Sex and the City 2: neutered and not so naughty

So I saw Sex and the City 2 this past weekend. I know, you're dying to find out what I thought of it because my opinion matters that much. Well, because of my high degree of self-importance, I'll tell ya. Good girl fluff, if your expectations aren't set too high. Of course, the fashion is to die for, and if I ever find out where they house the wardrobe for this franchise, I may resume my life of crime and steal some choice pieces.

Apart from that, this movie seems to perpetuate Carrie Bradshaw's completely dysfunctional love life, despite the fact that she is now married. In this second movie installment (spoiler alert!) she ends up running into Aidan, the ex-boyfriend she almost married, in a crowded market halfway across the globe. It must have happened for a reason, right? reasons Carrie. And, of course, she and Mr. Big were having marital issues before she left on her Middle Eastern girlie getaway. So.... you can kind of guess what's coming. Especially if you watched the series.

She doesn't end up sleeping with Aidan but she does kiss him. Tsk, tsk. Carrie finally ends up with Mr. Big, the man she pined for throughout six seasons of Sex and the City, the TV show, and then, when she hits a road bump in her marriage, kisses her ex-boyfriend who she cheated on with Mr. Big, who is now her husband. 

This girl needs some sense knocked into her. However, she does cop to her erratic behaviour and takes responsibility for it. But still... Will Carrie ever be happy? 

On the other hand, I really enjoyed a wonderful moment when Charlotte felt overwhelmed as the mother of two young children and stepped into a food pantry to cry. That could have been any mom, and it felt authentic. 

In the same vein, a conversation between Charlotte and Miranda about how motherhood can be a kick in the teeth, as well as very rewarding, was quite refreshing. There was none of this "your life is not complete until you've had kids" crap. They kept it real, and I quite appreciated that. 

Samantha is still Samantha, and I love her for it. The only thing I would have liked to see more of were the guys, i.e. the husbands and boyfriends. Apart from Mr. Big, who shows up fairly often, the other boys barely get any screen time which is really too bad. We didn't get to see the couples' dynamic in this movie. I love to see Charlotte and Harry, and Miranda and Steve together. There was barely a trace of the usual banter between them that made the TV show so interesting. 

All in all, a highly forgettable movie. Great fashion porn, but that's about it.  If you want to experience the real flavour of Sex and the City, and not just a cheap imitation, watch the TV series. It's far superior and much more risqué. 

Sorry girls. You were much better on the small screen.

Victim porn, the latest addiction

In an interview this week on ABC's Nightline, Jesse James claimed he was physically abused as a child. So, is that supposed to distract us from the fact that he's a lying, cheating bastard? This sickens me. We have become a culture that glorifies victimhood, not taking any responsibility for our actions. 

I cheated on you = I was abused as a child, I have no boundaries. 

I'm an addict = I come from a broken home.

I'm a raging narcissist = I wasn't adequately loved as a child. 

I beat the crap out of someone = I was never taught to accept myself.

I could justify being a complete bitch to everyone I meet because on a Tuesday in 1978, I was spanked by my mother for misbehaving, which now qualifies as "physical abuse", and I never quite got over it.

You get the general idea... Whatever happened to: I cheated because I'm a selfish f*ck. Yeah, we'll hate you for a while, then we'll get over it. But this whiny, poor me, victim bullshit has got to stop. If you have issues, go to therapy, do some volunteer work, get over it. Stop defining your identity and your every action by some transgression you may have suffered years ago. 

There's a new kind of porn out there that's just as addictive as the sexual kind: it's called victim porn. You know what happens when you play the victim? You give your personal power away to someone else. You let someone other than you control your thoughts,  emotions and actions. Is that what you really want? 

Using victim porn to slither your way out of an embarrassing situation just makes you more of an asshole. Fess up. Face the music.  It'll only hurt for a bit, and then it'll pass. We'll be on to the next scandal before you know it.

Life after Jake

After a fabulous long weekend (here in Canada) with unseasonably warm temperatures and sunny skies, last night it was time to get down to business, and by business I mean the season premiere of The Bachelorette. Proud, I am not. Addicted to certain shitty reality TV series, I am. 

I realized last night as I watched Ali, the new Bachelorette, greet a bevy of hunks vying for her affections, that she is incredibly annoying. I likened it to how pleasant it is to listen to fingernails against a blackboard. I think I may have wanted to slap her at one point just so she would tone it down. I'm all for enthusiasm but that voice. Even when she's happy, there's a whine in it. 

Of course, the drama started almost instantly. Men can be catty too. They've already picked out a male version of Vienna in Justin, a Canadian "entertainment" wrestler. Everyone already seems to think he's there for the "wrong" reasons. How do you know this after having just met the guy? Is it jealousy or what? 

I didn't like Vienna in the end but it took me a few episodes to realize she's a fame whoring ho bag. So really, she and Jake deserve each other. But Justin seems ok at this point. Nothing's happened yet except some serious sucking up to Ali over cocktails. But, of course, if there's no drama, it must be manufactured, especially on a show like this that thrives on cat fights, backstabbing and general sleeziness.

In this season, Ali travels the world getting to know her potential husbands. This, I'm a little jealous of. From Turkey to Iceland to some tropical paradise. Bitch. 

Of course, I'm already looking forward to the shenanigans kicking into high gear in subsequent episodes. Yes, this is what I do in my spare time. Don't judge. You know you'd do the same, if you had no pride. 

Go get 'em tiger!

La Lohan fought the law... and the law won.

As I was surfing the gossip sphere today, I couldn't help but notice this article on La Lohan's desperate attempts to return to L.A. from Cannes for a DUI hearing. Well, she didn't make it 'cause now there's a warrant for her arrest with bail set at $100,000. 

Begging friends for a private jet? Someone stole her passport? First of all, does she even have any friends left? Especially ones with private jets? Secondly, someone stole her passport just before she was about to go back to L.A.? COME ON. 

What the hell is La Lohan even doing at the Cannes Film Festival? She's some coked-up, crusty-crotch has been with a record. She has no film to promote. She has no career that would justify her presence there. How does she even get into parties? Is she the entertainment? As in she walks in, and everyone laughs. And who else would be dumb enough to wait until the last minute before circling half the globe to get to a hearing on time. 

Lindsay never should have left L.A. There's no reason for her to be anywhere else. Come to think of it, why is she still in L.A.? Lindsay should crawl back to where she came from. She is no longer relevant. She is not an actress. She is not a celebrity. She is Hollywood roadkill. Time to scrape her off the side of the highway and dispose of her in a humane manner, i.e. send her back to civilian life.

See? Roadkill.

This makes me want to give up on humanity

So this is how it works in Hollywood. I should have known. Your life is a shambles. You have ex-wives and almost ex-wives coming out of your ass, and children from various relationships to support. You were arrested on Christmas Day for attacking your wife. Turns out you're both addicts and total f*ck wads. You halt production on your hit TV show to go to rehab for unknown reasons, and your infant twin boys were floating in some parentless abyss because your wife also went to rehab.

And now they're gonna pay you $2 million f*cking dollars per episode to return to Two and a Half Men! If anything, you should have been kicked out on your keister until your life had some semblance of stability. 

But no, that's not how it works in La-La Land. It's more important to make money off a hit show than display any kind of moral backbone and cast someone else in the lead. TV series do not necessarily die when there is a major cast change. It happens all the time and shows survive, if not thrive.

Besides, Two and a Half Men is some piddly, lame sitcom. It's not a generation-defining, brilliant show like, say, Seinfeld. The fact that it's a number one sitcom disturbs me. This is what we've come to. Drivel. Charlie Sheen is not worth $2 million f*cking dollars per episode. Wow, I can't even say that without swearing. Actually, no one is worth that much. 

It simply brings to light a sick society that would rather pay a selfish ass wipe ridiculous amounts of money to "entertain" us than pay a school teacher a decent salary. F*ck you Hollywood and the dumb asses who watch your dumb ass shows, while propping up an addict. You suck.

I think I need a Valium...

And if I ever catch you in my neighbourhood, 

I'll have a few choice words for you, yes I will.

One Leafy Plant Precipice

About a week or so ago, my step-daughter introduced me to One Tree Hill, a teen-angst ridden, evening soap opera with some pretty angst-ridden adults too. 

I've been aware for months that she watches this show (she owns all the DVDs except Season 7 - but the two leads are gone in that season, so who cares right?). Anyway, she suggested I start watching it. I hesitated. I doubted I would like it. It looked too, oh, I don't know, schmaltzy. 

I watched the first episode of Season 1 with very little enthusiasm or hope that I would eventually like it. It was so formulaic and saccharine. It took some convincing for me to watch the second and third episodes. Then, slowly, it crept up on me. 

At about episode four, I began deciphering the foundations being built for future drama, and my curiosity was aroused. So I kept watching... and watching.... and watching. And now, shit me, I'm addicted to this freakin' show! My step-daughter and I watched eleven episodes on Saturday and eight more on Sunday. Yeah, we're hard core.

We start Season 2 tonight and I am pumped! The thought of five more whole seasons of this new drug has sent me into TV euphoria. It's almost as good as the massive clusterf*ck of amazing TV we got when we signed up for HBO and The Movie Network last summer. 

One Tree Hill is clearly targeted toward teens and young adults but for a TV addict such as myself, especially prone to serial TV series, it's like crack cocaine. It gives me that much sought after high, that sense of constant bliss, of complete disconnection from the real world. Is that wrong? 

I fear my step-daughter and I may be found, weeks from now, in a TV-induced coma, our bodies etched into the couch, chip bags and empty pizza boxes strewn about, sipping two-litre bottles of root beer through colourful, plastic straws, wondering what day it is. But ask us anything about One Tree Hill, and we'll know the answer.

Damn you teen drama! Why you gotta be so good?

Gay actors playing it straight: fact or fiction?

The Internet is abuzz today with various parties commenting on what appears to be a homophobic article in Newsweek by columnist Ramin Setoodeh who basically stated that gay actors shouldn't play straight parts, using as a prime example Sean Hayes' performance in the current Broadway revival of Promises, Promises in which Sean plays a straight man. 

If you're wondering who Sean Hayes is, remember "Just Jack!" from Will and Grace? That's him. Of course, he was brilliant in that show as the ultra-flaming Jack McFarland. But to say that he can't play it straight after a highly successful gay part is like saying I can't play a boy after having played a high-profile female role.

There's a reason they're called actors. They act like other people, gay, straight or otherwise. Mr. Setoodeh also criticizes the Glee team for casting an openly gay actor as their new male lead. Honestly, I didn't know the dude was gay until I read about Setoodeh and his incendiary Newsweek article. Obviously, said actor plays a very convincing heterosexual.

Jane Lynch is also gay, a fact I just recently discovered. Does this change my perception of Glee's Sue Sylvester? No. Because Jane is a kick-ass actress. Sue likes men and I totally buy it. Jane also played a noteworthy part in the 40-year-old Virgin in which she, most believably, chases a piece of Steve Carrell's ass.

Also, no one's telling Tom Cruise he can't play heterosexual parts. Some commented that there are no gay actors of say, George Clooney's stature around. Umm, no one thought of Tom? So he's not out of the closet yet, big deal. Would it kill his career if he were to come out?

 He's even photographed in closets. Metaphor my ass.

Miley Cyrus prepping for future career in adult entertainment

Sometimes, it's like I have a crystal ball and can see into the future. See this post from a few months ago, and then this one. Oh Miley, you're only seventeen but already practicing your stripper moves on a gay 44-year-old producer. Let's face it, you can take the girl out of the trailer park but you can't take the trailer park out of the girl. Just like her mullet-sporting daddy back in his "achy-breaky" days. 

First, pole-dancing at an awards show, now grinding up against someone who's easily old enough to be her daddy. Maybe she calls him that too... you know, like he says: "Who's your daddy?" and she responds: "You are." Ick... 

The fact that said producer is gay does not make this any less disturbing. She's 17! And she was 16 at the time of their dry hump party. Technically, still a child, not quite an adult just yet. The close-up of their grind fest in the TMZ video is most disturbing. A 44-year-old male rubbing his cock up against a 16-year-old's behind is just wrong.

I'm beginning to think the gay thing is just a cover. Adam (pervy producer man) seemed to be enjoying their "dancing" a little too much. If he is in fact gay, that still doesn't justify molesting a minor in public. 

Dirty dancing certainly has its place, like in clubs, where it's assumed all those given permission to enter are at least of legal drinking age. I'm not naïve enough to believe there are no under-agers in bars but when you lie to get into an unsupervised, booze-infested adult playground, you takes your chances, and that's your problem.

But at a movie wrap party? With young children in attendance? It reeks of unrefined, trailer trash behavior. People who were raised by wolves act this way. Do wolves have a penchant for mullets? Just askin'... 

Mark my words... Miley will be doing this in a few years,

only naked and without a microphone.

Aspiring fame whores take note...

I want to kick myself for having missed this amid the frenzy of NHL hockey playoffs and the haze of too much wine. I'm tickled pink that Betty White kicked some serious ass on SNL over the weekend. I had no doubt she would but the fact that an 88-year-old woman breathed new life into SNL causes me to ponder Hollywood's obsession with youth and physical appearance. Why not focus on talent and uniqueness? Ultimately, that's what matters.

Not that Betty White isn't an attractive woman. She is, and at 88 she's lookin' fabulous. But she's not some pre-fab barbie like say, Heidi Montag. And where did Heidi get the idea that her current freak show figure is something to aspire to? Of course, her plastic surgery saga could simply be a ploy to prolong her tenuous fame which is based on some crap reality show that will soon be ending. 

Betty White is the real deal and there's the difference. This dame has talent. She's interesting, charming and funny. And there's a legitimate reason she's famous. There are far fewer legit celebrities out there these days and more and more reality TV fame whores who are simply seeking to extend their 15 minutes in the spotlight much to our dismay, i.e. the latest Bachelor Jake Pavelka, Kate Gosselin, the Kardashians, etc...

To all young women out there, I would say: stop obsessing about your body and your status on the food chain. Eat well, stay active, get enough rest and be nice to your friends. If you need to obsess about something, obsess about getting a life, about developing your own unique skills and abilities. This will make you a star, wherever you are. Look at Betty White. She's rockin' it at 88. 'Nuff said.

The people have spoken. Bimbos are out. Legendary talent is in.

Pamela Anderson is golden

My dearest Sassies,

I will leave this with you to contemplate over the weekend. I feel anything I have to say would be superfluous to what any intelligent person is thinking.

Peace out y'all...

Lost in Weeds

I SO called this in yesterday's post, and by "mildly retarded" I meant "mental disorder", obviously...

In other big news, Elizabeth Perkins is leaving Weeds after five seasons to pursue other projects. This saddens me greatly. What will Weeds be without Celia Hodes? (Spoiler alert!!) Granted, Conrad and Helia have been MIA for the last two seasons and the show has moved on, impressively, I might add.

But Celia? That hurts. How could Elizabeth want to leave this show? It kicks ass! I'm sure there's another story here just beneath the surface that we don't know about. You don't voluntarily leave a hit show unless you're David Caruso, and even he's learned his lesson, as proven by his long stint on CSI: Miami.

If you've never seen Weeds, you must. I'm giving you a homework assignment. Go rent the series, buy it, upload it, do whatever you have to do. There are currently five seasons, and they are all so f*cking AWESOME. Season Six is premiering this summer on Showtime.

I suspect brother-in-law Andy will be your favorite character, followed by Doug (played brilliantly by Kevin Nealon, a former SNL-er). I can't put into words how sublime Justin Kirk is as Andy. This guy, he's the shit. He was also amazing in Angels in America (you can rent that too... a little more serious, but good nonetheless). This is definitely an ensemble show, and they all rock it, but we always have favorites.

Weeds is quality TV, as opposed to crap TV. Don't get me wrong. I watch crap TV. I know that the new season of the Bachelorette kicks off on May 24, and I'm counting down the days. But luckily, I know the difference. I'm fully aware that crap TV is crap. I suspect the general populace does not make this distinction. This disturbs me. 

Watch Weeds. You'll thank me for it. 

Don't worry, this show won't let your brain go to pot.

If it would stop Heidi Montag, I would eat poo

There are some things so preposterous, I tend to simply not believe them. Like this. Heidi must be stopped. Someone needs to kidnap her and deflate her already overly-bulging bosom. I think she may be mildly retarded. There is no other explanation. 

And now Heidi's considering a trip to Europe to make her boobs and her reputation as a bad plastic surgery joke even bigger. Aren't there laws against this? Heidi should be charged with assault causing bodily harm - to herself.

On another note, the Parents Television Council, some "family-oriented" group is complaining about the latest Family Guy episode, its 150th, in which Brian eats Stewie's poo, licks his butt clean and, oh yeah, also eats Stewie's vomit. 

Personally, I thought it was one of the most brilliant episodes ever since Stewie and Brian are my favorite characters. Of course, this group doesn't mention Brian's initial reticence at having to eat Stewie's poo, and his sad look of defeat once it was all over. And it's not like Brian randomly ate poo. They were trapped in a bank vault. Would you want to endure the smell of poo if you didn't have to? He did it to spare both of them the stench of Stewie's bowel movement due to the uncertainty surrounding the length of their sojourn in the vault. 

There were also other great moments, like when they shared a bottle of scotch, pierced Stewie's ear and played with a handgun.

Of course it's offensive! Family Guy's brilliance lies in its ability to shock and dismay as well as entertain. If you don't like it, don't watch it. The members of these "family groups" are usually the worst offenders anyway. They're the ones having homosexual encounters in department store bathroom stalls or leading secret lives as online porn stars because they're so f*cking repressed. 

Don't judge. You never know. Someday you might have to eat poo too.

 Keep on rockin' in the free world!

Angel's wings have fallen

I'm a huge Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel fan. I cherish these shows. They are witty, intelligent and highly entertaining. And now, this. WTF David!

You're worried about your marriage being tainted? You have forever tainted my opinion of you, not to mention the optics through which I view you on Buffy and Angel. Sure, you're playing a character, but it will always be in the back of my mind now. Cheater, cheater, cheater! You have permanently altered my Buffy/Angel experience. Happy now?

How could you join the ranks of Tiger Woods and Jesse James? Why, David, why? Because your wife was preggers and got a little... rounder for a few months? Because some skanky ho threw herself at you and you figured: Hey, why not? I expected more from you. I expected better than this. 

And now you come clean because your mistress threatened to go public? Oh David. I used to think you were hot shit. I wanted to be Buffy so I would get to make out with you. Thank God we didn't hook up, and you didn't break my heart. Hey, it could've happened. 

Was Hollywood always so infested with liars and cheaters or is it that they're just more exposed now? This is disheartening to say the least, a blow to the Buffy/Angel legacy and to a new generation of Bones fans.  

You're dead to me now. And not in a hot, vampire kind of way. 

More like a maggot infested, rotting corpse kind of way.

Fashion intervention

It all started with a simple idea. I was going to reduce the clutter in my dresser and closet by going through my clothes and donating to charity items I no longer wear. Five hours later, I had succumbed to a full-on fashion intervention by my boyfriend and step-daughter and emerged from the mall with a new wardrobe. Had TV cameras been present, yesterday afternoon would have been a What Not To Wear episode from start to finish.

Apparently, I buy clothes that are too big for me. What can I say, I guess I'm kinda shy about highlighting my assets, however displayable they may be. The only exception to this is my yoga gear. For some reason, I'm perfectly comfortable walking around in public in skin-tight Lululemons. Go figure.

As for the rest of my wardrobe... I got the waist taken in on at least a dozen pairs of pants. I thought I could save them. Some I bought at Value Village because they were brand name pants in good condition and super cheap. I didn't care if they fit, I told myself, I'd wear a belt - problem solved. Other items there was just no excuse for, like my faux-fur animal print coat. It was the shit. I thought... 

About two-thirds of my wardrobe ended up going to charity necessitating an emergency shopping trip so I'd have something to wear to work the next day. My stylist (a.k.a. step-daughter) and I hit up RW & Co., American Apparel, Smart Set and Aritzia. I am now trendier than trendy, totally ahead of the curb, hip, hop, happenin'. 

You know when you're shopping for clothes and you realize you've grown (up or out) and have to go up a size or two or three... it was like that, except in reverse. 

I had to accept that I was not a medium or a large, I was an extra, extra small. I was no longer a size 10, 11 or 12 but a 3, 4 and 5. When did this happen? I've never lost a lot of weight. I didn't go on some crazy diet. The only logical answer was that I've never actually bought clothes that fit. It was a wondrous and strange experience, one that has changed my life forever.

My story should be featured on Oprah... just sayin'.