Saturday, September 29, 2007

Poetic Pursuits of Playoff Poofery

I am NOT a hardcore sports fan. I do not cry when my team loses, I do not drink myself to sleep when they blow the big one, nor do I beat my wife and kids shortly afterwards. (Though I do sometimes fantasize about reenacting this play from time to time:)

I play fantasy sports and channel my venomous rage upon an unsuspecting player by resoundingly destroying my opponent, then impaling them with my championship trophy.Whew. I am still in step one of FSFA,(Fantasy Sports Fanatica Anonymous) but I'm getting there.

Maybe if I were more at peace with my inner demons yearning to compensate for a lack of athletic ability, I could channel my energies like this guy.

(It does make me wonder if I can pursue a career as the Poet Laureate of Porn. Ahhh...what literary joy it would bring.)


The Plight of Popera

There are three things that get me excited about the fall/winter season:

  1. It's cold and my sweaty, rotund, non-summer loving ass enjoys being able to hide the physical atrocities under a nice autumnal/blizzard friendly ensemble
  2. Cold winter makes starting the day with a nice cup of tea/coffee that much more enjoyable
  3. Football and basketball are in full swing and...uh...cough... I FUCKING LOVE THE NEW FALL OPERA SEASON (quickly looks left and right then gleefully pirouette's to Puccini's libretto "Tosca" from the 2002 spring season)

Okay, I admit loving opera today without sounding like some pretentious yuppie who flaunts his recent IPO killing is somewhat of an impossibility, but there's just something about it that draws me in...the warm sounds, the simplicity of emotion,...the hot women?

Anna Netrebko has been hailed as being a newfound savior for opera, bridging the gap between generations but appealing to younger audiences, i.e. slutting it up in a classy sophisticated soprano kind of way.

And yes, she's definitely a boom bottie, but as the above vid shows, does the Toni Braxton/Aguilera treatment really broaden her appeal? Will teenage girls who knew nothing about opera or classical music suddenly become drawn to it not because of their scraggly old music teacher, but cause of some classy/hot lady they see in a VH1 vid? (And how fucking ridiculous does that cheapass Toys-R-Us floatie underneath her look?)

Then again, Netrebko is a nice excuse for Average Joe closet opera fans like myself, being able to defend the discovery of my "Russian Album" by noting just how fucking hot she happens to be...

Quick note: Is it sad that watching the Mets depressingly lose yet another game Friday night made me think of Netrebko's 'mad scene' from the opening night of last fall's "I Puritani"? Watching the orange and blue die so slowly and painfully somehow brought back the image of Netrebko on the staircase writhing in agony...though seeing Matt Dillon looking so depressed last night made the game somewhat rewarding.


Friday, September 28, 2007

I'm a Mutt, Not a Mulatto

Once again consuming the opium of the masses for yet another night (someone should just install a catheter and a bedpan and end me now)I finally watched a show I actually liked without waiting for the DVD...and my disappointment has forced me to revert back to my pretentious strictly TV-on-DVD viewing habits.

Rashida Jones' "Karen" was swiftly discarded in the US Office season four premiere, an episode that was mediocre at best. Being one of the millions of UK Office diehards who were slow to warm up to the US Office (that pilot episode was an atrocity of painfully plagaristic proportions), I eventually warmed to the Steve Carell incarnation of Michael Scott's David Brent surprised by the smart pacing and fun Americanized subtlety it managed to maintain. Here's hoping last night's mediocrity doesn't signal the demise of the show's creativity. God knows American television is dying for a reason to sound smart again.

In honor of Ms. Jones' departure (apparently to a new Farrelly Brothers Fox sitcom that looks almost as bad as that "HeartBreak Kid" debacle) I rehashed a recent webisode of David Wain's hilarious "Wainy Days" with Wain attempting to pull a Mel Gibson-esque "What Women Want" move by crossdressing as a woman, only to magically transform into the cute-as-button Ms. Jones...Yum.


Thursday, September 27, 2007

Dirty Money Arrested in a Sexy Development

I am a pretentious asshole; I don't watch TV. I go out. I amble about the city aimlessly in the pursuit of everything and nothing. I don't have a DVR or Tivo and only watch things on DVD; ergo pretentious asshole. (If ESPN had a Criterion Collection, I would probably own it)

Yet as of late, I've been home bound (one part injury/two parts quarter-life crisis) and have succumbed to the clutches of the societal evil known as network television.

Which brings me to last night's premiere of ABC's "Dirty Sexy Money" an intentionally tasteless title affixed to a show hoping to garner the precious "fun, sexy, but surprisingly smart" tag that so many 'dramedies' hope for. And on the surface, it would almost appear as if they've accomplished said tag in it's pilot. Yet upon further inspection, one can't help but draw interesting comparisons to another network show that wasn't network friendly enough to cut it, Arrested Development. Both are fun, playful jabs at the financial uppercrust of socialite life, yet one succeeds in it's ingenunity while the other sags through missed opportunity.

Sizing up the characters and overall premises:
"Dirty Sexy Money": a famously opulent celebrity family's lawyer dies, forcing the deceased's son to unwillingly follow in his father's foot steps, trying to balance a normal family life with the ridiculous needs of these self absorbed nitwits

"Arrested Development": a famously opulent celebrity family's father is imprisoned for tax evasion, forcing the son to unwillingly follow in his father's footsteps, trying to balance a normal family life with the ridiculous needs of these self absorbed nitwits

Male Leads :
  • Peter Krause as Nick George: Who the fuck doesn't love Peter Krause? Sports Night, Six Feet Under, anything he's ever done on stage...whatever this guy touches turns into critical gold. He's our smart everyday man, just the way we like em.
  • Jason Bateman as Michael Bluth: Okay, so Teen Wolf II and having an older sister that made it plausible to masturbate to a Michael J. Fox sitcom aren't exactly the benchmarks of critical gold, but he has recently made a massive resurgence in film and TV as our critically revered smart everyday man, just the way we like em.

Quick character/plot comparisons :

  • Devious secretive patriarch : Donald Sutherland & Jeffrey Tambor...CHECK
  • Aloof matriarch who fucked her husband's brother/lawyer : Ditto
  • Slutty, stupid female socialite : Both Darling sisters & Portia De Rossi...uh huh
  • Outrageously childish sibling who fathered an illegitimate child and is failing horribly at their career: Dirty Sexy's Reverend Brian Darling & magician Gob Bluth...Whoa, similarities getting scary now
  • Irresponsible and sexually deviant sibling who is wasting potential of their career: DSM's Senator Patrick Darling IV (charmingly played over the top by Billy "I'm the one that's not crazy"Baldwin) and Arrested's Tobias Funke (charmingly played over the top by David "I'm the one that's not crazy about Jim Belushi" Cross)
  • Younger sibling/child who's trying to figure life out by doing extravagantly childish things: DSM's Jeremy and Juliet Darling & Arrested's Maeby Funke and George Michael Bluth
  • Main character onstantly quitting on family only to once again return to the chaos despite all kinds of logic saying not to: Uh huh,...yup...sounds like someone just pitched an hour long dramatic version of Arrested...

So yeah, unless "Dirty Sexy Money" decides to get all seriously smart on us, suddenly making the characters more compellingly 3D and Krause miraculously looks less detached than he did in the pilot, DSM, for all it's entertaining excess, feels more like an elongated, inconcise, and less clever version of "Arrested Development." Which isn't very dirty or sexy at all. (Though the idea of a Baldwin banging a tranny hooker is pretty money)


Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Now...A Moment of Loudness

If I hear another Marcel-Marceau-tribute-moment-of-silence-ironic-joke, please fucking stab in the ears...or just force me to watch Good Luck Chuck again...

As as mimes go, I'm pretty much indifferent. Every mime I've ever met wasn't very good (NYC seems to have a shortage on mimes; maybe all the disgruntled panhandlers and kids selling chocolate to support their basketball teams wiped them out)

The craft of mimicry seems to be a lost art, like intellectual discourse, foreplay, or smoking while pregnant on television.

Mimes have influenced some of the great comedic minds of our time, from the Marx brothers to the Three Stooges- and in recent times the beloved alternative comedy troupe Stella.

Here's another new episode of Stella/State/Ten director David Wain's charming web shorts "Wainy Days" on


Six? Sorry, I Only Talk To People Who Are Atleast Sevens...

Forbes Magazine recently compiled a list of the Top Pundits in America and with the surge of talking heads that have suffocated the airwaves in recent years, one would presume that they'd have a pretty interesting list. And I mean, it's Forbes Magazine, right? Smart, sophisticated financial mag that's got it's finger on the pulse of society today, yes? Uhhh...FUCK NO.

Here is their Top Ten most influential/important/powerful pundits in America :

  1. Roger Ebert - Okay, he's old, self absorbed and has a questionable sense of taste (he fucking wrote and helped make "Valley of the Dolls" for Christsakes) but alot of people know him and trust him, just cause of his thumbs thing, and the fact that his reviews don't have to be read (earns points for our illiterate demographic)
  2. Bill Maher- Well known, opinionated, interesting discussions...not bad.
  3. Bill O'Reilly- This man exists for lists like these...I'm actually surprised he's not atleast 2
  4. Al Franken- He's sorta good enough, sorta smart enough, and gosh darn some people like him...(Stewart? Colbert? Please?)
  5. Geraldo Rivera- This is where the WTF Line is officially crossed. Geraldo? Influential pundit? Really? His ratings are no where fucking close to O'Reilly or Maher, or even carries as much influence as fucking Ann Coulter or Rush Limbaugh (neither of which make the list)
  6. Rosie O'Donnell- The spiral into the WTF Zone continues. Okay, she's loud, opinionated and polarizing...something she only garnered within the past year being on the View. Prior to that she was a cutesy-Tom Cruise-loving-cuddly-morning-show-host/quiet closet lesbian/C-list actress (well maybe B-list, I mean she is friends with Madonna after all)
  7. Leonard Maltin- Another film critic...really? I actually used to like this guy when I was growing up (Ebert&Siskel/Maltin/Lyons were my childhood trifecta of film critics I liked watching, not because of their opinions, just 'cause they showed me the possibility that people could actually get paid to sit around and talk shit about movies; Granted, Maltin is the type who seems to like EVERY movie, especially ones with actors he gets to interview)
  8. Greta Van Susteren- According to Forbes, "famous for covering O.J. and getting a facelift..." Wow. Well, I guess if Geraldo got in...why the fuck not. If only Janeane Garofalo was more prominent...Sigh. (Fantasizing about the days of Mystery Men/Truth About Cats and Dogs)
  9. Lou Dobbs- After the previous 4, I can actually swallow this one. He's angry, belligerent, borderline/explicitly racist and he's on CNN. Shit, that should atleast have bumped him up higher than Maltin.
  10. Bill Walton- For some reason, this is the one that actually pisses me off the most. They only picked one sports pundit, and out of the thousands upon thousands of pundits (Patrick, Kornheiser, christ, I'd even be open to fucking Berman or the beloved George Michael of the Sports Machine) they fucking pick BILL WALTON? Not a sports pundit who discusses all sports, no, a former Dead-Head who only covers basketball. Christ, Walton's like everyone's annoying old grand-uncle, the one who keeps going on and on about his scars fighting in Nam, when everyone in the family knows he got discharged for accidentally shooting himself while masturbating in the trenches.

So that's the list; a list apparently compiled by a market research group on over 60 pundits. That's it?! Only 60? How does Maher and Franken make the list, but not Stewart/or Colbert? O'Reilly but no Olbermann? Geraldo but no Donahue or Maury?

Once again, yet another example of how market research groups still have no fucking clue as to what today's society is in tune with...and now for more on this, Bill Walton:


Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Failure Pile in a Sadness Bowl...



Lives at home.


All these facts should unequivocally mean that I must play video games. But I don't. Which concerns me. Should I be worried about being a stereotypically sad sack of post-grad shit, or more importantly, that I'm doing a shitty job being a stereotype?

Last night was a good test of my Asian mettle (or Pacific Islander mettle, like anyone gives a fuck about the difference) as I was in New York City late at night, merely blocks away from what one media-savvy insider referred to as "the biggest fucking thing since Star Wars."

I'm as big asucker for gluttonous, overblown media events as much as the next guy (I actually spent a Saturday night with a friend at not ONE, but TWO Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows book release parties in NYC; I have no coy hipster friendly defense for such a seemingly sad admission. Shit, I didn't even have a reservation for a book.) But instead of taking in the breaktaking view of Fifth Avenue completely shutdown and overtaken by a horde of military mongooses and a 34 year-old gentleman dressed up as the "Master Chief" I was twenty blocks away watching my pretentiously alternative free comedy show at the UCB punctuated by this gentleman :

Instead of taking part in the gleeful adventure of these young men :

Eitherway I begin the morning sort of bummed if my inability to connect with a billion-dollar technological industry not involving sex creates a void within me I can not really explain... Eh, fuck it.
This past weekend, your intrepid blogger decided to take part in a long awaited "night out with the boys" : a raucously routine event of rambunctiousness revelry.
And what did my childhood homies from the county of Queens want to do? Why none other than watch the hilarious genius of the one and only Dane-ish Cook!

I think the backlash against Mr. Cook has been overkill at best, ( I have to admit that I was one of the many who did initially find his stand up rather charming and endearing before it gradually degenerated into obnoxious dumbfuckery) and the premise seems almost interesting; a man is cursed with the ability to help win find the man of their dreams after being with him. Almost sort of interesting, in a kinda smarter-than-Wedding-Crashers-sort of way.
Shit, it's got tons of gratuitous nudity as well as Jessica Alba, purveyor of all things good and the reason why watching an entire film with the mute button pressed can still make for an entertaining evening...alone.
And yet, Dane Cook + Jessica Alba + tons of inexplicable nudity/sex + that Jimmy Fallon lookalike from 30 Rock = my ears and eyes competing to see which orifice could bleed more.


Monday, September 24, 2007

Merry Cohort # 1

I've been recruited as a merry cohort on this project to further inundate the online scene with yet another blog.

Let me assure you I will bring you the finest in my thoughts on celebrity gossip, new music, old music, movies, television, anything mister administrator posts and so much more.

Mr. Administrator continues to bring you the finest in all things the online world has to offer. I will bring you things like this:

That is two minutes and fifty two seconds of a german midget laughing at a camel for what seems to be no good reason. It's oddly fascinating and disturbing at the same time. It's from Werner Herzog's feature film, "Auch Zwerge Haben Klein Angefangen." You know you're intrigued. Let me save you the trip and give you the IMDB page for the flick right here.

I'm a vegetarian. Here's another reason you should become one:

You wouldn't want Joaquin to be sad. I know I wouldn't.

YouTube is a bottomless pit of useless videos and they all tie into each other.
Exhibit A:

From this video I got this video:

College kids have too much time on their hands.
...and now the kicker:

Seriously... YouTube, a fine time waster.

Originally I was actively trying to make my entries into this blog thunderdome not centered around YouTube videos but then I figured that no one wants to hear me wax poetic about the current status of miss Britney Spears (Is it wrong of me to want those kids to stay with her? Imagine the beautiful little wrecks we'll get to watch grow up.) Eh, my attempt at actively trying to do something failed and so I'll spin further down my rabbit hole.

Here is something I recently discovered.

I was watching 50 Cent's new video for his fantastic piece of work, "Ayo Technology" and one kid on the comment board mentioned something about 50 Cent not being a "gangsta" anymore. I immediately clicked on his username to see what he knew about being "gangsta." To my surprise and horror I found multiple videos of this mesmerizing dance. Blaring techno and kids moving around as if they had no means to stop are not my cup of tea but I still found myself drawn into the world that harbors it. Here's what Wikipedia described it as, "The Melbourne Shuffle is a style of dance, originating in the late 1980s in the Melbourne underground scene. The movements are typical jazz dance steps incorporated with a modern twist." If you go to the Wiki-Link you can learn the basic steps of the Melbourne Shuffle and the history of it.

I would much rather watch this video repeatedly:

That monkey and I are on the same page. I'd tackle some kid "shuffling" on a beach any day.


Saturday, September 22, 2007

Unaccomplished... and not loving it...

It's almost October and a certain blogger with a bachelors in journalism is finding that career prospects ain't exactly rosy for wannabe journalist/improvisationalist/comedians....

Maybe one should be more pro-active like this guy. (Gotta love CNN's professionalism in using the "q" word to open the piece)

I've never been one to be proud of one's namesake, but I do love getting cross referenced with America's favorite non-threatening uncle who's banned from family gatherings but still manages to pop in for the occasional threat/photo op/future MLB All-Star...

See Mr. (enter employer name)? Fantasy sports does help increase productivity. As for the other NSFW stuff,well...

Once again, another attempt at bringing the sexes together. Who would've thought Susan Lucci's trade value could quantitatively eclipse Peyton Manning's?

So this is what a comedy roast by writerly hipsters looks like...

(Note to la dame, notice the persona at the 6:00 and 7:00 minute marks. Go ahead,load that ammunition and fire away...)

Thoughts on the illustrious Nick Kroll:

  1. He's a pretty talented dude.
  2. Fabrice Fabrice offends me on so many levels, yet somehow manages to amuse my PC ass
  3. The "Cavemen" pilot is so fucking bad, it's...well, uh...still fucking bad
  4. Holy shit, is that the Sklar Brothers? They still get work? (I know it's not about Kroll, but eh, just watch the vid)

Is it unprofessional to tell someone a few months older than you that you look up to them? Cause right now, ain't nobody putting it down the way the Derrick guys are killin' it...improv, sketch, videos, Emmy Awards for Best Comedy Series (big ups to Donald =) At 23, I'd be fucking paranoid about peaking...but these guys seem to have a handle on it.

I was slow to love this show, but after spending an entire night watching Season One on a free Time Warner On-Demand preview (gotta love the use of "motherlover" as a fill-in) I've become smitten. It's scary, it's hilarious, it's mutha-lovin' good...(somehow Deb reminds me of an ex, just cuter and less violent)

One of these days I will eventually hate this song, but seeing as I've bobbed my head and air-drummed for the quadrillionth time, I can't help but blast it once again...

This was apparently one of the "must-go shows" of the summer, alongside the much bally-hooed (I knew I'd finally get to use that word in my lifetime) Manu Chao, and others I failed to attend. Oh well. Fuck my non-hipster-but-looks-sorta-kinda-like-a-hipster-ass...THAT'S WHY YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE (Air-drums dramatically)


Friday, September 21, 2007

The Meaning of bite size form...

Apparently God does exist... and he's kind of a grumpy gus...

I would hate this poor man's Judah Friedlander more if it wasn't for the fact that he's a comedy writer. (I am to comedy writers what minorities are to retired athletes suspected of double murder/robbery)

So in the tradition of Carlos Mencia, Dane Cook, and generations of other hack comedians, someone apparently stole a shitty joke from a shitty radio personality and that someone is...Stephen Colbert?

And looking at Mr. Uygur's claim it's easy to see...that he has almost no case at all...maybe he should try writing better jokes that people would want to steal. Or maybe he's trying to join his former partner Ben Mankiewicz (TCM host-turned-TMZ whore) on the money train.

Not like I'm biased towards the Colbert Report or anything. (Shout out to CR writers Laura Kraft, Peter Gwinn, Frank Lesser and head writer Tom Purcell =)

Just one more reason why loving Feist becomes increasingly harder for her longtime pretentious indie music fans...

Hush la dame...I knew it was over when "Gatekeeper" started reminding me to check my interest rates...


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