With Election Day less than a week away, it looks like Obama is going to win based on the polls and what people on line at Starbucks tell each other. Obama supporters are always talking about how much they love him and proudly express it every chance they get. He is like a Toyota Prius or a hemp sack you carry to the supermarket with you: trendy, reasonable, and generally OK looking without being distracting. Basically, Obama is U2. McCain on the other hand, is more like Jethro Tull. I challenge you to find the person who will openly admit to liking Jethro Tull, even though they have sold a trillion records since the late 60’s. I personally have a secret stash of Jethro Tull albums*, and no, it doesn’t feel good saying that out loud. Some of their stuff is good though. See, that was really hard to write. In contrast to Obama fans, many McCain supporters are basically shamed into staying quiet and hoping that there are enough of them hiding in closets somewhere that he will pull out the win come November 4. Before we count anyone out, do I need to remind everybody of the 1989 Grammys when Jethro Tull beat out “..And Justice For All” by Metallica in the Heavy Metal category???? No one knows how that crazy shit happened, but it did. A band dressed up as medieval serfs, with a lead singer that plays the flute, beat the most ass kicking band of the 80’s. The flute beat Metallica. THE FLUTE.
So, in conclusion- McCain, his campaign and Alaskan lady friend are about as hard to digest as a flutey hard rock/folk band. The whole thing is publicly unacceptable, even if people may secretly believe in him and root for him deep down inside.  Obama seems like the lock because his promise for change invigorates people almost as much as “Rattle and Hum”, and vague promises are always inspiring. Plus, I hear Obama is also making sure the cafeteria will have a soda machine and will talk to the principal about half day Fridays for seniors.

*By me saying I listen to Jethro Tull in no way indicates my party affiliation. OK?

It, too, has an SNL Spokesperson. Where did her funny go? One would like to think that she’s joking when she says:

“Thank you President George W. Bush…  xxoo  You did a Great job!… And, Thank you God above for giving us George W. Bush, and for giving us John McCain and Sarah Palin.”

-OR-

“I don’t want a political label,  but Obama bears traits that resemble the anti- Christ and I’m scared to death that un- educated people will ignorantly vote him into office.”

…Wouldn’t SNL’s live studio audience be in hysterics if she were announcing this in her one-trick helium-infused voice on stage?

via jezebel

Guess what? I have decided not to make of fun of “Celebrity Rehab 2.”  Addiction is a terrible thing and these poor people are teetering on the brink of life and death, and even I have my limits. Well, I don’t really have limits, but for the purposes of public acceptance I have decided not to make fun of those crackpots. Every single person in the cast of CR2 once had it all- fame, money and good luck. Everyone, that is, except for Rodney King who never had any of that good stuff, but did manage to coin the phrase of the century through his trials and tribulations, so at least he has that going for him. Think about it. The phrase “Can’t we all just get along?” is used by innocent bystanders on a daily basis when watching friends, co workers, parents fight. It’s probably more popular than “Where’s the Beef?” or “Bling Bling.” I’d have to check though…
The bottom line is this: Celebrity Rehab shows the vulnerability and struggle of people who were once admired and adored by thousands or hundreds. The cast is pretty good this time around- I knew almost all of them: We got Nikki McKibbin, the little red firecracker from the first American Idol; Tawny Kitaen, Whitesnake car dancer and husband beater; Steven Adler, Guns N Roses original drummer; Rod Stewart’s less talented son; Rodney King; some model named Amber Smith, Jeff Conaway who was Kenicke in Grease and a complete head case in the last season of Celebrity Rehab and…. GARY. BUSEY.

OK. I need to say something. Gary Busey looks like a medical school cadaver that didn’t realize it was dead and decided to walk around the laboratory not realizing he’s been partially decomposed and bizarrely reconstituted. At least that’s how I see it. Although Gary claims to be sober for the last 13 years, there is definitely something amiss. Awry. Scarily disturbingly wrong. Gary also thinks he is at the rehab center to be a staff member and not a patient, so get ready for the hilarious miscommunication episode, when he finally realizes that they have him committed as well.

Truthfully, I’m a little excited for the Kenicke/Busey combination. They both have such explosive and whacked out personalities, there is no telling where this can go.
Wait!! IDEA….
After this show, Busey and Kenicke both star in a reality show (loosely called “Act 2”) where they live together in a halfway house and need to build their lives up together and get back on track. Then they get a phone call from an agent saying that they are both up for the role of FDR in a new movie directed by Francis Ford Coppola called “YALTA”, based on the famous 1945 Summit. It’s a huge movie with an A-list cast, including Rutger Hauer as Winston Churchill and Robert DeNiro as Josef Stalin. Gary Busey feels immediately intimidated because Jeff Conaway already knows how to roll around in a wheelchair, so the entire series will be the two of them haphazardly sabotaging each other by putting Nair in each other’s shampoo bottle, messing with each other’s meds, unplugging alarm clocks…etc, etc. The finale will feature Francis Coppola announcing who has won the coveted FDR role.
Seriously. I scare myself sometimes.

Fans of Meredith’s crafts, you’re in luck!

I hate it when “funny” people get all serious and try to change why we liked them in the first place (I’m looking at you Tom Hanks). Like, when Jenny McCarthy and Jim Carrey got together a few years ago, I was pretty sure that they spent their time together setting their farts on fire and reminiscing about 1995, the last time either one of them were relevant. I don’t know what the hell happened to those two. Now they are both so serious, talking to Larry King about hard hitting issues, discussing personal demons to People magazine, perfecting the ultimate bob hairdo. It’s lame.
The last time I checked, Jenny was the completely overexposed hostess of that MTV dating show and the Candies shoe spokesperson. In fact, she was so wildly popular that the good people at Candies decided to run an entire ad campaign around her pinching a loaf on the toilet. That was nasty, even for her. I think the campaign bombed, and Candies had to release a statement saying something to the tune of “Candies does not condone taking a crump whilst wearing our footwear in a public arena, and recognizes that there is a limit to how sassy and cute a person can be.”
I know that Jenny has had her troubles and I respect that. I just cannot meld old goofy annoying her and new whistleblower annoying her together. People should only get one chance at being irritating.
While we are on the subject on MTV in the mid 90’s, was there ever a better MTV character than Donal Logue as Jimmy the Cab Driver, outside of Kennedy, and maybe Jesse Camp? Awesomeness. Btw, I hear Jesse keeps the kitchen staff at Hummus World totally entertained these days with his dishwashing skills.
I can’t say where this all came from. Sorry for the random thoughts…

Only Brian could convince Blake Lively to do the ugly face… 

Gee whiz!

hahahah! and he, uhhh, “forgets this guy’s name”:

No one rules quite as hard as Battjer!

I just found out that the lovely, mysterious alcoholic beverage Zima has officially being discontinued. That is terribly sad news for the “malt-ernative” alcohol industry and kinda for me too. I shed a tear for the times me and that crazy mutant had together. 
I don’t want to brag, but my college campus served as a test market for Zima, and no one was more of a willing participant than yours truly. In fact, that is how my one and only contribution to society happened: I recommended mixing Zima and Peach Schnapps together, thereby creating the now famous “Pantyless Freshman” cocktail. You may have heard of it..Yeah, that was me. It was kind of a big deal for about 4 months in upstate New York. No, I take it back. People in upstate New York are most definitely still drinking it and loving every peachy minute of it.
Sorry, Zima. I did all I could. Guess I’ll see you in Hell with Joose and Camel Crush cigarettes.

This is fucking great. It gets updated and changed every day.

Is there possibly anything in the whole wide world more irresistible than those flea bag hookers from VH1’s “Rock of Love”? Not in my book. Those diseased whores are back again in “Charm School 2” and don’t think I wasn’t front and center for that cringefest last night.
As you know, “Rock of Love” was a reality show featuring Bret Michaels from the 80’s hair band Poison, and his search for the perfect little lady who could hang with him on his imaginary tour and help manage his diabetes. Of course, every low level stripper in the country came out for their 15 minutes of glory to get it on with Bret. Somehow they all got some time off from serving bar food with their asscracks and sliding their fake boobs all over a dance floor covered with marinara sauce and Michelob Light just to hook up with a washed up rocker they were probably too young to even know existed in the first place. Now, I have a problem with Bret Michaels as the lovelorn protagonist in this story, just because he is a 44 year old douchebag that wears the fakest fake wig I have ever seen and frosted lipstick. He is officially becoming the white Little Richard. You know, some old dude who still tries to put the “look” together, even he if has to draw on his eyebrows and glue some doll hair to his head to do it. Sorry, dudes. You are fooling no one, but I do smell the makings of a VERY interesting “Odd Couple” scenario…Little Richard and Bret Michaels live together and help each other put on their wigs, make up and zoot suits and try to pick up barely legal sluts on the Vegas casino circuit…Christopher Walken as kooky landlord, Rerun from What’s Happenin’ as Richard’s disapproving son, and Sarah Michelle Gellar as Bret’s bitchy ex wife who keeps on trying to kill him to get his money. I’d watch it.
Anyhow. Charm School 2 brings these skanks back to learn a thing or two about good behavior from Mrs. Sharon Osbourne, who has clearly done a stellar job of raising upstanding citizens of her own. She is the ideal mentor in a case such as this. Oh, and Rikki Rachtman is a judge because if there is anyone in the music industry who is familiar with roadie cast offs and has a 20 year old score to settle with the stripper who got away, its HIM. Charm School 2 promises to brilliantly highlight the ridiculous crew of women with the worst pink hair extensions I ever saw this side of Claire’s. I look forward to many, many weeks of these girls bitch slapping each other, puking, farting, crying, falling, yelling, and embarrassing the poor people who brought them into the world one fateful night in 1986 in a Sonic parking lot somewhere in Tallahassee. VH1 RULES!!!
PS. Celebrity Rehab 2 coming soon…..with GARY BUSEY!!
 

I love a good concert as much as the next guy, and have been to a wide spectrum of both spectacular and shitacular shows- all of which I willingly went to and mostly enjoyed. Except the time I got forced to go to a Grateful Dead show and literally had a nervous breakdown at how long/boring/long it was. However the grilled cheese sandwiches in the parking lot were fan-fucking-tastic.
ANWAY, I had the extreme pleasure of seeing Ray LaMontagne perform this weekend and IT.WAS.AWESOME. He has the kind of voice that brings a tear to my eye, something that only a few talented souls can manage- Jeff Buckley, Nick Drake, maybe Billy Corgan once in a while. It was kind of like culture shock for me being at a concert where everyone was generally well behaved and good looking. Normally I find myself in places where the crowds are in stone washed denim and the smell of Drakkar Noir hovers over my head like an atomic bomb cloud. (mmmm!!)
The concert was amazing-and I highly recommend Ray to anyone out there who still doesn’t know who he is. I also want to congratulate myself publicly for not murdering the people sitting around me that night: Guy with the Ham head in front of me, Guy with the foot tapping on the back of the chair behind me, and guy playing bongos on his girfriend’s lap next to me. Yeah. She allowed him do that the entire time. He had good rhythm, that’s why I let him live.
After the concert I participated in an impromptu foot race against a roasted nut vendor in the middle of Times Square. The challenge was to see if I could outrun a guy pushing 400 pounds of metal and nuts in my 4 inch heels. And yay! I won!!! Only by a little, though.