Kimopolis

My kind of town.

Archive for March, 2009

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Why Katherine Heigl (and her GBF, TR Knight) Can Kiss the Fattest Part of My Ass

Posted by kimlno on March 29, 2009

WARNING: The following is intended for mature audiences only, and may contain profanity, racial slurs, and/or opinions that may not jibe with your personal ethos. Proceed with caution.

Is it just me, or does she look like evil personified?

Is it just me, or does she look like evil personified?

The first time I saw Katherine Heigl was in a film called That Knight (actually, it’s “night” and that’s typo, but I think I’ll just leave it there). She wasn’t the star of the movie, but she was in a pivotal scene where she and her pre-pubescent friends applied copious amounts of “Breast Enhancement Cream” on their flat chests. I don’t know what was in that cream, but it totally worked. She now has one of the biggest natural racks in Hollywood, next to Susan Sarandon.

The next time our paths crossed, she played one of three alien siblings living amongst us in Roswell. I watched the show pretty religiously but, as all good TV series eventually do, in season three it jumped the shark when Katherine, whose character was named “Isabel” oddly enough, married some random Hispanic dude named “Jesse” (who, coincidentally, is now a regular on CSI: Miami along with David Caruso…this will prove interesting in a few paragraphs, trust me). If the show had managed to stay focused on the original central character, played by Jason Behr, instead of wasting everybody’s time with the stupid “Isabel” storyline, the series would have lasted much longer. Believe me, it wouldn’t be the last time Kate ruined a perfectly good series portraying a character nicknamed “Izzie.”

In 2005, Heigl joined the cast of Grey’s Anatomy. She was cast as the “hooker-with-the-heart-of-gold” character, “Isobel Stevens,” but instead of a hooker, she was a trailer-trash born-and-bred former lingerie model whose provocative catalog spreads (no pun intended) paid her way through medical school so she could achieve her lifelong dream of becoming a surgeon. Yeah, because that happens in real life ALL the time. It was here where Katie met her new bestest friend, and co-conspirator, TR Knight (see? the typo is funny now, right?).  Soon all of America couldn’t get enough of “George and Izzie” and their best-friends-who-really-want-to-have-sex-with-each-other-but-never-admit-to-it storyline. What’s that they say about life imitating art? Or is it the other way around?

Although she would never own up to it, to Kate, TR is really nothing more than a Gay-ccessory. Much like Paris Hilton’s beloved Tinkerbelle, TR is the human equivalent of a really nice scarf, or belt. When Kate was having a “I-Have-Nothing-To-Wear Day,” a la Cher Horowitz (and, yes, I STILL want those revolving dry cleaners racks in my closet, too), TR had the misfortune of showing up and helping her with her fashion emergency. It was at this point, I assume, that Kate looked in the mirror and realized that the perfect accessory, one that would really bring the look together, was standing right beside her. From then on, Kate and TR have been inseparable. They even share a brain. No matter what ludicrous plan that kooky Katie comes up with, TR just nods his head as if to say, “Yeah, what she said goes for me, too.” It’s so pathetic, I actually kind feel bad for the little guy (no, not really).

In January of ’07, scandal broke out on the set when Isaiah Washington called TR a “faggot.” How DARE he! To be fair, TR had not publically announced his sexual preferences, but everyone knew. It was like when Clay Aiken finally came out of the closet, not a huge shocker. You’re gay? NO. Really? I would’ve never guessed in a million years!*

In response to this egregious gay bashing, TR hid behind Kate as she gave Isaiah a real tongue-lashing in the press. “I’m going to be really honest right now, [Isaiah] needs to just not speak in public. Period,” she proclaimed. “I’m sorry, that did not need to be said, I’m not okay with it.” Oooh, SNAP, girl. You showed him! I don’t know how he ever recovered from that! But then the strangest thing happened, Mr. Washington mysteriously disappeared from the show, never to be heard from again.

Holy shit. Maybe I had underestimated Katie’s powers. Is it possible that she not only got his black ass fired, but also ruined his entire career? Just because he called her BGF a NAME? A completely accurate and not even really THAT offensive name? TR IS a faggot. I’m sure he prefers to be called “gay” but either way the dude likes to have sex with other dudes. Now, this is unconfirmed, but apparently in retort TR called Isaiah a…um…well, it rhymes with “jigger.” Now, THAT is uncalled for. Unless you are a black man (or woman), it is NEVER okay to use the derogatory term that rhymes with “jigger.” NEVER EVER.

So, here’s what I don’t get: how come Shonda Rimes 86′d Washington and not Knight? At this point in their respective careers, Washington was BY FAR the bigger star. All Knight had on his resume was some off, off, off, off-Broadway credits and a Mentos commercial (okay, I made the part up about the Mentos commercial, but it made you giggle, no?). The only reason I can think of, is that Gorilla Glue bond between TR and Kate. For Shonda, the choice was to lose one actor who none of the viewers particularly cared for anyway, or lose TWO actors who were hands down the audience favorites. Hasta la vista, Washington. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

With the threat of the evil black man no longer an issue, Kate focused her attention on a much more pressing matter: her salary. In March of 2007, not even 3 months after the Washington Incident, Little Miss Troublemaker suddenly dropped out of contract negotiations for the upcoming season. Wasn’t it enough that you took away one man’s livelihood? Now you’re going to make the entire cast and crew suffer because you are a spoiled brat? Yep. And can you, dear reader, guess who was whispering, “I’m with you” and propping her up from behind?!?

So, ABC threw a bunch of money at those squeaky wheels, and for a little while, all was quiet. Kate was off making movies and TR was out, literally, finding himself a new boyfriend. Next thing you know, Kate gets an Emmy. Whoopee. If you think that little electroplated statuette is going to stop this bitch from making it “all about her” every chance she gets, then you’re sorely mistaken. Because sometime between winning the Emmy and going on to possibly win her next Emmy, the bitch completely lost her fuckin’ mind.

Get this, she pulled herself out of the “Emmy Race” (I had no idea they had to run in those couture gowns and heels…that’s gotta be rough). Kate told the media, “I did not feel that I was given the material this season to warrant an Emmy nomination and in an effort to maintain the integrity of the academy organization, I withdrew my name from contention.” Integrity? What does this bitch know about integrity? But, wait. There’s more. “In addition, I did not want to potentially take away an opportunity from an actress who was given such materials.” Dang, girl. You just BURNED, nay CRUCIFIED the people who write your scripts. I know that they may have given you some less than memorable scenes in season four (including one where she tries to save the life of a deer in a pick-up truck in the hospital parking lot, and no, I didn’t make that up), but you don’t really want to mess with the people who control the fate of your character…do you? That’s just plain stupid. And it kinda makes you look like a royal bitch.

Luckily for you, the writers went on strike, and nobody was writing anything for anyone. By the time that debacle was over (please, God, don’t let there be another writer’s strike…I don’t think I can take another season of Jericho), the writers were so happy to still have jobs they conveniently forgot about Kate’s little barb.

Things got quiet again, and that just means Katie is planning something big. Next thing you know, word gets out (James Pickens needs to learn how to keep a secret) that not only is Miss High and Mighty leaving the show, but she’s taking her gay-ccessory with her. Two words: DAVID CARUSO. If nothing else, learn from other people’s mistakes. It took Caruso EIGHT LONG YEARS of unemployment to find himself another steady paying gig. And he has the distinct advantage of being a male. No matter how old, fat, or unattractive he may have become in those years lived in obscurity, he could still manage to land a leading man role. Don’t believe me? Look at William Peterson. James Spader. William Shatner, for crying out loud. In Hollywood, men are allowed to age (as long as they don’t go bald). Women, on the other hand, are not. Kat is just a pretty blonde with big tits who, in eight years time, will be a haggard old bag that nobody will touch with a ten-foot pole, especially in the era of High Definition programming. Plus, she SMOKES. That means she’s going to age twice as quickly, not to mention twice as badly, than her contemporaries. Now, who in their right mind would hire an unattractive, over-the-hill, fussy bitch who most likely wouldn’t agree to any contract that didn’t include a role for her GBF? *crickets chirping* That’s right, sweetheart, NO ONE.

Which leads us to today’s headline: “Heigl Says She’ll Stay if ‘Grey’s’ Will Have Her.” Oh how very MAGNANIMOUS of you, Kate. Earlier today she announced, “I’m more than happy to make that compromise. As my agent likes to say, ‘High-class problems.’ I don’t know if I want to continue for five years working 12 months a year, but I can take at least another year or two.” Are you kidding me? Obviously Kat isn’t aware that what she refers to as “working 12 months a year” to us common folk is known a JOB.

What happened, Katie? Did the film offers suddenly stop rolling in? Did you realize our country is in a major financial crisis and perhaps now is not a good time to quit? Did you come down off that pedestal long enough to see that regular people are losing their jobs left and right, and that maybe, just maybe, acting like a passive-aggressive two-year-old might be misconstrued as sheer arrogance? Or was it that your character, “Izzy Stevens,” has recently been diagnosed with stage IV metastatic melanoma which has spread to at least fifteen different organs, each of which must be removed ASAP or she will die? I’m thinking the latter.

You are a piece of work, Katherine. You, too, TR. But you’d better watch out, because your 15 minutes are almost up.

*Gay people, LISTEN UP! Nobody cares if you are gay. This is the 21st century. Everyone is gay! Sean Penn, a man who a few years ago would have beaten you to death if someone even hinted at a chink in his masculinity, played a gay man so convincingly they gave him an Academy Award.  They didn’t give him an Oscar when he played a retard, but gay? Fuck yes. Plus, I don’t know one person who didn’t bawl their eyes out after watching Brokeback Mountain. “Why can’t I quit you?” is the new “You had me at hello.” So, BE GAY! This is Hollywood, not Arkansas, NOBODY CARES.

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Posted in Because I Said So | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Book ‘em, Danno

Posted by kimlno on March 24, 2009

I love books. Not just reading them, but buying them and arranging them creatively on the many bookshelves in my home. I do not subscribe to the rule that books must be stacked side-by-side, titles all facing the same direction, from largest to smallest or *gasp* in alphabetical order by the author’s last name. What am I, a library? Please. How very ordinary.

No, I prefer my books to be tidy, but in no way organized. The only rule I have is that books with similar colored covers NOT be grouped together. That would be racist. In fact, there is little rhyme or reason to my book arranging style, except that aesthetically, I like them to look pretty. I have a gift for artistic spatial configurations, meaning I can arrange the hell out of a bunch of flowers and no one can touch me when it comes to making a collage.*

Yesterday, I treated myself to a trip to Barnes and Noble. I didn’t really need a new book, as I am currently reading three simultaneously, but I am of the belief that one can never have too many books. Who knows when the apocalypse will come, taking with it all of the entertainment we currently take for granted (e.g. television, movies, the internet, etc.). Anything needing electricity or batteries will become useless and the only devices with which we will have to distract us from the never-ending doom and despair will be books. The impending apocalypse is one of the main reasons I haven’t purchased a Kindle. I can’t tell you how pissed I’d be if all of the books I wanted to read suddenly became unavailable because the world had no more batteries.

For those of you who don’t have a clue as to what I am talking about, the Kindle is a “wireless reading device.” Essentially, it’s like a Game Boy for books. The allure of the Kindle is it’s light-no more carpal tunnel syndrome when trying to read a book over 1000 pages. It also has the handy capability of increasing or decreasing the font size, in case you forget your reading glasses. And, of course, it’s super eco-friendly since no trees were harmed in its production. (You don’t use trees to make computer chips, do you?) The downside of Kindle is it’s expensive. Sure, it’s great for travel, but who can afford to do that anymore?

For me, though, and it’s ultimately the reason I will never own a Kindle, it’s that once you’ve finished a book, you have nothing to show for it. There’s something deeply satisfying about finishing a book and then placing on the bookshelf next to all the other books you’ve read. It’s like a big check mark on the “To Do List” of life. It’s almost as good as a medal or a plaque signifying your accomplishment. There it is, plain as day, for all the world to see: I can read.

Sometimes, once I’ve finished a book, I will choose to share it with others rather than display it. Not that the books I choose to share are particularly better than the ones I keep, in fact, usually the opposite is true. Even more so when a book is by one of my favorite authors. Sorry, Charlie, but you’re just going to have to haul your lazy butt to B&N if you want to read something by David Sedaris or Christopher Moore. Or, if you’re not in any particular hurry, you could always order a copy online. Be forewarned, however, visiting a site like Amazon.com could result in a phenomenon I call the “Suggestion Shopping Spree,” or S³ for short.

The S³ is mostly restricted to online shopping, but it can also occur when visiting a store in person. The sure fire way to activate In-Store S³ is to solicit assistance from one of those oh so helpful sales associates at the customer service desk. If you simply cannot locate a book on your own, and you are left with no other choice than to ask for help, be prepared to purchase more books than you originally intended to, particularly if the book you really want isn’t in stock. Little Miss Helpful will have you traipsing from Literature to Biography with stops along the way in Humor, Self-Help, and, as usually it is in my case, Young Adult, before you eventually find your way to the cashier.

I don’t know what happened to the “Fiction” section of the book store, but it no longer exists. What was “Fiction” is now fifteen separate subdivisions including, but not limited to, Romance, Mystery & Crime, Poetry, Essays, Graphic Novels, and Science Fiction. Forget about locating the “Non-Fiction” section, either. It is ten times as disjointed and scattered willy nilly about the store. I mean, I get that B&N want to trick you into buying more books than you need, but making it virtually impossible to locate the books that I specifically came in to buy is not only completely frustrating, but very rude.

Do you know where they hide the Sedaris? In the “Essay” section. Essay? Really? So, why is it then, that all the Augusten Burroughs are in the “Biography” section alongside everything Jen Lancaster has ever written? Shouldn’t Jen at least be in the “Humor” section? And, really, aren’t they ALL just real-life tales recounted with razor sharp sarcasm and wit? If B&N wanted to make my life simpler, they would have a section called “Sarcasm and Wit.” Then, I could simply go straight to what I am ultimately looking for. Unfortunately, their “Sarcasm and Wit” section is currently labeled “Humor,” and includes close to a thousand volumes of assorted “Bathroom Books” all written by someone named Uncle John.

And, do you know what other section B&N could create to, again, simplify MY life? A “Chick Lit” section. Just take all the Elizabeth Young, Meg Cabot, Jennifer Weiner, Carole Matthews, Marian Keyes, Sophie Kinsella, et al, and give them their own special place. That way, when I am bending over, trying to see if there’s a new Jane Green, my ass is not in some pretentious prick’s face perusing the vast selection of Graham Greene titles. Not that there’s anything wrong with Graham Greene, it’s just that I can’t help but feel utterly frivolous picking up a copy of Mr. Maybe when some dude is deciding between The Power and the Glory and The End of the Affair.

Hence, why I do most of my book shopping online. I can find what I want by simply typing that special title into the search box. Voila! The exact book I am looking for magically appears on my screen and I am good to go. Well, unless I make the costly mistake of not immediately pressing the “Check Out Now” button, and scroll down the page. Inevitably, it is at this juncture that I fall victim to S³. I always start to scroll with the best of intentions, I swear. Maybe I’m just a few dollars short of qualifying for free shipping. Or perhaps the book I want is part of a trilogy, and if I am buying one, why not just buy them all? Whatever the reason, I rarely escape the lure of the S³.

On each Amazon.com page, there are no less than four separate S³ traps. If you’ve ever purchased anything from them, you will surely recognize the following suspects:

  • “Best Value”
  • “Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought”
  • “What Do Customers Ultimately Buy After Viewing This Item?”
  • “Listmania!”
  • “So You’d Like To…”

All of these categories could easily be named “Buy This Too” since that’s what their sole purpose is. But Amazon.com conceals their purely profit-driven tactics under the guise of being helpful. Yeah, help you spend more money.

Don’t get me wrong, sometimes I find it useful to see what other readers are reading who read the books that I enjoy reading (and that’s a lot of reading). But much like the poorly named “Genius” on iTunes, rarely do the suggestions match my personal tastes. Just because I like Radiohead (I do) does not in any way, shape or form indicate that I like Coldplay (I don’t). The same is true for books. Even crappy “Chick Lit.” I prefer my crappy “Chick Lit” to have a British accent, transforming it into “Brit Chick Lit.” You see, I am not completely without standards. Good taste, possibly, but standards, never.

*I don’t think there are enough collages in the world. There was a time in high school when collages were my main form of communication. If there was a boy I fancied, I’d make him a collage. And, if I was completely besotted, a mixed tape. So, if you grew up in and around the ‘sades, and you ever awoke to a poster board plastered in magazine clippings and/or a mixed tape waiting for you at your front door, it was probably me.

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Posted in I'd Buy That For A Dollar | Tagged: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

An Open Letter to WordPress.com

Posted by kimlno on March 14, 2009

Yesterday, I decided to add a feed button to my blog. In my estimation, I calculated that this would take 5-10 minutes of my busy day. Much to my chagrin, the entire process took just over 2 ½ HOURS. For reference, I have included the instructions as they appear on your FAQs page.

If you want to show your feed link:

  1. Go to Appearance -> Widgets
  2. Add a Text Widget to your sidebar
  3. Open it by clicking the blue lines
  4. Type the following:
    <a href=”http://your-blog-name.wordpress.com/feed”><img src=”image-location” /></a>
  5. Save the changes

Do not copy and paste the link above! Write it out properly.

That will add a link to your feed.

As you can see, the directions are not complicated. I read them through once, and then proceeded to follow them, step by step. Step #1 was straightforward and easy to complete. Step #2 was also very simple. However, Step #3 is where things went decidedly south. The directions read: Open it by clicking the blue lines. “It” I assumed, was the “Text Widget” referred to in Step #2. Once added, the “Text Widget” looks like a blue oblong button with the words “Text” on the left and “edit” on the right. “Edit” is underlined. Because I had added other widgets to my page, I was familiar with the blue button and how it worked. So, I managed to “open it” without following your specific directions. Had this been the first widget button I had ever used, I would not have been able to complete Step #3 because these “blue lines” of which you mention are nowhere to be found. I suppose you could be referring to the “blue button” as a “blue line” but, in that case, the word “line” should be singular. Additionally, if someone cannot tell the difference between a line and a button, they shouldn’t be allowed to have a blog in the first place. Finally, why not make everyone’s life a little easier by not even referring to the blue lines and simply direct the user to click “edit?” Then, there would be no squabbling about lines or buttons, and we all could just move on to Step #4.

Step #4 is the most poorly written, misleading, inadequate, and utterly baffling line of instruction that has ever been conceived.  I have read Ikea instructions that were more helpful than that nonsense.  The problem with Step #4 is that it lacks vital information that is required to complete it. Therefore, it cannot be completed. It is impossible. Needless to say, Step #4 is where the bulk of my day was spent.

After reading Step #4 it seems simple enough. Essentially, it instructs the user to do one thing: Type this. However, “type this” is only the very tip of the iceberg. Issue #1: The instructions warn to NOT copy and paste that giant line of gobbledygook that looks as if it were typed using the Cyrillic alphabet or Wing Dings. Because maturity-wise I am essentially a three-year-old with a large vocabulary and a driver’s license, my immediate response to this direct warning was, “Why?” Why can’t I just copy and paste it? Since I was not provided with an answer, I decided to ignore the big, bold warning and I highlighted the line of code, right-clicked copy, tabbed over to my blue button, and pasted it. “Screw you, WordPress,” I thought. Maybe the other less intelligent users would have followed your exact command, but I am smarter than them. Feeling rather superior, I moved on to Step #5 and “saved the changes.” Well, that was easy enough, right? Let’s see how it looks on my page. As you can probably surmise, I was less than thrilled with the result. No feed button, just the words I had added, “Click here to subscribe to my blog.” Okay, so maybe I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was, but I was positive that I could remedy the situation relatively quickly.

At this point, I went back to my widget page and clicked on the blue button to see what was the matter. Sure enough, the code I had copied and pasted was different from the code that appeared there now. How’d that happen? Nothing like that has ever happened before when I’ve copied and pasted. Ever. And I’ve done my fair share of copying and pasting. So, not admitting defeat, I tried in vain to copy and paste the code once again, hoping for a more positive outcome. Do you know what they say about people who do the same thing over and over again, yet expect a different outcome? Of course you do.

So, I referred back to the instructions, and this time, I followed them implicitly. I TYPED the following into the blue box:

<a href=”http://your-blog-name.wordpress.com/feed”><img src=”image-location” /></a>

Hunting and pecking at my keyboard, I carefully entered each character, and when I arrived at the part that reads, “your-blog-name.wordpress.com” a light bulb illuminated above my head. I quickly changed “your-blog-name” to “kimlno” and all was right with the world. Or so I thought. I saved the changes and visited my site to see how they looked now (now that I’d actually followed the directions). And you know what? STILL no button. WTF? It was ONE LINE of code. People (and when I say people, I mean geeks who build their own computers from scratch) program thousands of lines of code every day. How difficult could this be? I have a MASTERS DEGREE, damn it. I can program the clock on my VCR, for crying out loud (I just really dated myself, didn’t I?)! I was not going to be bested by one stinking line of stupid HTML code. “I can do this,” I told myself. And, like Vizzini had instructed, I went back to the beginning, and started over once again.

By now, as you may have predicted, I was getting a little cranky. I was tired, nothing seemed to be working, and I was weighing the advantages to even having a stupid feed button on my blog that has less than 2000 hits and has been up for almost 6 months. But, I’m no quitter and, by golly, I was going to figure this thing out. Maybe I was missing something. Maybe, just as the directions had failed to mention that “your-blog-name” should be replaced with your blog name (stop laughing, it’s rude to mock an idiot), perhaps there was another piece of the code I needed to swap out in order for this feed button to work. But what?

I looked at the code more closely. I decided that the first part of the code looked right, and the problem must therein lie somewhere in the second half. Because I have formatted a note or two on Facebook, I was aware that all code had to exist in between < and >. Plus, not only did you need to indicate where you wanted the code to begin in your text, it was imperative to indicate where you wanted the code to END. Otherwise, even though you may only want to italicize one word of text, if you forgot to add </i> after the word, the rest of your document would be in italics. The code for the feed button started and ended with the proper punctuation marks, but INSIDE those < and > were two OTHER sets of < and >. AHA! Now, I was getting somewhere.

It was at this juncture that I decided it might behoove me to look at the directions once again, just in case I had missed something (of course, I WAS missing something, but I had no idea what it was or even what I was looking for). Below the instructions were lots of pretty feed buttons in different sizes and all the colors of the rainbow. Directly next to each button was a URL. Upon clicking various links, I determined (in all my brilliance) that the links corresponded to the size and color of the feed button. No light bulb switched on over my head this time, and I was caught up in deciding which color would look best on my page, should I ever unravel the secret to mystery, that is.

Before all the pieces of the puzzle did, indeed, finally come together, I had one more failure ahead of me. The code was now memorized and emblazoned on my brain for all eternity when it occurred to me that “img src” was most likely an abbreviation for “image source.” Hmm…image source. Well, the image I wanted to appear on my page was a button, and each one the buttons on the bottom of the page of directions had its very own link. So, if I substitute “img src” for one of those links, I should be in business! Right? Not quite. I plugged the URL into the code, but, alas, still no feed button appeared on my blog.

It was at this point that I began to cry. Not all out blubbering, snot-running-down-your-nose (Hey, Aqualung!), red-splotchy-and-swollen crying, but a definite pout took form and tears welled up in my eyes. A deep, cleansing breath later, I convinced myself that the solution was close at hand, and to give up now would be fool hardy. Perhaps it was the tears that cleared my vision, or maybe with all the trial and error, I only had one option left. Whatever it was, I had the notion to replace the words “image-location” with a URL. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, this appeared on my page:

feed-button1

I had solved the riddle. I was victorious. No thanks to you, WordPress. Vexed at every turn, your instructions mocked my intelligence, tested my patience, and all but extinguished my belief in a higher power. It is, for these reasons, I write this now.

WordPress, I implore you to revise your FAQs post haste. So strongly do I feel about the necessity of this action that I have rewritten them myself in hopes that no one should endure the level of frustration I experienced. You’re welcome.

If you want to show your feed link:

  1. Go to Appearance -> Widgets
  2. Add a Text Widget to your sidebar
  3. Open it by clicking “edit”
  4. Type, DO NOT COPY AND PASTE, the following:
    <a href=”http://your-blog-name.wordpress.com/feed”><img src=”image-location” /></a>
  5. Replace “your-blog-name” with the name of your blog (i.e. if your blog address is http://myblog.wordpress.com, change “your-blog-name” to “myblog”)
  6. Replace “image-location” with one of the URLs below (i.e., if you want your feed link to appear on your page exactly like the first link on the list, change “image-location” to http://faq.files.wordpress.com/2006/11/a14.png)
  7. Save the changes

That will add a link to your feed.

Here are some different link styles available for you to choose from:

feed-button2http://faq.files.wordpress.com/2006/11/a14.png

feed-medium

http://faq.files.wordpress.com/2006/11/a28.png


feed-large http://faq.files.wordpress.com/2006/11/a64.png

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Posted in Unsolicited Mail | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments »

Does Barry Manilow Know That You Raid His Wardrobe?

Posted by kimlno on March 12, 2009

In 1977, the year Jimmy Carter was elected as our 39th President of the United States, I was introduced to Barry Manilow by my Aunt Judy. Not the man himself (I would never be that lucky), but his songs, by way of a totally dated music format, the 8-track. My aunt was WAY ahead of her time; most automobiles back then were only equipped with radios (an AM radio, not one of those fancy-schmancy technologically advanced AM/FM radios). To this day, my aunt remains to be the only person I have ever met who had an 8-track player in her car. What can I say? My aunt Judy was cool.

Sonny and Cher Dolls.

Sonny and Cher Dolls.

During summer vacations, I would frequently go over to my aunt and uncle’s house in Calabasas and hang out with my cousins. Why? They had a pool. Plain and simple. Plus, her daughter, Mandy, is my same age, and she had a TON of Barbies and Barbie accouterments. Mandy owned the most coveted Barbie of all, which wasn’t really a Barbie…it was a Cher doll. And let me tell you, Cher had a ridiculously awesome wardrobe for a doll, not to mention long black hair that hung down practically to her ankles. Mandy always had the best toys. *SIGH*

On a typical day we would spend half the time in the pool, or until our fingertips puckered, began to turn white and peel off, and then the rest of the day we’d play Barbies in Mandy’s room. It was about as close to paradise a 6-year-old could get. Often, after we’d spent hours getting Barbie and her friends properly dressed, styled, and settled in Barbie’s Townhouse with its real working elevator (See? I TOLD you she had the best toys), her brother Cam would burst into the room, grab the Barbie Townhouse with both hands, and proceed to violently shake the Townhouse back and forth while screaming, “EARTHQUAKE!” Barbie, her friends, and all her furniture would be flung free of the structure creating what can only be described as a Barbie Massacre. As a kid, my cousin Cam was a total dick. Mandy may have had the best toys, but she had the worst brother. Cam constantly made me thankful that I was an only child.

Whenever my aunt had errands to run, she’d coerce us into going with her by dangling the promise of a special “surprise” if we behaved ourselves. Really, we had no choice in the matter. Who would leave two small children at home alone while she went shopping? Hmm. That’s strange. I don’t remember Cam ever joining us on our excursions. I wonder what Judy did with him when we went with her on errands?

ANYsheprobablylockedhimintheclosetuntilwereturnedbutthatispurelyconjectureasIhavenoproof, we’d all squeeze into the front seat of her big diesel Mercedes, and because I was the shortest, I had to sit in the middle…on the dreaded bump. Not the seat bump, in this instance, but the floor bump. As far as the seat was concerned, I was situated in the crevasse, so to speak. Sometimes, when both my aunt and my cousin exited the automobile at the same time, the crevasse would close up and before I could slide out of the car, the back of my thighs would be pinched between the seat cushions. It was a small price to pay in order to have absolute power over the tape deck. Every once in a while, my aunt would allow Mandy and me to sit together in the backseat and pretend like she was our chauffeur, but she preferred it if we all sat together in the front.

Barry Manilow Live 8-Track Tape.

Barry Manilow Live 8-Track Tape.

It seems like the only tape that was ever in the deck was Barry Manilow Live. It was blue and it stuck out just enough to be able to read the title and see Barry’s upside-down disembodied head. In a related anecdote, the first time I saw the album cover in its entirety I was SHOCKED to Barry sporting a skin-tight, powder blue jumpsuit. After seeing that, there was no doubt that Barry was indeed Jewish, if you get my drift. We listened to that tape so often that I still have most of the album memorized. It starts off with cheering and music, and then some lady (I assume one of his back-up singers) announces, “Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Barry Manilow!” With that, the music changes to a psst-ta psst-ta psst-ta beat (very “Solid Gold”). A few bars of that finger-snapping rhythm, and the MANilow himself says, “Hello New York!” and immediately launches into a jazzy rendition of “Riders to the Stars,” that is so exhilarating it could wake the dead. All three of us would sing along as we made our way down Ventura Boulevard to Gemco.
GemCo, in my humble opinion, was the best store to ever exist in the entire universe. It was like 10 stores in one. There was nothing you couldn’t buy at Gemco. Now, those kind of places are a dime a dozen (Wal-Mart, Target, etc.), but back in 1976 that store was special and unique. They sold everything from fine jewelry to groceries to clothes. They also sold gas, electronics, toys, hardware, sporting goods and they even filled prescriptions. While my aunt was doing her weekly shopping, my cousin and I were permitted to go off on our own and explore. Our favorite thing to do was to hide out underneath the large, round racks of clothes. No one ever knew we were there…it was kinda like a couch fort, but instead of couch cushions there were rows of peasant blouses and flared jeans.

Gemco

Gemco

Having free reign in Gemco led to a life-long fantasy of “accidentally” being locked in the store overnight. Thankfully, I was fortunate enough to live the dream vicariously through the film Career Opportunities, a badly marketed and poorly titled John Hughes film starring a young Jennifer Connelly back when she had huge knockers and eyebrows like Leonid Brezhnev. I fondly refer to those early years as the “Labyrinth Age.” For those of you who share my dream of spending the night in a department store, I’ve included my favorite scene (ROLLER SKATING!) for your viewing pleasure. Click HERE.

Once Mandy and I had explored every nook and cranny of Gemco, and my aunt was finished with her shopping, we were usually rewarded with a trip to Ferrell’s for ice cream sundaes (Tin Roof, no whipped cream, my usual). Of course on the way over to Ferrell’s we continued to listen to Barry belt out the classics: “New York City Rhythm,” “Jump Shout Boogie,” a rare medley of “Could It Be Magic” and “Mandy,” “Daybreak,” and, of course, “I Write the Songs.” But the absolute most excellent song on the entire album has to be “A Very Strange Melody,” and I bet you’ve never even heard of it. You see, before Barry was a big star, he wrote advertising jingles to pay the bills, and some rather well-known ones at that.

Barry Manilow got mad skillz. During the medley, he sings about five or six jingles including ones for Dr. Pepper (“the most original soft drink ever in the whole wide world”), State Farm (“like a good neighbor, State Farm is there”), Stridex (“give your face something to smile about”), Band-Aid (“I am stuck on Band-Aid, ‘cause Band-Aid’s stuck on me”), Pepsi (“all across the nation, it’s a Pepsi generation”), and McDonald’s (“you deserve a break today”). However, regardless of how famous his other jingles were, the one that makes them all pale in comparison, my personal favorite, and truly a work of art, is this little ditty*:

There’s barkin’ in the the kitchen
Yellin’ in the hall
Ringin’ at the door bell
Poundin’ on the wall
Kids out of sight
And kids in the wa-ay-ay
No time to cook on this hectic day
Come on, come on, come on
Get a bucket of chicken
Finger lickin’ good
Have a barrel of fun
Goodbye ho-hum
Say hello to your family
Come on everyone
To Kentucky Fried Chicken
Have a barrel of fu-uh-uh-un!

I told you he’s a GENIUS. And no matter how sophisticated, or pretentious, my musical tastes may become, I will always love Barry Manilow.

*To sing along, click HERE.

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Excusez-MOI!

Posted by kimlno on March 12, 2009

kermit-fashion

I have seen some sick shit in my life. But, this? This is BY FAR the most disgusting, repulsive, stomach-turning, bile-producing fashion garment I have ever laid eyes upon. How dare they turn a beloved muppet into haute couture?!? Kermit is NOT a fabric! He’s a frog!

Oh, Kermit. My dear, sweet little Kermie. How? HOW?!? How could they do this to you? You didn’t leave the swamp to end up as an accessory on the runway! Now, *sniff* you’ll never know why there are so many songs about rainbows.

A pox upon you Jean-Charles de Castelbajac! Vengence, in the name of the frog, shall be mine.

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