The World According to . . . Me

2007-01-25T15:28:00.000-05:00

Fitness Etiquette: Yes, There is Such a Thing

You may recall a previous blog entry about cell phone etiquette. If not, please refresh your memory, as a similar rant is about to take place.

Nothing is more satisfying than a fantastically sweaty workout at the gym. (Well, a slice of pizza or a jumbo chocolate chunk cookie from Dunkin Donuts could rival that.) After running three miles and doing 500 stomach crunches, you feel like a new person, perhaps a pound or two lighter.

In fact, the hardest thing about the gym is getting there.

But nothing can ruin a good workout more than a lousy sports club experience. People, in general, are rude. This isn’t an epiphany; it’s simply fact. People only care about themselves, and it would behoove anyone to exercise (pun intended) some manners. In fact, recent events have inspired me to compile a list of the top five things (in no particular order) that aggravate me most when going to the gym.

Cell Phone Use – I don’t know about your gym, but at mine there are signs posted on the walls that explicitly prohibit cell phone use, specifically on the cardio equipment. But of course there are always those special individuals who choose to ignore these signs and proceed to chat away on their Motorola Razrs on the treadmill next to me. No matter how loud I turn up the volume on my iPod, I can still hear your conversation. It’s distracting when I’m struggling to complete a 3-mile run. I shouldn’t have to deafen myself with my music in the process. I’m fully aware that few individuals can do without talking for more than four or five minutes. But if you’re feeling this unrelenting need to exercise your vocal cords rather than your legs, step off of the treadmill and go outside. You’re bothering me.
Equipment Hogs – I’ll be the first to admit that I hog the treadmill. I’m usually on the thing for a good 60 minutes, plus a 5-minute cool down. But there are about twenty treadmills; there aren’t twenty bicep curl machines. Usually if one of my preferred machines is in use, I’ll go use another one and return later But I get extremely irritated when I have one more machine left before going home and three meatheads are hogging it for 30 minutes. I spend about three to five minutes on any given weight machine. God forbid they let me cut in. There is also the case of the gym sloth—the guy who sits on the bench for a good 10 minutes before attempting a rep. The clock is ticking a lot faster than you are, buddy.
Water Fountain Hoverers – Like many people, I choose to bring a bottle of Poland Springs to the gym. And usually after I finish it, I’m still dehydrated after a good run and I need to fill it up. Hardly unusual, no? Apparently the meatheads who prefer tap water are a teensy bit impatient They think that my water bottle will miraculously fill up more quickly if they give me only a foot of breathing room. How about backing it up a few more feet before I dump my water on your fat head. If I must wait a half an hour before you’re done hogging the chest press, you can afford to wait a few extra seconds before I’m done getting my water.
Locker Room Peep Show – While I’m not a prude, I can honestly do without seeing bare breasts, butts, or any other body parts—no matter how hot one’s body is. Some people have few qualms about strutting around in the nude as if the locker room was their private bedroom. I’m not interested in your hippy views of the beautiful nude body and how we should be proud and all that crap. If you were that proud of your body, you wouldn’t be at the gym. Cover up thy naughty bits with a towel, for goodness sake. I’m not interested in a free peep show.
Uncleanliness – It’s only common courtesy to wipe down a machine after sweating on it for 30 minutes. Yet most people could care less about their germs mingling with that of other people’s. Grossness. Maybe it’s a bit OCD of me, but I make sure to wipe down every machine before and after use. It’s too often that I see some guy perspiring profusely all over the elliptical for about 45 minutes and then walking away without spraying the machine with some cleaning fluid. Then I cringe when I see some cute teenage girl get on said elliptical—covered in dried-up sweat—about five minutes later. I feel so icky just observing. Yuck. Wipe down the machines, people. It takes not even a minute. You can certainly afford the time.

2006-09-06T12:45:00.000-04:00

Famewhore-itis: The Epidemic

We’ve all heard of the Hollywood phrase “A-List.” Celebrities belong on the A-List if they’re guaranteed moneymaking stars. Think Tom Hanks, Justin Timberlake, and Madonna. Lest you think this has anything to do with talent, think again. You’ll find Britney Spears and Paris Hilton on this list as well.

Then there are the B-List stars who are famous, but not quite household names. You might find more talent on this list, but nonetheless, you got your Nicole Richies and Mischa Bartons. This list often features the Hollywood “It” Girl—often a fleeting title—á la Lindsay Lohan. These individuals are typically “stars of the moment” who may or may not make it to the A List.

Comedian Kathy Griffith popularized a new list for has-beens with her show, Life on the D-List. This list often includes the likes of Beverly Hills, 90210 and Saved by the Bell alums (e.g., Tori Spelling and Mario Lopez) or anyone who has or will be appearing on ABC’s hit dance show, Dancing With the Stars. (Notice the irony in the show's title.)

I can go even further by naming people to the F-List, which includes former celebrities who still consider themselves celebrities despite not having done anything significant since the ‘80s or ‘90s. In fact, most of these washed-up stars have appeared on VH1’s The Surreal Life. Vanilla Ice anybody?

But it’s not the has-been celebrities that I’m concerned with here. MC Hammer was cool back in the day. Hello, shiny parachute pants? He made a crapload of money from his hip-hop career and pissed it all away until he was bankrupt. He was foolish, but God bless him, he was huge (fame-wise).

It’s the wannabes that are becoming a problem. Throughout Hollywood, a new virus is spreading faster than Paris Hilton’s legs, and it’s not Syphilis. It’s what I like to call “famewhore-itis.” You’re a famewhore if you have no talent, yet you use celebrities, typically A- and B-List, to get your name and face in the tabloids. (Or you appeared on MTV’s Laguna Beach and clearly have nothing else going for you in life aside from boozing it up at high-profile Hollywood clubs.)

The biggest carriers of said disease? Britney’s white trash counterpart, Kevin Federline, and Nick Lachey’s bed-mate of the moment, Vanessa Minnillo of Entertainment Tonight and MTV’s TRL. You may have noticed I’m not exactly a fan of Ms. Minnillo-ho, as evidenced in a previous blog entry. I’m still not a fan.

These people love the attention. While Britney cries to Matt Lauer about being pursued by the paparazzi, K-Fed poses for the paps in his ghetto-fabulous wifebeaters, sideways caps, and denim manpris while toking on a cigarette. While Lachey prefers to remain coy about his personal life, Miss Minnillo-ho desperately makes plays for his affection in public (e.g., chin-stroking, lap dances, etc.)

But who are K-Fed and Minnillo? Since when are they celebrities? Have I been wrong all these years for believing celebrities are individuals who possess talent and are nationally and/or internationally recognized for it? Why are a former backup dancer and a former Miss Teen USA winner all over the tabloids? (And why is MTV hiring former beauty pageant queens and Laguna Beach has-beens as VJ’s? That’s an entirely different blog entry for another day.)

Simply because they’re famous by association. Society has extended the term “celebrity” to encompass friends, family members, and significant others. If you’re publicly seen canoodling with Jessica Simpson, we want to know who you are. Even if you’re a nobody. Because once you’re identified, you instantly become a somebody.

While I was in college, I was fortunate enough to meet and interview Theo and Danny from MTV’s Real World (Chicago and New Orleans seasons, respectively). I asked them how they feel when people treat them as celebrities.

“It just says a lot about the way the term ‘celebrity’ is being viewed in America now,” Danny said. “It's totally changed in the past few years. It's gone from being something that's used to describe people with talent. Celebrity has gotten really cheapened now. It's just about being seen—ultimately about being seen and known. It means nothing and it's cheapened what celebrity is.”

Theo echoed similar sentiments.

“I'm sure some [celebrities] who might take it as a slap in the face would say, ‘You mean this kid can just do this show and he's now automatically a celebrity? I've worked my butt off for these many years and they're calling him a celebrity and me a celebrity?’” he said. “I don't consider myself one. I never will, unless something really big happens. Until then, I'm just a kid who did a show. You people watched it. That's it.” (Source: Binghamton University’s Pipe Dream)

If only Miss Minnillo would heed those thoughts. Instead, she is loving the limelight. When she's not interviewing the real stars for MTV or ET, she's attending movie premieres and Hollywood parties and enjoying all the celebrity perks (e.g., free gifts, designer clothing, VIP access, etc.). She didn’t get the notoriety or the public affection from New York Yankee shortstop Derek Jeter, so she’s using Nick Lachey to work her way up the list. She doesn’t pout, but rather poses for the paparazzi. Jessica made Nick famous. Now Nick is making Vanessa famous. What’s there not to be happy about?

What’s worse is when wannabe celebrities attempt to parlay their celeb relationships into actual careers. Take Federline, for instance. His wife, Britney Spears, is one of the biggest pop stars in the world. What better way to launch a rap career since everyone knows who you are by association? But who’s going to take this man seriously as a rapper? He’s Mr. Britney Spears. He looks like Vanilla Ice. Oh yeah, and he’s awful, too.

It’s utter madness, people. We, as citizens and media consumers, need to take action. If you see them on the street, tell them to get a real job! No more reality TV programs! No more tabloids! Stop giving these famewhores the attention they crave!

2006-08-31T16:07:00.000-04:00

Photo of the Moment

Now I'm not one to poke fun at the overweight folks out there.

But being overweight is no excuse to not dress yourself properly and cover yo'self up! Aretha, honey, you should know better. You're the Queen of effin' Soul! But your breasts seem to have eaten your soul!

At this moment, Stevie Wonder is thankful for being blind.

(Source: Young, Black, and Fabulous)

2006-07-14T11:34:00.000-04:00

Stupid Headlines of the Week

I'm not sure which headline is more shocking (or stupid).

Paris is on a Sex Ban (The Sun)

Everyone's favorite hotel heiress-turned sex video star-turned newfound pop "singer" has placed herself on a one-year sex ban. Apparently she feels the need to "rediscover" herself while the rest of us wishes she'd discover that she needs to take a swan dive off the balcony of the nearest Hilton hotel. Paris. Pavement. Paris falls. Paris lands on pavement. Paris a pancake. Yum.

The "stars are blind," but the ears wish they were deaf.
Man who resembles Jordan sues MJ, Nike for $832M (Kgw.com)

Is this man serious? I thought I've seen it all.

This bus driver from Portland, Ore. is suing the greatest basketball player of all time. Not for negligence. Not for physical harm or trauma. Not for copyright infringement.

This genius is suing Michael Jordan because people mistake him for the basketball star. He's "accused" of looking like Jordan and it makes him "uncomfortable." According to the story, the gentleman is suing Jordan for "defamation and permanent injury and emotional pain and suffering." Yeah, I bet he's suffering. How does being mistaken for a celebrity translate to a lawsuit worth over $800 million? Dude, are you crazy or just a gold digger?

The judge is going to have a good laugh with this one.

2006-07-07T15:59:00.000-04:00

~~Chewing~~ Fighting the Fat

You don’t realize how fat your country is until you actually leave the country.

About a month ago I vacationed in Europe for a couple of weeks. As soon as I arrived in Milan, Italy two things struck me—the language barrier (naturally) and the absence of fat folks.

But Italy is the birthplace of pasta—everything carbohydrates. How on earth are there NO FAT PEOPLE?

I’ll tell you why. Europeans, including Italians, don’t do nearly as much eating as Americans. In the U.S. we live for giant portions at behemoth restaurants like the Cheesecake Factory. You'll be served a cheeseburger the size of your head, enough French fries to feed an African tribe, and unlimited refills of soda. Then there are about thirty kinds of cheesecake (cookie dough, Oreo, Godiva chocolate—I’m salivating). But that’s not enough because you’ll make a trip to Coldstone Creamery for a waffle bowl of Birthday Cake Remix—cake batter ice cream with fudge brownie, sprinkles, and chocolate syrup.

But then in Italy, you go to a restaurant and you’re served a plate of food that’s simply satisfying. You get the complimentary basket of bread. You drink a glass of wine or mineral water. And your entrée is a normal portion of chicken and spaghetti—not an amount that would feed a Sumo wrestler. You’ll probably have enough room in your stomach to share a dessert with your dining companion. In the end, you’re not so full that you can’t get out of your chair.

Europeans also walk more than they drive. The Italians walk. The French walk. The Swiss walk. I don’t think I saw any gyms or exercise facilities because they’re unnecessary—everyone walks! But if you take a stroll through Manhattan, there’s a New York Sports Club or Crunch gym on every corner. As obsessed and health-conscious we Americans are, we’re still so damn fat.

We’re a nation on the go. We prefer drive-thrus to dining inside of restaurants. We rather microwave a cheap TV dinner in two minutes than spend some time cooking a gourmet meal from scratch. We can’t be bothered. We want quick fixes. We have no time (or money) to waste.

Unsurprisingly, our country is the origin of fast food—McDonalds, Burger King, Pizza Hut, KFC, etc. It’s quick, inexpensive, and convenient. And of course we try to spread these ideals (and obesity) throughout the world. “Hey Europeans! Hey Japanese! Fatten up your people! It’s a moneymaker!” While I saw plenty of McDonalds restaurants in Paris and London, the individuals entering and exiting these stores with large bags of deliciously fattening food were still only the size of my thigh.

The American way of eating has ironically become a dangerous culture. While we’re more health-conscious than ever, we have trouble altering our way of life. If you go to any grocery store and inspect any box or can of food, you’ll notice its nutrition information and long list of ingredients. (Who cares how much fructose syrup is in my Kellogg’s Pop Tarts?) We're obsessed with knowing what we're putting into our bodies, yet we're not ingesting any less of it.

The United States is fat. Everyone knows it. Even Americans know it. But what are we doing to actually “fix” the problem?

Since no one really has any good ideas, everyone is just scrambling for temporary solutions to this serious ongoing problem. New diet fads (e.g., Atkins, South Beach, etc.). Low-fat (or low-sodium, low-calorie) alternatives. Banning the sale of junk food and sodas in public schools. Prohibiting the construction of fast food restaurants near public schools.

But what are we really accomplishing here? Is hiding the “bad” food going to make us eat less of it? Is providing low-fat/sodium/calorie alternatives going to make us skinny even if we’re consuming just as much food as we were before? If there’s any positive result, we’ll gain weight at a slower rate. “Instead of being 300 pounds when I’m 25, I’ll be 300 pounds when I’m 28. Yay!”

No matter where you travel, whether it’s Farmersville, USA or the French Riviera, the “bad” food is out there. The only difference is where we set our limits (i.e., portion control). There’s no harm in trying different foods. After all, what fun is it to eat sugar-free ice cream and cheese-less pizza?

As much as we hate the French, we could learn a thing or two from them. We need to learn to enjoy our food more and eat more slowly. We shouldn’t gorge ourselves at places like the Cheesecake Factory. The goal of eating isn’t to consume ‘til the oxygen can’t circulate throughout the body. Being satisfied doesn’t have to mean being full.

The first thing morbidly obese people do when they decide to lose the weight is they eat substantially less. Once enough pounds disappear from the body and they can move around more easily, they learn to exercise.

But while fitness is wonderful and everyone should be physically active, committing oneself to bland diets and going to the gym six days a week isn’t ideal. The Europeans don’t need to do that and neither do Americans.

We just need to eat less and not gorge. Eat two Oreos instead of half the package. Have one slice of pizza and a side salad instead of four sausage slices with extra cheese. If you cut down on the portions, you’ll allow yourself room to try new foods without worrying about the calories or weight gain.

And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with a Burger King meal once in a while. It ain’t gonna make your heart explode. Just don’t make it a habit.

It saddens me to see overweight kids with their overweight parents. It pains me to see them eating their Big Macs and "supersizing" their fries and soft drinks. I see where the bad habits begin and where they’ll continue.

But we can’t hide unhealthy food and we shouldn’t avoid it either. Banning junk food in high school cafeterias isn’t going to fix the problem. By making desperate attempts to curb poor eating habits, we’re not identifying the true source of the problem—ourselves.

The only real way to reduce rates of obesity is to slow down and enjoy food. Stay fit, but don’t hibernate at the gym. Eat less, but eat well.

Together we can fight the fat!

2006-06-16T18:49:00.000-04:00

Home With Britney: The White Trash Years

Raise your hand if you feel bad for Britney Spears.

No hands? Aw, what a shame.

I weep for Mrs. Federline. It’s sad when millions of dollars don’t seem to buy you enough security and high enough fences. It’s scary to be chased through high-end shopping malls by those terrifying paparazzi carrying those oh-so-very lethal instruments we call cameras. It especially sucks when every time you’re photographed, you’re caught mishandling your 9-month old baby boy.

So maybe I don’t really pity Ms. Spears after watching The Today Show’s Matt Lauer make her cry on Dateline last night. It’s hard to feel bad for a person who has all the success and money in the world and lives in a gorgeous Malibu mansion with more bodyguards than the U.S. President.

As a celebrity, you can’t just decide one day that you want to take a break from pop stardom to get married and have a family and just assume that the paparazzi will leave you alone. As long as you’re a celebrity, you’ll be photographed. Britney wants her cake and she wants to eat it, too—just look at her. Does she need any more?

The unfortunate (and I say that word loosely) side of being a celebrity is that you’re often photographed doing normal, humdrum, every day kinds of things—eating, food shopping, walking down the street, grabbing some Starbucks coffee, etc. These are the same kinds of things that ordinary people like you and me take for granted. Believe me, I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about being photographed buying a grande non-fat vanilla latte (unless Derek Jeter decides to give me a call).

The “unfortunate” part of this is that celebrities get caught on camera doing stupid things—e.g., picking a wedgie, making a stupid face, and (now infamously) driving with one’s baby in her lap. I’m sure that plenty of moms make mistakes with their children. There will always be accidents. Children fall and hurt themselves all the time. But if you’re Britney Spears and it’s reported that your son fell from his highchair, the entire world assumes you’re a lousy mother.

But then you’re videotaped as you hold a glass in one hand and your son in the other and—BAM—you trip on a New York City sidewalk, almost dropping the poor child. And how about that time you were driving along the highway in your convertible and your son was sleeping in the backseat in a front-facing car seat, his head drooping to the side as the sun beamed down on his pale little face. Now you’re a terrible mother.

I’m not going to harp on whether she’s a good mom. I’m sure she loves her son and I’m sure she’ll love her second child just as much. I don’t really have the right to comment on that as I don’t really know what kind of mother she is, save for a few photos that give me some inkling.

But as for her marriage to Kevin Federline, that’s wholly open to public scrutiny. I don’t buy that her marriage is “awesome.” Maybe it’s too easy to call K-Fed a freeloading wannabe Vanilla Ice. But isn’t that what it looks like? After all, his wife is the breadwinner who has earned millions as a world famous pop star and he’s a backup dancer who’s using his newfound celebrity status to be a rap star. Just where would he get his money from? Dancing sure don’t pay the bills, home slice.

I just can’t weep with you, Britney. You’re 24 years old—most would consider you an adult by now. You’re a wife. You’re a mom. You’re responsible for the decisions you make. Own up to your mistakes. Stop blaming the paparazzi for your problems.

“But I wouldn’t be in danger if I didn’t have like this impactful thing around me all the time,” says Ms. Spears in her interview with Lauer. “I just feel like the editors, they don’t realize that there’s not just one magazine—there’s other magazines and they’re all paying to get a story. And I think that's where the energy from the people is coming from. It’s kind of scary. I can’t really leave my home right now.”

Of course the editors realize there are other magazines. It’s called “competition.” They’re all competing for the best pictures and the best stories—that’s what sells magazines. Us Weekly versus In Touch Magazine versus Star Magazine—it’s tabloid war.

The tabloids certainly feasted upon Britney’s 55-hour marriage to hometown friend, Jason Alexander.

“I was on the road for awhile and again I was doing a lot of what I was told instead of what I wanted to really do,” she tells Lauer. “And I didn’t know how to break out of that. So in my young mind I’m like, ‘I’m gonna just get married to someone of my home friends.’ You know what I mean. It was just like something. But I have no regrets with anything I’ve ever done.”

I know the feeling—sick of people telling me what to do. But you know what would get them crazy? I’ll just up and get married. There! That’ll put ‘em over the edge. That’ll show them who’s really the boss of me now!

Was she kidding with that “young mind” talk? Wasn’t this like two years ago? She can’t be more of adult now than she was then. Again she scapegoats. It’s the “it’s everyone else’s fault, they made me do it” mentality. And yet, she doesn’t regret it. Tell me why it’s OK for a pop star to get married for fun and have it annulled the next day, but the U.S. government is trying to prohibit gays from marrying the ones they truly love. That’s a whole ‘nother blog posting.

And of course the whole driving-with-baby-in-lap incident.

“I went to Starbucks and I see a bunch of photographers and I’m scared and I want to get out of the situation and my baby’s crying,” Spears laments. “They’re coming up on the sides of the car, which is a scary situation for me. And they’re banging on the windows and that’s not something I want my baby to. . .you know. . .so I get my baby [in] the car and I go home. I mean, I just feel like that they’re taking cheap shots.”

Again it’s the paparazzi’s fault, not hers. Is it that hard for you to just admit you did something stupid? You put your son’s life in danger. No parent in his/her right mind would drive with a baby in his/her lap. We’re not taking cheap shots. I’d be just as mortified if I saw any ordinary non-celebrity doing the same thing.

Her explanation is a load of bullshit. Not long after the incident, I read that one witness—a photographer, I believe—claimed that the situation was quite calm and that no one was harassing Britney. Perhaps she sensed something was about to happen and she panicked. But there is no excuse. Unless someone is holding a gun to your head, you’ll always have enough time to strap your child into a car seat.

But then Britney goes on to say, “That driving incident, I did it with my dad. I’d sit on his lap and I drive. We’re country.”

Wow, you really give “country” folk a bad reputation. I’m really sure you thought Sean Preston would have a great time getting an early driving lesson at 6 months of age. “Look, Ma! I can’t talk, but I can drive! Wee!”

So it should come as no surprise that—once again—Spears blames, not herself, but NYC for its “cobblestone” sidewalk (and of course the paparazzi) for her nearly dropping baby Sean Preston.

“Actually, I didn’t trip on anything.”

Sure you didn’t.

“It was a New York street, and just cobblestones.”

Since when does NYC have cobblestone streets?

“And I was walking and I don’t think we were prepared with one security, ‘cause I’ve never had that much paparazzi ever on me in New York. So we didn’t even know there was gonna be that many people.”

Those poor paparazzi just can’t catch a break, can they?

“So I think it was a mixture of so many paparazzi and how the road was all messed up, me just trying to get in the car.”

Or you’re just stupid. After all, you were holding a glass in one hand and your baby in the other and you then tripped on your designer jeans in your designer heels.

“Accidents happen.”

Of course they do. You seem to be good at making them happen. And on camera, no less.

Here’s an idea. Buy yourself an island—as Johnny Depp did—and sequester you and your baby until you’re ready again to unleash your career (along with an image reboot) upon the world.

Oh yeah, and leave Kevin at home and get back together with Justin. You were cute then.

(Source: MSNBC.com)

2006-05-19T10:16:00.000-04:00

American Idol Showdown: It's On Bitches!
Will Hicks put out McPhee-ver?

I suck.

I predicted Chris Daughtry would be crowned American Idol of Season 5 yet he only made it as far as the final four. I’m smacking my head as we speak.

But a wrench may have been thrown in, thus ruining my prophecy!

Insiders claim Daughtry didn’t really have the lowest number of votes and that the real reason for his premature exit was because of a lucrative offer, presumably from the band Fuel, who is searching for a new lead singer. This reeks of Mario Vasquez.* But unlike Vasquez, I expect big things from Daughtry.

Apparently American Idol owns its contestants until either the show ends, they’re eliminated, or for an entire year. As a contestant on the show, you’re contractually obligated to be the producers’ bitch. You attend various signings, make appearances at events, film cheesy Ford commercials, and—oh yeah—that American Idol summer tour thing. On the flip side, you’re prohibited from accepting album deals from record companies or any other offers that have zero relation to the show. If you accept an offer, you simply get the boot, which may have happened to Daughtry.

However, I’m not so sure of this. I believe American Idol is rigged to a point, but the viewers do vote and they know who they like. The votes are so close that it’s sometimes hardly shocking when a supposed favorite must pack his/her bags early.

But today I am feeling extra sad because my second favorite, Elliot Yamin, has been eliminated from the competition as well. This young man has a brilliant singing voice and it’s a shame to see him go. However, he lasted way longer than I had expected. Weeks ago I predicted Kellie Pickler might squeeze her orange-ness and fake hair into the final four. But either viewers rid themselves of Pickler-itis (AKA stupidity) or the girl sabotaged herself. For the first time in five seasons of American Idol, we got to enjoy a solid final five—Daughtry, Yamin, Taylor Hicks, Katherine McPhee, and Paris Bennett. I was thrilled. I decided that no matter who won, the show was a success.

Now we are left with Hicks and McPhee—two contestants for whom I predicted magnificent things. But it’s become increasingly clear that Hicks may take the crown. And rightly so.

Hicks is a born entertainer. He loves the stage. He loves the people. He eat, sleeps, and breathes music. He has anointed himself the president of the “Soul Patrol,” a musical movement of sorts. There’s no air of arrogance about this guy. When Hicks performs, you feel like you’re a part of an experience. He dances like he has Turrets and he sings with the kind of raw energy you wish you had every morning after eating a bowl of Wheaties. American Idol is not a competition to him. It’s entertainment, and he genuinely loves it.

Now before I rant on Miss McPhee, let me preface my point by affirming that I most definitely would purchase a Katherine McPhee album. She has a fantastic voice. She deserves a record deal. Her mom is a vocal coach. Blah blah blah. However, here lies the rub: McPhee is inconsistent. She sings the up-tempo numbers with glee and proficiency, but when it’s ballad time, she overreaches. Instead of just singing the damn song, she tries to impress us with her vocal prowess—the runs, the ooohs, her fondness for moving up and down musical scales. While it may be impressive to some, it’s oftentimes a mess. There is a reason for lyrics to a song. At times I like to hear those lyrics. Messy, overly ambitious singing often distracts from a great song.

And while American Idol is a singing competition, people do unfortunately vote on personality. McPhee has been a snarky brat as of late. “You guys have been hard on me the past couple of weeks”—this being her response to the judges’ criticisms. Well, Randy, Paula, and Simon are judges, therefore they must judge you. If you suck, they’re going to tell you that you suck (well, maybe not Paula). Just because you were taught by Mommy the Professional Singer doesn’t mean you’re immune to criticism. You ain’t perfect, sweet cheeks. And lose the phony smiles. We all know that deep down inside you’re a diva and that you think you’re too good for the show.

Americans like to be entertained and prefer humility. Therefore, Taylor Hicks will be our next American Idol.

*Mario Vasquez was a contestant and early favorite on last year’s season of American Idol, but he quit the competition without explanation after making it to the final 12. Rumors swirled that Diddy offered him a deal with Bad Boy Records, but no one has heard from Vasquez since. Sounds like a bad career move!

2006-05-02T09:08:00.000-04:00

Hollywood: Where Romance Goes to Die

Well, the Evil Bitch of the Week Award goes to Denise Richards, who’s now shacking up with ex-best friend Heather Locklear’s soon-to-be ex-husband, Richie Sambora. Rumor has it that the whore advised Locklear to dump her cheating hubby when—low and behold—the cheating hubby was cheating with Richards all along! (Just tell me, how does one cheat on Heather Locklear? Then again, how could David Spade nab Heather Locklear? ::confused::)

What makes this all the more intriguing of a Hollywood scandal is that this has all come to public knowledge within days of Richards’ damaging allegations towards her own soon-to-be ex-husband, Charlie Sheen. She claims Sheen has been physically and verbally abusive, has threatened to kill her, and has a penchant for gay and kiddie porn. And of course, he’s cheated on her many a time with many a prostitute.

Team Richards or Team Sheen—t-shirts anyone? Not appropriate? OK!
(Sources: People Magazine, Us Weekly Magazine)

_____________________________________________________________

Speaking of teams, I’m guessing Team Lachey has been steadily increasing its membership as of late. Nick Lachey recently poured his heart out to MTV and Rolling Stone Magazine about his divorce from Jessica Simpson. Read the RS article here—it’s truly heart-wrenching. If you’re more into watching real tears, check out the MTV special, which is basically a video diary in which Lachey talks about his new album, “What’s Left of Me,” and how his divorce inspired his songwriting. I shed a few tears.

I appreciate it when celebrities take the time to open up to the public about their personal lives a bit. Nick and Jessica invited viewers into their home with Newlyweds, so it would be a slap in the face to fans to kick them out. Jessica gave us the boot months ago when marriage troubles were a-brewing. She refused to do an interview and photo spread for Vanity Fair as the magazine stipulated that she discuss the divorce. Maybe there are no cameras this time around, but you still owe it to your fans to let them in one last time before you shut the door for good.

I’d bet money that Jessica slept with that Maroon Five punk Adam Levine. Cheating sleaze! And, ew, Johnny Knoxville? Bam Margera? Is the lip collagen seeping into your brain now, too? Who's next, Steve-O? Ugh. Nick, someone should introduce you to Heather Locklear (or me). I promise, it's not you!

2006-04-13T12:42:00.000-04:00

American Idol or American Idiot?

I was going to wait until the halfway point, but after the last two weeks of disappointment, I can no longer hide my internal anguish over American Idol.

I’m pained. I’m truly pained. This season had so much promise. We finally had a group of contestants in which more than half deserved to be there. In the past, we were stuck with eight or nine that were OK and three or four who were absolutely phenomenal. But this season we have stormed past mediocrity and we have reached the threshold of “almost great.”

Then Mandisa was eliminated. And Katherine McPhee was in the bottom two one week. And Elliot Yamin, perhaps the best male vocalist in American Idol history, has been stuck in the bottom three the last two weeks. Meanwhile the doe-eyed Ace Young is still in it and it took five weeks to eliminate the heinous Bucky Covington.

You’re always going to have a bunch of mediocre singers that get by on other factors—e.g., looks, personality, overzealous red neck fan base, etc. I feared Kevin Covais "Chicken Little-itis" would take hold over America. But after he was eliminated the second week, I drew a quick sigh of relief.

And then I remembered the Pickler. Kellie Pickler. Is she really just another dumb southern blond or has she pulled the calamari over our eyes?

I get that American Idol is a reality show. I understand that casting interestng people makes for a more interesting show. But is it too much to ask for twelve contestants that can really sing? Give me talent. Give me greatness. Give me fantastic vocal skills. The show perpetuates the idea that to be successful, you must be somewhat talented but more importantly, cute and dumb. 35 million people watch American Idol. If any show could take a stand against image, American Idol certainly could.

The proof is in the calamari (okay, enough calamari jokes). America chose Kelly Clarkson, Ruben Studdard, and Fantasia Burrino, and even gave Clay Aiken a gay “Claymate” fan base. Now I’m not saying any of these individuals are ugly (because they are not), but they don’t exactly fit the ideal image—whatever the hell that is. While America has--for the most part--chosen the most talented contestants in their respective seasons, I fear the fate of Season 5. Look at Mandisa, and, soon, Elliot. Do we put too much stock in appearance or can’t vocal talent be enough?

Seven contestants remain: Chris Daughtry, Katherine McPhee, Taylor Hicks, Elliot Yamin, Ace Young, Kellie Pickler, and Paris Bennett. Eliminate Pickler and Young, and then we’ll have a serious competition. But I’m sure the votes will speak differently in the coming weeks.

As you may know from my previous post about American Idol, I am a card-carrying member of both Team Chris and Team Elliot. And I still predict that Chris will be Season 5’s American Idol. Here are the rest of my predictions:

Within the next three shows, Ace, Elliot, and Paris will be eliminated, but in no particular order.
The final four will consist of Chris, Katherine, Taylor, and Kellie.
The final two will be Chris and Katherine (or Taylor).
Chris will be crowned American Idol.

Now let me clarify that I do not agree with most of my predictions. If I could have it my way, Kellie would be next in line to hear Daniel Powter’s “Bad Day” as her Idol clip package plays on the big screen. (Hell, I would've eliminated her in the previous round.) Ace would follow and then Paris. If the final four consisted of Chris, Elliot, Taylor, and Katherine, I probably would not care about the outcome. I would be content knowing that the four most talented contestants made it this far, and rightly so.

Do not disappoint me, America! Mobilize yourselves and vote for the best! (That means vote for Chris, Elliot, Katherine, or Taylor! Down with the Pickler!)

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

Photo of the Day

There's something not quite right here.

I'm no maternity/fertility expert nor am I a licensed obstetrician, but if Katherine Holmes were to really be pregnant (and I mean really--because we have all questioned this at least once or a hundred times), should she look that way? Either the baby (or "baby") is about to hatch from an egg inside Ms. Holmes' womb or she's about to give birth to a basketball. Her belly is a sphere! I just want to bounce her on a hard-wood floor and toss her through a hoop!

If that alien baby is born, we might need a Mission Impossible IV: The Conception of Tom Cruise, Jr.

What kind of sperm you be packin', Tom?

(Photo Source: Perezhilton.com)

2006-03-20T15:55:00.000-05:00

Top Ten People Who Must Disappear From the Galaxy

I’m a celebrity gossip whore. There, I confess. I read the blogs. I hear the sleaze reports. I glance at the tabloids.

Perhaps it makes me feel better about myself. In fact, it does. What better way to get a good laugh when you see über-rich pop star Britney Spears walking fat (or pregnant) and barefoot into a Port-o-John?

But as much as I love the gossip, there are certain individuals that just need to swan dive off the nearest cliff. I often wonder, why are the media so fascinated with stupid people? Why must I, as a celebrity gossip reader, be oversaturated with news about individuals who contribute nothing to the world at large?

Thus, here’s a list of stupid people I have no use for anymore. Just go away. Your time is up. Get a job.

10) Tara Reid
Gossip has been a bit quiet about Hollywood’s (least) favorite lush. Not sure if she’s trying out a new (read: sober) lifestyle or she’s found the Buddha. Either way, I doubt it’ll last long. Tara was cute when she starred in American Pie. She had the “I’m Little Miss Virgin” role down almost as good as Jessica Simpson (pre-Nick Lachey nuptials). She even seemed somewhat likable when she was dating MTV’s former TRL VJ Carson Daly (remember him?). But one (or more) sketchy boob job and one awful tummy tuck later, Ms. Reid has left nearly zero bars untouched and zero streets uncrawled. She was even the lead boozer on E!’s Taradise, as cameramen followed her around the world as she got smashed in every country. You know, after awhile it does grow somewhat tiresome to watch a bleach-blond airhead with orange skin and boob scars stumble in and out of bars. There’s only so much torture one can withstand.

9) Tom Cruise
Look, I don’t care if Tom Cruise is gay, straight, transgender, a monkey, or whatever. I’ve heard all of the rumors. Is the TomKat baby a phantom? We’ll know within the next few weeks. Is Scientology a satanic cult? Who cares. Whatever it is, it needs to go away—“it” referring to Cruise’s suspicious hunger for publicity. He can’t be hurting for cash; he’s one of the world’s biggest movie stars. But one of the world’s biggest movie stars has one of the world’s biggest egos. You’d think that after the mega-success of Brokeback Mountain, Cruise would just come out of the closet. But instead, he’s jumping on couches and smiling that big phony smile of his as Katie Holmes carries his phantom child despite reports that they’re separating. That’s one hell of a performance, Mr. Cruise. Someone ought to give you an Academy Award.

8) 50 Cent
People say Kanye West is arrogant. That may very well be true, but at least he backs it up with musical brilliance. Fiddy, on the other hand, talks so much shit about everyone else as if his shit don’t stink. He claims Kanye is successful because of him. Hello? Remember Eminem? You know, the most successful (and perhaps most talented) rapper in the world? He discovered you. He signed you. He made you. People only give a shit about you now because Eminem gave a shit about you. Kanye and Eminem have won multiple Grammys. And you, 50? Let’s see, you tried the bootleg version of 8 Mile with Get Rich or Die Tryin’, which did L-O-U-S-Y at the box office. You start beefs with everyone and their mommas and poppas. You openly bash gays—something Kanye has spoken out against. And you oversaturate the market with G-Unit crap—books, clothing, sneakers, video games, and soon, sex toys. Why don’t you do something useful with your time, like actually read one of your books.

7) Lindsay Lohan
I just don’t get the fascination. She starred in, what, one successful movie and suddenly she’s Hollywood’s “It” girl? Why do we care so much about her? Is it her alcoholic father and screwed-up childhood? Or is it because she’s a 12-year-old whore who likes to partake in underage drinking and dancing on tabletops at the hottest clubs and parties? Tabloids have linked her to every older male celebrity, from Jared Leto and Leonardo DiCaprio to Bruce Willis and Benicio Del Toro. She’s been in more car accidents by the age of 19 than any NASCAR driver. Why do I have to see photos of her at every major movie premiere? Besides herself and her poor fashion taste, what could she be promoting? That’s right—she’s a serious actress. Oh, go eat something.

6) Vanessa Minnnillo
Most of you probably don’t even know who this wench is, so allow me to educate you. In addition to being an attention whore, Vanessa is a former Miss Teen USA (which I’m sure had absolutely nothing to do with why MTV hired her as a TRL VJ). She is also a correspondent on Entertainment Tonight, probably because of her journalistic brilliance (how noble of her to wear a fat suit to experience what’s it like to be ugly and obese for a day) and her wonderful knack for asking the hard-hitting questions (“Hey Vin [Diesel], how long did it take you get that hot six-pack for XXX?”). And she’s been linked to every male celebrity, most notably Derek Jeter of the New York Yankees. (Obviously, not something that would make me her number one fan.) But why do I really despise her? Because she considers herself a celebrity. Of course, she denies this or gets all coy when someone suggests it. But we all know your agenda. You would show up to the opening of a pickle jar. You flirt with every male guest on TRL, from the Jonas Brothers (what are they, 10 years old?) to Will Smith (who is happily married) just for the attention. And even more annoying, anytime you interview a guest, you have this irritating habit of interrupting and touching said guest. Maybe you have Turrets Syndrome and you can’t help your ticks, but I’m thinking celebrities would appreciate it more if you didn’t stroke their chests or make the interviews about you. It’s just a shame when pretty girls like Vanessa feel the need to dumb themselves down to get attention. Oh, and you're Filipino, so enough with the ghetto talk like you from 'da hood.

5) Britney Spears
Oye, where do I begin? This is the moment in which I feel bad for American Idol rejects who are actually talented singers. Anyone know why Britney is a recording artist? Yeah, she’s got a handful of catchy hits, but I could sing them better. Questionable talent aside, this girl has made more headlines for her stupidity and personal life than any of her musical “achievements.” She’s married to a deadbeat Vanilla Ice wannabe (Kevin Federline, K-Fed, K-Fag, whatever you prefer). She’s now a new mommy who has a penchant for driving with child on her lap and changing said child’s diapers on restaurant tables as disgruntled diners look on. And now the tabloids are playing the “Britney: Pleasantly Plump or Pleasantly Pregnant” game (I pray for the former). Lest me not forget that she was recently treated at a hospital for a wound to her foot—while walking barefoot upon the Hawaiian streets, she stepped on a hypodermic needle. Possible Mensa candidate? Britney has basically become the epitome of white trailer park trash—the only difference being that she lives in a gazillion-dollar Malibu mansion with maids, nannies, and her mom to help her raise little Sean Preston. Every few months Britney claims she’s taking a break from her whirlwind career. Well, then take one! Take all the time you need! In fact, disappear! I hear Siberia is gorgeous this time of year!

4) All Reality TV Personalities
I have a message for anyone who has ever participated in a reality TV show (e.g., "Real World", "Survivor", "The Bachelor", etc.)—get a friggin’ job! You’re not celebrities. You’re losers without any future agenda. You couldn’t spell “I.Q.” so you figured you’d make a career for yourself by eating tarantulas on "Fear Factor." How lovely. And what’s worse is that we, as reality TV viewers, give you fools the attention you crave. We tune in week after week to watch Tonya cry in the corner as Rachel and Veronica make fun of her boob job on "Real World/Rules: Battle of the Sexes." Reality TV is out of control. It creates celebrities out of untalented, unintelligent retards who know only how to look pretty on TV. Case in point—number three on my list.

3) “Laguna Beach” cast
Kristin Cavallari. Talan Torriero. LC. Steven. Why do we care about these spoiled idiotic teenagers? Why are even dumber teenagers drooling over the drama that unfolds amongst these wankers? Steven parties because it’s his only "job" (he will be featured with All-American Rejects’ lead singer Tyson in an MTV Spring Break show, which basically pays them to have the ultimate spring break trip—read: they get drunk and enjoy SkankFest). Talan wants to be taken seriously as a musician. Long pause. Okay, next. LC will be starring in a “Laguna Beach” spin-off called “The Hills,” which will chronicle her dramatic life as an intern at Teen Vogue and student at LA’s Fashion Institute of Technology. I bet “Laguna Beach” had absolutely nothing to do with this nice opportunity. (After all, why should “ordinary” folks like myself, who have actual journalism backgrounds, get internships at popular magazines? That wouldn’t make any sense.) Lest we forget about Kristin? She’s just little miss “It” girl these days, even without any acting experience whatsoever. She’s appeared on a handful of magazine covers, including Seventeen. She gets access to most of the big Hollywood parties. She got to host UPN’s “Get This Party Started,” which was unfortunately cancelled after one episode (I couldn’t imagine why). She even recently appeared as a lesbian cheerleader on an episode of “Veronica Mars.” My heart goes out to all you starving artists out there.

2) George W. Bush
Is there really any need for an explanation?

1) Paris Hilton
My #1 choice should come as no surprise. I mean, what is up with this Paris Hilton crap? Why do we even consider her a celebrity? Do we even know what she does for a living (aside from being a professional ass-kisser at every Hollywood party)? It’s a sad state of affairs when your life’s culminating moment includes a sex tape and reruns of the Simple Life. Paris is a caricature of herself. Is it really possible to mock yourself on a daily basis? The ginormous sunglasses, the blindingly fake blond hair (sometimes with extensions), the fake and bake orange tan, the flamboyant fashion faux-pas—might I add, fur is not faux. Paris might be the only humanoid bold enough to wear a chinchilla coat while actually carrying around her pet chinchilla (or whatever rat-faced animal she tortures). It’s almost futile to judge her because she doesn’t care. She’s a giant pink force field that allows no ounce of criticism to graze her nose job. “I’m rich, you’re not” is seemingly the mantra she lives by. The girl didn’t graduate from high school or ever hold a real job. But because she’s a bimbo heiress, she gets to record an album. Now that’s hot.

(Photo Sources: Egotastic.com, A Socialite's Life, Style.com, MTV.com)

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

Oscar the Bore

Could the 78th Academy Awards have been anymore dull? Anymore painful? Anymore unsurprising? Even host Jon Stewart’s jokes fell flat more than a few times with the “glamorous” audience.

Most exciting moment? Jennifer Garner made her first public appearance since birthing Violet Anne Affleck and tripped on her dress as she walked on stage to present an award. Fortunately (or unfortunately) she gracefully recovered, thanking her expertise in stunt work.

Ooops? (Great breasts, BTW.)

Funniest moment? Will Ferrell and Steve Carrell presenting the award for Best Makeup. Just take a look at the photo below. Bronzer and fake eyelashes—‘nuff said.

Second funniest moment? Ben Stiller exploring the wonders of green-screen technology as he prances around the stage in a neon green bodysuit. "Yes, we still see your body, Ben. No, your head is still attached to your body, Ben. Yes, I do see you opening up that envelope, Ben." Just priceless.

Biggest reason to gouge my eyes out? Montage upon montage upon montage—the most brilliant of which chronicled western films that suggest a recurrence of gayness (as seen in this year's Brokeback Mountain—perhaps not the first gay cowboy film?). Imagine this: the show could be an hour shorter without sequences of clips from films that I’m never actually going to watch. Film noir? What?

Can’t say there were many (or any) award upsets. As hotly contested as the categories for costume design and sound editing are, I’m pretty sure few punches were thrown backstage. I damn near correctly predicted all the major categories, with exception of Best Picture, which went to Crash (I picked Brokeback Mountain, as did 99% of the world). Philip Seymour Hoffman was a shoo-in for Best Actor in Capote, and I knew either Reese Witherspoon (Walk the Line) or Felicity Huffman (Transamerica) would take home Best Actress. (Reese won.)

If there was one moment that I could’ve done without (and I had to choose one moment—not the entire show), I would’ve nixed the Three 6 Mafia performance of “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp” from Hustle & Flow. There are some things in life that are just unnecessary. I’m a hip-hop fan. I own many a rap CD. But I think Jon Stewart said it best when he joked, “For those of you keeping score at home—Three 6 Mafia, 1, Martin Scorsese, 0.” That’s right, the “mafia” won for Best Original Song From a Movie. ::bangs head against the computer screen::

Screw the awards. What do we really care about the most? Fashion!

Unfortunately I failed to watch the red carpet pre-show, but there weren’t too many fashion disasters at this year’s Oscars. I’ll run through a list of my favorite choices, best and worst.

BEST DRESSED

1) Salma Hayek
Going colorful is often viewed as bold and risqué. But there are good risks and bad risks. Here’s an example of good. The teal color looked amazing as did Salma and her boobs. She accentuated all of the right areas, which are her entire curvaceous body. What I would give . . .

2) Jessica Alba
Just to clarify—this is a fashion critique, not an acting critique. I hear that Jessica is tired of taking her clothes off in front of the camera and wants to be taken seriously as an actor. Well, I got news for you, sweetheart. I can’t say I feel bad for you pretty people. No one cares about your acting, especially when you look this good. My advice? Go ugly like Charlize Theron in Monster. Anyways, Jessica looked amazing. Gold really suits her gorgeous skin tone. She can do no wrong.

3) Jennifer Lopez
I don’t think J.Lo has ever worn something I didn’t like. The green is stunning on her. Girlfriend got a tan. And who the hell is saying she’s pregnant? There’s no way her booty and a pregnant belly could fit into that dress. Absolutely not.

4) Nicole Kidman
If it weren’t for her blonde hair and blue eyes, I’d mistake her for a geisha. Nicole is a porcelain doll. She’s so proud to be ivory that she wears a dress to match. Love it.

5) Felicity Huffman
Forget Marcia Cross, Teri Hatcher, and Eva Longoria. Felicity is hot stuff and she looked fabulous at the Academy Awards in her little black number. You work that cleavage, girl! Even if you don’t have much, work it anyway!

6) Reese Witherspoon
I wasn’t a fan of the vintage Chanel (or not-so-vintage Chanel as we later learned) that she wore to the Golden Globes a month ago. But I will say that Reese looked stunning at the Oscars. And she was even more beautiful when she accepted her Best Actress award. Reese couldn’t be more of a sweetheart. And her husband is hot, too!

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Uma Thurman

Keira Knightly

Hilary Swank

BEST DRESSED COUPLE

Will Smith and Jada Pinkett-Smith

Absolutely fabulous. These two are always the most well-coordinated, fashionable couple at every event. I love that blue color on Jada. And Will is such a freakin’ cutie, I could just eat him up—if Jada would let me.

WORST DRESSED

1) Naomi Watts
Is it me or did Naomi steal the tattered dress she wore in King Kong? Unless her stylist thought it would be an excellent idea to run the frock through a paper shredder. Poor and homeless is not a good look.

2) Charlize Theron
Who thought it would be a good idea that Charlize should attend the Oscars as gift wrap? Honestly, was the ginormous bow really necessary? Whenever I look at this photo, I just want to tear it off. The bow is about to eat her head! She looks fantastic otherwise. But the bow must go!

3) Michelle Williams
I’m not sure what’s worse—the canary yellow dress or the red lipstick. Either way, this look was a total disaster. It’s never a good idea to look like a bottle of Golden’s Mustard. All she’s missing is a yellow beak and feathers. Wait, I think I just noticed the feathers.

Not much else to say about the Academy Awards. My congratulations to all the winners. My apologies to all the losers. My advise to the show and losers? Try to suck less next time around. And Reese, whatever you do, do NOT develop Superhero Syndrome. Catwoman and Aeon Flux--need I say more? Winning an Oscar does not mean you need to save the world. Thanks.

(Source: E! Online)

2006-02-23T15:53:00.000-05:00

American Idol Season 5: Predictions

As hard as I try to not watch American Idol year after year, there is just some kind of evil, addictive quality that won’t release me from its clutches. I laugh. I groan. I swoon. I just can’t tear myself away.

After seeing all 24 finalists sing their little hearts out the last two nights, I thought I’d provide a little rundown of the amazing, the mediocre and the horrific.

THE LADIES – TOP SIX

1) Katharine McPhee, 21, Los Angeles
Clearly the best female vocalist of Season Five. She may look like an ordinary girl, but she has the pipes. Her mother is her vocal coach, which doesn’t necessarily mean anything (as we’ve seen in the painful audition rounds—“I’m in the choir”, “My sister is Toni Braxton”, etc.). Although I didn’t think this week was her best performance, I can (and should) see Miss McPhee making it to the top 3 or 4.

2) Mandisa, 29, Tennessee
You know a contestant is a diva when she goes by one name. I love it. And I love it when sistahs sing classic pop rock hits, as Mandisa did Tuesday night with Heart. I’m sick of hearing Whitney and Celine. Sistahs can sing some soul and rock out, too. This girl can bring it. And she may be a whole lotta woman, but she’s such a doll. Put that Simon in his place, girl!

3) Lisa Tucker, 16, Anaheim, CA
I love me some youngins—in a non-perverse Michael Jackson sorta way of course. We have yet to see a contestant under the age of 20 become the American Idol. Diana Degarmo came the closest in season 3 as a runner-up, but Fantasia took care of business that year (as she should have). Tucker is probably the most talented 16-year-old in all five seasons. She’s mature for her age, as evidenced in her song choice Tuesday night. Don’t be surprised to see her at the end.

4) Paris Bennett, 17, Georgia
I’ll be honest—I hated her performance Tuesday night. When she said she was singing Gladys Knight’s “Midnight Train to Georgia,” I really thought she would turn the stage upside down. I thought it was the perfect song choice. But then she opened her mouth and sang, and she sounded horrific. The judges, including Simon, loved her. Now I’m not kissing her ass because her mother and grandmother are successful singers in the music industry. I like her because she’s got a unique voice. Not quite like Fantasia, but there are some similarities. I’m willing to overlook Tuesday night’s performance and give her another shot. I know this girl can bring the house down. And she’s the cutest thing since poodles in skirts.

5) Kinnik Sky, 28, Georgia
The judges weren’t feeling her Tuesday night, but I thought she sounded great. It would be a shame to not see her in the top 12. American Idol’s audience seems to have a disinterest in R&B vocalists. Some of the best former AI contestants sing R&B—Tamyra Gray (Season 1), Latoya London (Season 3), and Vonzell Solomon (Season 4). Ultimately what befalls contestants like Kinnik is their lack of face time. Tuesday night was probably the first time viewers got to see Kinnik sing. I hope she gets another week.

6) Ayla Brown, 17, Massachusetts
I really enjoy this girl. She’s Miss “I Do It All”—she sings and has a college basketball scholarship. She did a beautiful rendition of Christina Aguilera’s “Reflection.” It wasn’t perfect, but I think she really showed the audience that she’s not just a jock with a decent singing voice. She won’t win, but she’s got a good shot at the top 12.

THE LADIES – BOTTOM SIX

7) Melissa McGhee, 21, Tampa, FL
She’s a wildcard for me. She was one of the better female singers Tuesday night, but overall I’m not sure if she’s really one of the best. I fear the audience could forget about her. I liken McGhee to Jessica Sienna from Season 4. She turned out a few good performances—enough to get her into the top 12 and stick around for a few weeks. But she just didn’t generate enough of a fan base. And she simply wasn’t as good as the best contestants. Same thing with Melissa. She’s forgettable. I’d like to see her in the top 12.

8) Kellie Pickler, 19, North Carolina
If American Idol were a personality contest, this girl would win—hands and feet down. She’s adorable and she’s got the sob story—her dad is in jail, her family is poor, yadda yadda yadda. Bottom line? This is a singing competition. The best singer will (and should) win. Pickler is not the best. She’s almost a carbon copy of Carrie Underwood with personality, but less talent. I have a feeling Pickler will make it to the top 12. After all, personality tends to carry certain people far in this competition. I’m just tired of the blonde, white, all-American girl thing. We had Kelly Clarkson. We had Carrie Underwood. Enough already. And hello, she’s orange!

9) Brenna Gethers, 25, Mt. Vernon, NY
And second place in the personality competition goes to . . . Brenna Gethers! The girl’s got some lip! But I like her. She talks back to Simon—hell, she’s the ghetto female version of him. And I mean that in a good way. But her voice? Not so sure. She played it pretty safe Tuesday night with Stevie Wonder’s “You’re the Sunshine of My Life.” Her voice sounded nice, but I’d need another a performance to determine a verdict. But I doubt she’ll last another week or two.

10) Becky O’Donahue, 25, Dobbs Ferry, NY
I just learned that this girl and her twin sister, Jesse, were not only in Maxim, but they also appeared on an episode of Fear Factor. Way to be reality TV whores. After hearing that, I hope this girl gets the boot. Sure, she’s probably the hottest female contestant, but best singer? Hell to the NO. Becky and Jesse probably lack any other talent aside from looking pretty. Why else would they waste their time with reality TV shows? You’re 25. Get a real job.

11) Heather Cox, 22, North Carolina
Unfortunately for Heather, Tuesday night was probably the first and last time she’ll perform on American Idol. No one knows who she is and her performance was pretty forgettable. Maybe if she got a little more face time during the first few rounds she would have a better shot now. It sucks, but that’s the reality of TV (pun intended).

12) Stevie Scott, 19, California
Probably out of all 12 girls, Stevie was the worst. She just sounded nervous and awkward. She has this powerful opera voice, but she tried doing this falsetto thing with a Josh Groban song. The worst thing to do during the first week of competition—the first time viewers get to see you and vote—is try showing off your versatility by switching it up a bit, trying a new genre or a different stylized song. If I’ve never heard you sing before, and you try something outside of your normal range, I’m not going to get it. You want to make a good first impression. Be yourself. Be who you are. Unfortunately for Stevie, she wasn’t and she’ll probably go home tonight.

THE GENTELMAN – TOP SIX

1) Chris Daughtry, 26, North Carolina
Want my predicition? Chris will win American Idol 5, and I stand by that choice. And if he doesn’t win, a guy most certainly will. I love Chris. He’s got this raw, raspy rock-singer voice. Dude sang Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive.” Nobody has sung Bon Jovi on American Idol, at least not from what I can recall. But Chris did Jon Bon Jovi justice. In fact, he may have sounded better. I can’t wait to see what this kid does next. He epitomizes great pop rock vocals.

2) Elliot Yamin, 27, Richmond, VA
Simon Cowell says Elliot is the best male vocalist that has ever competed on American Idol. So soon we forget Ruben Studdard and Clay Aiken. But I think Simon is on to something. Elliot sings so effortlessly and with such ease. It’s hard to believe a record label hasn’t already snatched him up. He did Stevie Wonder proud last night. Just amazing. Simply amazing. If Chris doesn’t win, Elliot better.

3) Taylor Hicks, 29, Birmingham, AL
I’m not going to discuss the gray hair. It’s irrelevant. If anything, it adds character to an already colorful fellow. The man is so jovial, so happy to be a part of American Idol. Like Paula Abdul said last night, Taylor eats, sleeps, and breathes music. He’s the reincarnation of Ray Charles. The moment he walked into the judge's room playing the harmonica, I was instantly rooting for him. He might not win this competition, but he deserves all the success in the world.

4) Ace Young, 25, Denver, CO
Oh, I can see a problem a-brewing. We got a fan favorite on our hands. Now I like this guy a lot—great voice, great hair, great eyes, blah, blah, blah. But I don’t think he’s the best. And he might just give some of the other more talented contestants a run for their money. If there’s a contestant the teenybopper girls are going to vote for, it’s going to be Ace. I’m putting all you other contestants on notice: BRING YOUR “A+” GAME!

5) Gedeon McKinney, 17, Memphis, TN
When I first heard this kid sing in the previous round, I wasn’t impressed. I was somewhat surprised he made it to the top 24. But after watching last night’s performance of “Shout,” I can see what the judges saw in him (aside from his crazy huge smile). He’s a born entertainer. He’s confident, but I don’t think he’s overconfident. However, I’m not completely sold on Gedeon. I’d like to hear him sing a song that better shows off his vocal range. Hopefully I’ll get to see him next week.

6) José “Sway” Penala, 28, San Francisco
Doesn’t he look like Frankie J? I know this guy can sing, but I was not impressed last night. Like I previously said, the worst thing to do with your first live TV performance is to try something different. He sang an Earth, Wind, & Fire song all in falsetto—big mistake. He might get by this week, but he better bring it next week. Do what you do best, people!

THE GENTLEMAN – BOTTOM SIX

7) Patrick Hall, 27, Arkansas
I got a peak at his singing abilities during the early audition rounds, and had I created these lists at that point, Patrick would’ve been in my top six picks. He’s Clay Aiken-like, but like Simon said, “with personality.” But he sang Melissa Etheridge’s “Come to My Window” last night. Why, man, why? He sounded OK, but I have a feeling the viewers are going to leave him outside of the “window” in the cold.

8) David Radford, 17, Illinois
I’m just not feeling the one-dimensional crooner thing. It didn’t work for John Stevens in Season 3, and I doubt it will work for David. He’s different, I get it. But I think he needs the show more than the show needs him. He’s got a nice Frank Sinatra-like voice. In fact, I think he’s better than John Stevens, but is this as far as he can go? Will viewers learn from the past? I’m thinking so.

9) Kevin Covais, 16, Levittown, NY
You gotta hand it to Kev—he’s absolutely charming and adorable. I want to pinch his cheeks. But is he good enough to be in this competition? I don’t think so and I hope the audience realizes that soon. He sang Brian McKnight’s “One Last Cry,” which sounded way better than I had expected. But he’s really not good enough to be in the competition. However, I have a sneaky suspicion that he, like Kellie Pickler, will move on to the top 12.

10) Bucky Covington, 28, North Carolina
Okay, I get that he’s country, and there’s really nothing wrong with that. But I’m not so sure about the voice. He’s alright, I guess. But should he really be in this competition? He sounded a lot like Chad Kroeger, lead singer of Nickelback, when he sang that Lynard Skynard song. His voice was way raspier than I remember, even though I only heard him sing once. Again, trying to do something different—don’t do that! Points for an original name though!

11) Will Makar, 16, Texas
What is it with the cute 16 year olds? Is it a rule on American Idol that there must be at least one adorable 16-year-old boy for the grannies to go gah-gah for? Will sang the Jackson Five’s “I Want You Back” because he thought his 16-year-old voice is similar to the 10-year-old voice of Michael Jackson. Was there soap in your ears, boy? If you get another shot, which you might, please sing a song that showcases your vocal abilities. I really don’t need a Mickey Mouse Club routine. Thanks. And what's up with looking like Fred Savage from the Wonder Years?

12) Bobby Bennett, 19, Denver, CO
Oh, Bobby. No, no, no. There is never a right time to sing Barry Manilow’s “Copa Cabana,” unless a drunken mess at an empty karaoke bar. The kid looked like a circus ringmaster. If anyone goes home this week, it has to be Bobby. If not for his mediocre singing, then definitely for his eerie obsession with Barry Manilow.

TOP FIVE: Chris Daughtry, Elliot Yamin, Taylor Hicks, Ace Young, and Katharine McPhee.

HONORABLE MENTIONS: Mandisa, Lisa Tucker, Paris Bennett

WILD CARDS: Ayla Brown, Kevin Covais, Kellie Pickler, Melissa McGhee

WINNER: Chris Daughtry

(Photos courtesy of IdolOnFox.com)

2006-02-21T13:21:00.000-05:00

The Arabs are Coming! The Arabs are Coming!

It’s always a good idea to allow Arabs to control your country’s major ports. No really, it is.

Well, President Bush thinks so. The man who condemns acts of terrorism on the United States and promises to fight terrorism to the death (not his death, of course) is the same man who is now allowing Arab-owned company Dubai Ports World to operate six major U.S. ports, including New York and New Jersey (Source: USA Today).

I say we just skip all the democracy crap and just instate Osama bin Laden as the new President of the United States. Maybe Saddam Hussein can be the vice president. Actually Saddam is a bit of a power junkie, so we could let him run the country and bin Laden could head up the CIA.

How can Bush not realize that he’s inviting terrorism into this country? Is he just so blinded by false hopes and ideals of freedom, democracy and capitalism that he’s willing to put American citizens at risk once again?

The man is truly an anomaly. An inexplicable anomaly. It’s futile to call him stupid anymore. I’m almost convinced that Bush is actually a terrorist in disguise. He could be cavorting secretly with the enemy.

It’s reckless that the Bush administration would risk the safety of Americans when our country is already under such a high security alert. Since 9/11 our airports have been increasingly upholding all security measures to ensure public safety. After subway bombings in London last summer, American subway systems in major metropolitan areas, including New York and Chicago, were subsequently placed on high alert. Even security at the Mexican-American border have proved to be shaky and inadequate.

Now seaports in New York, New Jersey, New Orleans, Miami, Baltimore and Philadelphia will be controlled by a United Arab Emirates-owned company. The Associated Press reports that “critics have cited the UAE’s history as an operational and financial base for the hijackers who carried out” the 9/11 attacks. How 'bout we just sell all of our American airlines to the UAE and allow Arabs to operate all airports?

And apparently New York and Maryland officials were not notified of this business transaction. Gotta love the communication between state and federal governments.

Hey Bush—still think this selling-American-ports-to-terrorist-country thing is a good idea?

2006-02-17T15:49:00.000-05:00

Photo of the Day

(Source: AOL.com)

That would be Harry Whittington, who was "accidentally" shot by Vice President Dick Cheny about a week ago. He was discharged from the hospital today. He looks like he soaked his head in a bowl of piss.

Homeboy is YELLOW. I'm not sure what could be more exasperating--being shot by a friend in the face, neck, and chest or turning YELLOW. Dude oughtta pop some birdshot up Dick Cheney's you-know-where. Blow Dick's dick off, that's what I say!

What's sad is that this man is apologizing to the man who shot him. "My family and I are deeply sorry for everything Vice President Cheney and his family have had to deal with," Whittington says in a statement. Had you known nothing of what happened, you would've thought Cheney was shot. Why is the victim apologizing to the assailant?

Why should I feel sorry for a dick?

OK, 'nuff dick jokes. Too easy.

2006-02-14T15:45:00.000-05:00

Saddam Hussein Starves Himself for the Good of Mankind

The Associated Press reports that deposed Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein has proclaimed to be on a hunger strike "to protest tough stances by the chief judge" of his trial. Hussein claims to have not eaten in 3 days while his former (un)intelligence chief, Ibrahim Barzan, has starved himself for 2 days.

Allow me to be the first to ask: Does anyone care?

For more on this story, click here.

Meanwhile, in completely unrelated, however similarly stupid, news, Harry Wittington, the 900-year-old lawyer shot by Vice President "I'm a" Dick Cheney, suffered a "'silent' heart attack" this morning. He was "accidentally" shot as the two old biddies were hunting some quail on some ranch in Texas. Wittington was peppered with pellet gunshots in the face, neck and chest. (Source: MSNBC)

Anyone else think this would be a real crappy way to kick the bucket?

Just when you thought the Bush presidency couldn't get any more pitiful. . .

2006-02-09T15:13:00.000-05:00

The Grammys or the Yawnys?

The Grammys. Let’s talk about the Grammys. Aside from being the longest, most boring awards show on the planet, the Grammys often plays host to some of the most questionable fashion choices. Let’s start with the best dressed:

1) Alicia Keys is often notorious for her fashion faux pas at the Grammys, but this year she looked stunning in her custom-designed black lace Armani halter gown. While she doesn’t have much to offer in the cleavage department, she fuses sexy and classy in this gorgeous ensemble. Okay, who am I kidding as I try to sound like a pretentious fashion critic? She’s hot, end of story.

2) Christina Milian pushed the envelope with this Max Azaria gown. (Then again, she’ll show up to the opening of said envelope). Not too hoochy, but revealing enough. I bet Nick Cannon is kicking himself in the head for letting her get away. The dress screams female superhero to me—hotter than Wonder Woman? Her abs certainly say so.

3) Beyoncé. I heart you. Ain’t nobody more bootylicious and bootyful than you. You know it, yet you play it off like you don’t. I love it. Girlfriend also looked like she dropped some pounds. Gorgeous. Just gorgeous.

4) John Legend. Multiple Grammy-award winning John Legend. Why am I hardly surprised that he showed up in a slick white suit like he was Diddy? The man looked sharp—perhaps the best dressed man in the house. He and Alicia Keys need to just make some babies or something.

Now onto my “interestingly dressed” list. Not quite bad, but not quite good. Perhaps questionably dressed?

1) Kanye West either decided to harness his inner Prince or raid the closet of Earth, Wind and Fire bassist, Verdine White. Kanye, I know you said you’d get mad if you didn’t win Album of the Year, but a cummerbund? Must you torture us so? Your girlfriend's hot though.

2) Gwen Stefani – couture or cavewoman? You decide. But Gwen is Gwen and she’ll wear whatever the hell she wants. It would behoove anyone to criticize her fashion choices. And she’s nearly six months pregnant. Now for the collective “Awwwwwwwwwwww.”

3) Now I love me some Kelly Clarkson. And I loved her from the waist up in her perfectly fitted black strapless gown. But from the bottom, it looked like a herd of black sheep was grazing by her ankles.

4) I had the same issue with Mariah Carey's performance ensemble. Gorgeous from the thighs up, just a mess from the thighs down. It’s as if she was unsure whether she wanted to expose her legs so she had some sheer fabric stapled to her dress. And what was up with the hippy hair? Cut that shit, Mimi.

5) So I have no idea who Donni Rae is, but she decided to make us want to know who she is as she pop-locked her booty up and down the green carpet last night. And it was quite clear that she wasn’t wearing any unmentionables as she showed off what I hope weren’t rips in her dress.

6) Was Ciara going for the 10-year-old-going-to-a-birthday-party look or Southern girl charm? I was confused by this choice. Ciara has such a rockin’ body that I would’ve expected her to show it off a little more. Ah, well. She’s young--perhaps the next Janet Jackson? I’ll give her another chance.

And the “Worst Dressed” award goes to:

Oh, Teri Hatcher. Teri, I love you, you’re adorable, but this dress should not have seen the light of day. What were you thinking? What was your stylist thinking? Again, what were you thinking? Although I was relieved to know you were wearing undies, it’s not something I need verified with my own eyes. What a mess.

And as big a fan as I am of Madonna, I can't let her escape so easily. This . . . is . . . just . . . so . . . wrong. Knee-high boots must never be worn with dresses. This look just makes me sad.

Now about the awards. I can’t say I’m mad about any of the awards handed out. I figured John Legend and Kanye West would clean up. But clearly the surprise of the night was U2 picking up a couple of the night’s major awards, including Album of the Year and Song of the Year. I was also surprised that Green Day won Record of the Year for Boulevard of Broken Dreams. I thought Mariah or Kanye would grab that.

But we need not feel sorry for Mariah and Kanye as they both took home three Grammys a piece.

I was as happy as a pig in shit when Kelly Clarkson won for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance and Best Pop Vocal Album. Her reaction alone was priceless. She did everything except seizure and faint on stage at the sound of her name. She has really set herself apart from American Idol. She’s her own artist now, not a product of a TV show. Kudos to her!

Onto the performances. Madonna and the Gorillaz opened the show. If I could only have Madonna’s legs and Christina Milian’s abs. Sigh. Anyways, they were great. I loved how Madonna was superimposed on the screen with the Gorillaz, an animated band. Very neat. Did I mention her legs? The leotard is back, ya'll.

I enjoyed Kelly’s rendition of “Because of You,” especially at the end when her voice cracked a bit from all that choked-up emotion. Mariah sounded wonderful singing “We Belong Together” and “Fly Like a Bird,” but the hand thing must stop. John Legend was a breath of fresh air as he sang “Ordinary People” while playing the piano. And Christina Aguilera was simply divine (and a vocal show-off).

U2 and Mary J. Blige were quite good as well, though I enjoy Mary’s rendition of U2’s “One” more on her latest album than I did live. Sounded a little shaky.

I found Kanye and Jamie Foxx rather odd. First Destiny’s Child. Then Gwen Stefani. Must we experience another Drumline tribute?

Jay-Z and Linkin Park with the surprise appearance by Paul McCartney on stage was pretty awesome.

As for the Sly Stone tribute, it was alright. Joss Stone seems to enjoy performing other artists’ songs more so than her own, and barefoot no less. I’m surprised 9827347-year old Sly Stone didn’t keel over from the weight of his blond Mohawk.

I was rather bored by other performances, as I’m not a fan of Coldplay, Sugarland, Bruce Springsteen, Keith Urban, or Paul McCartney. I also skipped out on the tribute to the Hurricane Katrina victims as my bed was calling my name.

Overall, the Grammys were alright. Nothing terribly mind-blowing. Congratulations to all the winners. And might we try to dress a bit better next time? Oh yeah, and please hand out more awards at the ceremony with a few less tribute performances. K? Thanks.

(Source: E! Online, MSNBC, & Getty Images)

2006-02-07T14:59:00.000-05:00

Photo of the Day

I've been inspired to start something a little new. It might not be quite so original, but in order to add more content to my blog, I'd like to post a noteworthy photo each day. I might expand on this idea a little later. Unfortunately, I don't have the time to post my words of wisdom as often as I'd like. But eventually I'd like to post something each day in an effort to keep readers coming back (do I have any readers? Please leave feedback if you read this!).

Anyways, I came across the photos below in my blogging travels. Quite inspirational, don't ya think?

(Source: New York Post) Well, isn't it Mrs. Britney Jean Spears Federline with her 5-month old bundle of joy, Sean Preston, atop her lap as she's driving what appears to be a Cadillac Escalade. Mother of the Year, I say.

In all honesty, some people should be forbidden to have children. Fornicate all you want, but be damned to hell if you conceive.

Stupidity (of others, not my own) often fuels my writing. Expect more photos of similar nature to come.

2006-01-11T11:56:00.000-05:00

ATTENTION INCONSIDERATE CELL PHONE (WO)MAN

You’re a dick. You wanna know why you’re a dick? I can tell you why you’re a dick. Listen up.

I don’t appreciate it when I’m walking through the mall and suddenly I see you yelling at me like I’m your stupid wife who doesn’t know how to turn on a computer, and then I realize you’re wearing one of those stupid headsets. I didn’t realize cupping a cell phone to your ear was so challenging. It’s not a Bluetooth that you need. What you need is a muzzle.

I don’t appreciate it when you ignore the signs at the gym that clearly state, “Use of cell phones is prohibited.” It’s a problem when I can hear your obnoxious, rambling conversations about absolutely nothing through my CD player’s headphones, which are at the highest possible volume. Can I send you my otology bills when I go deaf? It’s also a problem when your loud, stupid voice distracts me from completing my 4-mile run on the treadmill. You’re annoying and you need to be banished from all gym facilities.

I don’t appreciate it when you disregard state law that prohibits the use of cell phones while driving. I especially don’t appreciate it when I’m driving through a parking lot and you’re backing out of your spot while chatting on your cell phone, ignoring not one, not two, but three honks of my horn so as you don’t slam into my car. It’s times like these when I fantasize about sitting there as a stupid people such as yourself could back into me, damage both of our cars, and end up paying for twice the damages. You’ll wish the cell phone were never invented.

I don’t appreciate it when you take phone calls from your boyfriend while we’re having a nice meal at a restaurant. Whether it’s weekly, monthly or annually, this is our time to catch up with each other. I shouldn’t be put on hold (pun intended) while you field calls from your beau about tomorrow night’s plans. It’s rude and impolite, and I deserve your attention, not your boyfriend.

I don’t appreciate it when you “forget” to silence your cell phone in class, at the library, in the office, or in any other quiet place. There’s no need for explanation. You’re just dumb if you don’t do it. Who actually appreciates the sound of a cell phone when they’re trying to study for a midterm or grasp a difficult concept in the classroom? Not me, and certainly not your professor or your boss.

And I obviously don’t appreciate it when your cell phone starts ringing in the movie theater during the movie, especially after a commercial advising the silencing of all phones was shown before the movie trailers. Movie theaters should punish these nitwits by the push of not a cell phone button, but a button that launches offenders from their seats into their cars in the parking lot—another place where they shouldn’t be using their cell phone unless stationary.

And just so this column doesn’t prove to be an unhelpful rant against cell phone users, here is a list of times and places where it’s appropriate to use said device.

A loud public place, such as a mall, is always suitable for chitchat time on your cell phone. But it’s rather bothersome when the conversation must continue at the register. I’m not a cashier, but I doubt they appreciate it when they’re treated as second best to their customers. It’s almost like call waiting, but the other caller is in front of you waiting for you to either pay or end your present call. There’s nothing like watching a cell phone make love to the customer’s neck as she juggles her handbag and mobile device while attempting to exchange payment for goods. “That’s what the headset is for,” you say. But I’m not so sure how the cashier feels when someone is staring her in the face while talking, but not to her. Awkward, eh?
The gym is appropriate, as long as you remain either in the parking lot or the locker room. Although I rather not hear your conversation with your boyfriend about last night while I’m adjusting my sports bra, the phone serves its purpose while not distracting other individuals.
The car is only acceptable when you’re not driving. It’s safer. It’s private. It’s not annoying (unless I’m waiting to take your parking spot).
If you’re in a quiet place, such as the office or library, take your call outside where you’re not disturbing other people. It’s a simple courtesy. Really.
And of course, although it may defeat its purpose, you can never go wrong with using your cell phone in the privacy of your own home.

So in conclusion, Inconsiderate Cell Phone (Wo)Man, don’t be a dick. Your phony cellular banter doesn’t impress me. Wise the F up; don’t be a schmuck. Thanks.

2005-12-22T11:18:00.000-05:00

"I Seem to Have Left My Talent in My Other Prada Bag"

Britney. Paris. Nicole. Jessica. Lindsay. Sprinkle ‘em all over Los Angeles and New York, and you got yourself a giant Hollywood starlet tartlet—some of the world’s biggest household names, many of whom do nothing but make themselves worth the flashbulbs.

“Celebrity” is an elusive term, increasingly encompassing more than just talented folks. While there was a time when society was predominantly fascinated with athletes, musicians and movie stars, nowadays all it takes to score oneself some fame is being a runaway bride (“‘Runaway bride’ in deal to sell life story”) or a drama-riddled rich girl with “problems” and hair extensions.

The notion of “celebrity” has altered so much that one can be a celebrity by association. The paparazzi will take pellet gunshots to their extremities to get a photographic glimpse of a pregnant Britney Spears (“Photographer shot staking out Britney Spears”). Even before the birth of her son, Sean Preston, I don’t recall a more famous fetus. The kid hadn't so much as taken his first piss yet and the celebrity weeklies are annointing him heir extraordinaire to Miss Spears's fortunes.

Then there are the celebrity siblings. As long as you share a surname (and perhaps a bloodtype), you're handed a golden ticket for the express train to Hollywood. The Simpsons. The Spears. The Lohans. Jessica, Britney and Lindsay have laid down the yellow bricks on their road to stardom (their personal assistants probably did the heavy lifting). All Ashlee, Jamie-Lynn and Alli have to do is walk across.

Fame is a remarkable thing. It seems easy enough to achieve. We think, “If she can do it, why can’t I?” But after spending more time waiting in long lines for various casting calls and auditions than actually exercising some talent (whatever that may be), fame can seem intangible. Being first doesn’t always mean being best. After the judges sift through the “ugly”—as in untalented or bad looking—you still may be one of twenty other hopefuls. Damn those Laguna Beach kids, they make it look so simple!

Celebrity-dom has become all the rage thanks to reality TV. Reality TV “stars” are recognized almost everywhere and are invited to the hottest parties, award shows, and movie/club openings just for playing themselves on TV. These individuals are more recognizable than Nobel Prize winners, high-profile politicians, and Academy Award-winning actors.

The most prominent example of this is MTV’s Laguna Beach cast. Apparently Kristin Cavalleri is the new “it” girl, appearing at some of the biggest Hollywood shindigs. I guess it helps to be pretty, blonde (or “blonde”), and fabulously wealthy – a somewhat common formula for fame nowadays. Cavalleri has even parlayed her real world drama into a hosting gig for the UPN network’s new show Get The Party Started.

Wouldn’t it be nice to get my hair did and lay out on the beach all day while getting paid for it? I’m clearly in the wrong business.

Why the fascination? Why are we, as members of a mainstream society, so obsessed with celebrity culture that we have to fabricate celebrities for our amusement? Get a bunch of dumb, hot teenagers together in a room and you got mucho drama, sex drive and a beautiful, messy recipe for fame that no one can resist.

If celebrity has become more tasteless, then no one has epitomized that notion more than everyone’s favorite heiress and tabloid whore herself, Paris Hilton. Besides maybe showing off her snatch in a porn video and being worth billions of dollars thanks to Daddy Hilton’s hotel franchise, what else has she contributed to society to elicit such fame (i.e., make herself matter)?

Paris does get around all right. She’s appeared on covers of Maxim, FHM and Elle magazines. She keeps every major airline in business by flying back and forth between New York and L.A. to dance on tabletops at the hottest Hollywood parties. She even appears at every high profile award show including the MTV Video Music Awards, Billboard Music Awards and American Music Awards.

But why?

Why do the paparazzi adore her? What is it about Paris Hilton that has digital cameras in a photographic frenzy?

I’m beginning to think it’s appealing to exploit stupid people, especially stupid rich people. Maybe we draw more attention to these people by photographing and talking about them so much. But in the end, I think it makes us “ordinary” folk feel better about ourselves when someone like Paris Hilton gets her dirty laundry exposed, so to speak, to the entire world.

Paris isn’t famous because she’s rich. There are many non-famous wealthy individuals, of course. Her semi-porn star moment coupled with her media and celebrity connections has catapulted her to the front pages of Star Magazine, Us Weekly and OK! Magazine.

But instead of being associated with everything Hollywood, Paris now seeks to become Hollywood. She fulfilled many a dream when she got slashed in box-office bomb House of Wax. She currently stretches herself by playing herself on FOX’s the Simple Life, which also features former tabletop buddy/celebutante, Nicole Richie. So what’s left but record an album with the music industry’s hottest producers?

No, talent and substance are no longer requirements of becoming objects of the public’s fascination. Jessica Simpson proved to us all that being a ditzy blonde, a reckless spender, and the thorn in her soon-to-be-ex-husband Nick Lachey’s side on an MTV show (Newlyweds) is all it takes to get on the fast track to stardom. Apparently fame entails way more than being a mediocre singer with some catchy hit songs.

Maybe someone should’ve told Britney that.

2005-11-30T10:57:00.000-05:00

50 Cent: "Get rich or die a homo"

"Get rich or die tryin'" is the adage to live by, according to Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson, the unofficial king of bullets, bitches and bling bling. And the riches don’t seem to be dwindling for the rap star, who just starred in his debut film, Get Rich or Die Tryin’.

Money is so crucial to Fiddy that he’s been expanding his G-Unit empire on a daily basis. To bank off his own musical success and follow in his mentor Eminem’s footsteps, he’s created G-Unit Records, a branch of Interscope. In addition to producing multi-platinum albums for his G-Unit soldiers Lloyd Banks, Young Buc, Tony Yayo and the recently ousted Game, he has just signed rap duo Mobb Deep and rapper-turned-minister-turned rapper again Ma$e. 50 is also set to launch Olivia, G-Unit’s First Lady, with her new R&B album dropping in early 2006.

And like many musicians these days, he owns an urban clothing line (guess the name) and a small corner of Reebok with a sneaker line, G-Unit Footwear.

World conquest doesn’t end there, however.

50 has gone digital with his own video game, "Bulletproof," which features the rapper in his natural ambience, shooting up thugs and hustling on the streets of New York. The Playstation 2 game features new music and freestyle rhymes from the rapper.

50 recently delved into the world of publishing with his autobiography, From Pieces to Weight, which again reminds fans that he was shot nine times during his street hustling days. He’ll continue to endorse literacy with his new venture, G-Unit Books—“a new line of hip-hop novellas and graphic novels” of the “street” variety ("50 Cent to launch ‘street fiction’ book line”).

And to reward 50 for all his public endeavors, GQ Magazine has just named him one of its “Men of the Year” along with "wedding crasher" Vince Vaughn and, um, Jennifer Aniston.

There’s no question that Mr. Jackson is gettin’ rich. But at what price?

Back in 2002 50 Cent made it clear with his first commercial single “Wanksta” that he wasn’t making music to make friends. In fact, his famous feud with rapper Ja Rule has spawned more headlines than his so-called musical proficiency. 50, along with Eminem and the rest of his G-Unit crew, has exchanged many a word with Ja and his Murda Inc. posse.

50 has even taken (verbal) shots at anyone associated with Ja Rule, including Jadakiss and Fat Joe, who collaborated with Ja on the track “New York, New York.” 50 disses them and rapper Nas on “Piggy Bank,” in which he raps, “That fat nigga [Fat Joe] thought ‘Lean Back’ was ‘In Da Club/My shit sold 11 mil, his shit was a dud/Jada, don’t fuck wit me if you wanna eat/Cause I’ll do your lil’ ass like Jay did Mobb Deep/Yeah homie, in new York, niggas like your vocals/But that song in New York, dawg, your ass is local.”

50’s barbs don’t end there. He immediately ousted the Game from G-Unit back in February when the West Coast rapper refused to participate in 50's beefs with other rappers ("50 Drops Game from G-Unit; Shots Fired at Radio Station"). Despite a truce, the two have been exchanging verbal lashings ever since.

50 has also taken some public jabs at rapper/producer Kanye West, claiming “[he] is successful because of me” ("50 Cent: 'I Feel Like Kanye West Is Successful Because Of Me'"). “After 50 Cent, [hip-hop fans] was looking for something non-confrontational, and they went after the first thing that came along. That was Kanye West, and his record took off.”

It seems as though 50’s bottomless bank account has made him a social critic and political pundit. When he’s not raking in the cash for his music, books, and soon, sex toys ("50 Cent Plans Sex Toy Line"), he’s berating his more talented peers and explaining why queers are too gay for hip-hop.

50 slammed actor Samuel L. Jackson for turning down a role in his biopic when he told The New York Daily News, “ I don't even see where Samuel fits into my life story anyway, unless he plays one of the crackheads. He was a crackhead originally, right? So I come from being a rapper, and he comes from being a crackhead” (“50 Cent Gets at Sam Jackson and the Billboard Critics: Rapper says he’s held to a double standard based on his rap roots”).

Correction, 50--you come from being a crack dealer. Not exactly a step above the crackheads, were you?

And when he’s not hating on other rappers and successful actors, he’s crediting himself with the success of others (e.g., Kanye West). Does Curtis Jackson really believe that I and millions of other people purchased “College Dropout” and “Late Registration” because Kanye is “less confrontational” or maybe his muscles aren’t quite so big? You’re right, 50. Why would superior musical aptitude have anything to do with it?

And who made 50 the new spokesperson for Christian evangelicalism?

“Being gay isn’t cool—it’s not what [rap] music is based on. There’s always been conflict at the center of hip-hop because it’s all about which guy has the competitive edge, and you can’t be that aggressive if you’re gay” (“50 Cent: ‘Rap Isn’t for Gays’”).

Translation: if you’re a fag, you can’t fire a gatt.

It would be too easy to typecast 50 Cent has another oversexed, egotistical, homophobic meathead who thinks with his gun and talks with his dick. But his ignorance and uneducated-ness is astounding.

Since when are boys who like boys not aggressive? What does one’s sexual preference have to do with the size of his muscles?

And how do we know 50 Cent isn’t overcompensating for his possible gayness?

“I mean, some rappers are fruity, but they don’t say they’re gay out in the open.”

Was that a confession?

2005-11-02T15:13:00.000-05:00

Bienvenido!

Why hello there. I'd like to wish my reader(s) a nice hearty welcome to my new blog. I'm fully aware that probably no one will read this, let alone be aware of this. But please allow me to introduce myself and then explain the purpose of my new blog.

My name is Shari and I'm 22 years young, though I feel old when I'm greeted as "Ma'am" (yes, this has happened on more than one occasion--apparently when you reach your twenties, a sign appears on your forehead that says, "I'm now old, feel free to greet me as such," and it's only visible to others). I'm a New Yawka, and a proud one at that. (GO YANKEES!!) I recently graduated from Binghamton University in Binghamton, NY where I majored in English Literature & Rhetoric--or more simply a knock-off of journalism. Okay, this is beginning to sound like a cover letter. Lord knows I've written more than enough of them.

Yes, journalism. Journalism is the new pink, didn't ya know? It's also the hard-to-get pink. Like the limited edition Dior bag you can only purchase if you're 1) disgustingly rich; 2) a celebrity (therefore, disgustingly rich); or 3) have no concept of financial limitation whatsoever--not rich, but not really caring much about the rent or electric bill at the moment. Whoops, tangent. Sorry.

Journalism was looking darn good for me in college. I got involved with the school newspaper (http://www.bupipedream.com if you're interested, though that interest will quickly dissipate--trust me). I was especially interested in arts & entertainment, so I wrote a lot of reviews of subpar CDs and bad movies. (Um, maybe Malibu's Most Wanted sounded good at the time, but now? Not so much.) My "big break," if you will, was scoring an interview with R&B group 112. (Remember "Peaches & Cream"? Yeah, didn't think so. We'll soon see them on a VH1 Behind the Music special, I'm sure.) Then my fortune swelled when I interviewed comedian Tommy Davidson (yeah yeah yeah, save you're "who?"'s). I think the guy has ADD. Then again, most comedians do. I later chatted up Theo and Danny from MTV's Real World (Chicago and New Orleans seasons respectively--interesting that these aired as the show began its downward spiral).

Following my success with the school paper, I got the opportunity to intern at Binghamton's local newspaper, the Press & Sun-Bulletin (http://www.pressconnects.com -- not quite The New York Times, but a good newspaper nonetheless). I worked in the Features Department where I wrote feature stories for the Lifestyle section and previews of various events for the weekly entertainment guide, Good Times. I must say that there's nothing quite like seeing your writing published in a widely read publication for the first time. Especially when it makes the front page of the Lifestyle section!

I then freelanced for the newspaper during my senior year of college. This translated to me getting paid to be published, which is always like Christmas for a college student. I did much of the same thing that I did when interning. But my biggest story was my inteview with guitarist Mike Einziger of the band Incubus. I'm not sure I had ever quivered before when conversing with someone on the phone. It was surreal. Not so much that I was talking to the guitarist of a well known band, but that this journalism thing was actually happening. I thought, Rolling Stone here I come!!

And then reality set in. "Not so fast," the Real World said. I applied for jobs and internships (even as a college graduate, I was willing to sacrifice a paycheck to get my foot in the door), all of which turned up a big fat nothing. Like I said, journalism is the new pink--a limited edition Dior handbag. Everyone wants it. Everyone is vying for the same spot. It's a competitive field.

So where does that leave me? I'm employed, fortunately. I'm an administrative assistant at United Water New York, a utility/water company. I'm the one who orders the fancy letterhead and processes the company's bills for payment. You pay your bills, we pay ours. I do a bunch of other mindless crap, such as filing, faxing, data entry, and photocopying. It's rather monotonous, but they pay me well, so I can't complain (too much).

In fact, it's so boring here that this is my downtime. I'm blogging at work. And until I get more work to do, this is where I will continue to blog.

Speaking of said blog, what is its purpose? Well, it's not going to be a personal journal or diary where I release my internal angst and emotions or reveal the details of my last sexual romp. It's merely a place for me to continue my writing. I've been writing since I was in grade school, and I've somewhat honed it as a craft. When you don't practice your craft, you begin to lose some of it. So I'll be writing about whatever grabs me at the moment--politics (yuck!), celebrity gossip (yum!), or even current social issues. I'll even post pictures to accompany my writing--copyrighted of course.

I suppose you can consider this blog as a series of columns written for a magazine or newspaper. Quite a stretch for me, eh? Feel free to leave feedback. Agree or disagree. But please refrain from getting personal. I may poke fun at individuals "out there," but I won't insult my audience (if I ever have one), unless of course you insult me first. Two wrongs may not make a right, but my wrong will certainly make me feel better.

Ciao!