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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.

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A New “Reality” Show: Just What the World Needs August 16, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Popular Culture, Rants.
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Fig. 1: More vapid famewhores!

This will not be a full recap of the first episode of Bravo’s new “reality” show “Most Eligible Dallas”—what the hell kind of name is that for a show,anyway? I don’t want to get your hopes up in thinking I would spend an hour of my life every week watching this unconscionably awful putrefaction. I do, however, want to record my impressions from having watched part of this excrement.

So, apparently, some meth-addled execs at Bravo wondered which major American city hadn’t yet been sullied by reality television. As they sat around on the pipe and tweaking or whatever it is meth-heads do after a four day meth binge, one of them momentarily popped out of his drug-induced haze and slurred, “Dallassss!” And thus, “Most Eligible Dallas” was born.

This show is allegedly about the “lives” of six allegedly “beautiful” and “rich” and “young” Dallas humanoids and their petty, vain, useless thoughts about the things that preoccupy all beautiful and rich and young humanoids: drinking, sex, more drinking, and being beautiful (externally, not internally). As with introductory shows, we have to first lay the groundwork for “who” these petty, vain and useless humanoids are. Like I said, I only watched part of this abortion, but what I did see made me want to get a posse together to go to Dallas and beat these fools into a coma. Believe me, that would be an improvement.

Let’s meet the famewhores!


Glenn Pakulak is A has-been who never really was. He’s a punter for the Oakland Raiders…
[Skippy spends a few minutes laughing uncontrollably]
…who fancies himself a model.
[Skippy spends a few more minutes laughing uncontrollably]
Ok. So, yeah. This fool really thinks he’s a model. He even says that he totally has the goods to be a model. Yeah, Glenn. You and the five hundred other younger, more attractive and more experienced guys out there. Better stick to what you know, dude. Oh, and he fancies himself a “player,” as evidenced by his predilection for putting together outfits that scream, “I’M A DOUCHEBAG!!!” He probably singlehandedly has more Ed Hardy T-shirts than all of the Metroplex.

Neill Skylar: Aside from having a name that came straight from “Dynasty,” this humanoid’s only real purpose is to be the “girlfriend” (i.e., fuckpuppet) of the one person douchier than Glenn…

Matt Nordgren: This guy fairly screams, “I HAVE A TEENY, TINY PENIS AND NO BRAIN.” He’s worse than Glenn in that he tries to act like a player, but then denies acting like a player. He appears generically pretty, but like a Monet, the longer you stare, the more you realize that he’s quite ugly. He’s all ears and forehead and duh face. And then you stare into his blank eyes and realize that the only thing going on behind them is him scheming how to get you into bed and wondering if you’ll give him head.

Oh! And he has a giant balding spot that looks more like Jupiter’s Great Red Spot. He can act all cocky and say dumb shit like, “I consider myself the total package for sure. … Everything in my life, I’ve been groomed to be a great man. … If you want to hate on me for being a single and 28 … Fine. Do it,” but at the end of the day, he’s losing his hair at 30 and doesn’t have the kind of looks that will carry him into 40, much less 50.

Courtney Kerr: She’s the frumpiest humanoid in this sorry lot. She wears a lot of bumpits and doesn’t seem to know how to create a hairdo that doesn’t add ten years to her age. She’s a killjoy…and worse, she’s obviously lusting after the aforementioned Matt. She’s such a doormat, that when Matt the Balding Douchebag calls virtually every fake blonde in his contact list and Courtney to find some folks to hang out with at some tiresome bar, she fairly jumps at the chance to be around her last, best hope for impregnation. And then she’s pissed as hell when the fake blondes show up. But the shade she throws at the tiresome bar pales in comparison to the SHADE she throws Neill when Matt the Balding Douchebag shows up with her in tow at some chi-chi-frou-frou restaurant. Of course, Matt’s such a Douchebag that he clearly sees what’s up and stokes Courtney’s ire. She’s an idiot for playing like his “friend” and he’s an idiot for stringing her along.

Finally, we have the only gay guy in the group, Drew Ginsburg. Children, I have never seen a sadder gay in my entire life. He’s all braggadocio and self-hate and overcompensation. He’s the scion of some high end car dealer and acts like he’s the freakin’ heir to the Throne of Gondor…until the mask slips and you get to see just how much he hates himself. Boy howdy! Ok, so he used to weigh 450 pounds, but lost the weight through discipline, hard work, and an honest evaluation of self a gastric bypass…and doses of a female hormone. Seriously. We watch as he pulls out a syringe filled with the hormone and injects it into his flank. What’s it supposed to do? I don’t remember, but I do remember him telling the assembled famewhores that if he took a pregnancy test, it would register positive. Awesome! And by “Awesome!” I mean, “Are you out of your Vulcan mind?!?”

Oh, and Our Drew is gay. But he’s not like those other gays, what with their feather boas and lipstick and self-respect, no siree, Bob! Our Drew is a manly man and he proves it by being homophobic at nearly every turn. Here’s an example:

I’m not your stereotypical gay man. Gasoline runs in my veins. To me there is nothing more exciting than hearing the roar of that engine. … I live in one of the most expensive, prestigious addresses in uptown Dallas. I’ve got a view that’s a panty dropper. When I need something, I just press a button. … People look at me and say “How the f*ck are you gay? You sell cars! I don’t know. I’ve broken the mother-f*cking mold all my life.

Okay. For those you who didn’t get it, here’s what we’ve learned about The Gays from Our Drew:
1. We the Gays don’t drive cars and if we do, we sure as hell don’t know the difference between a four-cylinder and eight-cylinder engine.
2. Living in a prestigious address in uptown Dallas has everything to do with your sexual proclivities and masculine carriage.
3. Selling cars totally means that you’re straight, because no gay man has ever, in the history of cars, ever sold one.

You know, if you took out “gay” and replaced it with “woman” or “Black,” you’d have groups like NOW or the NAACP blowing up Bravo’s voicemail in protest. But with the mere “inclusion” of this self-loathing reptile, Bravo thinks they’ve done us a huge favor. Compare Drew to the other two troglodytes: Drew went to Georgetown for law school and has a legitimate career and options should he decide to not continue selling expensive cars. But because he (and by extension, Bravo) has an extraordinarily low opinion of himself/other gays, we will be treated to looking at him as a sideshow freak standing on the outside looking in while the other heterosexuals get the majority of the screen time. Way to represent, Drew!

Skippy’s Got Some Words About “The Help” August 7, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Black folks, Observations, Popular Culture, Racism, Rants.
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Fig. 1: The White Lady’s Burden

I’ve seen commercials for this movie every time I turn on the television. I’d heard about the book, but then when I heard they were making this book into a movie, I knew this would be yet another in a long line of movies that revolve around The White Man’s Burden and/or The Magical Negro.


Figs. 2 & 3: Hollywood loves this shit.

Hollywood loves crap like this because it allows producers of this tripe to think that they’re being all liberal and shit. What pisses me off about “The Help” is that the black women in the movie become the vehicle by which The White Lady achieves self-actualization. To me, it’s the rankest form of Hollywood racism; shitfilms like this make Hollywood whites feel good about themselves (“Look at us! We’re so liberal, we made a movie about them darkies the African Americans and how we helped them not be so backward/forgotten/mistreated! We’re awesome! Let’s give us an Oscar!”); at the end of the day, the movie isn’t about African Americans at all. These movies wind up being about white people…and their burden.


Fig. 4: Starring Emma Stone and a bunch of Black women!

Why Did I Watch “Why Did I Get Married, Too”? June 20, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Movies, This Week In Netflix.
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SPOILER ALERT: The below missive will have many spoilers. If you do not wish to know major “plot” points of this movie, discontinue reading.

The “joy” of watching a Tyler Perry movie is knowing that I will not get anything other than a treacly, self-indulgent, badly written and directed two-hour tour de force of misogynistic tripe. So, Perry’s thoroughly unnecessary follow up to 2007’s “Why Did I Get Married?” completely fulfilled me. And by “fulfilled,” I mean “It enraged me to the point of apoplexy.” How his movies haven’t been brought before the Hague on charges of human rights violations is beyond me.

Anyway, so we return to the stupidly sordid world of four self-absorbed bourgeois African American couples and watch as they spout platitude-laden dialogue that could have been written by Oprah Winfrey or Deepak Chopra. This time, the stupid, self-absorbed bourgeois Buppies are jetting off to the Caribbean for their annual marriage retreat. Must be nice to go to the fucking Caribbean for a marriage retreat. Mind you, the first one was pretty fucking disastrous, so nothing says “smart” like doing the same damn thing again, right?


Fig. 1: Yeah, because these retreats are nothing but success!

You’d also think that these fools wouldn’t have much to be all angsty about after the first movie, right? Well, in order for there to be a second movie, Perry has to completely wipe away any character development that occurred in the first one. Angela (Tasha Smith), the Loud, Angry Black Woman has returned—if you remember, she supposedly had calmed the fuck down and had quit drinking. Well, not this time! She’s back, and louder and angrier than before. Her husband Marcus (Michael Jai White) is still cowed by her—the only difference is that now he has a job as an on-air personality (a job that Angela nearly gets him fired from). Gavin (Malik Yoba) and Pat (Janet Jackson) are still the picture-perfectly fucked up couple…and the death of their kid that you thought they had worked through in the first movie is still tearing them up. I guess Gavin wasn’t strong enough for the both of them. Terry (Tyler Perry) and Dianne (Sharon Leal) appear to be the picture of happiness…until we find out that Dianne is “emotionally cheating” on Terry. And finally, we have Sheila (Jill Scott) and Troy (Lamman Rucker), whose marriage is floundering because, at Sheila’s insistence, the couple has moved to Atlanta and Troy can’t find a job. Oh, and Snidely Blacklash (or, Mike, as he’s played by Richard T. Jones) returns, because he has a timeshare in the Caribbean and just happens to be there at the same time as the four buppie couples.

After yet another disastrous bit of sharing during which Pat announces to the group that she and Gavin are getting divorced, everyone abruptly returns to their fucked up lives. I won’t even bother with the tedious details of their stupid storylines, because they can all be summed up thusly: the marriages are all fucked up because these Black women are evil and will do evil shit. Let’s examine this, shall we?

Angela: Loud, obnoxious, abrasive, emasculating. Doesn’t trust “her man.” As of the first movie, she had been “domesticated” so that she had even quit drinking. Now, she’s back on the sauce and is always yelling at Marcus, driving him further and further away. A Good Black Woman would trust her man and not drink, for drinking is the sure sign of an Evil Black Woman.

Sheila: Selfish. Wanted to move to Atlanta, uprooting Troy from his job as a sheriff. His joblessness is all her fault. A Good Black Woman would have let Troy be the Only Black Sheriff in Colorado and not dragged him to the apparently jobless wilderness of Atlanta.

Dianne: Slut. In the first movie, she gets her tubes tied without telling Terry, knowing full well that Terry wanted a boy. Now, she got them untied and the couple has a boy and a girl. Only now, she’s having “an emotional affair” with some dude at work. And because women are more emotional than men, this is worse than having gotten some sweet, sweet lovin’—this wisdom is from the mouth of Terry. What an unbelievable slut. A Good Black Woman would shoot Dianne and then marry Terry and provide him with all the babies he wants.

Patricia: Evil Harpy from Hell. Her emotional disconnect from the death of their cross-eyed kid plus her selfishness leads to her declaring a divorce from Gavin. Further, she tries to hide assets from Gavin, leading to an acrimonious divorce, which ends…in Gavin dying in a fucking car wreck. A Good Black Woman would have taken care to properly strap their cross-eyed kid into the car and would have shared the profits from her book with her deserving husband.

This time around, nobody actually deals with their issues—after Gavin dies, all that happens is Patricia bellowing that everyone should get over their issues. And voila! Everybody does.

What?

Oh, and to add insult to (fatal) injury, a year after Gavin gets pancaked by a rental van, Patricia is introduced to a “wealthy donor”…played by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. The grin on Patricia’s face was all “Fuck mourning! Helloooooo, Mr. Hottness!”

Y’all, I don’t even.

Stupid, Ugly Man Writes Stupid, Racist Article About “Attractiveness.” Film at Eleven. May 18, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Culture, General Weirdness, Racism.
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Fig. 1: This guy has the nerve to write about attractiveness?

Ok, so apparently, this idiot, Satoshi Kanazawa, wrote an incendiary piece for Psychology Today called “Why Are Black Women Less Physically Attractive Than Other Women?”

Before I even get to the “content” of his stupid article, I have to talk about the title. The title presumes off the bat that Black women are “less physically attractive” than other women. Wow. That right there is awesome. I mean, why even bother pretending to have anything in the neighborhood of scientific objectivity? If you’re gonna go racist, go RACIST. Don’t half-step it, Satoshi!

Anyway, Kanazawa claims to have “objective” data that would explain just why Black women are so damned ugly. Are you ready? Sitting down? Got plenty of alcohol in hand? Good.
* Black women are on average much heavier than nonblack women.

Well, as we all know, nobody likes any junk in that trunk. Nobody.

Fig. 1: The butt is a lie.

* Africans have more mutations in their genomes than other races. And the mutation loads significantly decrease physical attractiveness (because physical attractiveness is a measure of genetic and developmental health).

So, basically, because there’s more diversity among Africans, Black women are less attractive than women in other races. Because inbreeding produces nothing but awesome-looking people.

Fig. 2: One of these young men is probably not the offspring of Prince Charles. You’ll never guess which one.

And, to borrow from Professor Farnsworth, Good News! Being good looking is a “measure of genetic and developmental health.” And here I thought that attractiveness was purely subjective. Isn’t science awesome?

But hark! Kanazawa has a problem. If both Black men and women have more genome mutations, then shouldn’t Black men be equally hideous to everyone? Shouldn’t Kim Kardashian fairly faint at the sight of Reggie Bush? Well, no. Because Kanazawa presents an argument so insane, that it just might work!

* The only thing I can think of that might potentially explain the lower average level of physical attractiveness among black women is testosterone. Africans on average have higher levels of testosterone than other races, and testosterone, being an androgen (male hormone), affects the physical attractiveness of men and women differently.

Well, now. Did I read that correctly, or did Kanazawa just call Black women a bunch of intersexed ugly people? I think he just called Black women a bunch of intersexed ugly people. Mind you, the “study” he’s drawing on to make his “conclusions”? Doesn’t explain or even consider the historical and social forces behind “attractiveness.” Let me give you an example of the subjectivity of “attractiveness.” Back in college, there was this guy I thought was the Hottest Man To Ever Walk The Earth. Fifteen years ago, I would have literally slapped my mother if I’d have had a shot at him. Now? Well, not so much. He’s still attractive—to me—but now I’m like, “Meh. I’ve seen better.” What changed? Well, I’ve seen more men. Also? Time has helped shape and reshape my thoroughly subjective judgments about what I think is attractive.

What’s hilarious—and sad—is that this guy is proffering all of these racist crackhead theories and doesn’t seem to acknowledge that he himself as a Japanese man will likely be subjected to a number of racist assumptions about the “attractiveness” and “sexual prowess” of Asian men.

Or maybe he has and has decided to embark on a Pinky and the Brain-like program of idiotic disinformation as he attempts TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD. I really hope it’s that.


Fig. 3: Remember ladies (or gents); this could all be yours!

The End is Nigh! Again! May 14, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Culture, General Weirdness, Religion.
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So says a bunch of people. From NPR:

Brian Haubert grabs some pamphlets and marches toward the flea market in Palmyra, N.J. Armed with a poster that trumpets Judgment Day on May 21, 2011, he braces for rejection. Announcing God’s wrath is not always a popular message.

“I’ve been called a heretic,” says Haubert, a 33-year-old actuary. “I’ve been told I read the wrong Bible. And then there’s the occasional person who seems to be genuinely interested,” he says.

His friend and fellow believer, Kevin Brown, uses a gentler approach, not confronting people or engaging in conversation, just politely handing out Judgment Day pamphlets.

Now see, I wouldn’t call Haubert a heretic.

I’d call him crazy.

Add him to the long list of people who have gotten their knickers in a twist because the world isn’t quite going the way they think it ought and hope for an imaginary sky-friend to come along and kill all the right people—ever noticed how the doomsayers are never the ones who are going to be on the receiving end of their preferred deity’s wrath? No, ma’am and no sir. These upstanding folks are all a bunch of Jor-Els, running around trying to warn us sinner folk of our sinning ways. Of course, religion isn’t the only culprit in these end of the world freak outs. Remember Y2K? Yeah, people lost their shit over a potential glitch in computers and acted like the End of Days was upon us. And then there’s the impending year 2012 in which woo-addled morons think that the world will end because some Mayans who were writing their dayplanners stopped at some point and said, “Hey, let’s grab some lunch and call it a day.”

Anyway, the world didn’t end in 2000—or in 1978 or in 1988 or when Barack Obama was elected President or when George W. Bush choked on a pretzel. But try telling that to the folks at WeCanKnow.com:

Fig. 1: Since I’m a godless sodomite and will be left behind, would you mind signing over all your financial assets to me?

These folks are convinced that there’s been some “special” revelation—which specifically contradicts Jesus’s assertion that no one would know the day nor hour in which the “end of the age” would occur. But hey, they claim that their only source for this special revelation is the Bible…I guess the very words of their religion’s founder simply don’t count for squat, but weird readings of Pauline letters do. Isn’t proof-texting fun?

Funny thing is, these folks never do reveal just how they came up with Saturday, May 21st, 2011 as the date in which their deity would decide to do something really dramatic. Why May 21st? Why not, say, 70 C.E.? Why not when the early church was deep in the shit and being persecuted left, right and center? Why not around the time of the Bubonic Plague or the Influenza Epidemic of the early 20th Century? Why not during the 1950s? And these are people who are clearly ill-informed about their own religion’s history when it comes to predicting “the end:”

Tough question first: What would you say in response to those who would argue that the Bible never talks about the rapture, nor does the word or concept appear in the Bible, but rather it is simply a 18th century theological construction?

Quite simply, they do not believe the Bible, nor do they understand the enormous relevance of the the resurrection, and subsequent glorification of the bodies of “most” true believers; there are a few exceptions – like Enoch, Elijah and others, who already possess their glorified spiritual bodies). While it is true that the word “Rapture” dos not appear in the Bible, the word “shall be caught up” does, as it appears in 1 Thes. 4:17 (as well as 12 other citation). Please note the very significant context of verses 13-18, plus it precedes one of the most important chapters on the Bible that we can absolutely KNOW the timing of the “catching up” and the Day of Judgment (which is a period of 153 days in actuality from May 21, 2011 – October 21, 2011) in 1 Thes. 5:1-5:

(source: The American Jesus.net)

These folks either don’t know or don’t care to know anything about John Nelson Darby, the British theologian responsible for this “rapture theology” to which they so blindly subscribe. Also, they’re so confident that this is happening, that they can’t even fathom responding to people on the 22nd. I daresay, next Sunday will be very interesting—especially since these folks can’t back off and say that “Oh, well, we got it wrong.”


Fig. 2: I wonder if these ladies will be smiling next week?


Fig. 3: That’s a pretty big matzo ball hanging out there.

Wonder Woman? I Think Not. March 28, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Comics, Observations, Popular Culture, Science Ficton.
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Gaze upon this trainwreck and tell me that David E. Kelley’s impending abomination won’t suck ten kinds of ass:

Fig. 1: Cheap-looking, and tacky.

Children, even Adrianne Palicki looks like she can’t believe she’s in this get-up. What’s wrong with this outfit? Let’s count:

1. It’s too damned shiny.
This looks like the televisual equivalent of JJ Abrams’ overuse of lens flares in Star Trek (2009). Could you imagine Wondy running around in broad daylight in this thing? Why, the reflections off of this getup would cause blindness in a five block radius.

2. It looks cheap.
As other bloggers have noted, this looks like a generic Superhero Halloween outfit, woman version. The supposed “gold” parts of the uniform don’t look at all like actual gold. Rather, they look like cheap plastic—of course, it is cheap plastic, but it shouldn’t look like cheap plastic. Even the bracelets look like cheap plastic.

3. That tiara is awful…actually, all of it is awful.
Seriously. Now, it seems that the producers and costume designers are following the recent “redesign” of Wonder Woman’s uniform in the comic books. It certainly looks a lot like it, but that tiara is supposed to be a bit more…pronounced. The bracelets look like craptacular. The bustier is just plain tragic.

Children, it looks like this televised Wonder Woman will be nowhere near the awesome cheesiness of the 1970s show. I was already skeptical when I read about David Kelley’s take on this superhero icon. The Ally McBeal-ish quirks and this pathetic costume redesign do not bode well. Oh, and it’s going to be on NBC, the network that brought you “Heroes” and “The Event.”

A Short Meditation on Charlie Sheen March 12, 2011

Posted by Skippy in Observations, Popular Culture.
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Fig. 1: Dude, seek help. Seriously.

I, like many other Americans, was mildly amused when Charlie Sheen first went off the rails a few weeks ago. I assumed that his drunken, drug-abusing, prostitute-patronizing antics were just the peccadilloes of an over-privileged whackaloon in need of a good ass-whupping. When he gave his now-infamous interview and declared that he was living with two “goddesses” and that he was “winning,” I figured that he was just capitalizing on the crazy. Hey, even bad press is better than no press, right?

But then I found his “Sheen’s Korner.”

Fig. 2: No, seriously. SEEK HELP.

Sheen apparently ended his little jaunt into webcasting this week. However, in the four thirty-minute tirades, I went from finding him amusing to experiencing an inchoate horror. To say that “Sheen’s Korner” is like watching a car wreck is quite an understatement. I don’t think I’m alone here, but this guy needs serious professional help. His ravings sound like those of someone who might be a bi-polar schizophrenic.* If Charlie Sheen was just a regular guy, no doubt he’d be in jail by now and under court-mandated psychiatric care; however, because he’s a “star,” we are all bearing witness to public meltdowns, each one more perplexing than the previous one. As we’ve seen with other celebrities who surrounded themselves with a coterie of yes-men and women, the ones who needed help the most rarely got it. I fear that Sheen will join the long list of people who didn’t get the kind of mental health care they needed.

*I am not an actual doctor, and am not at all qualified to diagnose Charlie Sheen’s mental issues.

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.

Seriously, DO NOT Take Dating Advice From This Guy December 9, 2010

Posted by Skippy in General Weirdness, Religion.
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Behold the awkward!


Fig. 1: Creepy? Or just plain douchey? You decide.

I don’t know what’s supposedly “Christian” about his “advice” other than the fact that he’s targeting Christian boys/men/carbon based life-forms with male genitalia. His “advice” is so genuinely creepy and gobsmackingly stupid, that I can’t believe that this “Greg D.”(sounds like a sex offender’s name if I’ve ever heard one) is able to hold seminars—much less charge good money for them. And this fool has a website!

Whatever happened to “Hi, how are you doing?”

Update: “Greg D.” removed the video. I suppose exposing one’s douchery for all the world to see and mock was just too much for Jesus Suave’.