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Real Housewives of Atlanta: Crazy People Squawking in South Africa January 30, 2012

Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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Last Time: All these bitches acted like they wanted to go to Africa. Except Kim. What’s up with that? Marlo the Concubine backdoors her criminal ass into the show. Then they go to Africa. The whole damn continent.

They’re flying. And yes, they’re going to South Africa. We get a lot of in-flight shit. I would hate to be in first-class with these women. I’d have to have some Bose headphones. But they and their metric ton of luggage make it to South Africa without major incident. Cue vaguely African music! Kandi does wonder if these bitches have any common sense. Short answer: NO.

NeNe has no idea that Cape Town would look like a city, and Marlo the Concubine hates sharing bathrooms. Well, the Concubine must really have hated being in the clink, then. She must have hated it each and every one of the seven times she got arrested. Phaedra notes that the Concubine should have planned her own damn trip so she could have her own fucking bathroom. The Concubine proceeds to try to give etiquette lessons. Remember, this bitch was NOT EVEN INVITED. Oh, wait. She probably was…by Bravo.

They get to their luxury apartments and it turns into America’s Next Top Model. Ladies, choose your rooms! The poor concierge then has to deal with the Concubine asking all sorts of stupid fucking shit. Ugly American? Thy name is Marlo Hampton.
Kandi’s about sick and damn tired of the Concubine’s attempts to “erase her past.” Well, Phaedra will not be outdone! She knows the King! Of what, I don’t fucking know. She got everyone a gift…well, everyone except the Concubine. Well, that’s what you get for getting casually plus-one’d, says Phaedra. To add to it, Sheree knows someone who is throwing a party, and she’s going. So is Kandi. And so is Phaedra. Oops. AWKWARD!

Oh, hai, Kim! Blah blah blah, stuff happens that isn’t remotely interesting. I hate Kim’s father. He’s creepy. Kim begins whining about her “assistant.” Bitch, shut up.

Back in South Africa, the women go on a boat. Phaedra notes that, Kandi excluded, the other women have no interest in discussing politics or South Africa’s history…because they probably don’t know it. We’ll have none of that, when there’s drama to be had! And we do, courtesy of the Concubine, of course. Will no one put this heffa in her place?

Ok, I’m’a say this: I like Sheree, Kandi, and Phaedra. The Cynthia-NeNe-Concubine triumvirate is just a black hole of stupidity and vapidity. Sheree invites Cynthia to the Friend Dinner…but not NeNe and the Concubine. And why should she? Anyway, Cynthia goes run-tell-dat to NeNe and the Concubine. NeNe stupidly says that Sheree could have invited the Concubine. Again, why should she? Showing her classiness, Concubine busts up in Sheree’s spot is all “Why ain’t you invite me?”

Oh, this bitch goes there: “That’s why you don’t have a man. Go and hang with them faggots with your ugly stupid ass. Fuck you, bitch.” Don’t believe me? WATCH:

Fig. 1: Diary of a Bunch of Crazy Heffas.

Rant time, children! Look, Marlo, you useless-assed concubine. I realize that Bravo knows that you are a ratings goldmine. You’re loud, stupid, delusional, and desperate to grab on to any kind of fame. You have a checkered past that makes a Bravo executive salivate. But bitch, when you drop the f-bomb, know that the children will NOT be lining up to support you. Please know, you troglodyte that we “faggots” have more class in our little fingers than you do in your entire body—trite weave included. You aren’t even a flash-in-the-pan, and you aren’t due fifteen minutes of fame. You’re trying to give people lessons on etiquette, but don’t have enough common sense to not invite yourself along for a trip to South Africa and you for damn sure don’t have enough decency to not complain once you get there! Check yourself, please.


Real Housewives of Atlanta: “Shaping Up and Shipping Out” January 23, 2012

Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives, Uncategorized.
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Children, I know I missed a week. Life has been busy, but watching this week’s installment, it’s clear that I haven’t missed a thing.

This won’t be so much as a recap as a bit of a rant about the proceedings. The framing device for this episode is a trip to “Africa.” Apparently, Phaedra has organized this trip–and I have no idea what that actually means. Anyone with two partially-functional brain cells knows that Bravo’s footing the bill for this. That doesn’t bug me nearly as much as the repeated invocation of going to “Africa.” They talk as though Africa is some undifferentiated whole. The women keep mentioning lions and safari and other stereotypical shit that you know they wouldn’t mention if they were going to, say, England. Cynthia mentions South Africa, so I can only assume that that is indeed where they’re going.

Speaking of Cynthia, she apparently inveigles NeNe to come along. The producers had nothing to do with that, I’m sure, just as I’m sure they didn’t bother to get Kim to go. They’re saving that dogwhistle for next week. Of course, NeNe says yes. What’s a trip to “Africa” without some damn drama? So NeNe does what any reasonable person does: she invites Marlo the Concubine along for the trip. And, of course, the Concubine says yes.

Let’s talk about the Concubine for a moment, shall we? There’s a little bit in which NeNe goes to visit Marlo the Concubine with a rap sheet longer than this recap. Remember, NeNe has described the Concubine as “high society,” as was allegedly displayed during the “Captain Planet” jewelry “charity” auction. Anyway, you’d think that someone as “high society” as the Concubine would be living in a Buckhead high-rise or in a palatial manor on Cascade Road.

No. This useless wretch lives in a tackily over-decorated townhouse. As the Concubine drags NeNe through the house, she shows NeNe every bit of nouveau riche bullshit. Again, this is all designed to put NeNe in her place. If NeNe foolishly thinks she’s high-society, well, Marlo’s going to go the extra mile to let Ms. Leakes know that she is not, in fact, hot shit.

Well, guess what, Concubine? Neither are you. Sure, you can show off a high-tech security system, designer furniture and a closet chock-full of designer shoes, but all this is garish “new money.” She–and I’d probably say the majority of the cast–don’t have anything the form of real money. Outside of Phaedra and Kandi, all I see are tacky homes, tacky clothes, and a pretense at wealth. Also, it’s a pretense which will quickly fall apart.

Anyway, off to Africa! The ladies are all at Hartsfield…when Marlo shows up. Watching the looks on their faces was priceless. Phaedra didn’t appear to bother to conceal her disdain at the Concubine’s arrival. Looks like next week should be quite interesting.

T&A In Comics: A Rant January 22, 2012

Posted by Skippy in Comics, Rants, Sexuality.
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Children, look at this image of X-person Psylocke:

Fig. 1: Chiropractors in the comic book world must be insanely rich.

Jesus H. Tebowing Christ from Vulcan. This is an image taken from Generation Hope #15. The woman with her tits and ass in such an absurd, spine-breaking position is supposedly X-person Psylocke. THIS is why we need more women artists and writers. I guarantee that you’d NEVER see Wolverine or Cyclops drawn wearing butt-floss and arching their posteriors like that. You’d NEVER see Spider-Man drawn thrusting his throbbing package in your face (well, you won’t see that in the mainstream comics–I can’t speak for what you’ll find in the form of fan art)*.
*warning: link is NSFW

As others have pointed out, if mainstream comics drew male superheroes the way female superheroes are drawn, fans (largely fanboys) would lose their shit. CNN would likely do at least one report on the sexualization of comic book heroes. Ever noticed how Batman, Superman, Thor, Spider-Man, etc., etc., are always fully-clothed? Ever noticed how most male superhero costumes are functional in some way? Granted, they are designed to be skin-tight and accentuate the exaggerated musculature, but never will you ever see an exaggeration of their crotch. Never. You will also never see a male superhero designed so that he is bare-chested, unless he’s Tarzan or Conan.

Folks, male comic book artists need to come into the 20th century and get it right. Even more so, the major companies (Marvel and DC) need to get it right. It might have been cute at one point to draw women that way, but holy mother of Spock, come on.

Real Housewives of Atlanta: “Unlikely Duos” January 9, 2012

Posted by Skippy in Real Housewives.
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Last Time: Kandi wants to do country. Phaedra wants to start a funeral home. Cynthia wants her husband to stop being a dick. Everybody wants to rule the world.

Happy New Year, children! Let’s see what these hot messes have in store for us in the year of our doom 2012! We begin with Phaedra, Prince Ayden and Pastor Regina. I wonder if Pastor Regina knows about Ridickulous? Phaedra is still talking about doing this funeral home thing. Pastor Regina is excited about it…because she thinks she can get on board with this. Well, Apollo sure as hell ain’t on board. Phaedra wants to produce funerals with PIZAZZ. All righty then.

We shuffle right on over to Cynthia and Papa Smurf. They’re going to salsa lessons, but Cynthia’s still butthurt from Papa Smurf’s absence at that tacky assed party for her tacky assed modeling school or whatever the hell the Bailey Agency is supposed to be. Papa Smurf says that they don’t have fun anymore. Show of hands—when did we ever see this couple having fun? Cynthia says their major problem is communication. He says that he doesn’t like to say goodbye—even if he’s just leaving a tacky assed party. Is this a salsa lesson or a therapy session? Both of them double down on the crazy. Finally, “Andrea” brings her ass into the scene for this odd salsa lesson—-and then we go to commercial. Oy, vey.

When we come back, we’re now visiting Kim and her family. Kim’s wearing a dress that is really showing off her breasts. Kroy’s Fine Ass is wandering around this giant house that his money is barely going to be able to pay for. His face is frozen in blank horror as Kim eats up all his signing bonus on Versace place settings ($500 per setting). Brielle is becoming Bitchelle. Kroy’s Fine Ass tries to turn into Kroy’s Hard Ass. Ariana continues fulfilling her role as The Good Daughter. Kim, you really need to curb your spending habits before Kroy’s Fine Ass sends your ass packing.

What? We’re in Nashville? I wonder why? Oh, yes. We’re here to see Kandi claim that Jo Dee Messina “invited” her to write a song with her. I really don’t understand this happening. What is happening here? Anyway, Kandi sings a song she’s written, and Jo Dee has a frozen grin on her face that is all, “No.” She lies and says it’s good stuff. It so fucking isn’t. Has Kandi ever listened to country music? EVER?

NeNe is having lunch with Marlo the Concubine. NeNe says that she does not have beef with the Concubine. They begin talking about the Irrelevant Football Player. The Concubine is trying for all she’s worth to be a new Housewife. NeNe interviews that she’ll never fight over another dude. Well, I hope not, especially Irrelevant Football Player, because he looks afflicted.

Fig. 1: Ladies, please do not fight over this man. Seriously. Come on.

Anyway, the Concubine says that she’s been arrested seven times. NeNe: “Now say what now?” She says she thinks that the Concubine is real. Real crazy, I betcha. The Concubine says she doesn’t like drama…which means that bitch ain’t nothing BUT drama.

Fig. 2: Moral of the story: don’t mess with crazy.

Speaking of, Sheree shows up to help Kim get her pre-baby body back. Sheree’s like, “Damn, I’ll never see anything like this!” She interviews that she didn’t have much luck snagging a professional athlete. No shit. Sheree tries to get that beweaved idiot to work out, but Kim complains the entire fucking time. Sheree: “I don’t think that Kim will ever be as dedicated to health and fitness as I am…” She is the master of the understatement this episode, isn’t she? She tries to motivate Kim by referencing Kroy’s Fine Ass—if that doesn’t get her doing some crunches, I don’t know what will.

Moving on…we’re now at Willie Watkins’s Funeral Home again. Phaedra is trying to get the Hot Piece of Ass intrigued in the mortuary business. Why the hell is she going to Watkins to ask for business advice? And why the hell is Bravo putting subtitles on everything Willie is saying? He’s speaking English. Jesus, Bravo. I will say this: HPoA is cutting a nice figure in a suit. Mmm HM.

We’re back in Nashville at some country store. Kandi remarks that she’ll be the only black person in the store. She also interviews that she thinks she has country swag. This is stupid.

NeNe goes to the “Captain Planet Foundation Jewelry Fundraiser.” THE HELL? Captain Planet?!?

Fig. 3: Is the real Captain Planet gonna have to choke a bitch?

Anyway, it’s weird for NeNe to hang out with the Concubine as she’s hanging around these shady people. I don’t believe this is an actual charity for a minute. Anyway, this is allegedly related to Ted Turner. This is some bullshit. NeNe says she doesn’t need a $25,000 pair of earring, which is correct because she fucking can’t afford them. Frankly, I think the Concubine “invited” NeNe to this soiree to let NeNe know who’s boss and who’s really got the funds.

HPoA shows up to Phaedra’s office with flowers. He claims that he doesn’t want to be tainted by working with dead bodies. He’s nice to look at, but he really ought not speak. Anyway, he surprisingly decides to support Phaedra’s Fantasy Funerals. Aren’t you surprised? I was surprised. Totally. Completely.

Anyway, Cynthia and Papa Smurf visit some one-off church to get some counseling from Pastor Pollard. He whips out his iPad and I’m irritated. Because I don’t have one. Anyway, they blather about their individual lunacies. Pollard strings words together in an incomprehensible sentence. Then both Papa Smurf and Cynthia begin hurling sentences at each other. These idiots seem to think that marriage is always supposed to be wine and roses, but I truly couldn’t care less. I’ve got shit in my refrigerator that has a longer shelf life than this marriage.

Skippy Prejudges The Movies!: “Joyful Noise” January 1, 2012

Posted by Skippy in Movies, Observations, Popular Culture.
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Fig. 1: The Worst Movie of 2012.

I’ve been seeing commercials for this cinematic abomination for nigh unto three weeks now and have either changed the channel with extreme alacrity or have had to take an insulin shot to prevent going into a diabetic coma. I generally loathe “feel good” movies that are this shallow, this poorly written and this nakedly manipulative.

Clearly, this movie is an attempt to capitalize on America’s love affair with Glee—which would mean that this movie should have been released two years ago (and probably not even then). Anyway, this movie appears to feature Dolly Parton and Queen Latifah as parental figures in a “small town” who are in contention for the directorship of a church choir. You have to love movies like this; they are always set in “small towns,” most likely in Alabamanianatuckyssippiennessee. And the church that both Parton and Latifah attend has a “council”—I’d bet good money that this church is as non-descript as the small town in which this celluloidal putrefaction is set.

Apparently, the “plot” of this movie revolves around Parton (looking freshly Botoxed, pulled, and shellacked) and Latifah’s rivalry. Latifah is staid and old fashioned, which means that the choir never wins the Joyful Noise choir competition of WTF? Enter Parton’s grandson, some Taylor Lautner-adjacent boy who can sing and Latifah’s daughter, some poor child who really wants to break into Hollywood. They’re supposed to be Romeo and Juliet, bringing fresh ideas to church choirs…like shaking your ass for Jesus.

Fig. 2: Jesus don’t like ugly. And this movie is U-G-L-Y.

Blah, blah, blah, you’re supposed to plunk down upwards of $11 plus the cost of refreshments to watch Parton and Latifah trade stupid barbs and you’re supposed to go “Oooh” and “Awww” as two totally non-descript younglings have a love affair so boring, even Edward and Bella look interesting by comparison. I don’t think it’s a spoiler to speculate that Latifah learns the error of her staid and boring ways and allows the non-descript church choir to sing some stupid ass-shaking song and then the choir wins and the non-descript younglings go off to Who Gives A Fuckistan to pursue their dreams of having sex.

Skippy’s Pre-Judgment: Kill it with fire.