As luck would have it (I didn’t say GOOD luck), I was sliding down the cable TV channel guide when I happened upon the Jenny McCarthy Show. Being a self-proclaimed connoisseur of the dark underbelly of popular culture, I figured that I owed it to myself to watch this train wreck of a TV show. In retrospect, this is one debt I probably will never be able to repay.
Jenny sets herself up as a boozy Hollywood floozy who invites other entertainment bottom-feeders to drink and chat up the latest nonstories and rumors that we, apparently, just cannot get enough of during our other 11 waking hours. Also on the show are a DJ (dig that phat disc-scratching, yo) and a gaggle of young, mostly female dancers that double as her studio audience. The prerequisites for such a prestigious job is to look good in club ware (or, in a few cases, under-ware) and being able to go, “Oooooooo” when Jenny or her compadres say something SCANDALOUS. Which by VH-1 contractual stipulation has to be every 15 seconds or less.
Joining our charming hostess on this night is a relatively funny woman (stated by me as such to draw a clear distinction between her and Jenny) from another VH-1 show, “Your Best Week Ever”. Another VH-1 show? Where did they ever find her? Also on the panel is a refugee from “Mob Wives”, wearing the requisite uniform of straight, black-really-is-my-natural-color hair, stiletto boots, black leather pants and jacket (with designer-placed safety pins because PUNK came back “in” while the rest of us weren’t looking). Thankfully, her lips were appropriately over-cologened or maybe we wouldn’t have recognized her from the TV show that brought her fame, fortune and bimonthly conjugal visits at the local low-security penitentiary.
My favorite quote from this “celebrity” was, “These mob guys are good because they are devoted to family. What they do outside the home is not my concern.” Who said morality is dead? Hey, she might wear an oversized, diamond encrusted cross but Jesus was no snitch, you know.
Overall, there were 2 distinct, central bits during the half hour that actually felt like an eternity. The first was a round-robin party game in which Jenny and the aforementioned guests had to stuff marshmallows and later whipped cream into their mouths after naming things from a given category. Fortunately, both versions gave the intrepid Jenny an opportunity to make the same “just another Friday night for me” joke as white stuff dribbled out from the corners of her lips. I love edgy humor that may or may not have sexual overtones, don’t you?
The second was Jenny’s interview with the Mob Wife, with both ladies laying on some pillows, faces practically touching and sucking on red Blow-pops. I think there were some allusions to sex there as well, but I cannot be sure. Perhaps the tipoff came when Jenny asked the Mob Wife if she ever was with another woman. Of course the latter said, “No!” (hey, Jesus was no lesbian either). Jenny countered by saying, “It’s just that sometimes women are yummy.”
After the show was over, and my apoplectic fit had subsided, I decided to make a short list of the things I could have done with the 30 minutes of my life that I unfortunately will never get back.
1. Gone to sleep at a reasonable hour for a 50-year-old.
2. Googled Jenny McCarthy autism-vaccination speeches for a real laugh.
3. Gone through my house and thrown out all red Blow-pops.
4. Called Jenny McCarthy at home. After all, it was just another Friday night for her.
I would like to review the cinematic classic, Ice Age 3: Continental Drift. Have you seen the previous two installments? No matter. Unless you are some kind of devolved troglodyte, you should be able to pick up the plot quickly. FORGETTING it will be another matter altogether. Unfortunately.
Apparently, we are supposed to be charmed by the choice of celebrities voicing the animated characters. Yes, I am enthralled by the realization that Prehistoric Rodent #5 is, in actuality, George Clooney. I’m sure it will be one of his cherished thespian moments as well.
But what good is seeing a movie such as this without the requisite yelling toddler sitting in front of me? “Why did the elephant do that, Mommy?” “Can I eat the candy on the floor, Mommy?” “Is this a poopie, Mommy?”
It was at that point when I decided to forgo my Zagnut bar. Can you blame me?
Probably the best part of the film is the relatively short running time. True, I will never get that 1 1/2 hours of my life back; however, left to my own devices, I probably would have wasted that time writing, napping, having sex or eating a good meal.
So, at least it wasn’t a total loss.
A while ago, I posted something about my cousin’s latest book. Well, I finally received it on Thanksgiving and finished reading it. After alerting my cousin to this fact (and the fact that I had written a Tumblr post about it), he asked for that link and a review on Amazon.
Considering that I did not have any paying writing gigs in the hopper (probably because I am a School Psychologist and not a professional writer —but I digress), I figured, “Sure, what the hay”. Anyway, my review will not appear for another couple of days on the site, if at all, pending my background check with the FBI. So, I’m posting a copy of it here:
Oh Waldo, Dan Kimmel’s Done It Again!
Having recently completed the lastest work in the Dan Kimmel canon, I have to say, this one may actually be among his 5 or 6 best*. Dan’s collection of essays explores many famous (and infamous) science fiction movies thematically. He spends significant amount of treespace defending science-fiction as a reputable film genre and indirectly, teaches the reader to differentiate between S/F and Sci-Fi.
And he does all this (and more) using a colloquial and easy-to-read style that belies his role as an academic of film studies. I’m sure that his students would be shocked to see him move beyond his typical lecturing bombast and write a book that even their parents could understand.
So, S/F true-believers and detractors all should buy and read this book. He might not change your opinion about science fiction films and their role in our society, but you will definitely enjoy the journey.
Note: For those of you who are concerned that this product might be unsafe, and therefore worthy of contacting U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC), channel your irrational fears elsewhere.
* - My cousin has only written 5 or 6 books total. I am sure he will love that quip.
Some random impressions:
1. Overall, I found it to be somewhat entertaining (except for those dry portions in the middle) and would be willing to tune in to next week’s episode.
2. The actor playing Barack Obama was quite convincing. If you closed your eyes, you would swear it was him.
3. The depiction of John Boehner was a little too understated for me. I would have had the actor wipe a tear from his eye—even if it was only due to a piece of dust. It certainly would have brought the character to life.
4. The plot was a bit difficult to follow. I hope we’re not in for another Lost here.
5. I kept on waiting for the wacky neighbor to barge in, but was repeatedly disappointed.
6. Not enough double entendres. It was Prime Time, after all.
1. The toilet paper is remarkably soft and forgiving for a public building.
2. The auto hand dryer sounds like a Howitzer when it cranks up.
3. They don’t make you buy something to eat in order to use their bathroom.
Now, I will never be mistaken for Roger Ebert, so I won’t even try by writing some long-winded review of last night’s MTV Awards.
In fact, I only watched 10 minutes of it, and so the laws of nature dictate that I cannot spend more time typing a review than I spent watching the godforsaken thing I am reviewing.
So what I will say is this:
I could find 10 people in my Twitter timeline at any time—day or night—that could write funnier jokes than Chelsea told during her opening monologue.
If I was Chelsea, I’d be looking for a new handler.