Thursday, March 30, 2006

ZOMG! The Drama!

Oh my god, you guys, you will not believe what happened to Chewboken today. It is utterly horrible and awful and some bitch is gonna pay. I mean, it's warranted stomping around in louder fashion than usual and shouting and lots of angry grunting, so much so that the roommates and I, who are in opposite ends of the apartment, have gotten the story just by sitting here and overhearing it without even trying to listen. I mean, I know it sucks to get a bad haircut but...Oh, I'm sorry, did I mention that? Yes, a bad haircut has warranted about as much rage and indignation as...I don't even know what.

Obviously, it's never going to grow back or anything, because he went on for at least a half hour about it.

As Carolyn yelled, "What do you want? She's a hairdresser, not a magician," then rolled her eyes and muttered "Somebody run upstairs and bring a box tampons."

Melissa: "Apparently they're all on the same cycle, just like us!"

Chewboken: STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! "God damn it! Fuck!" STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

Maybe it's because I'm a girl and I've been exposed more to bad moments at the hands of a salon, but it's usually because I OK'd them to cut a little more than I'd like or went for something different without really thinking about it -- a hairdresser is only partially to blame, and if it's that bad, you get it fixed. Or you just deal. Sure, I'd sigh a bit when I got home, but after a few washings, it's usually back to some form of normal, and will be back to all normal in a matter of time -- and my hair is more than a half an inch long, thus LONGER TO GROW OUT THAN A DUDE'S and I have indeed lived to tell the tale.

Maybe because he's a guy he has no idea how to deal with these new, confusing emotions that come with a bad hairdo. But good lord, he'd better look like Pepe effing Lepew for all his freaking out. Because I don't think I've ever heard ANY girl I know rail for as long and as loud as Chewboken did this evening about a haircut. I think he's STILL going off about it, if the rumbling coming from upstairs is any indication...

And thus concludes this chapter of Masterpiece Theatre, Hoboken style. Come back next week when we visit the next installment: The Awkward Growing-Out Phase.

Know Thyself. And Know Thy Team, Please

Wow, calls out people for being stupid enough to believe the whole "competitive imbalance is ruining baseball" spiel, and those who say it's worse for the sport than steroids. Because...seriously.

But then I'm pretty sure much of the meathead readership just goes by whatever columnist they read that day anyway, or whatever the All-Mighty and Knowing Bud Selig is telling them...and we know how wise certain sports columnists are and what a humble truth-teller Selig is.

Anyway, this just stirred up aggravation in me because I've recently come to realize what I hate most about certain "fans": those who believe anything that's fed to them without digging deeper and making up their own minds about something. And, oh yeah, I get it with people who have the audacity to label themselves as Yankee "fans" too. They usually open with something like "Did you see fill-in-the-blank paper's backpage today? OMG, fill-in-the-blank player/in-game play/front-office issue is so fill-in-the-blank (that opinion is usually supplied by whatever the backpage headline is insinuating)." Then, I will move beyond the hype of a backpage and bring up other sides to the story, and they get pissy because they actually don't know the facts and can't look cool or actually, you know, look like someone who actually follows their supposed favorite team. While it kind of feels good to expose these shams-for-fans, it sucks because they can go off spewing to other people who aren't up on the issues, and thus you get the whole "there's no competitive balance in baseball AT ALL. WAAAAAH!"

In short, I'd rather deal with someone with a radically different opinion than my own (like a Sux fan or someone who whole-heartedly enjoys interleague play or someone who likes the idea of a new Yankee Stadium), and someone who stands by their convictions and debate with them rather than someone who gets by with other people's thoughts because they are just too lazy to have their own.

Poop on them.

Believe Some of What You Hear

This morning, I'm standing at the bus stop, kinda tired and zoning out to my iPod, when I hear this commotion about a block away. Everyone at the stop kind of turned to look to see this teenage girl popping off about something to a boy her age on a scooter. I went back to my self imposed zone-out because kids shouting at each other is nothing worth staring at. But when they got closer to us, and were passing right behind me, I hear the girl say, incredulous, "Yeah, fucking shit that's my report card" and then I notice she has a balled up piece of paper in her hand, and though my music drowns out the rest of what she says, she pretty much keeps ranting to her silent friend as they pass us, all the way to the next block. And let me tell you, I've never seen commuters so amused that early in the morning.

For some weird reason it reminded me of the time I was waiting in the car while my dad paid a bill at the marina where he keeps his boat. In the distance, I hear this cross between panting and growling, and I figure it's the boatyard dog (a white German shepherd, who was the second or third incarnation of boatyard dogs named "Stosh") getting all vicious at something. Kinda freaked out, I look in the rearview mirror and see the dog not fighting with another animal or anything, but dragging a cinderblock, kicking at it and dragging it some more. My mouth was hanging open when my dad got back to the car and when I pointed the bizarre sight out, my dad was like "Yeah, he plays with cinderblocks, you didn't know?"

I guess the theme is don't judge something by what it sounds like from afar, because it might just end up being the most hilarious thing you've seen in a long time.

Would They Lie to You? Oh Hell Yes

Why are the online Idol reporters so shocked and scandalized that Katharine was in the Bottom 2 last night? Have they not watched this show before? Because after a night of awful performance after awful performance no one was guaranteed being safe...unless of course your name is Kellie, and no matter how poorly you do your fan base will blindly vote for you. I don't get why Bucky is skating by so much when he is just as mediocre as Kellie (though admittedly less annoying to me because he's not shoved down our throats as much as Pickler), but I will say this -- people who watch this show casually and don't care if it's a singing contest or not will vote for anything that smells like an underdog. They won't vote for anyone with a they see as privileged or whitebread, which is probably how Katharine comes off to these people, even if she has a great voice. The same thing with Lisa. She's a pretty 16-year-old with a nice voice, and that's all the producers showed us. She (and other performers) never go the "Lisa's so great, y'all! Vote for her!" treatment. When you're competing with "Aw shucks, I got me some tarantulas on my eyes!" and "You're a stah, Kellie...because of your personality", you're not going to go very far.

I will say this: I was happy Kat landed in the bottom 2 if only because it proved America maybe won't always listen to Simon. Katharine was terrible on Tuesday, and while others were just as bad, no one bought the whole lie that she was almost as good as Christina -- one of the most ridiculous things I'd heard off this show (even she looked confused)-- and America didn't fall for it. But then I'm sure Kellie was a top vote-getter on Tuesday night for also sucking, so what do I know about this country and its voting habits?

Also, the producer of the show saying that last night was going to be more shocking than the night the "three divas" ended up in the bottom 3 in season 3? You've GOT to be kidding me, right?

Manufactured hype is one thing a show as successful as this doesn't need. I think that's why it pisses me off so much.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

More Jerry Springer Than Oprah

You know, I think RanJo is a dickhead for asking for this money back, but his ex-girlfriend sounds like a real prize herself. The only one I feel sorry for in this is the daughter, who gets a jackass for a father and a mooch for a mom:

Johnson's daughter appeared uncomfortable answering questions about her absent, 42-year-old father while standing outside her family's home in Langley, Wash.

First of all, leave her the fuck alone, people. And why would her mother let her have this little press conference anyway? Oh, because she's as big an ass as the man who fathered her child:

"He needs to be an adult and take a big step. It's about Randy and Heather, not Randy and Laurel. How can he not [meet her]? She's his biological daughter. That's the connection, and she needs it."

Can you say famehore? A famewhore latching onto the media circus surrounding this and making this into the family reunion hour instead of just sticking to what the story is about -- her ex wanting the money back? I bet she's just waiting for Oprah to call to ask her to tell her story. And, oh, here's the proof that the mom may be just a little cracked:

But Roszell added that there's another motive driving Johnson to sue her: He's still mad at her for dumping him years ago.

No, it couldn't be because he's under the impression you haven't worked a day in god knows how long and are using that "childcare" money, plus the $5,000 a month to sit on your ass and do nothing. From yesterday's Daily News:

Roszell countered that she gave up income when she stopped working full time to spend more time with the teenager.

Because, gee, am I supposed to feel sorry for a single mother who can actually be home with her kid all day (but what is she doing during the school year??) when 1) she was supposed to be using that money for something other than funding time at home and 2) Most single parents don't have that luxury and still have to bust their asses to make ends meet? Randy may be an ass for not wanting to have contact with his kid, but this woman is just as ridiculous by setting a bad example for her child.

So, yeah, don't bother inviting me to the pity party. I'll be washing my hair that night.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

And That, My Friends, is What We Call Sucktastic

For the love of...I don't know...Mike, Pete, God, whomever, can Idol get rid of the awful 21st Century theme night? Because it sucked last year (except for A-Fed who busted out that night and was rewarded with a spot in the Bottom 2 -- bitter? Who, me?) and it friggin ensured that I'd get a good night's sleep tonight, it was THAT dull.

I mean, when I actually think Taylor was one of the better performers tonight, and I roll my eyes at Mandisa, you know something is off-kilter. I swear, they all sucked down a big 2-liter bottle, nay, a keg of lunacy tonight, based on their song choices. Lisa? Kelly Clarkson? You're kidding, right? And what in the name of all is holy was Ace doing? Becuase it sounded an awful lot like honking, among the yanking down of shirt collars to show off scars incurred during the bloody battle that is basketball. Mandisa lost me with the preachy gospel, which is way bizarre because I actually LOVE gospel (shut up). And Elliott being so freaking unimaginative that he has to go and do a song done by an Idol during LAST SEASON's 21st Century night? Unfuckingbelievable. Between that and Katharine warbling and getting told she was good by Simon, Bucky being damn near unintelligible, Kellie saying "sorry" to the judges when they critique her (and the audience eating right out of her "naive" paw by "awwww"ing), and Chris mundaning his way through a freaking Creed song, just, gah.

Paris saved the night for me, though utterly squicked me out by singing about not needing a bed because she can just go on and do it on the floor. She's 17 and looks 12 -- I don't need that visual, thanks. And while Taylor was nowhere NEAR as good as Ray LaMontagne's version, he at least had some oomph behind it, and didn't spaz out in characteristic fashion. But he'll bring that back next week and I'll want to punch him again.

Is it baseball season yet?

Monday, March 27, 2006

And Then There Was One


With just one week to go, The Chicken eagerly anticipates the ceremonial Baking of the Cupcakes that signals the start of the baseball season.

One week. OMG. ONE WEEK!

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Because it Always Comes Back to Delaware

You know those "bracketology" snobs who are always like "never pick a school you/your kid/your spouse/or anyone else you know went to because of sentimental reasons because low-seeded schools never make it to the Final Four"? Well, I hope they're happy with their Duke, UConn, Memphis, Villanova Final Four picks -- I know I got a chuckle out of it. Because if I had done a pool this year, I'd have picked George Mason to go at least somewhat far for the "sentimental" reason that they are in my alma mater's division, the CAA. And they beat fucking UConn today, so put that in your pipe and smoke it, "bracketology" bitches.

Also awesome? Kimmie Meissner, my "horse" to win a gold medal at the Olympics won the World Figure Skating Championships last night, which is sure to bring camera crews and media galore to the alma mater's ice rink, which rocks. I just hope Oksana Baiul isn't still training there, or else she'd run those mofos down...

Saturday, March 25, 2006

You Know What Sucks?

Having to bail early on a night out with friends because you are not feeling well and just want to go home to bed, only to realize that your loud-ass neighbor will probably come stomping home at his appointed Thursday-Saturday return time of 3-5 a.m., thereby waking you up and making going to bed at a decent hour a moot point. And this after a brutal night of sleep which included said stomping neighbor getting it on to music at 4 a.m., and a friend of another neighbor drunkenly buzzing your apartment three times at 3 a.m.. But at least on that one you let the visitor have it by going semi-Beaster on their ass, which was awesome. But then you'd rather have polite and courteous neighbors than the opportunity to lash out at random people on occasion (as good as it felt).

A good night's sleep. What is that like again?

Friday, March 24, 2006

Well, They Obviously Found the Wrong Place

Picture 1

Take it back, god damn it, take it back!

Picture 3

Snerk. Thanks, Jason! I mean, James Earl Jones.

Thursday, March 23, 2006


A great idea from Beth. It would be awesome if those inclined would also fill this out on their blogs, too, because blogging maketh the world go round and stuff.

1. How long does it take you to write a post?
It depends on how badly Lupicass/ESPN has pissed me off, or how well I want to capture a certain event and if I'm getting all anal about my wording. Other than that 10-15 minutes, I guess.

2. How often do you check your site-tracking stats?
Several times a day -- I'm interested to see how people find this thing and if anyone is displaying stalker tendencies. Some search terms are also hilarious.

3. Why did you start a blog?
My friend Chris (who no longer blogs) was all "I've got a blog, go read it!" And I was like "what the hell is this all about?" And the next day I started my own, thinking I'd probably do it for a week and then forget about it.

4. How long have you been blogging?
It'll be five years in August, bitchez.

5. How did you find my blog?
Because you found me first, Beth!

6. What do you think you'd be doing if you weren't blogging?
Um, actually writing angry letters to publications when they diss the Yankees. But let's not think about that because how would The Yankee Chicken have gotten so many fans if not for blogging?

7. How many bloggers have you met?
I've met two, and through them I've met some of their blogging friends. I also have friends who started blogs after I'd met them. And I've actually exchanged Christmas cards with several blog pals.

8. What do you enjoy most about blogging?
It's cathartic as all hell, it's a great way to keep track of your past, and you can find some really great writers out there who can ensure you will laugh at least once a day. Or comfort you when they have a similar opinion to your own and you know you're not crazy.

9. What do you hate most about blogging?
The Serial Commenter. You know the type -- they hit the Next Blog button, will skim through your posts, find out what pisses you off most and shit on it in know-it-all fashion. Then they never come back to see what your response was. Because they are, like, totally so much smarter than you and get off on that.

10. Do you ever get tired of me being so nosy?
Of course not, Beth! Questionairres like this are always way excellent.

Bringing *You're* Work Home With You

The best thing about being a copy editor? When you catch an error in Lost's subtitles, and beat yourself up for being such a dork, you can come in to work the next day and your boss will be like "Oh yeah, I caught the copy error" too.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Hate This

The really sad part about this story is that a man who claims to so deeply love the Red Sox is getting his name out there not because of the love of his team, but because of his Yankee hate. He may be making a crapload of money over this, but he's a lot poorer of a fan in my mind for it.

It didn't stop me from issuing a "fuck you" to a Jeep parked in Hoboken that had a Yankee Hater sticker on it the other day, however. Get over your goddamn loathing and just love your own team for fuck's sake.

The Wheat and the Get The Hell Off My Screen Already

Wow -- I'd have to say everyone was actually decent on Idol last night. Get me a cold compress, yo.

That said, some contestants' level of good is nowhere near that of other contestants, so the wheat is easily separated from the chaff.

Like, the wheat would include Mandisa (excellent song choice, and she kept the shouty singing down a bit), Paris (man, can you please stay like this for the rest of the competition? Great song and no annoying post-song singing), Chris (the rocker schtick is starting to bore me, though, but at least he performs it well), Katharine (She's gorgeous -- and not a stick -- and has a great voice. But I STILL can't connect with her though) and Elliott (who am I kidding. He's so going home tonight or soon because while his voice is great, there isn't enough of that "something" to connect with Middle America)

The chaff: Bucky (what did he sing? I can't remember), Taylor (would normally be in the wheat, but running around aimlessly on stage while singing the same line over and over again, and not as well as he normally does, does not appeal to me), Lisa (her voice -- fine. Her stage presence? Big old ZERO -- it didn't help that she looked like a reject from some 80s teen show like Kids Incorporated last night), Kevin (Zzzzzzzzzzzzz), Kellie (she is seriously the fifth best girl vocally, and mix in the guys in there and she's maybe 8th or 9th. But who am I kidding? America wants to either do her or take care of her sob story ass, so she's here for awhile) and Ace (one falsetto note does not a good performer make. BORING.).

Funny that Simon kept saying this is a "singing competition" last night. That seemed to escape him most of all the past few weeks...

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Wash 'N Go


With just two weeks to go, The Chicken digs out his way awesome Yankee wardrobe and prepares it for the season ahead.

The First "Jesus Christ, Calm Down, NY Post" of the Season

Oooooh! Ooooooh! I'm putting on my super-smart editor's hat and going to bet the Knicks must be sucking and it must be a non-game day in the NCAA Tournament. Because check out the histrionics of the Post's backpage today:


I mean, seriously? Pavano and Wright only held the Yanks back last season if I'm correct, so is their absence really something to be concerned about? And as for Moose getting clobbered, really? We're supposed to be all wringing our hands and shit because the Yanks left him in for a longer time than they would in a regular season game so he could get some throwing in? I don't think so. If he's giving up 10 runs in July, then we've got problems.

Also, let's talk about this Alfonso Soriano-won't-play-the-outfield crap for a second. First off, I'm not sure why the Nationals would even bother acquiring him when they know he's a second baseman. But come on, Sori, you are not god's gift to the infield, either. And second of all, you are not good enough to stain your name in this capacity. I know this pisses you off or whatever, but why not just shut up for a few months, let your stock be raised as someone who could play second base and the outfield (because the man's speed would seriously make him an outfield asset) and let it be known you are up for being traded anytime the Nationals like. And, oh yeah, for the amount of money you're making, I'd say just shut up and play.

What gets me though is that people will just see this as Alfonso being Alfonso and may cheer his spunky hard-headedness, yet will still call Alex Rodriguez an asshole. Yes, the Alex Rodriguez who was maybe the BEST GODDMAN SHORTSTOP in the game of baseball who, when traded to the Yankees, graciously accepted that he would have to learn a new position because of how revered Derek Jeter is -- and not ONCE have we heard him complain about this.

So shut up, NY Post, shut up, Alfonso and shut up, A-Rod haters.

Monday, March 20, 2006

Friday Night Freebie Jeebies

So I'm way psyched after checking out the giveaway schedule for the upcoming season. Our Friday night games come with lots of cool stuffage of the Yankee variety.

I mean, check this out:


Another Lava Pen!!! After the light died in my other one! How freaking lucky am I??


A Bernie figurine! For people over the age of 14!! And he can totally hang out with my Derek Jeter desktopper!


Bat fan? I am totally intrigued. But you know it's going to be like 56 degrees and raining that night, so it won't serve any purpose right then.

But look at Toronto trying to be all cool with their giveaways:


Because a trip to Aruba? Pshaw. It's totally no Lava Pen. Duh, Toronto.

Friday, March 17, 2006

It's So Nice to Have You Back Where You Belong

So, I hear the U.S. is out of the WBC. *Snickers*. But out of the four teams that remain (Japan, Korea, Dominican Republic and Cuba) three of those countries are already rabid about baseball. And as good as this is for fans of those countries, wasn't the whole point of this thing to spread the rabidity elsewhere? Are people in Italy caring more now than they did in the beginning of March? Whatever. I think they should just call a spade a spade and call this a money-making venture off people who already love the game of baseball (and are willing to drop money on some of the fugliest jerseys every stitched together) and not some kind of missionary work to get the good word out there. How many World Cups has the U.S. participated in in soccer....and how many people in this country would describe themselves as diehard soccer fans as a result? Yeah, I think it's going to be the same thing with baseball. So until I hear about significant fanship coming out of the Netherlands, I will roll my eyes every time Bud Selig calls this thing a "success." Having it be a big thing in countries where it's already a big thing -- that wasn't what this whole concept was about. Or maybe I just understood it wrong. Or I'm just bitter that Selig may go down as a comissioner who's "done so much" for the game of baseball, when the band-aids he's been slapping on the sport for the last decade or so don't hide the big ugly scars forming around other things. But that's not my point.

I'm just glad I get some of my favorite guys out of those hella ugly unis and back in Pinstripes. It's like having the family all back together again. Huzzah! And squeee!

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

In Which I Hug My Cubicle

I just have to say how nice it was being back at work today. Who actually looks forward to going back to work, you may ask? Well, when you miss out on a Chipotle lunch with Tonya and Erica, and two days of dishing American Idol/The Sopranos/Gilmore Girls with Elizabeth and Rana, and don't get to see Art slip out of his normally mellow demeanor to give a death glare at the door by our department when somebody knocks on it (because apparently "copy editor" is code for "doorman"), and don't get to sing things like Me and My Shadow with Jason because he is one of the only people under the age of 55 to appreciate that song as much as you (Me:Like you'll never get rid of your shadow... Jason: ...KB, you'll never get rid of me.), well, it kind of feels like you're missing a lot.

And apparently, I missed a lot of work that got backlogged on Monday and Tuesday and will come tumbling at us like an avalanche tomorrow on deadline day, which means lunch and dinner at the desk and getting home bleary eyed. And it's still better than sitting in that jury room and staring at your hands.

Eh, What the Hey? It's Just Tendinitis!

Not like you need a centerfielder to be able to, like, throw or anything.

Get your "non fielding" ass out of the tournament, Damoan, before you do further damage to yourself -- and, no, I don't mean styling damage to your hair.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Did You Battle Life Today?

No, seriously. Did you? Because according to Ben Covington Ace, Stevie Wonder is not only blind, but he has to "battle life" every day like all of us. Huh? Well, OK, maybe getting up in the morning and turning off the alarm is like a scene from Gladiator or Kill Bill or something, but who admits to that?

So how much do I love Idol for doing a Stevie Wonder night? I mean, I know they're never doing a Springsteen night (I can only remember one of the songs he's written ever making it on the show, and for all I know Patti Smith could own the rights to Because the Night) and never doing an all-out Sinatra night, and they've already done Billy Joel (and not really well, if I remember correctly) so they throw me a bone and use my other most favoritest artist. And it was so unbelievably touching to see so many of the contestants start crying when he entered the room. Like, it's nice to know people still appreciate good musicianship even though it might not be considered hip anymore.

The good:
Chris (needs to actually show off his voice and stop relying on the rockerness all the time, because he really can sing well, even when the band's not drowning him out), Paris (back on the lovetrain...for her perfomances. She was seriously obnoxious during her interview and that's never good), Katharine (who is styling this girl and why haven't they been fired?), and Mandisa (Oooh, a cute story that isn't cloying and "down-home"? How refreshing!).

Wasn't really feeling them, but wasn't really bad:
Taylor (he toned down the spasms and didn't bust out the harmonica like I thought he would. Praise the lord!), Elliott (I really wanted to like this performance, but his nerves kind of overwhelmed it or something), Melissa (Lately is one of my least favorite Stevie songs) and Lisa (she was really off a lot in this song, but yay, she FINALLY did a song I've heard of).

Ben Covington Ace (holy Christ, he started off on one of the worst notes ever hit on this show, and it was only the beginning), Kellie (as I've told both Erica and Steph, it wasn't Blame it on the Sun, but Blame it on The Suck), Bucky (mutters half the words and sounds like he's straining his voice on the rest of them but the judges fall all over themselves because it's finally a song they know, and not one they don't pretend to have to know) and Kevin (who I tolerated through a song about people having a sneaky, hot affair when he is so totally the king of all virgins... but my god did he dump the haterade on me when he started to get "fresh" with Simon, when Simon was totally in the right. Way to make his head puff out majorly with your vapid "boost his ego" comments, Randy and Paula. Hope you like the monster you've created, America.)



The Chicken and the crack just wanted to let you know that there are less than 21 days till Opening Day. Will you be ready?

At least I accomplished something today. The Tuesday Times makes me feel valid, unlike never getting called for a trial...

ETA: Well, that's two days of my life I'll never get back. Yes, my friends, as of 3 p.m. I am no longer a jury candidate and was released and now I don't have to deal with this crap again for at least another three years. I still find it insanely odd that I was like one of a only few people whose names the computer never "randomly" spat out for selection, while some people in my pool went down 2-3 times. I guess not having to serve on a trial is better than sitting around and doing nothing, but god damn, this was seriously the most bored I'd been in a LONG time.

Thank god it's over.

Live from JD Hell: I

Live from JD Hell: I HATE JURY DUTY. And cell phones. That is all.

Monday, March 13, 2006

They're About to Break the Ice, and I'm About to Break My TV

So this weekend, I got myself all psyched up to watch what I was expecting to be a god-awful movie: Cutting Edge 2: Yeah, We Don't Know Why We Made It Either Going for the Gold. And boy, it sure didn't disappoint, let me tell you! I mean, what do you think when you hear "Injured singles skater can't land lots of jumps anymore (huh?) so she decides to go into pairs skating, but before that happens, she has to meet this hawt X-Games-esque inline skater, and there's sparks, and then there's not and then she announces she's going to be a pairs skater on ESPN (because the network totally cares about mediocre figure skaters when it's not Olympic time) and hawt inline dude decides he's going to learn how to ice skate and be her partner and watch how great it can be!"

You may be wondering why I even bothered if I knew it was going to be this bad (and as if the fact that it didn't get a theatrical release, or better still, didn't even make it directly to video, wasn't enough of a clue), but I have a special place in my heart for the original Cutting Edge, and I wanted to see just how badly they were going to try and destroy the memory. ABC Family even went so far as to air the original before its evil spawn -- like, way to build up for a letdown, people. Not that the original is Oscar worthy or anything, but it is a great guilty pleasure movie and I like it as much now as I did when my friend Amy and I saw it in the theater in 1992 and we both left being in love with DB Sweeney. And shut up. It's just good fun (And Locke from Lost is in it!!). Its successor? Well, it was good fun for Carolyn, Rick and I to rip on. But that doesn't equate with the other, which I can watch over and over again by myself, no snark necessary.

Picture 1
The hate! The hate that begats love! The crazy declarations of love before an Olympic event! Oh my god can you stand it?!

The hook to the first Cutting Edge is that the female lead is the offspring of the main characters from the original. And did this movie throw us a bone and cast DB Sweeney as Doug and Moira Kelly as Kate? No. But then I'm sure they didn't even get a chance because both actors would be smart to have doused the script in gasoline and thrown a match on it after reading it. But oh yeah, not only did we get a woman who isn't even the real Kate, we get a woman who could be Kate's mother. OK, maybe not, but the woman playing Kate? IS TURNING 50 THIS YEAR and to give you an idea of how old the actress is, she starred on Hunter. I know! Moira Kelly was probably just trading her Barbies for a training bra when Fred Dryer was all the rage. So stop trying to pull one over on us, producers. And don't even get me started about what they've done to Doug Dorsey, because he went from object of teenage affection to a total pansy ass. But, oh, they reminded us of his his hockey playing past by having him trot out the jersey and the hockey stick at once point. Too bad "Doug" and "Kate" had nothing even resembling the chemistry shared by the original leads.

But the movie's not about them -- it's about their daughter, who's at least 21 (and yeah, not sure how that could happen considering her parents only finally got down and dirty with each other in 1992) and her new partner, the renegade rollerblader. And there just wasn't enough to bank on there to give this movie any real oomph. The original movie's "drama" came from the star-crossed skaters going from hating on each other to wanting to get on each other to wanting to do physically impossible throw-jumps (that would more or less kill the throwee if it weren't a movie) as a declaration of their devotion to one another. And it was AWESOME. This movie? Oooooh! They flirt with each other/they like each other/they misunderstand each other/they hate each other/they like each other/they hate each other... there was no stream of anything going on here, and somehwere in there we're supposed to believe they fall in love, which is hard because there's so much outside shit coming at them that they barely even have time to talk. Oh yeah, and introducing an ex-girlfriend who wants to mess things up for the destiny couple is just...lame.

So, I guess I didn't really like it. I kind of wish they'd left well enough alone. But I would be all for a special edition DVD of the original with audio commentary from the cast...

Shut Up-ology

If I never see or hear the word "bracketology" again, it will be too soon. And I like the NCAA tournament. But this word is just all sorts of obnoxious (I don't care if you've got betting in your office pool down to a "science". It's betting, pure and simple -- nothing mythic or MENSA worthy about it) to me for some reason, and every time I log onto and see it, I want to yak. Long live mid-April, when that god-awful term will be retired until next winter.

But I could just be extra cranky because I sat in a stuffy jury room all day today, and out of roughly 130-140 people, I was one of a handful to NOT get called to be considered for a jury (this happened the last time I served, and I'm beginning to get a complex). And some people were dismissed from cases only to come back to the jury room and be sent down on another possible trial. WHILE I SAT THERE NOT GETTING CALLED ONCE AND OH MY GOD IF I HAVE TO DO THE CROSSWORD PUZZLE OR READ OR PLAY SOLITAIRE AGAIN ALL DAY TOMORROW WHILE LISTENING TO PEOPLE CHAT WAY TOO LOUDLY ON THEIR CELLPHONES I MAY HURT SOMEONE. And then I'll need a jury myself or something, I guess.

So, yeah, shut up, and shut up jury duty.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Die, Tony (and Carmela. And A.J. And Christopher. And...), Die!

You know, I would've liked The Sopranos and Grey's Anatomy a whole hell of a lot better if I didn't have to hear Chewboken stomping between his room and the living room like twelve million times. I have no idea why a person would have to keep entering and leaving a room, so I'm just going to assume he has ants in his pants. And I'd like nothing better to drop a fumigating bomb of Raid into his shorts so he could sit the frig still for once. Anyway.

I've decided that I like The Sopranos because I detest every. single. character. This might sound odd, but really, think about it: There aren't a lot of episodes left before this show's finale. And in that time, I suspect many of these loathed personalities will meet their ends, and it will be all sorts of cathartic. I've never rooted for an entire cast of characters to be wiped out, but there you go.

Perhaps this is what I will tell the jury duty people tomorrow in an effort to get sprung free from its evil clutches...

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Somewhere There's a Someone...Pissing Off KB

So I was watching the movie Hitch last night, and it surprisingly kept me from rolling my eyes for a bit (Hollywood telling us normal types that they sympathize with the plight of the single man by casting beautiful people -- who would never have trouble scoring a number -- in roles where, aww, they have trouble finding that "special person" is beyond patronizing in my book) until we get to one scene where the lead female character is being told by her best friend about a bad time she had with a guy the night before. Lead character's response? "Oh, don't worry, you'll find someone." Cue my television being turned off.


Think about it: "You'll find someone" or "When will I meet someone?" To me it implies that any anyonymous person can fill this important role in your life, like you're content with a warm body to keep you from being single, or your "sympathetic" friend thinks this what you need. And that all your troubles will be solved when you do meet this someone or you can't be full happy (read: complete) until this soemone comes into your life. BLEH.

I don't know, maybe it's just me. I've taken this odd view of dating that makes the whole idea of "someone" seem like a really weird thing to me. I'm the type that would rather know a guy first, then start daydreaming about him -- not start fantasizing about an ideal "someone", which means, for some reason, means I have to look at dating like a deadline. OR ELSE. I mean, what is the OR ELSE? You get to be heatlhy and live your life and have fun and feel love from your friends and family...without a romantic attachment. What is so f'ing wrong with that that?

I know the someone I'm looking for right now is a Hollywood writer -- so I can smack the shit out of them for helping to perpetuate this someone idea.

Friday, March 10, 2006

Of Course, This Couldn't be a Season Ticket Friday

Picture 1

Yeah, it's been awhile since I walked around in a T-shirt with no jacket, so this is totally welcome. I guess it's back to the 40s by mid-week, but hell, I like me a bit of a preview of spring. Baseball weather. Eeeeeeee!!!!

Thursday, March 09, 2006

12 Weeks From Now....

Well, I have to say, if I had it my way, Will and Gedeon would totally be in the Top 12 over Kevin and Bucky, but since this season is already out to piss me off anyway, I guess I will just go with the flow and give you my predictions for the Top 12 placing. Keep in mind this isn't necessarily how I want it to go, but factoring in pimping time, fanbase size, previous seasons' karma and the producers' wants and needs, I think I might know how this all goes (and I really hope I'm wrong in some cases):

12) Bucky -- Rumor is Stevie Wonder is the theme next week, and you can't countrify Stevie Wonder.
11) Melissa -- Her fanbase pulled her through to the top 12, but it's a whole different ballgame when you've got guys and girls to vote for at the same time, especially when you're battling with "personalities" over actual singing ability.
10) Lisa -- She will be bitched out for not connecting with the audience, but nicely, making everyone thinks she's safe. Then they forget to vote for her because they are too busy voting for the "cute" ones will who were praised to high heaven for their "outstanding personalities."
9) Kevin -- Having outlasted a semi-favorite, the judges will finally stop treating him like some precious little thing that they can't bear to be honest with, will do some serious depimping (but kindly by Randy and Paula, not so much by Simon) and send him home just in time for the Prom.
8) Paris -- Her age will catch up to her and she'll have a shaky night, but her fanbase will be complacent because they think she is safe. What they don't count on is that same night, Kellie will have laryngitis, but do a striptease and thus outlast the early favorite.
7) Elliott -- The famous "shocker" elimination, i.e. the one with a whole bunch of praise, but inexplicably can't get enough votes (see: Tamyra and LaToya) sucks in Elliott this time.
6) Kellie -- Having outlasted three favorites (especially the guy Simon deemed to have one of the best male voices ever in the history of the show) by skating by several times on her cuteness and newfound stripping ability, the judges will finally let her have it and beg America to send her home. (Simon may have a boner while saying it, though)
5) Katharine -- Her fan base isn't big enough to help her beat out those remaining in the final four.
4) Taylor -- The-powers-that-be know they can't market him to the teenybopper set (i.e., those who actually buy these albums) and sink him with an impossible theme night for him, by going with a "Songs of Madonna" theme or, you know, actually bringing back "Disco Night" or something.
3) Mandisa -- The-powers-that-be know they can't market her to the teenyboppers, and sink her as well, but by having the judges praise her highly, saying "it's your competition to lose", making her fanbase complacent in voting.
2) Ben Covington Ace -- Will have the teenybopper vote, and that of a few older ladies, but a bigger voting populace in the 18-49 set will relate more to...
1) Chris -- 19E would have preferred a boyband refugee clone in Ben Covington Ace, but get their real-deal "rocker" (not a classic rocker like Bo -- there is a difference) and may actually surprise us and put together a good album for Mr. Daughtry. God willing.

What's in a Name? $$$$$$

Red Bull New York? You have GOT to be kidding me. I'm no soccer fan, but I get the scary feeling this is only the begining of corporate team naming.

In short, shut up, corporate America.

Ooooh! Ooooh! I Mean, Oh, Darn.

So can someone tell me if the U.S. gets knocked off early in this dumbass tournament, do the players get to go back to spring training? And go work on things they're supposed to be learning with the team they're going to be spending the next six months with instead of working on bragging rights? Not that I'm hoping for this or anything...

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Meet My New Best Friend


This thing? Is like the awesomest invention ever made for people like myself who need some noise other than the TV to fall asleep. I don't care that it cost me 99 bucks -- the fact that I slept like a rock last night because I had some real-deal white noise is worth every penny.

You see, my oscillating fan died this weekend, and that is a big problem when you need some kind of noise to drown out all the little noises living in a small city provides. And since unlike the rest of the free world, I can't fall asleep with a television or radio on (and that makes me jealous, as hearing people talk stimulates my brain too much or something because I can't even remember the last time I fell asleep while watching something and I've endured some really crap television/movies as a result), I had to go out at the end of winter and look for a new fan, particularly one that is loud and not "whisper quiet". But you see, this time of year is not fan season. Target, Linens N Things, Macy's, Staples and Kmart do not carry such things when there are still patches of snow on the ground. So in my disappointment last night, I wandered into Brookstone at the Manhattan Mall, and not only did they have fans, they had sound machines. And this handy-dandy one has a white noise function that rocks my world. The Chicken is quite fond of the "rejuvenate" and "summer night" function, even if the latter doesn't come with the crack of a bat, crowd noise or the strains of "Enter Sandman." Maybe their next model...

Going Through the Motions, Yet Again

You know, I was going to post something again about how out of her league Kellie is on Idol, but the powers that be proved that just fine by having her "sing" (screaming does not constitute that for me, sorry) after the powerhouse that is Mandisa. I honestly think they're setting her up for some kind of fall, or at the very least, to be the polarizing villain this season, a la Constantine. ESPECIALLY trashing Carrie at her expense -- way to get that insane Care Bear fanbase hating on you right quick, there, Simon. And way to insult the viewing public that voted for and made a winner of the girl you gave tongue baths to every time she performed, asshat.

And after last night I wouldn't be disappointed to have the top 12 be Mandisa and all the guys because I'm beginning to think the women cannot win me over anymore. There is something staged and phony about most of them, a vibe that I didn't get much from last year's group of gals. Lisa is still working the "muffin"(™Dexter) thing and not caring at all that most people at home have never heard her songs; Katharine has a nice voice but not as much power as I originally thought considering "Think" is a song that's meant to be belted the whole way through and she was only vocally "big" on the "freedom" parts. And Paris is just coming off as clueless and not at all like her original audition self when she picks a played-out, unchallenging song like freaking "Conga". These three are also setting off my phony radar either in their interviews or on the stage -- I'm trying to figure out if its their performance self that is fake or their real-life self.

That said, those three are the only ones I remember outside of Kellie assuming the position on her knees last night (funny, while most of the reviews I've read by women are like "what was that?", guy reviews today are pretty much positive toward The Pick. Wonder why....) and Mandisa just being one of the best vocal finalists this show has ever seen. So if Kinnick, Ayla or Melissa go home, whatever.

But I may just be in a bad mood because it's rumored Taylor might sing "Takin' it to the Streets" tonight. And that? SIGH.

Monday, March 06, 2006

Afternoon Delight


Tuning in to the game late, The Chicken's all, "who ARE these guys?" but he's happy just to have baseball back on his television.

And, like, seeing guys wear numbers like 90? It's quite jarring.

Whatever Gets You Through the Night

Why is this post coming in the wee hours? Is it because Chewboken has once again awakened me and I am plotting my revenge? Sadly, no. It's just Oscar Night at an entertainment magazine -- or as Art put it "It's like our Election Night." So, yeah, I had to forsake Dexter and Vicki's Oscar party for the first time EVER so I could go and do my copily duty. And since we rarely, if ever, are here this late, we're taking it in stride. I think the Mini Eggs are helping, as everyone has partook of them, and is wisely referring to them as "crack." Jason's been especially fond of them this week (though he said if it was really crack, he probably would've tried to kill me for the last four pieces I had left on Friday), our freelancer Barbara has admitted to being under the Cadbury spell, and when the going got tough (or slow, as it were) tonight, Art came over and was like "Can I try some of the crack?" I told him the first hit is always free, so he downed some and I expect to see him back when he needs to take the edge off.

I need a scale for measuring, damn it!

Earlier while waiting for pages, around 11 or so, we were pondering the McDonald's characters with great thought -- Like, what is Grimace exactly? And who was that pirate that hung out with them? Which leads to some Wikipedia searches, and 1) Grimace was originally an evil something or other, lusting after milkshakes and 2) Captain Crook was like the Hamburglar of Filet-O-Fish sandwiches, and I quote Unlike the Hamburglar, Captain Crook used ships and waterways as means to escape being captured. Though he is called a captain, it is unclear if he actually had a crew on his ship. Has an awesomer character description ever been written? I think not. Sadly, he was laid off, not because people thought it improbable that someone would actually be driven to theft for Filet-O-Fishes, but because McDonalds did some "streamlining" in the 80s and 90s.

The work started flowing in after this discovery, but perhaps the next time there's downtime during an awards show, we can write letters to protest McDonalds in this decision.

ETA: Quote of night (circa 3:15 a.m.):
Jason: (Calling to our art director as he's walking out the door) Later, Paul!
Paul: (Wearily) It is later.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

A Day Like No Other (Thank God)

So today was Hoboken's Faux St. Patrick's Day, or as I like to call it The Feast of the Drunken Yuppie (since this town is so big on feasts and all). Oh, yeah, you know how I love this day. But, determined to not let a few assholes who don't know how to handle their liquor ruin my Saturday, I ventured out into the fray to join the Hoboken Crew at our favorite watering hole. The following are a few moments that might have happened to me today, to which I've employed a rating system: From 1 green beer, which equals annoying to 4 green beers, which equals awesome.

Picture 1

-- People who would normally turn their noses up at your local hangout because it's not cool enough suddenly need any port in a drunken storm and pack the place to the rafters:

-- Obnoxious girl at the bar (complete wiith a microphone...that wasn't plugged into anything. Shyeah.) points to your friend's hand, which has a shamrock sticker on it, and without so much as asking, peels the sticker from your friend's hand and sticks it to her face. Then, without so much as a cursory glance to the people at your table, picks up the remaining sheet of shamrock stickers and procedes to take all of them. And then turn around to put the empty sheet back on your table, completely oblivious to the mouths hanging open of those who can't get over her audacity:

-- Your group's friend from the big bad city of New York (but who has been to this bar before, on nights when it's not mandated by the Beer Gods and Mayor McCheese to be out and about, therby absolving him of being a Feast bandwagoner) picks up the sticker sheet, peels off the borders and manages to sneakily stick it to the obnoxious girl's back:

-- Obnoxious girl is obviously not drunk enough to not realize how the sticker remains got on her back, turns around and slams the sticker remains on your table, slurs something mean, and then huffily turns back to the bar. She later moves down the bar to get away from the bad element at your table:

-- The Guinness Girl comes bearing free gifts three times in your time there: A Guinness "gold medal" on green beads, a light-up Guinness Shamrock on green beads, and a glow-in-the-dark stick-on badge:

-- Your friend ends up with a big stain on his shirt due to a faulty glow-in-the-dark badge, making him look like he's lactating:

-- It is decided that while some friends live in NoHo (northern Hoboken) and others in SoHo (the southern portion of the town), you live in MiHo (midtown), which is awesome on many levels:


-- Making smiley faces in Guinness foam: 3beer

-- Walking around later and seeing hoardes of people looking all lost and screaming into their cellphones "Wait! What the fuck? It's Adams, Jefferson and then Madison, right?":

-- Wandering dude with beer can in his hand comes up to you and instead of sexually harrassing you or puking on you, very politely asks you for directions, and you very nicely tell him:

-- Knowing this day isn't coming around again for 364 days:

Friday, March 03, 2006


I'm sorry, this is the weirdest f'ing sight:


And, uh, why do I have a bad feeling deep in my tummy that this guy isn't exactly, um, clean? And I don't mean in the lack-of-body-hair sort of way...

In Which I am Not A-Hyphen Defending

So, while I was delighted to see that Constantine (and even Vonzell -- because she beat out my darling A-Fed for the Top 3) made EW's list of Top-5 overrated Idol contestants, I'm kind of scratching my head that they picked Carrie as No. 1.

Now, while the over-blown pimping of Carrie on Simon's part last year was extremely irritating (as was the fact that she never got negative feedback when she was bad until the final four -- but then Simon blamed that on the band and not her -- especially since A-Fed actually outsang her on the same song...IRRITATING.), and while she did have trouble connecting with the music for the most part, I feel like this is a little over-the-top:

Hands down, a monumentally soulless disco-week rendition of ''MacArthur Park,'' complete with a final note that sounded like a subway train screeching to a sudden halt. The fact that Carrie later admitted she had no idea what she was singing about exemplified her problem throughout the competition: a frequent lack of emotional connection with the material she'd chosen to sing.

Like, what? Who does understand what MacArthur Park is about? It is so obviously the product of some acid-induced deep think, so really, it's not a song you're supposed to feel a connection to -- unless you've been pressed in love's hot, fevered iron like a striped pair of pants. Oh Nooooooooo! And also, if you will recall it was "70s Dance Music Night," not "Disco Night," like, DUH, EW writers. I mean, how else could we have saved rocker Bo from looking like a fish out of water seen Bo perform Vehicle? At least the "over-rated" young miss attempted disco.

Anyway, the girl has had an album in the Billboard Top 10 for the last few months and she's scoring pretty high on the country charts, her niche market. Obviously she couldn't have been too over-rated if she's enjoying this much success. I'd dare say Ruben (who I liked and voted for) was A LOT more overrated than she was if you go by album sales -- and if you want to bring personality into it, the man is one of the most boring interviews out there. So, really, EW, how long did you think about this? Maybe she should be on the list, but No.1? Huh?

Thursday, March 02, 2006


Picture 4

A boxscore! Albeit a losing one — but it's a boxscore!! Whee!

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Idol Picks, No. 3

Picture 3

And thank god the guys brought the smelling salts tonight, because even when they were being sucky (David blanding his way through Sinatra) there was something amusing about it ("Deliverence" Bucky -- hee, thanks, Steph -- swaying along to the crooning with his eyes closed in the balcony). Though, really, how long are we supposed to sit through Kevin, Sway and Mr. Radford? And what was up with Ace? Man, what a fall off from last week. While he was totally creepy last week, at least some talent oozed out with it. Tonight he was a total poser -- like, where were those notes going?

But loved Mr. Daughtry. And Elliott and Gedeon were also impressive. And I honestly think it's because they know themselves and what actually entertains people, something I'm not sure the rest of the guys and most of the girls aren't capable of.

Guesses for who's gone this week: Heather, Kinnick, Sway and David