This month for Allure, I funneled all of my crazy, weird love for pop stars into a slideshow all about "10 Beauty Looks Inspired From the 10 Times You Wanted to Be a Pop Princess." Go check it out here.
Life is hard, man. Sometimes you see a sexy mofo, you want to look at them, but you don't know the appropriate length of time that you can thrust your eyeballs upon them. If only there was some kind of ruuuuuuule...Sweet Jesus' Birkenstocks.
This video raises so many questions in my mind grapes. Who the eff are the backup singers on this track? Muppets? Demons from The Labyrinth? Why is there a creepy, disembodied, old-timey lady's outfit posted up in the corner of the classroom? Is this some kind of historical monument that homegirl is sanging all over? WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON AFTER THE 2:30 MARK? No, seriously, what the eff is that? Why is she squatting? Is she having stomach pains? Did she just run really far? I'm not really sure how to live my life from here.
Has there ever been anything more awkward than this video?
Oh, man. You know it's going to be great music video experience when that little artist/title thingy doesn't leave the corner of the screen for well over a minute. You really know that things are headed to Perfection-ville, population Cathy, when she removes her sunglasses apparatus from her sensible Lens Crafters creations. Those were NOT from the $99 wall, I can almost guarantee.
But then things start taking an odd turn for me. When KC goes on about "tasting adventure," sh*t got weird. Keyboard Cathy clearly very feels VERY sensual feelings about sashimi, you guys. Wait. Is this really just a bowl-cutted video full of sexual innuendo? By the eyebrows at the 2:41 mark, I don't really think that it could be anything else. OH MY GOD, AT 3:35 IT'S ALL JUST TOO MUCH. Is Key Key possibly talking about try her OTHER bowl cut? And is it...is it...pierced?
Well, I probably just ruined your weekend, your life, and any chance in hell of you going to a sushi restaurant again, so also the sushi industry as a whole. My work here is done.
This is the "Dark Horse" teaser video. This is also Katy Perry wearing effing gigantic rhinestones on her teeth. Like, GIGANTIC. Like, so big that homie can't close her mouth and the Titanic crashed into it.
Cleopatra is all, "What the f*ck is this ridiculous b doing?" from her sarcophagus made from completely non-rhinestone jewels right now. What a historical abomination.
I've decided to start trying to diversify my sh*t, and attempt to write various kinds of things. Today I wrote my first essay, just to kind of see if I could, and if I had anything to write about. It's a memoir, of sorts, about an Elementary School-aged me, and this song:
The essay is after the jump if you care to indulge, and if not, that's cool too. It's totally acceptable if you're here to talk about lipstick and Justin Bieber. Don't worry, I'm still doing that. I probably won't post more of these essays here, but I thought I would go ahead and post this sh*t because it's the first one and, whatever, I do what I want.
Mother of a b, Kris Jenner, is nothing sacred in this world? Never mind, I think that we already know your answer to that sh*t. Even Nicole Richie's presence in this video couldn't elevate it beyond terrible-to-quite-terrible levels, because Kris Jenner is attempting to rap one of the greatest songs of all historical times and completely effs it up. Salt-N-Pepa's "Shoop" is pretty much a hymn for me, and now it's ALL JUST RUINED!
I have a rich, deep history with this song, so spin it for me one more time, Spinderella, and it goes like this: When I was in middle school, I had the CD/cassette of "Shoop," and I listened to it every damn day on my Disc/Walkman (I can't remember which of these this was...it was the early 90s) as I rode the bus on the way to school. I then started writing the lyrics to the song so I could memorize them, which I did, and I STILL KNOW ALL OF THEM TO THIS DAY. So, the moral of the story? Kris Jenner just ruined my childhood. Thanks a bunch.
No, seriously, I bought some chips today and I can't stop thinking about them. I'm going to shove all of them into my mouth hole.
Remember when I used to do that whole 'GUUUUUURL of the Day' deal? Yeah, I should probably get my sh*t together and actually try to do things that I'm supposed to do more often. Just like my middle school guidance counselor said, I should really apply myself more.
So in the spirit of getting back on (off?) the wagon, here's a video from yesteryear (2008) that I am just now discovering, even though I have a full subscription to every unicorn-related newsletter from here to eternity. I must have been too busy vajazzling in '08, causing this gem (zing!) to slip though my grubby paws.
I don't know who this delightfully bowl-cutted young man is, but I want in on this Unicorn Kingdom Club. Move, Miss Emily, get out the way. "Just close your eyes and grab onto the horn, " is a motto I can totally get behind.
Usually I feel like this about in regards to most humans:
It's pretty universal in my world. But then J Hud, the keeper of the amazing pipes, comes along does something super sweet and selfless and makes the rest of the celebrity world look like a big old bag o' d's. As the world's best boss move she bought her assistant, and friend since elementary school, A MF-ING HOUSE for Christmas. This video is him discovering the big reveal.
Well, that is just the cutest thing I've witnessed in a hot minute. The only thing more adorable than that is (maybe) a basket of kittens.
Hey guys, guess what? I found the anthem of current times, and it features a lot of bad wigs, faux vomiting, a shirtless Jersey Shore-esque dude on a trampoline and a sh*tload of Ozzy Osbourne sunglasses.
Let's dissect this as we watch.
0:01 - Prom shoes.
0:12 - Oh, sh*t. This is going to be bad.
0:18 - Humping birds and an inauthentic Facebook "like" thumb. Why?
0:22 - Ohhhhh, this is Eastern Euopean. Where they really enjoy Hasselhoff. I kind of wish he was in this.
0:33 - Huge "YOLO" joints. Is that how you must watch this?
0:47 - *than
0:51 - Dance floor. Two words. Who edited this???
0:53 - "I'm just like Paris Hilton in 2003, but Russian and I have a Jack Russel"
1:22 - A guy on the trampoline has a rotary phone. If that doesn't make you feel YOLO, I don't know what would.
1:30 - What kind of top does one reach from YOLO-ing? Trash mountain?
1:35 - What the eff is going on with that low-rent DIY liquor (?) bottle?
1:42 - Apparently, being freightened by break-dancing, cheap ass mask-wearing dude in an unfinished apartment building makes you brave.
1:54 - Prince('s cousin's adopted son)?
2:45 - Oh, good, it's over.
2:46 - Dammit.
2:50 - Glamorous condom slipping.
2:57 - Romance.
3:00 - "Jewels."
3:17 - Running Man with terrible form.
3:37 - Popping YOLO bottles in the Wet Seal version of the "Bad" Michael Jackson jacket.
Annnnnnd, scene. If that video cost more than a day old ham sandwich to make, homegirl should demand a refund. I'm pretty sure I just watched the live action, musical version of this:
Warning: NSFW due to things like boobies and roughly 10 million effs, but life is kind of NSFW, offices of America. Revolt! (I'm just getting you prepared for the high drama.)
Warning #2: This mess is 30 minutes long, so get comfortable. Or break it up into segments to watch during your pee pee times.
That was a long ass haul, but I happened to watch all of it, and I don't watch all of much. The first scene featured a unicorn, so did I even have a frigging choice in this matter? If you are too time-cheap to invest 30 minutes into watching, here's the Cliff's Notes version:
Lana and a little skinny guy, who I'm guessing is an H&M model, or something, are in the Garden of Eden wearing my Halloween costume from 2002. (This is not a lie. I wish I had a picture.) They're joined by Faux-arilyn Monroe, Fake-lvis and Non-John Wayne. Oh, and Jesus. Jesus is there. Lana takes a bite of the proverbial forbidden fruit, or whatever, and...scene.
She's now a stripper in a club with fire hazard-ly low ceilings, and HAS TEARDROP TATTOOS on her face, which happen to be my favorite accessory.
There's probably a late 90's Ice Cube song playing in this place. Skinny model guy works at some low-rent store where shirtless dudes come in and do possible crank/angel dust/something I don't even know about from the front counter. He also points plungers around like a fake gun. Sometimes Lana sits on the low-rent store's counter in oversized t-shirts, BECAUSE JUST BECAUSE SHE'S A STRIPPER DOESN'T MEAN SHE'S SLUTTY. Skinny's probably getting a raise soon. At some point a Day of the Dead party is attended. A robbery of boring old white men (some with Brad-Pitt-circa-1997-highlights) is planned, using the ol' stripper/armed robbery switcharoo.
Next we find Skinny and Lana in a Bonnie and Clyde-esque car driving through a field, while Lana discards the old parts of their former thug life, ending with her taking off the black chiffon thingy she's wearing. Now they're wearing white, because they're now dead/innocent again. OBVIOUSLY. But don't worry, the tattoo tear drops are still kicking it and staying alive, unlike them. There's wheat field dancing, water play (not peeing though), and finally ascending to heaven, or Non-John Wayne's rifle storage shed. I'm not really sure.
Overall, I was pretty, pretty into this hootenanny. I know some people are not jumping on the LDR train, but I happen to have bought a round trip ticket with no refunds. Not to mention, this mini movie featured her song "Gods and Monsters," and that just happens to be my sh*t.
Judge me if you feel the need, PHAEDRA. What did you guys think? Like/hate/meh? Too long to watch, even for teardrop tattoos? (You need to re-evaluate your priorities.)
I don't know if you guys peeped the scene of the American Music Awards last night, but I did, and I noticed that something f*cking terrible happened. No, not Pitbull's boring ass, dry toast hosting skills. I'm talking about the realization that I'm getting friggin' old. These are the moments of clarity that lead me to this sad sack conclusion. (I'm sure I have very few moments of clarity before my mind starts to go, so let's cherish this time together.)
#1 -- I was all, "Damn, Fall Out Boy got old, " then realized that some of them are younger than my ass. I need to check Craig's List for a hyperbaric chamber.
#2 -- This One Direction dude's hair. No really, what the eff is happening on this guy's head? Insanity, or I'm just elderly, that's what.
#3 -- Man tunics. Jesus, take the wheel.
#4 --WHO THE HELL ARE THESE PEOPLE?
My eyeballs have never rested upon any of these humans before, and it might be time for me to retire.
#5 -- Rihanna was wearing the same accessory sh*t that I was wearing in 1997. Shout out to Contempo Casuals.
#6 -- Lady Gaga's performance only made me feel like I was watching "Trapped In The Closet, Part 374: Politico Edition."
#7 -- I totally related to OG members of TLC. My knees and back are struggling now, too, y'all. Poor T-Boz and Chili's dancing consisted mostly of glorified walking with some light hand clapping. My suggestion? Get rid of Lil' Mama and bring in Betty White in Left Eye's place. You guys will look young and flexible as hell.
#8 -- My favorite performer of the night was a CGI cat crying diamond tears into a spider web. And for the record, I totally would have scooped up that two-piece leotard if I made a cat dancing workout video in 1992.
P.S. If flared(ish) capri pants are making a comeback, I'm not sure I can be of this planet anymore.
Lady Gaga was apparently on SNL this weekend, and one of the songs she performed was "Do What U Want," which happens to feature the illustrious R. Kelly. Full disclosure -- I like this song, and really most songs on L.G.'s new album. I also, on occasion, think about R. Kelly's life (What can I say, I love the remix to "Ignition," but hate the original "Ignition."), and what he's been up to since all that peeing on minors business.
Clearly, what the Kells has been up to is awkward ass choreography to his duet with Gaga. And weird pantsuits. Seriously, these two have the sexual tension of a three day old tuna salad sandwich and a room temperature glass of milk. 'Tis not getting hot in hurrr, you guys.
I totally know where Gaga got the inspiration for this performance.
Buzzfeed alerted me to the existence of this amazing dude named Chris Koo, doing an "eff, yes" version of Beyoncé's "Crazy In Love." I'm not even close to what you would call a Beyoncé fan, but baby boo just slayed that sh*t, solid. I'm not sure if young Chris Koo's (hot name, BTW) body even contains normal humanoid bones, or if they're made of Billy Cosby-sponsored Jello.
I'm also lucky that I don't currently own a Flowbee, or I would be attaching that sh*t to my vacuum immediately and putting the "flouncy, bouncy bowl cut" setting on my mop.
Here's the O.G. (AKA boring, vanilla soft serve sans sprinkles version with 100% less Chris Koo) version, if you need a refresher. I'm off to get a straw for my super sized non-haterade, because I love this guy.
WARNING: P uses her baby voice to breathe the f-word (and Lil' Wayne's must-need-the-money's ass says it a couple times, too) in this joint, just in case you're watching this in court or something.
Wait. Am I on a spaceship that is forcing me to relive circa 2003? If so, let my ass off, you alien dicks, because I can't live through that sh*t again. You know what else I can't handle? A mothereffing resurgence of Paris Hilton in pop culture and/or music. PP Face and I are the same age, so her ass should know -- WE ARE TOO OLD FOR THIS BULLSH*T, HOMIE.
This whole thing looks and sounds exactly like something from a Real Housewife. She and Luann de Lesseps must have gone halfsies on an autotuner and she has current custody. P.S. When your autotune is still out-of-tune, hang up your bedazzled monokini, sister.
But you know who I'm really pissed at? Lil' Wayne. Sir, you should f*cking know better than to encourage this mess. Are there tough times in the Wayne abode? Are you being forced into extreme couponing situations? I would rather you pick up some extra shifts at a mall flat iron kiosk than work on a Paris Hilton song, pal. I expected more from you, Lil'.
I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed. Now, go to your damn room.
Yep, that Corey. He apparently has a new music video, called "Ascension Millennium," in which he looks to be reprising his role in The Lost Boys, because homeboy is looking undead lite. Keep eating those pancakes and maybe up your Flintstones Vitamins intake, boss, because you are looking a bit like a tepid glass of tap water. I feel concern in my cold, dead heart.
I am feeling those baby gloves, though. I just wish that Corey's music video made me get more of this kind of vibe from The Lost Boys.
Tell me you're not hypnotized by that oil field of a chest/Home Depot chain combo. It will be a damn lie.
Speaking of my old school people, Melissa Joan Hart, who I will always see as this literal hot mess in my mind:
Is coming out with a tell-all book entitled, Melissa Explains It All. (See what she did there?) This serious piece of literature is not, sadly, about how to make a ball gown from strawberry-flavored Fruit Roll Ups (I would totally read that sh*t), but about her "wild" lifestyle in the late 90's. According to Life & Style, Melissa said, “I experimented with weed, Ecstasy, mushrooms and mescaline for about a year and a half. " She also said that she made out with a girl in a limo, or something.
Boring. Holla back when you're ready to say that you made out with Salem the cat from Sabrina the Teenaged Witch. Or that you did bath salts with that dude that climbed through the Clarissa window, or something.
Step up your game, old people. You're making us look super non-scandalous.
As my breaking heart noticed the other night, Brit Brit was nowhere to be found at the VMAs this year. With JT pretty much posted up in that b*tch for 17 hrs on stage, I couldn't help but think of the world's most perfect moment that the public has ever witnessed, which happened to occur at the VMAs.
The only logical place -- Tony Roma's. And wearing this beautiful outfit, which is really only suited to cleaning out the garage. This is totally an outfit created from lost and found items you'd have to wear if you forgot your P.E. clothes in middle school. C'mon, Brit.
How's it been going for your asses lately? I'm pretty well-outside your target demographic, so I don't usually watch your sh*t much, anymore. (Except Catfish. Get Slow Clap from last night's episode his own True Life, immediately.) But I did DVR the VMAs to see if there was anything that my old ass gave one f*ck about, and here's what I noticed.
Every b*tch on the block is super up-in-arms over Miley Cyrus' "risque" performance, to which I say, mullet, please. Homegirl is 20 YEARS OLD. Do you know what my trash bag ass would have been doing on a stage at this age? Thank you, universe, for no cell phone cameras in the early 00's, or I would have proof of my skank antics. I'm not impressed.
I do have two issues with Miley, as of late. First, I know that I'm as old as sh*t, but what's with the tongue thing? You have a long tongue area. Yay?
Boo Boo Thang thinks she can dance. And you, MTV VMAs, are encouraging that effery. Listen, Miley seems like a nice enough, albeit kind of annoying, young lady. But I have f*cking had quite enough of this world collectively pretending like this baby Pinocchio can twerk. It's not good, Miley.
By this time, I'm sure you've seen Rih Rih's (and her friend that looks like Monica circa '99) unimpressed c-face over Miley's performance. But, here's the best reaction from the crowd:
I feel you, sir. It's all very, very confusing. Let's move on.
Next, I need to holla at the costume department, because you guys need to get your sh*t together. Most of the "older" (Heeeey, dudes my age. Whaddup?) guys' clothes were WAY TOO F*CKING TIGHT and unflattering. We ain't in our 20's anymore, Robin, and stretchy suits only stretch so much. Lycra isn't a damn miracle worker.
Then the angel of my heart, and the star of the VMAs showed up, right in the middle of JT's 2 hour long concert.
No, not all of 'N Sync. (By the way, can we talk about what an awful name 'N Sync is for a boy band? It's the cheesiest. Sorry, Kraft Mac 'n Cheese.)
I'm talking about this magnificent unicorn:
Chris Kirkpatrick, in all of his ill-fitting suit glory. (RIP, multicolored Chris Kirkpatrick braids. My weave wept for your passing.)
I mean, look how OUT OF SYNC he is with his dance moves. IT'S EFFING ADORABLE.
And his "super try hard" face. Or, it could have been his pants ripping, because like I said...
Sh*t was tight last night in the mens' suit department. But the best second of the night was this moment:
K-Pat's all like, "Damn, I don't know if my nearing-middle-aged ass can keep dancing. ARRRGGHHHA. What's next? 'Bye Bye Bye' hands?" And then JT's like, "Are you serious, man? It's 30 seconds. Try mall walking on Sundays, or something, dude." NIGHT OVER.
So, listen, MTV. Just let Chris Kirkpatrick come out with a dance show, or some sh*t. But let the man's suit out a damn inch or two.
P.S. This sh*t was awkward for all, JC.
Your singing portion was over, time to take a seat. Stop trying to make a solo happen. This isn't an episode of Glee.