No update today. Some mumbling black girl came up to me in gym class and told me that Mitch Lawrence was my father. It got me so upset I scored some drugs from that kid who looks like a Golden Retriever puppy, and now I’m in jail next to Marty. That girl never shuts up. So I have to go lie down for a while. Have a good weekend. Stay away from Stacy; that girl will suck you dry…and not in a good way.
I’d Like to Order a Father-Son Combo, with a Side Order of Renee
Marty is in jail, but she has traded up, acting-partner-wise…instead of playing opposite Lame Guy (may he rest in petey), she is now in adjoining cells with Ray (who used to win lots of Emmys when he was from Santa Barbara instead of Colombia).
Harvey Fierstein gave a speech directed to our new President a few nights ago at a benefit for equal rights called Defying Inequality. He started by mentioning that Lincoln had originally stated, quite publicly, his opposition to equal rights for “Negroes,” but then later came up with that “all men are created equal” thing. Fierstein then went on to say:
Mr Obama, I have heard you speak eloquently in favor of inclusion for gays and lesbians. But then you sternly state your opposition to marriage rights. It leaves me wondering if you are straining to be politic or, if like Lincoln, your views still need maturing.
It’s always been a slightly deranged combination: American Idol — a show where unproven, un-spun commoddities get unfiltered airtime — on Fox, a network where every open moment is spun to a right-wing polish. (It gets a little more deranged on So You Think You Can Dance, where the choreographers sometimes have something more insurgent to say than the moldable AI singer-wannabes.)
So here I am, to peek behind the Fox curtain of don’ts and really-don’ts, to explore What’s Goin’ On.
Y’know, in this post-Bush age, I just don’t have the patience for assholes anymore. Case in point: some clown named Dean Grose, who is the mayor of Los Alamitos, California. He evidently e-mailed to all his friends the following jpeg:
With a caption that said, “No Easter Egg hunt this year.” Okay, pal…Mr. Grose, listen up: Nobody has any time for bigots anymore. Racism isn’t funny, and stupidity isn’t adorable. I hope your city boots your sorry ass out of office, and I know that sounds a little quick-tempered. But there just isn’t the time for this shit anymore. This wasn’t a little accident; this was intentional racism…from an elected official. Resign, buddy, before we all make an example of you. Cuz your brand of idiocy is so last century, dude.
FRIDAY UPDATE: Mayor Asshat has issued a statement that he will turn in his resignation on Monday.
My actions are a disappointment to my family, friends, citizens and supporters in our community. Those who truly know me are aware of the person I am and the commitment I’ve had for many, many years in this small community. The attention brought to this matter has sadly created an image of me which is most unfortunate.
Yeah…that’s you’re a flaming asshat. That’s one down. Now let’s see what we can get on the Republican Congress.
From Whose Groins Hath These Fellows Descended?
Rex is having a terrible night/morning of sleep, dreaming that his “dad” David and “stepma” Dorian are about to give him his bottle before exploiting his spiky hair as a baby model. I don’t know what exactly his choosing “baby model” as his nightmare of choice says about his subconscious, but I’m fascinated. Anyway, he’ll be waking up soon — or, at least, switching to much more adult dreams — since Slutty Stacy is watching him toss and turn in her lacy li’l panties…no…he’s not in her panties…well…at least not this week. And perhaps there’ll be some Stacyus Interruptus on the seduction scene, cuz Fish the Stoopid-at-Love Copper is knockin’ at the Carriage House with some flowers for his one night stand. Let’s hope Slutcy remembers him. Gigi opens the bedroom door and sees the Slutster’s hand all over Rexy’s chest. The funny bit is, even when she’s caught Stacy doesn’t move her hand off Rex’s chest for the slow fade to commercial. This is one brazen stripper-slut.
Huh?
Jared’s hair looks dumb today…which would probably be easier to overlook if the scene he’s in weren’t so redundant and yawn-inducing. In other lethargic fronts, Cris’s biceps are getting the lowdown on whatever-the-hell Slinkita actually did, and Gigi is all pouty because her slutty sister got to have fun at the hockey game instead of her. Boo freakin’ hoo. And Marcie said that she and Michael had sex last night…like any of us could forget it if we tried.
In Oklahoma, they’re trying to outlaw the procedure of getting your eyeball tattooed.
Because people are getting their eyeballs tatooed.
In case you needed to know that.
“How Could You Not Love La Fleuris? It Has a Moat!”
Ray has shown up at Slinkita’s love nest, wielding a knife and snarling like a knife-wielding knifer. With him acting this nasty, it’ll be at least a week and a half before we know he’s the wounded party. Except that Slinkita is acting like a spider woman, so things’ll be fine as long as Ray doesn’t try and knife Cristian or something. Impulse control, dude.
Things on this show were either great or forgivable. Except for those musical numbers, which were so utterly putrid that I’m still trying to fumigate my room.
Great:
*That quorum of Best Supporting Actresses who honored the nominees in their category. Utterly classy and interesting. (The Best Supporting Actors were also good, but the testosterone got in the way of the graciousness.)
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