Who the hell's that blonde sans bra you ask? Why it's former Playmate Jillian Grace, age 22. She's pregnant, and allegedly David Spade's the father. Yes, that David Spade.
UM?!
What's been going on in the past two years is a really poor attempt to re-create The Baby Boomer generation. I mean, are these female celebs' husbands/boyfriends/lovers coming back home from the war or some shit? Is this the only way to make a woman in the entertainment industry the talk of the town again?
No one knew who the hell this kid was (unless, of course, you're an avid reader of Playboy magazine) until this mess. I mean, if you aren't talking about Britney Spears, you're talking about another woman getting preggers, i.e. Nicole Kidman, Lily Allen, Jessica Alba, Matthew McConaughey's new lady, Halle Barry, Britney's 10-year-old sis, yada.
Then you got news of Christina Aguilera and Nicole Ritchie having babies on the same day. What the hell, is this mating season? It's like, "Well, since adopting babies from Africa has gone out of style, I guess I should use my own uterus to bring life into this world, even if I'm not ready for motherhood, but, hey, it'll boost my star ratings."
First off, who's Mike Long, right? Right. Understandable question. I'd like to answer that in the typical Amber style of answering such complicated questions: with a story.
Remember when Sufjan Stevens made that ridiculous declaration of musical independence in 2005 by saying he's gonna make his next 50 albums about states, including his Michigan and Illinois project? And remember how everyone melted at his every word since then, not even caring about the fact that Illinois was mildly mediocre in comparison to his previous albums, yet it was his most famous and gained him mainstream recognition?
Yeah. That was so ambitious of him, until, of course, he was like, "Oh, guess what, kids? That was all a lie. Just needed some press. It gets kinda awkward performing onstage when there's nothing but Christian hipsters in the audience wearing 'No bing-bing until bling-bling!' tees and thinking I speak to them because I mention God in my songs, so I figured I could broaden my listeners to hipsters who like gossip." And, by George, he did a fantastic job. I'm glad he got the fame--I like the kid--but I still like reminding people that, once again, Illinois was mediocre-ish. Actually, I'll give him more credit than that. I really loved the album when he performed only the best songs live, and he's a good show.
In short, nobody will ever believe such bogus claims again. Unless, of course, you actually follow through with them and blow people's brains out with your brilliance.
Like the homeboy pictured above. I'd like to point out the fact that he is doing something that lets everyone know you're about the business: the Andy Warhol photo layout. Everyone does it when they've made a huge impact on someone's life. It's just standard artistic rule, man. You just gotta do it, no questions asked. And Mr. Long did touch someone's life: mine.
See, I've been in the pits lately. Everything's been boring me mainly because of the excessive, unhealthy coverage of an obvious mentally unstable Britney Spears, and it's like, "Well, shit, do I talk about how much I'm not interested because the bottom line is she needs help?" Nah. Snore-zone. Or I could talk about Amy Winehouse going blonde. Beh. Or I could post daily videos and mp3's, even though I've been too scatterbrained to even pinpoint which new or old discovery I'd want to bring to light. Just too damn many for me to even begin. So I decided to rest.
So my homeboy at The Look-See sent me a video of Detroit show The Scene shot in 1982 of people dancing to A Number of Names' "Sharevari." I then saw a related video, and that's where it all began.
Apparently this 26-year-old Canadian kid made a pact on May 4, 2007 (just by conjecture because he said he wants to finish by May 4 of this year) to the lucky underground YouTube/Internet world by declaring that he would spend the next 365 (actually, you're cheating us, buddy, because it's a leap year) days dancing to a difference song, on camera, every single day. And, believe it or not, he's done 80 percent that shit. He's done over 250 videos and lemme tell ya, I'm quite pleased. He's got some great selections, too, ranging from the rambunctious Van Morrisson during his Them days, Love, Serge Gainsbourg (as well as his daughter, Charlotte), to underground hip-hoppers J Dilla, Madvillain and Edan, to underground dance rockers The Knife to mainstream diva Kelis. The list goes on, actually. Even if he doesn't make it to 365(6), doing over some 250-odd videos on dancing is incredible. Don't stop believin', brother. I hate that I quoted Journey to encourage you.
Some favorites (don't worry, the song titles will pop up as soon as you hit Play):
He's dancing with his grandma in this'n. Sweet.
And the video that got me hooked:
In short, I like Mike. The greatest thing about this project is the fact that he does the same dance with slight variations of it to different tunes. That, my friends, is true dancing. If we ever cross paths in life, he'd definitely be my dance partner. Dancing is a fierce way of self-expression that too many people are too shallow to appreciate these days. It makes me weep inside. I need to throw a dance party now, as well as remove his balls from my mouth because they sure as hell have been kept warm in it.
If you want to see more of this cat, you can go here, here and that Myspace link under his photo.
Man. The media will find any way to bring a successful person down, wouldn't they? And God forbid the successful entertainer has naturally tanned skin and is proud of it.
I understand the Steroids Witch Trials going on in the sports world, because, well, it's illegal, nevermind the fact that just about every motherfucker you see who went from scrawny outfielder or scrawny point guard or scrawny safety into buff macho cats within a six-month span. Yeah, it's pretty obvious. However, when you start attacking the entertainment industry with steroids allegations, it can get kinda dull, because, well, we've already been down that road that is now in need of new pavement.
The suspects? Mary J. Blige and 50 Cent (well, that wouldn't surprise me). Of course, let's attack these two because Blige's new album is killing the charts and with good reasoning--the shit's incredible--as well as 50 being the richest rapper of all time because of tapping into some clean, Vitamin water.
Also included is Wyclef Jean, Timbaland and Tyler Perry. Does anyone have time for this silly shit? I sure as hell don't.
I'm just really tired of this shit and it looks a little skewed to me seeing that the dominant suspects are all very successful black entertainers and athletes. I like how Barry Bonds was threatened to have his record-shattering 762 home runs with an asterisk by it, but it was all fun and games when Mark McGwire broke the single-season record in 1998 with 70. Yeah, they accused him of taking Androstenedione, a muscle-enhancer, in which he even admitted to taking the shit, it was swept under the rug. By the way--the more you enhance your muscles, the better you can hit, as well as the faster your big, muscle-laden ass can run. Y'know, kind of what steroids do.
And also notice that the people listed on the steroids suspect list: either they had a former drug problem and are clean now, or some just outright clean to begin with (marijuana doesn't count). Sure, these are just mere allegations, but as Village Voice stated on the case, it could just be another "PR nightmare."
Yeah, well, I'm already over it.
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In other news, as I stated before, Mary J. Blige's Growing Pains is a reallyreallyreallyreallyreallyreally solid album. As some of you may know, I'm a huge MJB fan, especially during her coked-out days, which is unfortunate to say because she was definitely struggling during those times, but let's be honest--she was making the best music of her life during 'em, too. Well, I think she was getting off that junk during Share My World, which I felt was the last great album she did.
Until this one. It took her 10 years to get back on the great status, even though she wasn't knocked down too hard with the albums in between--she still had really good hits on each of them, including Grammy-winning "Be Without You."
Anyway, my roomie and I were discussing that artists stop being awesome after they fall in love, which I agree at times, but MJB kills that theory with Growing Pains. She is so much stronger and has revealed the true her in this album. It's like My Life, Round 2. It's her version of Mariah Carey's Emancipation of Mimi. (Sidebar: MC's another bad bitch that I will always love no matter what.)
In short, MJB's great to me. Like most of my male friends who told me Nirvana's In Utero was the album that they grew up on, What's the 411 is easily mine's, hands down. So it would only make sense that I am always supportive of her success. Go 'head, girlfriend.
OK, not really, but I had this really surreal (obviously) dream about him. We were BFFs and he was still dating Vanessa Hudgens and I was like, "Hey, Zac, thanks for coming over to spend the night. I have something I want to tell you." And alluvasudden I spilled out how I cannot stand Vanessa and alluded the last time I hung out with 'em both and how she lashed out in front of him over something stupid and I said how she wasn't the right girl for him and he said, "Really? Well, who do you think is right for me?" And instead of saying something, I just kissed him.
And the only conclusion I came to about this dream as I woke up this morning was: I should never in my life wake up to Nickelodeon (watching Fairly Odd Parents, a very underrated show) and fall asleep to it (watching The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air marathons, a ritual I do every night, which should probably cease if I continue to have dreams about teenyboppers).
Well, last night's fresh episode of Ugly Betty was something. It reminded me exactly why I hold all bets off between the one-hour slot of 8-9p.m. EST on Thursday nights, because the shit is that damn good.
Throughout the two seasons of the show, the topic of weight is always mentioned, but there's never anything done about it. So Betty Suarez, the ever-ambitious woman that she is, finally puts her foot down and says, "Listen, dammit, I'm happy with my weight and there are other women who are too, so why can't we showcase the real women who have curves (point)?" Yep, she said all that verbatim.
Anyhow, it really touched me, because as I said before, people talk about the same shit all the time--either a woman's too fat or too skinny, but of course, there's a time where a magazine puts the token "beautiful fat woman" on the cover that boasts that she's "Plus-sized and loving it!" Do you really need to point out the fact that she loves to eat and has big hips and thighs and tits and ass to show that, in spite of all those flaws, she loves herself? Why is that so impressive? That's like saying, "For once, there's a woman who's actually content with how she looks!" Yeah, let's congratulate someone who's doing what they're supposed to do if they want to live a happy, fulfilling life. Makes no sense to me.
Anyway, it was a great episode because Betty felt the need to put this show on because she wanted to show the young teenage girls whom she was giving a tour of Mode for earlier that day, and she saw how the girls were saying they didn't want to eat lunch like the Mode models because they wanted to look thin and emaciated like them "oh-so-badly." She couldn't stand to see such a negative influence on the girls, which sparks her "real woman" idea.
Unfortunately, no matter how repetitious people can be about the unfairness of women dealing with the battle against the media and their body image, the cruelty will continue. Honestly, the only way this could end is if women would fight against it and start realizing how wonderful they are no matter what size they are, because the real indicator of greatness is confidence in ourselves. That's all it takes, kids. Allright, the motivational speech portion of this entry is finito.
In other Ugly Betty news: Although it's been super-obvious since mid-Season One, it's definitely getting clearer and clearer each episode: Daniel Meade totally wants Betty. Betty admires him because she sees the good in him and values their friendship, and Daniel is falling for her because of that. I mean, she is the only person in his life who's supported him morally and challenges his intelligence. And besides, the only reason why he was anti- her getting back together with Henry is because he wanted a shot with her.
That, or, this is the first real platonic relationship between a heterosexual male and female ever put onscreen, which is also incredibly possible. Which means my long-winded theory above is void.
Questions to ask until the next episode: Do you really believe Gene Simmons is Amanda father? That'd make for a juicy sub-plot, that's for damn sure.
Do you really believe Christina's gonna carry Bradford Meade's sperm that's inside of Wilhemina's eggs in order to receive the $100,000 she needs in order to save her husband from dying of liver cancer?
Why is David Blue who plays Cliff (Marc's boyfriend) in a Subway commercial? Eh, well, hey money is money. But I'd really like to see more lines from him because he's a good'un.
Will Wilhemina give it up? Actually, don't. You make the show really, really interesting.
When did Rebecca Romijn get so damn curvy? There's a back shot of her in the scene where she announces the "real women" models pitch to the press, and I just can't recall ever noticing her nice, firm ass and well-toned calves. OK, you got me--I got a female crush on her.
And why was it hot when Henry told Betty over the walkie-talkie that she should come over later and play with his black dragon, and even hotter when Daniel said, "Guys, we can all hear you on the radio!"?
Be sure to tune in next week, because it's looking scandalicious (whoa, did I just say...yikes):
Jeff Garlin of Curb Your Enthusiasm, right, at a WGAW rally.
Because it doesn't look too pretty with the ongoing writers' strike. It's actually getting real ugly, and I'm starting to get worried for these kids. If going without watching fresh episodes of my favorite shows in the remainder of the season means justice for writer's getting real paid, then I'll really--as well as the rest of America, I hope--will support 'em, because I never want to get in the way of something getting that paycheck. As some wise men once said, you can't make a dollar out of 15 cents, and sometimes you gotta say, "Fuck a dollar and a dream." Don't worry, it's relevant.
Anyhow, Axium, one of the entertainment industry's largest providers in payroll and accounting services filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy yesterday, sending a lot of its employees with dour hopes and loose pockets. Ain't that some shit? The Enron disease is still contagious, I see.
Axium Intl., the entertainment industry’s third-largest provider of payroll and accounting services, has closed unexpectedly and filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy.
Axium shuttered operations Tuesday, a day after its lenders froze the company’s bank accounts. Immediate impact was unclear, but some of the frozen funds included paychecks for film projects.
Director Charlie Matthau told Daily Variety that much of the money he was owed on the recently completed indie drama “Baby O” was frozen Tuesday.
“I was supposed to go pick up a $75,000 check from the DGA, until they told me there was this problem, that Axium had gone out of business and all the accounts were frozen, ” said the helmer, son of the late Walter Matthau. “I feel totally violated, and I’m hoping that the Guild will be able to help me.”
Matthau said Axium notified him recently that the money had been wired into his account.
“In fact, they’d done no such thing, and they were hiding this 400-pound gorilla of bankruptcy,” he added. “Because of that memo, I hope that the City Attorney or District Attorney looks into this. It has affected me and likely a whole lot of other people.”
A Chapter 7 bankruptcy filing is designed to govern the liquidation of company assets. Axium reps were not available for comment Tuesday, and the headquarters offices on Wilshire Boulevard were shuttered.
Axium president Ruben Rodriguez had left the firm. Axium employees were told Monday not to come to work until further notice, and if in contact with their clients, to tell them that Axium could no longer process their business.
OK, a little bit about myself before I explain the perplexing statement listed above.
I'm from Nashville, Tenn., born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my....wait, wait, that's not my song. Anyway, so it only makes sense that music is part of my life, being bred in the Music City and all. But the music that everyone associates Nashville which has always been the major drawback for me and one of the reason why I only stay for a few days whenever I visit my family. On top of that, my family resides in East Nashville, now the home of many "alt.country" artists and Hermitage, home of the Grand Ole Opry. So I can't escape the shit. The best I can do is to not say "y'all," which still slips out on rare occasions.
Having celebrate the CMTs every year as a kid and stomaching many mullets, cowboy boots and honky-tonks, it just was an uncomfortable background for me. I know, I know, most people escape the city they were raised in because of it was too rural or too metropolitan or too rich or too poor or too racist or too much crime, but I did it because I really hate how people still associate that place as the place where hairspray-laden, big-eyed aspiring country musicians go, or nowadays, alt.country musicians.
In the last few years people have recommended several artists that could possibly lie in the "alt.country" genre, and I'd immediately fight the urge to vomit and say, "Anything country is bad news." I mean, really, what's so "alternative" about it other than the fact that it has a groovier sound and more electric guitars?
But I eventually got over my initial period of instant rejection and let some alt.country music inside my earwaves (that's right). And although my alt.country taste is still limited, I'm gradually getting over the whole why-I-cannot-stand-Nashville-for-too-long-because-of-country-music syndrome. (Y'know, it's really a complicated situation, like my boys Black Rebel Motorcycle Club once said.) I even have a Wilco band tee, because I actually love them! And Loose Fur! And BRMC! And Tom Petty! Though, I sometimes confuse alt.country with straightforward rock.* For all I know, Springsteen's an alt.country artist.
With all that babbling said, I am starting to be a Kings of Leon fan, despite them being from the same city that started my skewed perception of alt.country, as well as being part of the genre that started my skewed perception of the city. It's a crazy world we live in.
I actually got into 'em one night after a homeboy was taking me home and he had a mix of all KoL tracks from various albums, and I was like, "Who the hell is this? This is sexy." And he told me it was them, and I got confused, because I thought I hated them, but deep down, it was the other way around. Caleb Followill's voice is ridiculous. I can listen to him sing for years--yes, years. He sounds like early Costello who had strep throat and and is now speaking for the first time in 10 years. If that doesn't sound enticing, I don't know what does.
*Any band/musician who is heavily or even subtly influenced by Southern rock is considered "alt.country" to me. The slightest bit of a "twangy" sound is flat-out alt.country to me. I know, I'm being discriminatory. Ain't right.
Because he gets to chronicle 30 consecutive days of legal pot-smoking while onset for his documentary, Super High Me. I can't make this stuff up. Nor can I wait 'til this puppy comes out.
I was super-pumped to watch the new Boondocks episode last night, and I saw that Adult Swim instead showed an episode from the first season. What the hell? It took me to watch the bootleg snippet on YouTube to see what the episode, titled "The Hunger Strike," was actually about, and some of the commentors on the video said that the episode got banned because it was about BET and puts a terribly negative light on it and yada, and others say it's because of the writers' strike, which shouldn't have been the case because if it was already written and it's supposed to air on a particular date, then that's the deal, I'd imagine. But apparently not.
All I know is my ass is in the dark and I'd like to get some light, please. Otherwise, I guess I'll have to wait 'til that mother is on DVD. Hate to say it, but it looks like McGruder may get the Dave Chappelle treatment, especially if he's talking about going to the web to further his voice.
And besides, if Family Guy got canceled for two and a half years, as well as Arrested Development, you think they'll keep this baby on longer than those? Camman. I'd love to be positive for Aaron, because what he's doing is great, but if his episodes are already getting banned, I'm just not so sure anymore.
Buddy just gets drunk and full off of international cuisines for a living! How can you not love his show, No Reservations? Especially with the double-meaning title (no reservations for dinner, no reservations of his thoughts). But he's had his fair share, man. After working in the restaurant industry for three years, I see what line cooks go through, especially when you already have a specialty to be a chef. So kudos, brother. And you're kinda hot, in that older Jeff Goldblum/Chris Noth way.
Album of the Week: The Renaissance (2008, Universal Motown)
You can never go wrong with Q-Tip. He never grows stale. He's got some great featured artists such as Raphael Saadiq (who also never grows stale), Norah Jones (man, she has expanded her resumé as great hip-hop hook singer, too) and D'Angelo. Yessss. From Track 1 to the ending Track 12, it's deliciously listenable.
One of the greatest songs ever written was by Phil Elvrum of now defunct band The Microphones. Listeners take a journey through Phil's life as he struggles to cope with the harsh, grotesque realities it presents him. Feeling disappointed and defeated, a sullen Phil accepts the fact he's still living; then, as if on cue, a grand epiphany comes aboard this self-discovering adventure, and BAM!--blood rushes through his veins, through his heart, and his chest is full of positive air! Phil loves everything tangible and intangible! He loves life! He hopes this feeling never ends! "I'm glowing!" he exclaims.
