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Real Housewives of Atlanta: “The Bride and the Doom” Part 1 January 31, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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Yes, children, this is going to be a two-part blog post, because Bravo decided to make this season finale 90 minutes long. I’ve got better things to do than to stay up till 11:30 watching weaved whackaloons acting a fool.

This Season: E’erbody’s fuckin’ crazy.

We start at some trendy club in Atlanta, where Lawrence, rechristened as “Miss Lawrence,” will perform his song “Closet Freak.” Kandi is happy that Miss Lawrence has taken over the technical aspects of the song. NeNe is happy that she’s excised Kim out of her life, and Kim is just happy to be in the presence of a real artist. Sheree is happy for Miss Lawrence. Everybody’s happy! Oh, wait, we haven’t gotten to Cynthia yet.
Anyway, Miss Lawrence does her thing. It’s a combination of RuPaul, Grace Jones and Janet Jackson. Miss Lawrence can sing. NeNe interviews that the award goes to Miss Lawrence. Well, thanks, NeNe. I’m sure your judgment of artistic ability will go far on Channel 4. Kandi says that she feels like she’s done birthed a baby. It’s time to make an album! Yay, Miss Lawrence. I still don’t like your ass.

All this good feeling immediately goes down the drain, as we are transported to the Impending Wedding of Doom. Supermodel, her inveigled sister Malorie and her heretofore unseen maternal unit named Barbara appear. Behind Supermodel are sheets of paper with to-do lists. Most fascinating is the to-do right under “Get marriage license” that says “Kendall Re: Pre-nup.” Well, isn’t that special? Nothing says true, enduring love like a pre-nup. Anyway, conversation immediately turns to Supermodel and Sugar Daddy’s money woes. The Greek Chorus that is Barbara and Malorie sing that Sugar Daddy ain’t worth it. Their man issues become abundantly clear when Papa, The Rolling Stone calls. Supermodel asks him for $3,000 to pay for alcohol. That rolling stone, which gathered no moss, also gathered no money.

Meanwhile, Phaedra gets ready to go back to work. She inveigles a friend to help take care of Prince Ayden the Magnificent while she rules her kingdom. She experiences her second emotion (her first was clearly lust), dabs her face and then drives off to work. Awww, how contrived and sweet.

Kandi decides to lay the smackdown on her padawan learner. Kandi tells Kim that this whole situation is bootleg. Kandi learned her lesson with “Tardy for the Party” and she will not let this jumped-up, bewigged fool do this again with “The Ring Didn’t Mean A Thing.” It will be Kandi’s way, or no way at all. If Kim keeps fucking around, Kandi will use her Force lightning and kill her wig.

Sheree shows up to an audition in her Aston-Martin—no, her Range Rover (sorry, honest mistake)…and PARKS IN A HANDICAP SPACE. Are delusions of grandeur sufficient to qualify one to park in a handicap space? Let me use Sheree’s own words: you ungrateful bitch. She walks in and is surprised to have to audition in front of a panel. The panelists, including an actress who might as well be Hey, It’s That Girl, let Sheree have it. They tell her that she is not bringing it. She doesn’t think she got the role.

NeNe, Prison Warden, is still dealing with her dumb-assed son Brice. He’s such a fucking bone-idle idiot. She gives him a list of things he needs to do. This is the NeNe I like, because she interviews that she is not her child’s friend. She’s his mom and she has to make sure he gets his fat, lazy, stupid ass in gear. Mama NeNe don’t play. When she’s sober, she’s awesome. When she’s drunk, she’s just awful.

Back at Supermodel’s, the day of the Wedding of Doom is here. Everyone’s happy, and frolicking and dancing dances of joy and light. No one says stupid shit like, “If you want to run, I’ve got a car with gas.” Oh, wait. Kithe, Jabba the Hutt’s lazy, stupid half-brother and alleged wedding planner, masticates a sausage and talks with his mouth full. The camera sees all, and it makes me sick. Supermodel and her sister freak out and cry and Supermodel has to go take a walk in the park. Her mother goes to console her dramatic ass and then we see that that whole family has nothing but drama.

NeNe and Greg have another chat. There isn’t much to say here other than that this marriage ain’t long for this world. She interviews that she knows her worth. Greg descends back into his dungeon.

Aw, damn, we’re back at the Supermodel’s. Goddamnit. Bravo’s really trying to milk this wedding that we all know already happened as though it won’t happen. Wait, Cynthia has a daughter?!? Where the fuck has she been all season? Anyway, Cynthia—ON HER WEDDING DAY—has a chat with her newly hatched daughter about how things will change once she’s gotten married. Noelle, the new daughter, has a world-weariness and wisdom in her eyes that her mother strangely does not possess.

Later, Supermodel shows up to the Fernbank Museum in a Mercedes stretch limo. And she’s wondering why she’s having money problems? Anyway, a hot papi unveils Supermodel’s ugly assed wedding dress. I’ve lost all interest in the dress, because Rubin Singer is fucking hot. Supermodel keeps talking, but I ain’t paying attention. I’m busy googling Rubin Singer.

Oh, fuck, now we’re at Kim’s house. She needs help getting up, because she redid her fucking boobs. Kim slags on NeNe. She says that her relationship with Kroy the Impregnator is serious. I suppose that carrying the spawn of a football player is serious. Kim interviews that she’s glad that girls like him, but I’m sure they’re used to liking all of Mommy’s friends. These girls are going to have serious man issues when they grow up. Kroy arrives and shows all the enthusiasm of a bear trapped in a tar pit. Yeah, this relationship will go the distance.

Sugar Daddy shows up to the wedding drunk as all hell. He wants a vodka cranberry. Hot messes show up to the wedding and remind me of why I hate Atlanta. More on that in the next post.


Guess Who’s Superman? January 30, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Comics, Movies, Observations.
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Fig. 1: This guy.

So, children. Henry Cavill has been cast as Superman for the next Superman movie, scheduled to be released in 2012. Just in time for the end of the world! Already, Internet people are screaming that Tom Welling should have been cast as Superman, since he’s doing a bang-up job of playing a fucked-up version of Clark Kent on the terminally stupid “Smallville.” Other Internet people are grumbling that Brandon Routh should have gotten another go-round—after all, they reason, it wasn’t his fault that “Superman Returns” was as exciting as an Ambien with a Lunesta chaser!

Fig. 2: Bryan Singer: So, Brandon, give me your best Chris Reeve imitation–only make him moodier with a touch of stalker. Kevin, can you do a good Gene Hackman? Great. Oh, you want a script? Just watch “Superman: The Movie.” I’ll be back after I score some Aussie ass.

So, yeah. No Brandon Routh as Superman. Kind of a bummer, as I thought he was quite good—he wouldn’t win any Oscars, but since when has anyone won an Oscar for playing a superhero? Never, that’s when. I do happen to be one of those Internet people who wanted Routh to reprise the Clark Kent/Superman role. But I also wanted the next movie to completely ignore one nagging, irritating plot complication that Singer inexplicably wrote into “Superman Returns”:

Fig. 3: Um, Lois has a kid? By Superman? Whuck?

Frankly, I’m going to reserve judgment regarding this casting until two things happen:
a) Cavill gets in the gym and puts on some muscle. I’ve seen a couple of pictures of the guy and yes, he’s handsome. Facially, he’s (almost) a perfect choice to play the Man of Steel. However, he needs to bulk up a little. It shouldn’t be a problem—Reeve had to do the same thing.
b) We see Cavill in the Superman suit. That probably won’t happen for a year or so. In the meantime, I hope that they do not fuck with the uniform and turn it into another boring near-travesty.

In the meantime, I’m also hoping that they cast a grown woman to play Lois Lane, have Superman doing stuff that’s, y’know, SUPER, and do not abandon John Williams’s iconic score. There are some things you just don’t fuck with.

Real Housewives of Atlanta: “Floridon’t” January 24, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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Seriously. What the frell is up with these episode titles?

Last Time: Sugar Daddy closed down, NeNe melted down, and Supermodel shutdown. Down’s the word, yo!

Picking up where we left off, NeNe is acting a fucking fool and has to be pulled off of Kim. NeNe interviews that she’s a grown-ass woman, and Kandi interviews that all this childish foolishness is pissing on her bus tour. Meanwhile, in Miami, the bus pulls into the mansion. Sheree interviews that they’re staying at the mansion of a friend of Kim’s. The editing is totally off here, because at one point the argument was happening in transit, but we’re supposed to think that Kim and NeNe are still arguing when the bus pulls into the mansion. Anyway, Kim interviews that she’s happy to see Sheree’s face instead of NeNe’s ugly mug. Speaking of, can someone show NeNe footage of her going off? When she’s going batshit crazy, from her profile she kinda looks like a braying donkey. Kim and NeNe get off the bus and immediately try to drag the Frog, Sheree and Supermodel into their mess. That’s exactly what immature idiots tend to do. The Frog interviews that she doesn’t know who to believe. Supermodel: “What happened to my relaxing weekend?” Honey, you’re on a reality show on Bravo. Did you honestly think you’d have a relaxing weekend?

Anyway, Kim and NeNe start jawing at each other. Sheree is astounded at the hate being thrown around. “What happened on that bus?!?” Don Juan asks, “What in the hay-ell?” This is all utterly ridiculous and is nothing more than a bunch of bullshit. NeNe keeps intimating that Kim is a child and NeNe is an adult. Kim: “I’m going to pretend that this nightmare isn’t happening.” She interviews that Thomas Kramer is rich and powerful. Thomas tells them that they can either fight or they can enjoy Florida.

Outside, Kandi is trying to give Phaedra and Sheree the lowdown. Inside, NeNe is still braying at Kim and Supermodel has to pull her away from Kim again. Outside, Kandi is continuing the tale of woe. Sheree doesn’t understand how they’re all going to be together this weekend. Kandi suggests they check out the hacienda. It’s hideously decorated. Phaedra invokes some more stupid religious nonsense about “holy oil” in reaction to the ugly décor. She interviews that it’s “eccentric” and asks if he’s into taxidermy. No, he’s just into ugly. Kim says he’s good looking. Um, no. Sheree thinks that he might be Big Poppa 2.0. Thomas tells the women of all the celebs who live in the vicinity.

When we come back from commercial, Kim is talking to Sweeting. Sweeting says that she and Kim talk shit to each other. They are birds of a smoky, cancer-causing feather. NeNe is jawing with Kandi and the other women. Kandi interviews that she doesn’t like the way Kim treats her assistant. Well, Kandi, Sweeting’s a grown ass woman. The “slave” comment comes up and these idiots think they’re a chapter of The National Congress of Black Women standing up for Sweetie, with NeNe leading the charge. Kandi interviews that you can never know the status of Kim and NeNe’s relationship. Kandi says that there are certain things you can’t say to black women—and the other women co-sign as though this is some damn “We Shall Overcome” 1960s radical revelation. What are these things, Kandi? Kim called NeNe a bitch—as far as I can tell, that’s not race-specific, nor did Kim put “black” in front of it. Mind you, NeNe is calling Kim everything but a child of God, so what’s up with that, Kandi? Out on the back porch, Kim is saying that she’s embarrassed to have invited NeNe. She interviews that their friendship is over. Back in the Black Women Bashing Kim Club, NeNe passive aggressives that she’d rather be in a hotel. Bye, bitch! Nah, the women say that no one’s leaving. Supermodel says it’s agreed.

Rich Thomas comes to check on Kim and Sweeting and says that after meeting NeNe, two minutes was enough. Kim says that Rich Thomas looks fantastic and so not subtly tries to get him in her bed. Honey, do you not have a Garmin gaydar? ‘Cause mine is telling me that Rich Thomas is gayer than Ricky Martin in a pink thong doing poppers at Carnivale.

A Dinner of Doom: NeNe says she wants a glass of wine. Phaedra looks up at the ceiling, which is as tacky as the rest of the damn house. NeNe interviews that it’s tense and would rather be somewhere else in Miami. Food is served and talk turns to the Supermodel’s impending nuptials. Supermodel interviews that she came to get away from her problems. Honey, when you think of a wedding as a problem, that’s a sign that you probably shouldn’t be getting married. Sheree interviews that you can clearly see that she’s not happy. Supermodel interviews that she’s doing a runway show…and she’s not happy about that, either. What in the hell makes this woman happy?

In walks Lawrence. Sheree is happy, but NeNe sucks her teeth. She is not happy that he is there, but Sheree interviews that she’s happy he’s there. Phaedra is not happy he’s there. His penis and testicles annoy her. Commercials!

Back at the Hacienda of Hate, it is the next morning. Kim and Kandi have a show to do, and Supermodel has her runway show to do. NeNe has called her friend Diana to come down. It’s gon’ be a full house, y’all! Kim goes to visit Rich Thomas as he’s lounging by the pool. She’s wearing an ugly yellow thing and is trying to seduce Rich Thomas. Did I mention he’s in a pair of swim shorts, which means he’s shirtless? I’m going to need to wash that image out of my brain. Thank Al Gore for the Internet.

Kim interviews that she needs to focus on her “performance” so she can show NeNe that she can do…whatever it is she does. She has an incentive to end with a bang. Maybe she’ll have fireworks come out of her breasts. Kim’s only got time to do one song, so she’ll do “Tardy for the Party.” Go with the oldies! Anyway, she gets up to do the autotuned song, and NeNe interview-hates on Kim: “Watching Kim perform is just hilarious to me.” Yeah, NeNe, we get it. She can’t really sing. What the hell can you do? Sheree interviews that Kim had the crowd going. Phaedra: “I was pleasantly surprised.” Honey, I don’t think it would take much for that to happen. Kandi shows up and says that it’s important for this stop to go well. She does “Fly Above.” Kim interviews that Kandi wrote that song about her. Really? Um, okay. NeNe harshes on Kim some more when she interviews that Kim is the drama. Kim and Don Juan Vader reconcile. It’s a kumbaya moment! Kandi says that overall, the tour was a good tour and she compliments Kim. On the flip side, she interviews that she’s so glad it’s over.

Lunchtime at the Hacienda of Hate: Froggy Phaedra says that back home, Prince Ayden the First is doing well. Diana magically appears, and she has a nickname, apparently. Kim interviews that Diana is “the Hulk.” Sheree interviews that she thinks that NeNe invited Diana to antagonize Kim. Kim says that she was going to send Sweeting home to appease NeNe, but since Diana the Hulk is here, Sweeting gets to stay. Phaedra interviews that NeNe has lost sight of why they’re there. Diana the Hulk interjects that she doesn’t want her name to be dragged into this. Then shut the fuck up, Hulk! NeNe says that she doesn’t want to stay in the house—and then she insults the house. Kim rightly calls her out for insulting the house in which she’s staying. Sheree interviews that NeNe is showing her true colors. She is, and they’re LOUD.

Interstitialization, online! Sheree interviews that exercise might make people happy. Kim doesn’t want to work out because she’s on her period. Okay, then.

Supermodel shows up for her modeling job. She interviews that she’s not the youngest model and says to the guy doing her makeup that she’s intimidated. She asks that he perform some miracles on those dark circles under her eyes. A.Z. Araujo, the swimwear designer comes out and shows her some stuff. Apparently, it’s his show. NeNe interviews that she’s there for Supermodel, who’s a real friend, “unlike the rest of these bitches.” Anyway, swimwear! Hot guys show their stuff and eventually Supermodel does her thing. Her ass is ginormous. Sheree interviews that she wouldn’t have worked for her line…her what? Sheree, your “line” still don’t have no clothes! Shut up and let’s get back to ogling hot men in speedos.

Afterwards, Supermodel is congratulated by all the jealous heifers. At some eating event, Phaedra asks if they all want to stay another day. Supermodel immediately says, “NO!” Anyway, she begins to field questions from the women…and she breaks down. Kandi’s facial expressions are priceless. She’s like, “Oh, damn, I didn’t mean to set all this off!”

Phaedra interviews that she thinks that the happy couple ain’t so happy. That Phaedra is a master of interpreting human behavior. Why doesn’t she have her own show like Dr. Phil? In the bathroom, NeNe suggests that she and Supermodel leave the Hacienda of Hate. Back at the table, Kandi says that if finances aren’t in order, the whole relationship will probably fall apart. She is speaking sense. And so is Sheree. Whodathunkit? Phaedra tries to offer some homespun wisdom…shut up, Frog. Supermodel returns to the table. They all try to console Supermodel, and she reveals that Uptown has gone kaput. The women all say that she doesn’t need to have a wedding for them. Please. Supermodel knows that in fake-ass Atlanta, if you claim to have status and then do a podunk wedding, botoxed and beweaved heifers from Marietta to Clayton county will talk about your ass from now until the Second Coming. Then NeNe drops the bomb that they’re changing the tickets to go home. Phaedra interviews that Supermodel follows NeNe like a puppy dog. Sheree interviews the following: “I’m thinking, you ungrateful bitch. Everybody flew their ass up here to support you. Get over it. Get from under NeNe’s ass and woman up! Seriously!” Damn, Sheree! Just…damn.

The rest of the women have to process this new development. They got strippers! And Phaedra wants to enjoy the strippers! Kandi and Kim are on board with staying and watching the strippers. As am I. Meanwhile, NeNe, Diana the Hulk and Supermodel convene to figure out how to passive aggressively give the rest of the women the middle finger. Sheree shows up to ask what the hell is going on. Sheree says that they all came down there for Supermodel. Sheree interviews that NeNe likes to dominate her friends. Sheree tries to talk some enjoyment and sense into Supermodel’s head. Supermodel decides to stay. But later that evening, she still has all the energy of a wet noodle. This is the worst bachelorette party EVER.

Kim interviews that she’s happy that Supermodel stayed. Then Lawrence does “impressions.” Could he do an impression of smoke and blow away? Supermodel asks a sex question, but she does it in the most juvenile way possible. Lawrence cuts to the chase: “Do you give head?” I have to give him props for cutting through the delicate genius’s bullshit. Sometimes being a potentially messy queen has its benefits.

Okay, let’s get to it: STRIPPERS! Phaedra interviews that she represents male strippers. Roided out guys come out—they’re a lot better looking than the one who was on Kandi’s radio show. The show seems like it was about only thirty minutes long, because we got about three scenes with the strippers and then they were gone. Well, all righty then.

Skippy Goes To The Movies!: “Black Swan” January 23, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Movies, Popular Culture.
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Verdict: Holy fuck, what the hell was that?

I had seen the commercials for this critically-acclaimed movie and had heard that pretty much everyone who has seen this movie raves about it, and decided that I’d probably find this movie to be quite good.

While I found it to be…well, good (I guess), but I swear, I don’t know what the fuck I was watching.

The plot—inasmuch as I can retell it—is this: Nina (Natalie Portman) is a ballet dancer for a company that is apparently in its death throes. The director of the ballet (whose name I forget) has come up with an idea to do a different take on “Swan Lake” (having never seen “Swan Lake,” I cannot understand how his take is “different,” but apparently that really is neither here nor there). Nina wants the lead as the Swan Queen, but is rather mousey. According to the ballet director, she’d make a great White Swan, but not a Black Swan—apparently, she doesn’t have the heat.

Fig. 2: How about Nomi? Nomi’s got heat!

Complicating matters is Nina’s overbearing maternal unit, who also used to be a ballerina (of only middling success). Played by Barbara Hershey, Nina’s mother might as well be called smother, because Spock almighty, is she up Nina’s ass all. the. time. When Nina comes home with the good news that she has gotten the coveted role of the Swan Queen, her mother brings home a cake (vanilla with strawberry filling, if you were wondering) and, after Nina says she doesn’t want any, threatens to throw the whole damn thing in the trash. Holy overreaction, Batman!

Anyway, enter Mila Kunis as Lily. She’s the complete opposite of Nina. Whereas Nina’s frigid and aloof, Lily is warm and down to earth…well, as down to earth as a cigarette-alcohol-and drug habit can make you. Suffice it to say that she’s a breath of fresh air in what feels like an extremely claustrophobic movie. She draws Nina out of her shell…so much so that Nina has a masturbatory fantasy about her. And let me tell you children, that scene was one of the most disturbing scenes I’ve ever seen in a movie. Let’s put it this way—if you ever decide to pleasure yourself, just make sure your mother isn’t in the room.

So, as we descend into Nina’s crazytown, we see that she’s convinced that Lily covets her newfound lead role, which leads Nina to go even more crazy. And by the end of the movie, her crazy culminates in an imagined murder and a real suicide.

This movie confused me. It was very well-written, it had top-notch acting. The cinematography and art direction was virtually perfect. I could feel Nina’s cramped and isolated world. I could feel the decay around everyone—this ballet company seemed to be limping along, and every scene reinforced that feeling. That said, I walked away thinking, “What the hell did I just see, and why was this movie made?” What was it supposed to say? Was there something I was supposed to have taken away from this movie—and if there was, what the hell was it? How was I to be entertained by this? While I hate obvious Oscar-bait movies like “The Fighter,” I at least know that this movie has got “Inspirational Oscar Bait And Last Chance For Mark Wahlberg To Be Taken Seriously As An Actor” written all over it. This? This movie felt like a movie that was a bit too clever and mind-fuckish for its own good.

News You Can Use: Rick Santorum Continues To Be A Flipping Idiot January 20, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Observations, Politics, Racism.
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So, former US Senator and super-crusader against Teh Gayz Rick Santorum goes on some crackhead news program (I’m assuming that’s what CNS stands for) to express his utter disbelief that President Obama didn’t enthusiastically affirm that a fetus is a person and should be allowed to carry a gun, vote for Sarah Palin, and watch “Dancing with the Stars.” Well, that’s not really a shocker. No, what’s gotten “newsworthy” is this:

And Barack Obama says no. Well if that human life is not a person then I find it almost remarkable for a black man to say ‘now we are going to decide who are people and who are not people.’

Really, Rick? Really? I know that you’re trying to invoke some sort of retarded reading of history and say that Obama’s refusal to acquiesce to a stupid line of thinking is just like white folks (probably like your ancestors, Rick) who said that black folks weren’t people, but seriously? You didn’t think it was the height of white privilege to try to make some sort of half-witted racial analogy? Of course you didn’t think that, Rick. You’re too blinded by your Obama Derangement Syndrome to make logical arguments.

This Must Be A Sign of the Apocalypse January 19, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Gay and Lesbian Issues, Observations, Popular Culture.
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Logo’s The A-List is coming back for a second season.

Fig. 1: A famewhore’s gotta eat…and shop and get highlights and spray tans and wear Prada…

Let’s be real; this should come as a surprise to absolutely no one. Perhaps this is the culmination of the gay rights movement—the ability to be as vacuous and self-indulgent as the dominant culture without one whit of self-awareness or logic.

Real Housewives of Atlanta: “Flamingo Road Block” January 18, 2011

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Seriously, y’all, I have no idea what’s up with these episode titles.

Last Time: Kandi wants Riley’s dad to be in Riley’s life, Kim’s kids want her to stay home, NeNe wants Jermaine Dupri to talk, Kim wants to be a diva, and Cynthia wants a man who doesn’t have tons of issues. You don’t always get what you want.

The Bus Tour from Hell, Day 2: Kim’s assistant Sweetie’s phone alarm is set to “Tardy for the Party.” Nice. Anyway, Kim gets…annoyed? She starts slapping her “wig stylist.” She also orders the bus to stop for her cigarette break, pissing off Don Vader. Sweetie annoys Kandi, who informs her that she is NOT a morning person. They stop outside West Columbia. Kandi interviews that Kim and Sweetie are getting on her nerves. Kim takes her B12 shot to the hilarious dismay of Don Vader. Kim calls NeNe in order to ask her to come to Orlando, thus setting up the drama for this episode.

Back in Atlanta, NeNe’s segment with Jermaine Dupri airs. NeNe says she had to “make magic happen.” Sweetie finds the interview online…and NeNe’s crack about Kim breaking into the music business. FORESHADOWING! Kim interviews that she’s not happy about this. NeNe says her piece came out great, Kim is pissed, but Don Vader doesn’t think it was too negative. I wouldn’t take his word for it, Kim.

The Frog has the Supermodel and Sheree over…and immediately name checks Supermodel’s Hermes bag. I hate this frog. She says again that she’s Martha Stewart. The Frog tells the two that she’s overwhelmed and is ready for this Orlando trip. The Supermodel wants to hold Ayden…who promptly spits up on her. “He’s not even a throw-up baby!” the Frog exclaims. Shut up, Phaedra.

Back on the Bus Tour from Hell, they stop in Georgia at some BBQ place in the middle of west hell. We find out that Kim doesn’t eat meat. Just cigarettes, wine, and silicone. While everyone else clogs an artery, Derrick the Wig Assistant prances around in high heels and Kim sits on her ass. Have y’all noticed that any gay guy we see on these shows is a walking, prancing stereotype? Drama gets set up when someone (I can’t tell if it’s Derrick or Don Vader) comments that Kim looks like a slave master sitting on a veranda. I’m not touching that. Seriously. And then Kandi grouses about smelling cigarette smoke, to which Sweetie bitches, “Are you serious? We’re outside.” Then she tells Kandi to “walk away.” This Sweetie is nothing of the kind.

The Supermodel comes home to Sugar Daddy and tells him about the wedding gown fitting. She interviews that she still wants the perfect wedding, even though the Uptown Supper Club is going south. How far south? Sugar Daddy informs her that he’s officially closed the Uptown Supper Club. She interviews, “How am I ever gonna get paid back now?” Short answer: You’re not. They discuss how the money for the wedding was going to pay for the wedding…not anymore! They’re about 20,000 dollars short. Bravo to the rescue! Oh, wait. You’re not supposed to know that. Anyway, they bitch, moan, and argue about the wedding, but not the real problems underlying their relationship. Sugar Daddy yells at Supermodel, and Supermodel cries…and hints at wanting to call the whole thing off. Both of these people are passive aggressive and awful for each other. Sugar Daddy is emotionally walled-off, and Supermodel is too needy. He says he’s not going to tell her anything ever again, and that there’s “no crying.” Sure, that’ll stop her emotional rollercoaster.

The Bus Tour from Hell, Day 2, continued. Kim wants Derrick to curl her wig. Kandi wants to kill Kim and Sweetie. She interviews that the check “must be good” in order to deal with Kim. Speaking of, her youngest daughter calls and promptly cries over the phone. These kids are going to be in therapy for years. Years, I tell you. Kim also cries…as she’s going to sleep in her wig. What the damn?

The Bus Tour from Hell, Day 3. The tour is scheduled to make a stop at a salon, and Kim tries to get at Don Vader. He is not feeling her attempts to bait him, nor is Kandi. Kim wants to go outside and smoke. Their hatred for each other takes the form of racist bullshit. Derrick comments that Kim’s going outside barefoot is something “white people do” and that Sweetie hangs around white people too much. Kim gingerly steps out of the bus and asks, “Is this a safe area?” Kandi says that Sweetie’s attitude sucks. Sweetie goes and tattles on Derrick. Kandi goes off on Sweetie. Kandi handles Sweetie—and then goes into the salon and is a consummate professional.

Back in Atlanta, NeNe, Supermodel and Malorie the Lesser Sister go out to lunch. Supermodel informs NeNe that the Uptown Supper Club is no more. All of the women have horrible makeup on. NeNe asks Malorie what she thinks—she thinks they need to cancel postpone the wedding. NeNe says marriages break up because of stuff like this. Supermodel interviews that since Uptown went downtown, Sugar Daddy’s been a nightmare to be around. She’s whiny—she says she wanted to get married at Fernbank! Well, hell, I want a 2011 Acura RL. Malorie the Lesser says she’ll support her sister who pays her bills in whatever she does. Surprise, surprise.

Interstitial! Sheree shows up and does something about sending her kids off to their dad’s. The Aston Martin does not make an appearance. Her kids won’t miss her (or the car).

The Frog and the Hot Piece of Ass make breakfast. They talk about Ayden and whether or not he’s sleeping through the night. The HPoA has a breast fixation, because he really won’t shut up about what he could do if he had breasts. They discuss the division of household duties. The Frog thinks that a penis inhibits higher brain function and whines about the HPoA’s ability to do whatever he wants…but then criticizes him when he holds Ayden. She tells him that she’s been invited to go to Orlando, which makes him really happy. Hint, hint, Phaedra! She calls Pastor Regina and asks her to come up and oversee the HPoA’s baby care.

The Bus Tour from Hell, Day 3 rolls into Orlando and a hotel. Kandi interviews that she’ll be so happy to have her own space. Kim is on the phone with Kroy the Impregnator, or, “her boo.” She interviews that she’s “fallen for him.” And his paycheck too, I betcha betcha. Anyway, Derrick the Wig Stylist comes over and they get into it about his comments about white and black folk. He is clearly a master of race relations.

NeNe shows up. Let the drama begin! They start by drinking Moscato. I hate that shit. White wine—and especially cheap-as-hell white wine—sucks all kinds of ass. Anyway, Kim tries to warm up, which leads NeNe to interview, “Lord have mercy; Kim thinks she is a real pop star.” NeNe is such a great friend. She tells Kim that it doesn’t seem like she’s having much fun.

Back on the bus, NeNe tells Kim to gyrate. She interviews that Kim basically “can’t sing” and needs whatever “last minute help I can give her.” Kandi asks, “Why does this feel like the Kim and NeNe show?” I don’t know. Ask the producers. Anyway, they all show up at a club in a strip mall. NeNe calls Kim’s performance “high school.” Ouch. Kandi shows up and does her thang. NeNe interviews that Kandi is clearly a vocalist. After the show, NeNe begins to show her ass. She is clearly drunk off her ass…and she is NOT a happy drunk.

After commercial, we’re now on Day 4 of the Bus Tour from Hell. Kandi interviews that Riley’s dad is trying to establish a relationship with his child. Riley, who is only 7, is a lot more mature than either of Kim’s kids. NeNe shows up on the bus and begins misrepresenting shit. Instigator. Kim and Sweetie show up and the bus gets underway. Here go hell come!

Kim tells her friend “Thomas” who has an “estate” that Don Vader and Sweetie will need rooms—NeNe straight up interrupts and says that this is a trip for just the girls, not the assistants. NeNe goes straight for the jugular and says that if Kandi hadn’t helped her, she wouldn’t have a beat. She also goes off about how Kim treats Sweetie. She’s a fucking regular Harriet Tubman, that NeNe. Kandi watches this and thinks both of these women are pitiful. Frankly, both NeNe and Kim have ridiculously overinflated senses of competence. Suffice it to say that the last fifteen minutes of the show are full of NeNe and Kim screeching at each other. It’s as ugly as one might expect. The other three women don’t know what they’re driving into. NeNe says a stupid prayer: “Please forgive me Lord for having to be on this bus having to be around people who are trash—“
Don Vader: “NeNe, is this a real prayer?”
I’m gonna go with no, Don.

Oh, Frabulous Joy! January 11, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Technology.
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Fig. 1: HOSANNA!

Children, as I sit in my house, snowbound for a second day, I am fairly bursting with joy at the announcement that, at long last, Verizon will get the iPhone. Rumors of such a blessed event have been going around for quite a while now, but both Verizon and Apple had been very tight-lipped. And then, Verizon got the iPad, which all but sealed the deal. It wasn’t a question of if Verizon would get the iPhone, but when. And the when is February, 2011. Of course, that doesn’t mean things are perfect.

Pro: The Verizon iPhone 4 can act as a Wi-Fi hotspot. Awesome!
Con: You can’t surf the web and talk at the same time. WTF? That almost defeats the purpose of even getting an iPhone.

Also, this is the iPhone 4. And scuttlebutt is that Apple will likely release the iPhone 5 this coming summer, so if you jump ship and get an iPhone 4, you’ll be locked into a two-year contract with a soon-to-be obsolete phone. Plus, there’s that whole you can’t surf the web and talk at the same time.

Seriously. WTF?

Anyway, I’m delighted that Verizon has gotten the iPhone. I hope that this leads to a mass exodus from AT&T (aka: The Devil), because I hate AT&T. Here’s why:

Way back in 1999, I got my first cell phone with Cingular during my first year in graduate school at Vanderbilt. It was a basic plan, nothing fancy. The phone was a brick that could kill if hurled accurately. A few years later, a friend of mine who worked at Cingular helped get me a less brick-ish phone. Cingular was, at the time, a reliable phone company, and my phone plan was reasonable—450 anytime minutes with rollover. And I always had rollover minutes. Then, AT&T bought Cingular, which didn’t really bother me, since I was able to keep my plan. In the meantime, I moved. First, I moved to Knoxville, and then Western Massachusetts. No problems with the phone or service. By this point, I’m no longer on a two-year contract. AT&T tried to get me to sign to a new two-year contract, but I would always tear up the stupid little deceptive ad they’d send and go on my merry, contract-less way.

Then, I moved to Central Michigan. All was well, until I got a cryptic voice mail from AT&T about terminating my service.

Fig. 2: This is an accurate approximation of my mental state at the time.

Befuddled and confused, I called AT&T to inquire. Surely, this had to be a mistake, I thought. I paid my bill on time every time—hell, it was an automatic debit! Why would they terminate my service? As I inquired, the customer “service” rep told me that, because I had moved to an area that did not have AT&T cell towers, I was “in violation” of their terms of service. Really? Now, I realize that the coverage map now probably doesn’t reflect what the cell coverage was in 2007, but the map now shows that AT&T covers Michigan and I’m pretty sure that the map said the same damn thing in ’07. I asked the idiot how I was in violation of their terms of service. The idiot told me that since AT&T didn’t have towers in the area, the calls I made were being carried by other carriers, which was costing AT&T money, even though I was paying AT&T approximately $60 a month for the (apparently, non-existent) service. And how the fuck was that my problem? You claim that you have coverage in this area, but yet, you don’t. Sounds like a problem that isn’t mine, AT&T. Anyway, I asked if there was anything I could do to keep from getting my phone turned off. The fucking idiot said, “No.” I told that idiot, “Well, I’m switching to Verizon and you’ll never have to worry about me as a customer ever again.” I promptly drove over to Midland, and signed up for Verizon and never looked back.

Since that day, I have devoted my life to telling every and anyone who will listen that AT&T fucking sucks. Among other vile, bloodsucking corporations, AT&T is one of the worst. The day AT&T collapses in on itself, I shall laugh with unabashed glee. I hope that Verizon getting the iPhone is the beginning of that implosion.

Real Housewives of Atlanta: “Tour-Toure” January 11, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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I have no idea what the title of this week’s episode is supposed to mean.

Last Time: Kim is trying to get it together, NeNe might have it together, and Phaedra thinks she’s got it together. Together, they’re all a hot damn mess.

We start with The Frog and the Hot Piece of Ass. She’s putting together a “Sip & See”—some stupid thing where people go drink and look at a baby. The Frog claims that it’s a “Southern tradition”…that she just pulled straight out her ass. She interviews that she’s a Martha Stewart. She wants everyone to be grown up at her sip and see. Frog, heal thyself. She continues to interview that she and HPoA attract a lot of attention because they’re a hot couple. BWHA. HPoA says that he isn’t a car thief—technically,he’s correct. The Frog interviews some stupid church rhetoric. All the while, the Frog has on some spanx. That right there makes me want to slap the makeup off her face.

Supermodel has a staged dinner with Sugar Daddy. She asks him how the day went, as though she cares. She interviews that she and Sugar Daddy own a restaurant and that it’s in trouble. Sugar Daddy complains about Atlantans and says that they’re fake. Supermodel says that they need a Plan B, C, and D. She’s worried about the wedding. Sugar Daddy says there aint much sugar left in the restaurant. She wants him to sell Uptown. Argument ensues. Supermodel says that Sugar Daddy is turning into a bitter old man. Mmm hm!

Anyway, the stupid “Sip & See” happens. The Frog has valet parking. At her fucking sip and see which she has at her fucking house which is a McMansion in a subdivision of other McMansions. Where the fuck are they “valet” parking those damn cars? Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? Dwight introduces the Frog, the Tadpole and the HPoA as a royal family. Goddamn, I hate fake fucking fools, and these are the fakest fuckingest fools. Sheree says that she thinks the Frog made up a sip and see—I believe her. Kim shows up, and interviews that she doesn’t even know why she’s going to this fake foolishness. The Frog interviews that Kim’s like Jessica Rabbit gone bad. I don’t think I can take this shit much longer.

After commercial, the Frog says she needs to have a moment with Kim. They have a grown up conversation…well, Kim does, anyway. Kim shows the stupid Frog her paperwork that says she’s a nurse. The Frog has to eat her words. She says she’s not judgmental. She continues to bullshit about the HPoA and his past and then says she hopes the “twofacedness” stops—bitch, quit lying.

Anyway, NeNe goes to work. Her segment is “Keeping It Real with NeNe.” She does some ambush makeover (but not for herself, sadly). She goes through some tags…she’s not really that, um, good. But whatevs.

Kim yells for her assistant. WHY DOES SHE HAVE AN ASSISTANT? She has her “assistant” give her a B12 shot. This is ridiculous. Her kids come in. The Virginator complains, but the one with the burgeoning body issues doesn’t seem to care. Anyway, the Virginator finds out that her mom’s going to be gone for a week. She breaks down like her mom just told her that Santa wasn’t real and she wasn’t goinig to get presents for Christmas. What the damn? Kim THs that her kids and her “music” are her two passions. It’s such a passion, that she never bothered to learn how to sing OR quit smoking in order to preserve her voice. Some passion.

Kandi is on the radio in Charlotte. Charlotte is the first stop on Kandi’s tour. The DJ asks Kim some shit about some shit. I don’t care. Kandi says her album will be called “Fly Above.’ The label says she must do a promo tour (performances at smaller venues to see if people will actually buy the shit). Don Juan tour manager is a take-charge guy. Kinda like the Darth Vader to Kandi’s Emperor Palpatine. And Don Vader doesn’t give a flying shit about Kim. Kim THs that it’s like being in the military. Working is such a bitch, isn’t it, Kim? Kandi is irritated that Kim is already complaining. Kim begins whining about smoking, because there is no smoking on the tour bus. Don Vader really can’t stand the fuck out of Kim. The tour bus is kinda hot, but Kim ain’t feeling it. Kim whines that it’s like a Motel 6. Kandi tells Don Vader that she realizes that he and Kim will break out the lightsabers. Danny the bus driver also hates Kim.

NeNe shows up at Jermaine Dupri’s studio. She brings Brentt along—not a good idea, I’d say. NeNe interviews that he is tiny and that the publicist has requested no questions about Janet Jackson. I guess he got tired of the “Why the hell is she dating you??” question. He starts throwing shade and acting a tiny bitch. She asks him a question or two…and he does nothing but give her one word answers. Soon, he begins to talk, and I’m even less interested. She interviews that once the midget realized that she was cool, he opened up. I guess he grew an inch that day.

Interstitial! The Frog and Sheree are walking. The Frog says that Sheree’s body is banging and that after the Tadpole, her ass did something funny.

The Tour from Hell continues. It ends up at some hellhole bar. I do not know what is going on here, but Kandi did get a slam in on Kim: “a monkey with a wig on.” OUCH! Don Vader opens up a can of nonsense about the Ring song and Kim’s “situation” with Big Poppa. Kim says that Big Poppa never cheated on her, which Kandi rightly calls out as utter bullshit. Kandi is really not happy that this beweaved nurse is on her tour.

Hill Harper, desperate for some attention, shows up to “counsel” the Supermodel and Sugar Daddy. Be prepared for utter bullshit to flow. Harper not so succinctly NAME DROPS HIS DAMN BOOK. He then gives them COPIES OF HIS BOOK. Holy mother of Spock.

Okay, children, Rant Time. Hill Harper has jumped on the idiot bandwagon occupied by people like Steve Harvey and Tavis Smiley. He used to be a middling actor with pretty good looks. Now, he’s a good-looking moron who fancies himself a relationship therapist (minus the degree, of course). Oh, and he wrote a book that apparently enjoyed some modicum of success amongst deluded African Americans who need another deluded moron to fill their minds with meaningless feel-good twaddle. And, like any other attention whore, he will show up on a show like this to try to peddle his feel-good twaddle and hope that there are enough morons watching the show who would be fool enough to go on Amazon.com and buy his “book.” From henceforth, I call him Shill Harper.

Anyway, Supermodel says she invested a lot of money into Uptown and she wants Sugar Daddy to recognize! Sugar Daddy says that he really doesn’t want to hear any of that. Shill Harper says some dumb shit, which leads to Supermodel and Sugar Daddy straight up arguing. Shill tries to mediate, but they ain’t hearing him. He looks like a mildly interested beagle. He then says that they communicate differently. REALLY, Shill? Really? Wow, he’s really fucking smart, isn’t he! When asked to say what they love about each other, he immediately talks about her physical features. Supermodel says they need another session. Or fifty.

Kandi meets up with her aunts before the show. They want to see the bus. Kroy the Impregnator sent Kim some Dom and roses. Aww, how nice. That ain’t gonna count as child support. Anyway, Kandi says that before a performance, she likes some quiet, but Kim and her “stylist” are anything but. Kandi interviews that Kim need not be chain smoking and that this crowd is not like the crowd at the White Party. In other words, black folk don’t play a heffa who can’t sing…sometimes. Kim interviews that she will make these non-gay people love her. She’s like Effie…minus the talent.

She begins to autotune. The crowd doesn’t really care. It must’ve been a cheap drink night. Anyway, Kim thanks Kandi, who comes out and bangs out a song a capella. Eh. She ain’t no Anita Baker. She then sings “I Just Know.” Next up, Orlando. On the bus, Kim and her assistant cut up. Kandi and Don Vader tell them to shut up. Indeed.

Some Thoughts on “The Cape” January 10, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Comics, Popular Culture, Television.
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Last night, NBC aired the premiere of a new superhero-based show called “The Cape.” It was a two-hour affair (really, it was two back-to-back episodes, but whatevs) that had been promoted for weeks. Unfortunately, NBCs track record with genre television has been somewhat spotty of late.

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

After the descent into full-on suckitude that was “Heroes” and the never-got-started boringness that was “The Event,” one might think that NBC should just give up on sci-fi television altogether. Both “Heroes” and “The Event” had great premises and failed to capitalize on those premises—though “Heroes” didn’t stink out the gate. “The Event” did, however. So anyway, NBC tries to jump into genre tv again, this time with a superhero show based on one character and no long-term mysteries.

Fig. 1: If at first or second you don’t succeed…

The plot of “The Cape” is fairly simple (and derivative, but I’ll get to that in a minute): Really Good Guy gets screwed over by Corrupt System, loses everything (including ridiculously hot wife and kinda simple son) and decides to Fight For Justice. Of course, because it’s serialized television, that fight will be never ending (until cancellation, that is).

Really Good Guy Vince Faraday (David Lyons) is a cop for the…what the hell’s the name of his made-up city? Oh, yeah: Palm City. He’s a cop in the Palm City police force, where corruption is second only to Gotham City. Seriously. Five minutes into the show, and Faraday’s soon-to-be dead friend is on some blog called “Orwell” (oy, vey) where she finds out that these two seedy-as-hell looking cops are corrupt. Frankly, they looked like they belonged on a sex offender list instead of being cops (but then how could we the stupid audience know they were corrupt?). Anyway, blah blah blah, she’s dead and soon the police chief is dead, victim of some chemical explosive called L-9 that had been deployed by some criminal named “Chess.” Well, folks, the villain Chess is really (SPOILER ALERT!) billionaire Peter Fleming (James Frain), who owns a corporation called Ark. Fleming is trying to privatize the city’s police department.

Wha-what? Oh, okay. A corrupt billionaire who owns a corporation is trying to control the city. Where have I seen this before?

Fig. 2: Lex Luthor called. He’d like his character back.

Anyway, for reasons I can’t remember, Chess sets Faraday up to take the fall for the murder of the police chief. Faraday goes into hiding and is discovered by a…roving circus gang of bank robbers? Yeah…ok, so, that. Anyway, they inveigle him into helping them rob banks, which he does because he’s in possession of some MacGuffin of a key card that can open any door or bank vault in the city. Children, that’s a plot hole worthy of a Star Wars prequel. In the meantime, Faraday discovers this cape that is really special. It allows him to grab shit and acts like a freakin’ Elvish cloak. His Yoda (Keith David) trains him and soon, he’s Batmanning it up around Palm City. Meanwhile, his wife and simple kid think he’s dead.

Throughout the first hour, we’re treated to an insane number of flashbacks that show us just how fucking perfect, honorable, and upright this guy is. Hell, the first scene is of Faraday in his son’s bed, because the stupid kid “had a bad dream.” We’re getting cliches thrown at us and we haven’t even gotten past the opening credits. Anyway, we’re also told that not only is he honorable, any male who is a Faraday is a paragon of fucking virtue and stand-uppedness. His grandfather (or great grandfather)? Fought in fucking World War I. His dad? A sheriff in Palm City. Apparently, his family have midichlorians or something.

Frankly, I hated “The Cape.” And I say this as a lifelong Superman fan, the one character that everyone says is probably “too good”—hence the nickname “Big Blue Boy Scout.” I don’t think that a dark, kinda tragic character like The Cape—who is clearly modeled on Batman—can also have the moral rectitude of a Superman. It just doesn’t jibe. Like I said before, my chief problem with this show is that it is too derivative of far superior comic narratives. The Cape is clearly Batman with a touch of Superman and Spider-Man. Tragic beginnings? Check. Really Stand-Up Guy? Check. Defender of Truth and Justice? Check. One-liners at the ready when fighting? Check. Undeniably heterosexual? CHECK. Again, the problem is when you begin to mix and match different superhero narratives and try to create something unique. Anyone with an eye for these things is going to say, “Well, it was better when this was Batman” or “Why does this remind me of Spider-Man?” Further, I think that they really burned through a LOT of tropes really fast in two hours. It was like the visual equivalent of the first issue of Action Comics. Granted, a long, drawn-out introduction to the character isn’t desirable, either. However, give me something to think about—other than “This is some dumb shit.”

I’ll leave the whole “let’s hook people in with Summer Glau” business to those who are enamored of her. I realize that she’s a fanboy wet dream, but she doesn’t do it for this one here. Since I’m in the shallow end of the pool, I’ll say this: “The Cape” is going to need to give me a lot of shirtless David Lyons. That man is pretty, and I have no problem with the suits playing that up. Hell, that’s why I bother continuing to watch “Hawaii Five-O,” and that show sucks.