 14th floor got on, I said, “HAHA! You really live on the 13th floor!” and pretended to cast a spell on her.

2. Saw a toilet by a storefront in Chelsea. It had a sign that read, “No ifs or ands, only butts.” It is the only ashtray I’ve seen that contained human feces.

3. Ran into a bunch of construction workers taking a break on 34th Street. I yelled, “Hey sexy! Gimme some-a dat!” Then I yelled it in Spanish so the other 90 percent of the group could understand.

4. Walked by a restaurant (or something) called “Caviar & Banana.” These probably don’t go together, but I haven’t eaten solid food in awhile so at this point anything sounds good.

5. Entered a book store with a knife and a crazy look in my eyes and asked if they had any books about amputation.

Yesterday, Gus and I ventured into Brooklyn to meet Amy Sedaris, the creator and star of one of our favorite (and unfortunately cancelled) TV shows, Strangers with Candy. She was there to hold a book signing amidst a “Carnival of Cute”, which also involved shopping, live music, and cake decorating. When I told Gus about it, I wasn’t thinking about the other stuff, I was just thinking about how cool it would be to see Amy Sedaris, like she was going to somehow provide us with happiness and entertainment for hours and hours.

Upon entering the tight warehouse space full of bags, books, and jewelry, we quickly found that this event was more about shopping than anything else. Shopping, namely, for Amy’s new masterpiece, I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence. Judging from her behavior, however, I don’t think she likes me much at all.

At first, we walked up empty-handed to the table where she was sitting, and I thumbed through some jewelry. I noticed her… bored, edgy. Given that I’m not very good at talking to famous people (discovered during my brief visit with my favorite singer Bjork in ’96), or pretty much anyone I don’t know, I decided to continue thumbing through jewelry and just bask in her greatness. Sure, I could have approached all drooling-fan style, but I think that would have been more annoying than saying nothing. She didn’t particularly appear to want to talk to people anyway.

Gus decided that we should get a book so we’d have a reason to talk to her. But what the hell are we going to do with a book about entertaining people? We threw wonderful parties at our house back in Austin, but we can’t do anything close to that type of entertaining here. So we made it a gift for a couple we know. By the way, Couple, if one of you is reading this, and you know who Amy Sedaris is, this book is probably for you. Please don’t spoil the surprise by telling your mate. KTHX.

We purchased the book on the other side of the room and the girl who rang us up wrote the couple’s names on a post-it note. We approached Amy’s table again. I said, “Hi,” and she barely looked up. I turned to Gus, who was holding the book. Amy then graced us with a moment’s attention and astutely asked, “Is this you guys?” referring to the post-it note. We said no, so she proceeded to write a darkly funny message on the inside cover (I won’t spoil that surprise), hand us back the book, and abruptly say, “Bye.”

Well, okay then! Don’t get me wrong, I still think she’s hilarious and I love everything I’ve seen her in, but WOW. I figured she’d be a little more talkative or nice or something that didn’t scream “mega-bitch in the schoolyard!” It’s not like she was being inundated with people; there was hardly a line at all when we were there. Maybe she was just sad about that and said, “Fuck it.” I don’t know, it was something to do. And now we have a non-Christmas present to give our non-Christmas-celebrating friends!

I don’t want my blog to turn into one long, boring vacation-style photo album, but a lot of my outings and musings and whatnots have been pretty commonplace. To me, anyway. But some pictures might be interesting to some other folks. Maybe? No? Well, I tried.

I feel like a true New Yorker because yesterday, I saw that it was 53 degrees outside and thought, Oh, it’s NICE out. I should go for a walk. I did, and it was wonderful. Today, the temperature reached maybe a degree above freezing, and even though I couldn’t comfortably take a walk, I still went outside, twice. That’s pretty good for a semi-reclusive nutjob trapped in her own head, huh?

Here’s a picture of another time I went outside. It was taken on my birthday, when we found a splendid little dive on the West Side with cheap drinks and free hot dogs. Notice the terror in Rudy the Pig’s eyes as I attempt to knock him over with just the tip of my index finger.

Since we bothered to move our Christmas lights, we figured we’d put some up. I think the tiny yellow lights make a nice frame for all the… tiny yellow lights…

“Have you ever seen the sun and the moon in the same place at the same time?”
“They’re the same person!”
“I know, right!?”

So, I didn’t actually see the sun when I took this picture of the daytime moon (I love daytime moons), but I swear it was out.

And here’s another sunset… because I’m a sucker for those too.

If you throw someone back into a window, are they just “fenestrated”?

Sorry, I can’t hang out with you on Saturday, I plan on wandering around the city dressed up as Santa Claus. There will be presents and booze, so my involvement is crucial. It’s really important that I do this, so you’ll just have to understand.

The last time such a large number of Santa Clauses were assembled, the Flaming Lips were performing. I wonder if any cheeky girls will show up dressed as martians instead.

More importantly, I wonder where I’m going to find a Santa costume with enough room in the backyard to cover what I’m packin’.

Anyone who’s ever ridden a plane with me knows that my favorite way to relax during my extensive travels is to flip through the latest issue of Sky Mall and joke profusely on the crap within. Now some people have taken the ridiculousness to a whole new level with the hilarious, super-close parody, Sky Maul. The cover alone is hilarious, I imagine the inside won’t disappoint either. Finally, when I’m too tired to make fun of Sky Mall, I can take pleasure in the fact that there’s an even better alternative.

Last night, I went to the Blip Festival waaaay downtown in the middle of nowhere. It was great! I guess this kind of event warrants a post on the Music Blog, even though no one reads it. See you there!