pop culture

Watcha Gonna Do

July 2, 2013

They say nice guys finish last.

Because, for the most part, they do.

Maybe it’s just me…but…

Even Patrick Dempsey’s coif was no match for McSteamy’s…well…steamy.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for McDreamy. But I never wanted him to McGiveItToMe.

Speaking of McAnything…

Remember Dylan McKay? Brandon Walsh had nothing on that surfboard.

Moving from MC to MD

Dr. Christian Troy was hotter than Sacramento in July. His business partner? I don’t remember his name. I don’t even remember his face. Because he was boring.

I think everyone knows how I feel about Chuck Bass. I know I’m not the only one.

Don’t get me started on the Sons of Anarchy. I mean, who needs a shower and a razor? Not me. I just need Jax Teller.

From SAMCRO to SATC

I never truly understood the attraction to Aidan Shaw. I sort of liked him. But, you were kidding yourself if you thought Carrie Bradshaw was going to end up with anyone other than…Mr. Big. He was ALWAYS the obvious choice.

And who wants a werewolf when you can make babies with a bloodsucking vampire? TEAM. EDWARD.

Also…TEAM GALE. I know, I know…by the end of the Hunger Games…you feel like you want to be with Peeta. You owe it to the skinny, cake decorating fool.

Actually, you don’t.

You’re welcome.

Hottest King, ever? Henry the VIII – as portrayed by Jonathan Rhys Meyers. The Tudors was soft porn – any way you slice it. I definitely would have been beheaded for Henry. I don’t even have to think twice – about that.

Who didn’t adore Danny Zuko? Grease is the word…obviously.

And who wouldn’t make questionable choices for Johnny Depp in Cry Baby? Ok. Johnny Depp, period.

Feel free to judge…

I heart Tommy Lee.

I also heart Dave Navarro.

Oh…and…I would have given any/all of my diamonds to Judd Nelson, circa The Breakfast Club.

So Rob Lowe took explicit videos. So what. I got you Rob…Low…Lowe.

As long as we’re confronting comebacks, we should talk about Iron Man.

I also got you…Robert Downey, Jr.

Few men compare.

Admit it…

You loved Jude Law, post nanny. And you loved Bane more than Batman.

You’d take Johnny Knoxville, every day of the week.

And there’s no man you want more than Don Draper. Unless, of course, you love Roger Sterling, my favorite Silver Fox. In which case, I bet they’d be down to share.

Note: This blog was a product of three things: lack of A/C, Global Warming and my life on crutches. I’ve been catching up on so much cable. But you already knew that.

 

 

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The Show Must Go On

July 21, 2012

Feel free to mock me, mercilessly, after you read this.

I may or may not have gone to see Katy Perry’s movie by myself.

And I may or may not have cried a couple times. In the back row. By myself.

I cried because almost all of Katy Perry’s wigs – BANG.

Source: WENN.com

I cried because I was taking Katy Perry’s “film” way too seriously. Not shocking. I’m just starting to feel a little concerned I’ll never outgrow this phase (meaning adolescence).

I cried because I let myself down. I should have been a pop star. I would have been a REALLY good pop star. But I’m like 97 now (as far as Hollywood is concerned). There’s no way a record label is going to give me a reptile and a rhinestone catsuit (not that I couldn’t rock them, I totally could).

I cried when this video rolled right before the credits…

I cried when Katy Perry’s marriage fell apart.

For the first time since the movie started, Katy Perry was stripped of her infectious smile.

Even the virtual Candyland she created wasn’t enough to sugarcoat the situation. The superstar broke down behind the scenes. And, regardless of whether or not YOU love Russell Brand, she did. It was painful (at least for me) to watch their relationship dissolve (even in a heavily promoted documentary about her California Dreams Tour).

Katy and I both cried – right before she was expected to perform – for Brazil.

I cried partly because I felt like a jaded old broad. While the ten-year-olds in the theater were wishing they had seen more of Kitty Purry (Katy Perry’s cat), I was thinking…even private planes and an endless supply of glitter and ice cream cone costumes…couldn’t save a relationship. I was thinking fairy tales are fraudulent. I was thinking Cinderella is a @#$%ing farce. Relationships take more than glass slippers, fairy godmothers, love AND lust. If you want them to survive, they demand and deserve hard work. And sometimes, they STILL don’t pull through. Needless to say, I wished (and sort of still wish) I were one of those bright-eyed little girls who only cared about the goddamn cat.

I cried the hardest when Katy Perry didn’t let irreconcilable differences kick her sparkly a$$. She made the striped candy on her bodice spin, she grabbed her bedazzled microphone, she dried her eyes and she slapped a pretty believable smile on her gorgeous face. Then, she put on a show for the largest country in South America.

At that moment, I felt so ashamed of all the times I opted not to perform (and I’m performing for a much smaller audience, if not only for myself). Watching Katy Perry literally rise to the occasion made me regret all the instances I consciously chose weakness over strength. Because I know I always have a choice. And I’ve always known I was strong. But there have been so many times, recently, I have simply chosen not to be. And there’s really no (good) excuse.

Photo from Doug Beghtel/The Oregonian

I pulled it together before I left the theater (it wasn’t easy for ridiculous me). And since that day, I have been reminded – so many times – just how much more fun life is – when your whip cream guns are fully loaded. I NEVER want to set mine down again.

The last 48 hours in Phoenix, Arizona have been no exception. Thank you Andy, Kelly, Greg, Jill, Joey, Charissa, Amy (especially you duck butter), Rebecca, Seth, Brianna and the love of my life – Johnny B – for all the laughs. Now suit up. It’s REALLY hot outside. And I’m ready to fire away. I’m more than a little embarrassed to say, it has been far too long since I’ve laughed this hard. The only thing I’m not laughing about is the ninth degree sunburn on the tip of my nose. You were all right about the sunblock. I should wear a hat today. Or maybe I’ll just hang with the Beach Patrol…

 

 

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Choke

May 30, 2012

I am without my own words today.

But I still have blunt bangs.

They never leave me.

Because I have nothing else (of my own) to say, I’m going to have Rachel Berry belt out a Kelly Clarkson tune for you.

Obviously, it is no coincidence the aforementioned women are both currently brunettes with bangs.

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