It ain't easy being Chickezie...
And he tried, he really tried, but, at the end of the day, you just can't be something you're not. First it was the bulging eyes - remember in the auditions? It was funny - not haha, but strange. But he worked on it. He battled his bulge too. And when he went all southern and fun he had us on our figurative feet. But he couldn't resist the lure of Luther. The crooner. The balladeer. The snore and a half....
And off he went. A shock? Maybe. But Country Bumpkin Cook is working the ditz. And working it well. The minute she opened her mouth to sing that patriotic crap, you knew she was a shoo-in. For at least another week. It was one of those moments where you wished Idol was truly international. God Bless the USA??? Gag gag gag me. Not that I have anything against the USA - I actually don't. Not a lot, anyway. Except for those flag-waving, 4th of July-ish ditties. I can't deal with 'em from any place. I wanted Simon to rip her a new one - or sing Rule Britannia at the very least - but even he liked it.
FIX!!!
But my boys did well. Not Stoner Dreads - is it me, or was he really high last night? Did you see him dancing during the opening number? Worth a rewind - hilarious. But I think the goofiness is starting to grate. Just a bit. My faves are the opnes that are almost interchangeable. And yet....not. The Hot One and The Comb Over. Love 'em both. In fact, I don't even care who goes, as long as it's not one of those grown-ups. I've grown to love the Word Nerd. I hated him at first, but look at him now? Backlash has begun, but not at my house! And yeah, I know the Aussie's looks are better than his voice...So what?! Unfortunately, I think Earnest Archeletto's got the gig sewn up. I shudder to think of the song choices in his (and our) future, but it ain't over 'til it's over.
And the ladies? Erm, whatever.
So, so long Chickezie. And get yer ear plugs ready - Dolly Parton's coming to town...
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC - PART II
Well do you? Not gadget wizardry - everybody believes in that (for a couple days anyway). I'm talking magic magic. Magicians and bunnies and ladies sawn in half.
Any takers?
Most folks know that magic tricks can somehow be explained. And while a magician will never reveal his secrets, a bit of cash sometimes helps. Y'know the old vanishing-hanky trick? I do. And such knowledge made me, at one time, the most popular travelling white chick in Southeast Asia! The fact that my companion had the greatest dimples that side of the so-called Bamboo Curtain didn't hurt either. I must say, we were quite the hit. Madonna? Move over...
But I digress....
I went to a company Christmas...I mean, holiday party... a few weeks ago. Yes, a few weeks ago. The hosts are not always known for their punctuality. But better late than never, right? Anyhoo, at this soiree, aside from the regular canapes, drinks, and awkward small talk, was a strange-looking guy dressed all in black. I seem to remember a red tie, ut I might be making that part up. He did have platinum blond hair. And seemed to know fewer people than I did. Now there's a feat!
As it turned out, he was The Entertainment. Also known as.....Chris...he soon corrected our host. Also known as: The Great Mysterion!!!! I don't know if he uses the "great" part but trust me, he was. Un-f&cking-believable. He approached our table and asked my man - a true non-believer to be sure - to write down his favourite rock star on a piece of paper. Mysterion thought for a moment, scribbled something, and then da-na-na'd his way through a bit of Led Zeppelin before opening his paper and announcing the name Jimmy Page. My man opened his piece of paper and --Do I need to spell it out for you? J-i-m-m-y. P-a-g-e.
Not convinced? Neither was I. Actually, I totally was. I love this stuff. But I wanted him to work his magic on me. So he did. Told me I was a reader (I was!! I am!!) and asked me to write down a word associated with the book I was reading. I smiled evilly - little did he know that the book I was reading hadn't even been published in Canada! In paperback anyway. I picked it up in London. No one had ever heard of it here. Hee hee. Mysterion? HA! Get ready to be stumped!!!
I wrote down the word "office" (the book was set in an ad agency) Mysterion paced. He closed his eyes. He wrote something down in his little notebook, tore out the page and folded it up. He asked me the name of the book. When I told him "And Then we Came to the End", he shook his head. never heard of it. And he opened his little piece of paper and I opened mine. And guess what? They both said "office".
Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!
He went on to dazzle the crowd. People's birthdays? That's for beginners. This guy was identifying types of cards in wallets. While blindfolded. Laminated obscure id's and family photos - names and dates included. He was getting people to pluck single words out of 300-page novels. And getting them right, every time. Even the naysayers had to admit it was pretty neat.
And yet still there were skeptics! Honestly, what did this guy have to do to prove himself? Some things simply cannot be explained, right? These weren't mere card tricks or slights of hand - tho' he could (and did) do those too. Card after card after card. They weren't simply illusions... Tho' he did, to the chagrin of the waiters, twist a helluva lot of forks that night. No, this was creepy, unexplained stuff. Phenomenons....na....whatever.
He had an audience volunteer place a spike under a styrofoam cup. Then he blindfolded himself and proceeded to smash the cups down one after the next. With each collapsing cup you'd hear the collective intake of breath - even the naysayers liked this one, cuz physical harm was involved. Twisted? Maybe. But he got it right, leaving the last, spiked, one standing. And me with palms sweating. He of course was cooooool as The Fonz.
And on it went. The biggest naysayers? Always someone's date trying to prove themselves...Go figure....They soon lost interest in him, turning to drink. A wise choice, 'cuz they were getting boring. But he sure as hell wasn't. And when his stint was done, and he'd said his good-byes, we all knew the party was over.
And there you have it. How'd he do that? Why doesn't he play the tables in Vegas? Or at least Rama? Does he read fortunes? Do police work? No one knows...
It's all a mystery... It's ma-a-a-a-a-a-gic.
And a lot more entertaining than being a spousal side dish at a company party....
Any takers?
Most folks know that magic tricks can somehow be explained. And while a magician will never reveal his secrets, a bit of cash sometimes helps. Y'know the old vanishing-hanky trick? I do. And such knowledge made me, at one time, the most popular travelling white chick in Southeast Asia! The fact that my companion had the greatest dimples that side of the so-called Bamboo Curtain didn't hurt either. I must say, we were quite the hit. Madonna? Move over...
But I digress....
I went to a company Christmas...I mean, holiday party... a few weeks ago. Yes, a few weeks ago. The hosts are not always known for their punctuality. But better late than never, right? Anyhoo, at this soiree, aside from the regular canapes, drinks, and awkward small talk, was a strange-looking guy dressed all in black. I seem to remember a red tie, ut I might be making that part up. He did have platinum blond hair. And seemed to know fewer people than I did. Now there's a feat!
As it turned out, he was The Entertainment. Also known as.....Chris...he soon corrected our host. Also known as: The Great Mysterion!!!! I don't know if he uses the "great" part but trust me, he was. Un-f&cking-believable. He approached our table and asked my man - a true non-believer to be sure - to write down his favourite rock star on a piece of paper. Mysterion thought for a moment, scribbled something, and then da-na-na'd his way through a bit of Led Zeppelin before opening his paper and announcing the name Jimmy Page. My man opened his piece of paper and --Do I need to spell it out for you? J-i-m-m-y. P-a-g-e.
Not convinced? Neither was I. Actually, I totally was. I love this stuff. But I wanted him to work his magic on me. So he did. Told me I was a reader (I was!! I am!!) and asked me to write down a word associated with the book I was reading. I smiled evilly - little did he know that the book I was reading hadn't even been published in Canada! In paperback anyway. I picked it up in London. No one had ever heard of it here. Hee hee. Mysterion? HA! Get ready to be stumped!!!
I wrote down the word "office" (the book was set in an ad agency) Mysterion paced. He closed his eyes. He wrote something down in his little notebook, tore out the page and folded it up. He asked me the name of the book. When I told him "And Then we Came to the End", he shook his head. never heard of it. And he opened his little piece of paper and I opened mine. And guess what? They both said "office".
Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!
He went on to dazzle the crowd. People's birthdays? That's for beginners. This guy was identifying types of cards in wallets. While blindfolded. Laminated obscure id's and family photos - names and dates included. He was getting people to pluck single words out of 300-page novels. And getting them right, every time. Even the naysayers had to admit it was pretty neat.
And yet still there were skeptics! Honestly, what did this guy have to do to prove himself? Some things simply cannot be explained, right? These weren't mere card tricks or slights of hand - tho' he could (and did) do those too. Card after card after card. They weren't simply illusions... Tho' he did, to the chagrin of the waiters, twist a helluva lot of forks that night. No, this was creepy, unexplained stuff. Phenomenons....na....whatever.
He had an audience volunteer place a spike under a styrofoam cup. Then he blindfolded himself and proceeded to smash the cups down one after the next. With each collapsing cup you'd hear the collective intake of breath - even the naysayers liked this one, cuz physical harm was involved. Twisted? Maybe. But he got it right, leaving the last, spiked, one standing. And me with palms sweating. He of course was cooooool as The Fonz.
And on it went. The biggest naysayers? Always someone's date trying to prove themselves...Go figure....They soon lost interest in him, turning to drink. A wise choice, 'cuz they were getting boring. But he sure as hell wasn't. And when his stint was done, and he'd said his good-byes, we all knew the party was over.
And there you have it. How'd he do that? Why doesn't he play the tables in Vegas? Or at least Rama? Does he read fortunes? Do police work? No one knows...
It's all a mystery... It's ma-a-a-a-a-a-gic.
And a lot more entertaining than being a spousal side dish at a company party....
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
OH...NURSE!
I can't hold out any longer. My need to discuss Idol far outweighs the temptation to wait until the top 10 start dropping like flies. In fact, we're down to the Top 10 now, so technically, the con is back on and it's Idol time!!!! Let's discuss... Come on people - you know there've been requests... The persy emails have been flying. The phone calls, endless.
OK, not exactly what you'd call having a life, but Idol fans are Idol fans. And Idol haters are Idol fans too - they just don't know it yet. Or else won't admit it - especially if they know who the contestants are. It takes more than a passing glance at People to know who's who...
So The Nurse is gone. And, in all likelihood, forgotten. Maybe she'll live the dream and sell out that bar in Lafayette. Doubtful, but maybe. My bet is she's back on her Hog, hopefully ditching the Morticia Adams' extensions and waiting for Rockstar's return.
Meanwhile, we were treated to the new 'n improved Kelly Pickler. God bless her. She knew how to work her 15 episodes of fame. New hair, new face, new boobs. New life. Being stupid was brilliant. Best. Career. Move. Ever. More than having a parent in prison (Pickler's Pops). Better than a newborn baby (last year's Baldy. With the hat.) Even a dying/dead father couldn't sompete (Asiah...Who? Exactly!) Now the Pickled One's giving it her all, channeling La Parton and going on tour. And she didn't even need to change her name!!!! Somehow I can't see the Nurse having the same luck. Or making it for herself.
Which is a shame, 'cuz I kinda liked her. I did!! I was pumped to see the back of Kristy Non-descripty. No, pervs, not in that way. I hate a country gal. Sorry, but it's true. And yet, she survives another week.
I must say, I'm not all that surprised. You know my theory: we need someone to hate to make Idol all the more watchable. Let's face it, Beatles Week 2 didn't slay us in the aisles, did it? But when you've got a lame duck around threatening the good 'uns... Hell - that's good tv!! That's why VoteForTheWorst.com is necessary - keeps the voters on their toes and f&cks with all of us. Who doesn't love a bit of outrage - remember Jennifer Hudson? Voted off before her time and look at her now. Or Daughtry, nee Chris Daughtry: early to leave, early to score. I can see that happening with Rocker Dave. Or Irish Carly.
(Aside: Is my mind playng tricks on me, or she morphing into Boy George?Fat Felon version?)
But back to the blonde. The tomboy/horsey one, Kristy Mc-Whatsit. If she sticks around, we'll be stuck with more country-lite versions of songs we'll never love again. Par for the course, of course. And, sure, there'll be the morning-after-the-night-before watercooler convo. And on-line outrage.
But I shall leave you with one last thought. One last thing to make you giggle and hope she does stick around, sticking it to her talented brothers and sisters.
She's gonna "blow Simon out of his socks".
Need I say more?
OK, not exactly what you'd call having a life, but Idol fans are Idol fans. And Idol haters are Idol fans too - they just don't know it yet. Or else won't admit it - especially if they know who the contestants are. It takes more than a passing glance at People to know who's who...
So The Nurse is gone. And, in all likelihood, forgotten. Maybe she'll live the dream and sell out that bar in Lafayette. Doubtful, but maybe. My bet is she's back on her Hog, hopefully ditching the Morticia Adams' extensions and waiting for Rockstar's return.
Meanwhile, we were treated to the new 'n improved Kelly Pickler. God bless her. She knew how to work her 15 episodes of fame. New hair, new face, new boobs. New life. Being stupid was brilliant. Best. Career. Move. Ever. More than having a parent in prison (Pickler's Pops). Better than a newborn baby (last year's Baldy. With the hat.) Even a dying/dead father couldn't sompete (Asiah...Who? Exactly!) Now the Pickled One's giving it her all, channeling La Parton and going on tour. And she didn't even need to change her name!!!! Somehow I can't see the Nurse having the same luck. Or making it for herself.
Which is a shame, 'cuz I kinda liked her. I did!! I was pumped to see the back of Kristy Non-descripty. No, pervs, not in that way. I hate a country gal. Sorry, but it's true. And yet, she survives another week.
I must say, I'm not all that surprised. You know my theory: we need someone to hate to make Idol all the more watchable. Let's face it, Beatles Week 2 didn't slay us in the aisles, did it? But when you've got a lame duck around threatening the good 'uns... Hell - that's good tv!! That's why VoteForTheWorst.com is necessary - keeps the voters on their toes and f&cks with all of us. Who doesn't love a bit of outrage - remember Jennifer Hudson? Voted off before her time and look at her now. Or Daughtry, nee Chris Daughtry: early to leave, early to score. I can see that happening with Rocker Dave. Or Irish Carly.
(Aside: Is my mind playng tricks on me, or she morphing into Boy George?Fat Felon version?)
But back to the blonde. The tomboy/horsey one, Kristy Mc-Whatsit. If she sticks around, we'll be stuck with more country-lite versions of songs we'll never love again. Par for the course, of course. And, sure, there'll be the morning-after-the-night-before watercooler convo. And on-line outrage.
But I shall leave you with one last thought. One last thing to make you giggle and hope she does stick around, sticking it to her talented brothers and sisters.
She's gonna "blow Simon out of his socks".
Need I say more?
Thursday, March 13, 2008
BOOTS MADE FOR (WINTER) WALKING
April showers bring May flowers.
So what do March snowstorms bring?
Not a lotta good, that's what. Icy roads. Snowdrifts taller than most children (and seated seniors). Unpassable sidewalks. An extension of the winter blahs. A renewed interest in weather patterns, records and our role in all of it.
And an excuse to go out and buy new boots. La Canadienne boots.
You haven't heard of 'em yet? Or you have, but didn't bite? Whichever, whatever, whoever you are - go go go. Now is the time to bite the bullet, spend the big bucks and spend the rest of this never ending winter in style: toes toasty, feet dry and - believe it or not -in style.
Let's face it, winter is an ugly time. Sure the snow looks pretty falling down, and when it's all white and clean it's quite peaceful. But really, how long does that last? Virgin snow lawns soon give way to grey slush, black ice and worse. The whole season can take its toll on a girl. Especially a footwear girl and, really - are there any other kinds?
I tried Uggs. Of course they're comfy - they'd better be if they're that ugly. The suede ones don't keep your feet dry and the leather ones I had were so halucious they lasted but a season. Yeah, I was that person who went for the leather. Probably the only one. There's a reason you don't see more of 'em. H-I-D-E-O-U-S. I tried putting substance before style. It wasn't easy, And it didn't last.
So I ruined a pair of hot boots. Froze my tootsies off and wrecked 'em. And for what? So I tried again. This time, went for Sorels. Hard-core Canadian boots. For hard-core Canadian winters. And yeah, I stayed warm (ish) and dry. But again, not the most attractive. Or feminine. Even the long ones that we pretend are kinda like go-go boots aren't. Not even close.
And then, it happened. A friend of mine discovered winter lady-boots. Lady boots...winter... Contradiction in terms, right? Wrong! La Canadienne boots are warm, cozy, and, dare I say it - kinda hot. In all the right ways. I admit I was skeptical at first, especially with the upwards of $200 price tag. But after another winter of alternating between salt-stained whore or hefty hefty slush slag, a couple hun seemed a small price to pay to be a cozy snow bunny.
My high-to-the-sky lady boots rock. And they work. I'm not sure how - some kind of secret recipe of ultrasuede, rubber and god-knows-what. Who cares? They look fantastic! And trust me kids, they really, really work the winter. And despite their all-kinds-of-hotness, they're pretty basic. So even if everyone's wearing the same boots - you can't really tell. Which beats the hell out of showing up for dinner in your foxy furries - along with half the other girls.
Now that that we're entering our fifth month of winter, maybe it's time for a quick shoe shuffle. Snowbanks to climb? Easy. Salt stains and splash back? Laugh it off - they fit over calves of all shapes and sizes. Heels? They've got 'em. And need I mention they're Canadian?
Are you still here? They're on sale all over town. If you can still find what's left of them. It's mid-March after all. What are you waiting for?
So what do March snowstorms bring?
Not a lotta good, that's what. Icy roads. Snowdrifts taller than most children (and seated seniors). Unpassable sidewalks. An extension of the winter blahs. A renewed interest in weather patterns, records and our role in all of it.
And an excuse to go out and buy new boots. La Canadienne boots.
You haven't heard of 'em yet? Or you have, but didn't bite? Whichever, whatever, whoever you are - go go go. Now is the time to bite the bullet, spend the big bucks and spend the rest of this never ending winter in style: toes toasty, feet dry and - believe it or not -in style.
Let's face it, winter is an ugly time. Sure the snow looks pretty falling down, and when it's all white and clean it's quite peaceful. But really, how long does that last? Virgin snow lawns soon give way to grey slush, black ice and worse. The whole season can take its toll on a girl. Especially a footwear girl and, really - are there any other kinds?
I tried Uggs. Of course they're comfy - they'd better be if they're that ugly. The suede ones don't keep your feet dry and the leather ones I had were so halucious they lasted but a season. Yeah, I was that person who went for the leather. Probably the only one. There's a reason you don't see more of 'em. H-I-D-E-O-U-S. I tried putting substance before style. It wasn't easy, And it didn't last.
So I ruined a pair of hot boots. Froze my tootsies off and wrecked 'em. And for what? So I tried again. This time, went for Sorels. Hard-core Canadian boots. For hard-core Canadian winters. And yeah, I stayed warm (ish) and dry. But again, not the most attractive. Or feminine. Even the long ones that we pretend are kinda like go-go boots aren't. Not even close.
And then, it happened. A friend of mine discovered winter lady-boots. Lady boots...winter... Contradiction in terms, right? Wrong! La Canadienne boots are warm, cozy, and, dare I say it - kinda hot. In all the right ways. I admit I was skeptical at first, especially with the upwards of $200 price tag. But after another winter of alternating between salt-stained whore or hefty hefty slush slag, a couple hun seemed a small price to pay to be a cozy snow bunny.
My high-to-the-sky lady boots rock. And they work. I'm not sure how - some kind of secret recipe of ultrasuede, rubber and god-knows-what. Who cares? They look fantastic! And trust me kids, they really, really work the winter. And despite their all-kinds-of-hotness, they're pretty basic. So even if everyone's wearing the same boots - you can't really tell. Which beats the hell out of showing up for dinner in your foxy furries - along with half the other girls.
Now that that we're entering our fifth month of winter, maybe it's time for a quick shoe shuffle. Snowbanks to climb? Easy. Salt stains and splash back? Laugh it off - they fit over calves of all shapes and sizes. Heels? They've got 'em. And need I mention they're Canadian?
Are you still here? They're on sale all over town. If you can still find what's left of them. It's mid-March after all. What are you waiting for?
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