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February 23, 2006 ( 10:16 PM )

Ain't No Cure For The Wintertime Blues

Wouldn’t the Winter Olympics be a lot more fun with the inclusion of winter activities that people actually do here in this country? Like sledding down steep hills. No one has a half-mile luge track in their backyard. How about snowball competitions-- distance throwing, accuracy (hitting moving cars from bridge overpasses), and all-out snowball fights. Now that I’d watch.

How come no figure skater has selected to skate to “The End” by The Doors? It’d be perfect for a long skate program—its got rage and passion, and for a 16 year-old bendy chick wearing an outrageously frilly outfit, a darn interesting ice capade.

You know instead of watching poorly judged figure skating on tape delay, you could rent the delightful movie romp The Cutting Edge—a cocky hockey player meets his match with a bitchy, but talented figure skater that eats men for lunch.

It’s a horribly guilty pleasure and completely predictable. The unlikely duo fall in love, compete at nationals and of course perform the “Triple Lindey” of ice-skating. Pure dreck. In the mood for a good cry? Try the guaranteed tearjerker classic Ice Castles.

Cell phones at concerts are just pathetic.

Can you just imagine people blathering on phones thirty years ago during a Zeppelin concert? Or while dancing on magic shrooms at a 70’s Dead show? Reporting to your step-mom from Monterey? I can’t but the general public now can, and certainly does.

Please for the sake of humanity put them away. I recently attended a Rascal Flatts concert (for a newspaper review) and thought perhaps the event was a Verzion telecommunications conference in disguise.

Let me get this straight. You’ve paid big money to see a concert on a school night, yet you still check your phone every couple minutes looking for a better time. Really, isn’t that what cell phones are for? Getting the call for the next good time.

Most of the audience held the phones aloft during the entire show, taking small, crappy, out-of-focus pictures, or to wave to someone from across the packed arena.

Believe it or not I’ve never owned or used a cell phone. I swear it’s true. I’ve been handed a phone a few times in a loud bar (listening briefly to a drunk friend at another loud bar), but I’ve never owned one. No I’m not Amish. I have a perfectly good phone at my house and I’ll get my messages when I get home.

Why, do you think you’re going to miss a call from the Rolling Stones? They want to party with you and the Lips Copter will pick you up at your house, but you missed the call because you were shopping for low-rise cords at Target (and buying the last season of Newlyweds on DVD).

Boy, Muslims have made a serious stink over a few political cartoons published several months ago by a Danish newspaper. Heaven forbid any of these folks ever picks up a copy of Hustler and sees the comics inside that stellar publication. Cripes that’ll tear it. I’m thinking most religions can take a poke or two now and then, and I hope Muslims will take deep breath and relax.

So that’s it-- Love Monkey is cancelled? After just three episodes (not even running consecutive weeks) it's off the air. If I read it right, nine episodes have been already been filmed so why not just show them anyway? What’s to lose by CBS at this point? Wow, what a giant waste of time, money, and promotion.

Tom Cavanaugh will likely find another Ed-like sitcom, but 17 year-old Teddy Gieger (who’s from Rochester, NY) will boldly embark on a music career. He’s got a real-life album coming out in a month, got a video already ranked on TRL, plus the all the John Mayer comparisons can't hurt. He'll be fine. Why the suits at CBS couldn't wait for the crossover tweener potential to hit is beyond me. Oh well.

Finally, Grey’s Anatomy—Go George!!


Song of the Day:

“High-Fiving MF” Local H 1996

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February 15, 2006 ( 11:09 PM )

A scared and understandably confused exchange student from New Zealand discovered the following handwritten letter on the steps of McKinley Hall:


Dear Lisa,

Boy time sure flies when you fall into an alcohol-induced coma for six weeks. What’d I miss? Just finished reading James Frey’s totally true words in A Million Easy Pieces. I can so totally relate--that’s the last time I ever mix together powerful vodkas, Jamaican rums, hallucinogenic tequila, straight bourbon, crippling German beer, and an awful-tasting bottle of wine, I think a 1787 Chateau d’ Yquem. Funny, but I actually predicted that the vice president would “accidentally” put a cap in someone’s ass before March. Hey is it possible that Love Monkey was canceled because Tom Cavanaugh, a zippy-talking middle-aged white guy wore too many goofy looking hats and do-rags?


Have you been blowing your nose in my socks?

Kristin


Song of the Day:

“The Wand” The Flaming Lips 2006

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