Sunday, February 22, 2009

HANG me OVER a bridge and push

Ok, can I be honest for a sec? Good, honesty to come in 3,2,1...

I may still be tipsy from last night this morning, maybe it's because when you throw up it affects you in the same way it did going down? Doesn't matter, point is I am sick and it's all my fault and I'm never drinking again...blah blah blah.

This is hopefully an old skool-ish blog for y'all about nothing and everything and nothing all over again.

10. All the windows are open and it's February
9. The house is a MESS
8. More dishes in the sink than in the cupboards.
7. The hair in the shower drain could pass as a small redheaded animal
6. Garbage out on the deck is hazardous to humans and animals alike. I may be fined soon.
5. I stayed out past 10 pm last night.
4. Lots of uninterrupted internet time
3. Reality shows for 4 days
2. Same clothes I was wearing Thursday
1. Britney CD has been on repeat 24/7 since I dropped her at the airport!

So it may seem like she's controlling and doesn't let me live my life as I want to...

yep, that's it.

She will be back today, which means I have to muster up enough sobriety and stomach control to go get her from the airport. I guess it's do-able, seeing as she makes the car payments and allows me to live my messy life in the Civic.

Can I just make a shout-out right now? Mind you, I realize I am immature and a total dork, but think of it this way: the girl is a year and a half younger than me! (yes, I know this). I am, of course, speaking of Miss Brit Brit, aka Britney Spears. She is amazing, y'all, and I don't use that word all too often. Ok, usually only about really good nachos, but never about people. People have nothing on nachos. (Did I really just write that? Yes I did.) I have heard her CD now at least 30 times on repeat since January and I'm totally sold. Totally. Sold. At first I wasn't impressed, thought they all sounded the same, but now I can tell them apart as if they were my very own octuplets that I couldn't afford but loved with all the crazy in my heart. I guess that pretty much explains how I feel about B. Spears. She is my hero. (I wrote "herp" by accident first. Freudian slip?) I will see her in April and I am very tempted to go to the concert either donning the old skool "Baby one more time" outfit or the new "Circus" ringleader costume. Either way, there'll be pics. So what if just me and my gay male friends are into her. We're talkin guys who taught me to apply bronzer and who can always tell when I'm on my period. That's love.

Point: listen to her CD. (or don't. I'll just die a slow, sad death)

Another thing I desperately want to promote: Twilight. Again, I know, I have the mind of a preteen with the boobs of a woman, but I neeeeed you to read this. And this isn't the same as the Brit CD, that I just want you to hear it cuz I love it and I secretly know none of you will fall for it (hey, did I just say that?? regardless--LISTEN TO BRITNEY!) No, you need to read these books. You need to see the movie. Twice. Like me. With plans to see it for a third time in the theaters before it goes to DVD, which you will buy the moment it goes on sale, no matter what the asking price. You, at first, will not want to make it the whole way through the first book, but at some point it will hit you and you will be in love. And by in love I don't mean you will wish you were a vampire and give anything and everything to actually meet Edward and make him yours and live happily ever after as the love of a vampires life. That's my job.
P.S. I make sure that I know where Robert Pattinson is at all times. This week he is in L.A. Soon enough he'll be in Vancouver filming. I will be close by with a camera and a vial of my own blood (as a gift to him, of course). Angelina style.

Was it really worth it?

Was she everything that you were looking for

To feel like a man?

I hope you know that you can’t come back

Cause all we had is broken like Shattered Glass.

You’re gonna see me in your dreams tonight

My face is gonna haunt you all the time

I promise that you gon’ want me back

When your world falls apart like shattered glass

Come on! Brilliance! Where was this song 5 years ago?!! Don't you wanna go through this JUST TO DEDICATE THIS SONG TO SOMEONE?? Fine, me neither, but it would be super cool.

Ok, last shameless plug, and this one is for those of you who like GOOD music, and by that I mean it's far from Britney. It's actual brilliance and this woman is amazing (like nachos) and talented and beautiful and I saw her live this year and wanted to go have a beer with her after and have her sing me to sleep (as I laid on the bed, she on the floor). Her name is Rachel Yamagata. Don't let the name hold you back. A-mazing. "Sunday Afternoon" is my new fav song right now. She's like Tori Amos sounding, except you don't have to try to figure out what the fuck her lyrics could possibly mean. She has real songs and real stories and if you've ever been hurt, you'll totally relate to her like Whoa. I would follow her around the country if I were rich and slightly tapped.

I would like to thank Jenna W-H for letting me rip a fence down yesterday and use my muscles and tools, and for the juicy and delicious chicken sandwich she rewarded me with. It was a fun end to my weekend alone. Smashing things just makes you feel alive and necessary and a little dangerous. Now I know why rockstars tear hotel rooms to shit. Any aggression I had is now gone, and left to the wood panels I hacked away at and then threw to the wayside. Like an old, worthless lover. Except I've never hit a lover with a crowbar. Yet.

Wow, I've been sitting here an hour tick tick ticking away at the keyboard and I feel I've accomplished nothing. Maybe I'll start a monthly newsletter to catch everyone (the three of you who care) up on the comings and goings of my life out here on the West Coast.
Would you read it? (circle yes or no)

I must go now, for the sole purpose of vomiting again. TMI, I know, but I need someone to suffer with. Misery loves company, after all. And stomach bile especially loves others to be present when it rears its ugly yellow head.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Where have all the Grammys gone?

I'll tell you where, to some place in cyberspace where it's quicker to see who won and there's less "get off the stage, time's up" music to have to answer to. "We must cut down on the showtime (just under 4 hours) so let's GET RID OF THE AWARDS AND MAKE IT A CONCERT!" More on this later...

This year's Grammy recap begins where all Grammy's, not the mold they're made from, though speaking of mold (and molds), our opening performer is not only old, but he is one of a kind. I of course mean the smashing performance by none other than U2. Led by that adorable little Bono (it's Bahn-o, not BONE-O! Don't make me giggle), who I am happy to see is still able to jump around like the 50-something he was back in the 80's. We can all see where they have gone with this performance: in Ozzy-mumbling style, Bono is starting to age (or get lazy) and it makes for a difficult time understanding his lyrics. Think fast! Let's put the lyrics up behind him! He'll never know, I promise, he'll just see the audience singing every word and be pleased as Irish Whiskey Punch. Let me just say, grandpa never looked so chic...and his eyes! He has revealed his eyes and they're...well...adorned with eyeliner? Hmm, who knew that this whole time he has been hiding this sucidal-angst-ridden-emo-teen persona...

WHitnayyyyyyyyyy! Hey grrrrrrrrllll, wha's up!? Looks like miss thang 86'd Bobby and cocaine, subbed 25 lbs and a new stylist and came up with voila! Perfection. Seems good all around, except maybe for her out-of-work dealer. And btw, Whit, get off of Clive "He's still Alive?" Davis's jock...
Best R&B Album: Of course they had to give it to Jennifer Hudson. Haven't heard the album, so I can't say if it is even warranted, but her acceptance had to make you a little teary-eyed. "My family down here, and in Heaven..."
The, sorry, Dwayne Johnson. Yeah, apparently that's his real name. I'm sorry, but if you've seen his movies or listened to him chirp like a school girl, you will agree that he is still affected, still cheesy, and still useless, except in a Speedo and grease.

Justin Mothaf'in Timberlake (he likes when I call him that)! Nice zoot suit, J.T. Here he is pretending to love soul music because he's from Memphis. He brings out Al Green to do a duet. Sorry, dude, up until Justin sang his verse, you were the shit. Now, not so much. Now I'm not hating on the legendary Mr. Green, but I just realized that he doesn't have the lung capacity for a full song anymore, thus, cue Timberlake. Funny how they introduced 4 different musical acts/artists for this performance, what a load that was. Keith Urban=on backup guitar (for 3 seconds on camera, amp not even plugged in) and Boys II Men? What? Whe...oh. The backup singers. Oh yeah, now I recognize the heavy one. That was a cruel trick you played on them, Grammys. But touche.

Coldplay. They always announce Coldplay and then you see...Chris Martin. Yes, I know he's the lead singer, but what must the rest of the band think? "Ok guys, here we go, big Grammy moment! What? Wait here? Oh, they're not ready? Well what's wrong with the piano? Ok, hey guys, just one second, Chris has to fix something {piano begins} Doh! They got us again!" And Jay-Z? For a split second I thought there'd be an uncomfortable moment when Chris would gesture to a stage hand and someone would have to tell Jiggaman, "Yo, dude, you're not on yet. Stop rapping in the middle of, I mean, Chris Martin's song." Shortly after the accidental rap solo, we finally see the band (their eyes are red, yes. You can see they've been crying...) in all their "Beatle's getup" glory (p.s. before C.M. apologized to Sir McC. for the ripoff of Sgt. Pepper's, I noted the similarity. Just for the record). Oh Chris, sweetie, no. Gwyneth and the Queen may like your exposed, furry happy trail, but we as Americans don't. And we as Americans know all so pull down your shirt--no, come on--further! Good British lad. Thank you.

Keith "I married up" Urban. Look, Nicole, he's dressed and sober! That's all I really have for him.
Donia: "He's British!?"
Leah: "He's Australian. Boy, you really have a hard time with that one*, don't you?"
*she's infamous for mixing up the accents.

Carrie Underwood is revealed and what do we see? Another beautiful flowing dress, legs I'd give my right arm for (but then, what good would the legs do me?), and perfect "just jumped off the back of my hot boyfriend's motorcycle after our hot sex" hair. And what is this? She's singing a song about being slutty. Check and check.
Nash: "She's the cat's meow, mommy"
Leah: "Keep it in your pants, little one"
Oh and p.s., Carrie: Watch out for the low-Grammy-cam-upskirt shot. All the men sure are {wink}.

Here's one for you, mom. SUGARLAND WINS! I know you like them so congrats. I heard the 10 sec clip of their song and I may be teary-eyed. Wait, no...just salsa in my eye. So close...

Song of the Year: Wow! This is like the second award in like, 45 minutes! Just barrelin through, aren't we?! I'm rooting for Jason Mraz cuz he's the only one who sat down and wrote his song all by himself. Wait for it, wait for it...Coldplay! Surprise fucking* surprise.
*It's for reasons like this that I graced you with the Sugarland shoutout, ma.

Kid Rock comes out in all his trailer park glory and I am about to trash him, still wanna, but I can't help but love the politically charged lyrics of the song "Amen". Guess I can always count on him for blunt honesty {cue mugshot pic}. Oh, I spoke too soon, here's the trashtastic "Sweet Home Alamama" knockoff shit. Like clockwork.
Donia: "Remember when he first came out, I thought he was some trashy old guy"
Leah: "He was. He still is."

Taylor and Miley sit stool to stool on the middle stage. They perform a song about how hard it is to be "15". Hm, Miley, you must have left out how hard it is to be 15 and not have sexy pics of you leaked by your fake boyfriends that your dad allows down in your room because you're way too famous for supervision. And Tay, you forgot the verse about how hard it was to have that plastic surgery performed by magical elves to make you go from your real age of 35 to 15. My interpretation of this performance is that they are like the angel and the devil doing a duet; only the devil is a pretentious cocktease and the angel has no life behind her dead, heavily made-up eyes.

Robert Plante? Or is that Willy Wonka in leather and heavy metal rockstar curls?
{scratches head}

J. Hud again. Fitting song. Refuse to mock her wardrobe choice in any way for fear of Hell.

AAAAAAuuuuuugggggggggggggHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! {high pitched scream, of course} THE JOOOOONAAASSSS BROTHHHEEEEERRRS! AAAAAUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH {frightened pitch this time} STEVIEEEEEE WONDERRRR! Wait, what? What have you done, Grammys? The man has written hundreds of songs over the last 40 years of a magnificent career and he just uttered the chorus to "Burnin Up"?

{sly laugh} Genius.

In an off-color sidenote: Joe Jonas {aka "the cute one"} was overheard saying (of Mr. Wonder) to his brothers {aka "the other cute one" and "the less than stellar" one}, "Yeah, he's pretty cool, but he looks like a total douche trying to pull off the whole I'm-so-cool-in-sunglasses-indoors thing. That's so 2008".

Coldplay AGAIN! I can't decide on their new name: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band of Hobo Gay Men or just Teletubbies 2.

Katy Perry...let me tell you who's not proud right about now: her parents, her pastor, her singing coach, her stylist (whom she deceived when she went behind his back to wear fruit), lesbians, her hair stylist, me. She is awful at performing, as evident by the senseless jumping and mediocre-at-best dancing. Fruit, sticky, sweet, we get it. You're a whore. Who is proud right now? The Grammys (though they should'nt be) and her ex bf (for taking out the trash when he did).

Kanye and Estelle come out, middle stage again, and perform their not awful/not great hit "American Boy". I thought she was fantastic, and well, you can't really mess up rapping as long as you're 30% sober, so he was good too. What was not good? Her paper mache dress and well, if I have to say this then you're a dumbass: Kanye's whole being. Get a side by side clip of Kanye tonight and Michael Jackson at the Grammys circa 1984 and you'll have to look for Michael's discolored skin patches to tell them apart. Does this mean that in 20 years Kanye will be accused of and tried for child molestation??!! HIStory repeats itself (and is also one of my fav MJ albums).

"Hey Kanye, Michael called. He wants his clothes and hair back so he doesn't have to run around in jammie pants and a surgical mask anymore. Oh, sorry, I didn't know you purchased those at the Neverland Ranch estate sale along with Bubbles and the llama. We were wondering where those two ran off too..."

Morgan Freeman comes out and says he's friends with Kenny Chesney. I have to break it to you that THERE IS NO WAY THEY ARE FRIENDS, that's just what the teleprompter said.

***Country performance=bathroom break.***

Oh Lord Jesus, no. Herbie Hancock is back!
Ooh, no performance. Close call.

I wonder if Queen Latifah cried a little bit inside when she had to say "The Rap Pack" so convincingly. She's classy enough to know that it was STUPID, I just know she is (she was in "Chicago" for Christ's sake! And that cancels out "Taxi" and "Bringin Down the House", trust me). I also wonder if Sammy, Dean, Frank and the other guy all turned over in their graves when such a comparison was made. I know I did (what?)
So let's analyze this ensemble cast of characters, shall we?

M.I.A.: Really, M.I.A., really? Today is your due date, yet you insist on running around, girating your birthing hips, and squatting with your legs open in gangsta stance, or as I call it, "Holy shit, the baby's gonna fall out!" stance. And you get up there with these clowns? I love em all, but they're clowns in the sense that none of them like to get dirty and I guarantee none of them were even in the same state as their baby mommas when they were poppin out slimy, amniotic fluid covered kids. They will run screaming should your water break, and you'll be left to your own devices, as well as the devices of the front row of screaming preteen Hannah Montana fans. Good luck. Oh, and because you're so maternally disabled right now, I won't mentioned that just before you turned around to welcome the guys in, you lipsynced the wrong verse to your song. Mums the word. {wink}

"Hey Kanye, yeah, Michael called back. Since you won't be returning his things, he's like to know if you would serve as his decoy when he's out in public to hide his withering face from the paparazzi, babysit his kids (they'll never know the difference, we'll say you have a "tan"), and/or play him in a new biopic about his life. Or, should I say a biopic he wrote leaving out all the weird stuff and making him look really cool still. Just have your agent call my agent".
I think I heard Kanye throw a straight up hissy about how he wanted to do his part alone on stage while the other guys waited in the wings. Doesn't like to share anything, that one...

Lil Wayne: Our first sight of him tonight, and you know I'm gonna be biased, but he was the best rapper and the cutest dressed. And the prettiest and the shiniest and he smelled the best. And he was the highest, with the most warrants in the most states. I <3 him.

T.I.: not a huge fan, not so impressed with his performance, and definitely not impressed with the fact that he couldn't even get his momma to do up his bowtie (sorry, Donia)

Jay-Z: Now it's your turn, man. Next time, listen closer to your wife when she's barking orders at you. She didn't say GO! she said NO! Don't make Beyonce beat you!*

One last thing, do you think these guys were as freaked out about M.I.A.'s bumble bee outfit as the rest of the audience? Silly brits and their silly outfits. Yes, Coldplay, I'm still looking at you...

Beautiful beautiful Kate Beckinsale, what I wouldn't give to look like you for a day. Oh, wait, nevermind. What was the hike you just did to your falling down dress. It's the same mindless hike up you see a drunk promgoer do to her dress when her strapless bra is making its way down to her waist because she's so sweaty from the ecstasy and the dancing with the hormone-riddled boys. Classy. Next time, risk the wardrobe malfunction and wait til you get backstage.

Next, Sir Paul McCartney {said in my best British accent} comes out with Dave Grohl. Now let me ask you this: is S.P.McC. really amazing, or is he amazing because he is the only Beatle left standing (I know, I know, but Ringo doesn't count). I'll let you chew on that for a little while.
And in other news, I miss Nirvana.

Hey, look at this, another award, this time for Best Male Pop Vocal. This one goes to JOHN MAYER, who I not only love for his music, but his humor and wit. (Youtube "John Mayer and Ellen sing Just Dance. Hi-larious!). I'd like to thank Bailey for turning me on to John way back when I was so against him. And for the free tickets to his concert. I'd also like to thank God for letting John be born, and to Jen Aniston who keeps him in line and sexed up, so as his fans may enjoy him all the more.

Sugarland and Adele did a dual performance, which meant Sugarland got their own spot for a full song, and Adele got to sing the chorus to her song and have Sugar (of Sugarland) sing backup. Aaaah, there's just too many "Amy Winehouse, but fatter" jokes, so little time.

**At this point I see that only J.T./T.I., Robert Plante and Alison Krauss, Radiohead and Neil Diamond are left to perform. Besides the first one, I'm finding it hard to hang on here. I've endured many hours of these shenanigans at this point, and they certainly didn't seem to save the best for last. I can't quit now, though, not when I owe it to my 3 fans to write them a complete blog, and not when I owe to myself for enduring such painful TV. I've put blood, sweat, and tears into this (srsly, though, I did. I got a papercut taking the original blog notes, Donia turned the heat WAY too high up, and, well, you remember the salsa incident.). I will press on...

Radiohead: I just don't get them. I mean, did I miss the window on them or something? I've always wished I was a fan, but I really don't see what people see in them. At this point I figure you can't teach an old dog new tricks. I am the dog; Radiohead is the "Roll over" I'll never get...

**NEWSFLASH: It was just speculated that Lil Wayne will come out and perform again! I knew one performance couldn't be it, he was just too good this year. I won't get my hopes up too much, though; this show has been going on a long time now. He had to have taken a smoke break by now, and depending on how much he ingested, he may forget to rap at all. I foresee him sitting in the middle of the stage, staring at his shiny shoes, an awkward silence in the crowd while he's dragged offstage by security. All the while giggling...

J.T.: If you propose to me, I promise, like the song says, "the old me will be dead and gone", and we can live a life of happiness and sex(yback) in your big mansion.
T.I.: If you propose, I promise to say yes strictly based on fear. I know about the gun charges...

Of course Obama has a Grammy. Why wouldn't he? All you musicians out there bust your asses for a lifetime in the hopes of receiving an esteemed award, and all he has to do is waltz in and SPEAK NORMALLY and he wins. He probably didn't even write the speech he read. Malia did. I guess it's a sectet shout-out to all those rappers in the audience who single handedly got him elected. No, really, they did. Just ask Diddy yourself.
So now little douchybag Grammy man goes on to say "Yes We Can" 5 times in his poorly written speech. The context that it is used not only is ridiculous, it is irrelevant to the show, and life. If he had any pride he'd go out back and shoot himself for the fool he has made of the Grammys at
But before he offs himself, he pleads to Obama (who must owe him, he gave him a Grammy, afterall) to appoint a Secretary of the Arts. A what? Fine, I'm on board, but if the nominee is not Suge Knight, with Elton John as his successor when he f's up and kills someone (again), then I'm not voting.

Smokey Robinson? Again? Didn't I rant about him and his unnecessary presence last year. Just refer to that if necessary.

Now they're really reaching! Ne-Yo, Jamie Foxx, Smokey and the only living original member of the 4 Tops? This guy does look like he's having the time of his life, but unfortunately he has no idea who these 2 "youngins" next to him are. He also has no idea why that guy that looks like his old friend Smokey Robinson also sort of looks like he's undergone too many cosmetic surgery procedures for his own good. Maybe that's cuz he has, old fella.... I was happy to see him having a good time, though, and I hope it made him think of his other 3 Tops...

Neil Diamond, sir, though I love rockin out to your biggest hits at hole-in-the-wall bars, you're losin steam. I appreciate all you've done for rock and roll, and for the young boys in the 70's who lost their virginity to your songs, but it may be time to buy a ranch and feed your horses and chickens now. This brings me to an idea I have for idiot-head Grammy guy: an oldie after-party. It will be only a half hour long, serve punch and antacids, and the performer will sing "im a little teapot" cuz its a short song and its easy to remember the lyrics. And hey, if Hef decides he'd like to throw it, it could be sponsored by Viagra and there could be free samples at every place setting. Sorry, Bono, you've been bumped to this party starting now. I'm putting you between Herbie and Stevie.

**Now it's 11 and I'm really dwindling. According to my calculations, Weezy is all that's left. Did we even see a half a dozen awards given away? I mean, I love the performances, but come on now...8 of them could have been cut out (thus starting the oldies after party earlier and extending it another 45 minutes, ooh!) and it would have been a good show still.

Here he is, the moment I've been waiting for. And though I'm glad he's not doing "Mrs. Officer", and sad he's not doing "A-Milli", I enjoyed this performance so much! I knew he couldn't just have one verse of performance in this whole show! Too good. The song he is doing is a tribute to New Orleans, and I'm sure the negotiations for this performance went something like this:
Genius Grammy Coordinators: "So, we're thinking edgy, hip, gansta, girls with booties and guys in bandanas throwin up gang signs.
Wayne: "No. New Orleans tribute."
GGC: "You know, Mr. Weezy, sir, that's not really the direction we were go..."
Wayne:" New Orleans. Or nothing".
GGC: {nervous laughter} "Well you know, contractually you have to appear..."
Wayne: " New Orleans, Robin Thicke, Alan Tucson, and a 5 man N.O. jumbalaya band, or else I don't give up my gun at security. Again."
GGC: "New Orleans it is."
{pistol whips them with his gun anyway, for good measure}

As we give out the second to last (4th?) Grammy of the night, we see that our presenters are Will.I.Am and T-Pain, who apparently decided before they came out to play the game "Let's see who can dress more ridiculous!!??" Congrats, guys, you both win. An Old Navy gift card. Now run along and buy something presentable.
They announce the winner for best rap album and let me tell you, I'll admit that was a tough category. No one's album sucked. But of course, the best man-boy (Wayne) won and ran out from backstage to receive his award, while his entire family simultaneously rushed the stage to stand next to him. He hugged his daughter, who is not only already almost the same height as him at 10, but they're in the same grade in school. He was adorable and excited and kept it short and sweet. Just what I like to see at damn 11:00 at night! {Man, this never ends!}

G-damn all that is holy, I forgot about a performance by Robert Plante and Ms. Krauss! F this stupid G-d forsaken night! I'm definitely napping during this...
Am I DREAMING!!?? Is that Green Day?? Why can't I wake up right now??!! This is a nightmare because they're not performing a track from Dookie! I also dreamed that Album of the Year went to Alison and Robert and not my boy. And he was so frightening and she had such a freakishly small waist! My God, this is the worst dream EVER!

SHIT. It's all real. The whole night has been real. What is my life coming to?

This night is crap and so are these awards. Wayne, get your gun...

P.s. Stevie, we don't need you to close us out with a song. You may not know it, but people filed out of here like it was on fire. No, it's not on fire, you're safe, but you need to get to the oldies party before all the easy-to-eat pureed food is gone. Hurry!

I'd like to thank my sponsors (my mom, myspace, and, when my status is updated, Facebook) and all those who had not much else to do and read this for the pure amusement of saying "So this girl I know/used to know, she blogs! Yeah, I know, what a loser, right!"