2004-11-09 - 9:34 a.m.
Queso Fundido
Saw two bits of cheese I'd like to share. First, the Philadelphia production of Mamma Mia! Yes, you're reading that right. I was a bit skeptical going into this, and left even more skeptical. It was like going to an all ABBA karaoke bar, and not being able to sing. But having to stand up and "dance" during the encore with 5,000 withered old ladies who were too elderly the FIRST TIME ABBA was popular to enjoy it then, so it makes no sense that they love it now.
It was almost like a satire of a musical. There wasn't enough of a knowing wink to let the audience in on the joke, so I don't think it was a joke at all. It was just half-baked, overwrought Swedish disco theater.
Which isn't to say that I didn't enjoy it. I laughed in all the "wrong" places and rocked out to "SOS" and all my other favorite tunes. The older characters were awesome, while the young ones you're supposed to care about are whiny and annoying to a fault. And this coming from a huge fan of Dawson's Creek.
My verdict? Go ahead and see Mamma Mia! if you like ABBA. Or bad theater. For it was a glorious combination of both.
The other cheese in question is CSI Miami. Excuse me, CSI _:_ Miami. David Caruso is at the nadir of a once proud career, and while CSI may have saved him from the welfare line, it has also pushed him over the edge, into William Shatner, pre-irony, territory. His ego is at an all time high and he delivers his lines in such a stilted, "dramatical" monotone that my heart delights in watching this dreadful excuse for a procedural show.
His reliance on his sunglasses as his trademark prop and his cultivation of the Horatio Cane "stance" of perpetual hands-on-hips crimefighting is utterly ridiculous. And I love every hammy second of it.
Last night during the special Horrible Dollar Store CGI Tidal Wave Of Destruction episode, his powers reached their peak. As some dude who killed people and stole stuff tried to get his loot off a boat or something, he heard the trumpets of impending incarceration and knew that his time was up. As he saw the police boats speeding towards him, he looked confused. And then, in the distance, he caught sight of his arch-nemesis, Horatio Cane. Gliding over the waves on his own special CSI tramp steamer of justice, Horatio stood with his shades perched on his proud nose, hands-on-hips, glaring at the crook with all the symphonic slow-mo glory CBS can muster at 10:50 on a Monday night. I rewound the scene again and again to watch Caine's hilarious entrance. Good times.
CSI: Miami is becoming more enjoyable to mock than ER. Change is in the wind, and it's got its hands on its hips, wearing Ray-Bans and protecting the dead citizenry of Miami from scoundrels.
2004-11-05 - 11:24 a.m.
The Flashy Girl From Flushing
I just solved a minor musical mystery. I was flipping channels last night when I came across the opening credits for The Nanny, Fran Drescher's mid-90s catastrophe of a sitcom, on Lifetime. It's probably the only show for which I will sit through the entire credits and then promptly change the channel. I am always completely mystified by the cartoon and the stupidly catchy song.
I realized last night that I had been singing along with the wrong lyrics all these years. (Yeah, I sing along with it. SHUT UP!)
So all these years I thought the line was "She's the lady in red when everybody else is narily Fred/dead"
It's actually "She's the lady in red when everybody else is wearing tan."
That blew my mind. But the real lyrics make more sense. I also learned that the part of the Three's Company theme song where I thought the singers were just scatting for our enjoyment, "Domma lommitydoo, Three's company, too!" is actually "Down at our rendez-vous, Three's company, too!" Wow.
My next discovery was of my foolish belief that the Growing Pains theme went "Baby you and me, we gotta be, the luckiest dreamers who ever been schemin." It's actually "Baby you and me, we gotta be, the luckiest dreamers who never quit dreamin’." Man, do I suck at this!
If you have such a mystery in your life, I recommend this website that has comprehensive lyrics, even for My Two Dads!
2004-11-05 - 1:03 p.m.
Funniest Post-Election Conversation Evah!
Just overheard two women here discussing the election. The thought-provoking conversation went something like this:
Woman #1: I just couldn't vote for Kerry. He's just grey all over, even his skin tone. And that Jay Leno chin? Yuck! I don't want to see that face on the news for four years.
Woman #2: Well I thought he was handsome. He's a little hangdog in the face, but he's got dreamy eyes.
W1: Dreamy eyes?!? What are you talking about? They're always watery and gross.
W2: Better watery and gross than beady and shifty like your guy.
W1: Hey, I think Bush is handsome! Okay, maybe his eyes are a little beady, but the overall package is better.
W2: I'm glad someone's happy with the election results.
2004-11-04 - 9:37 a.m.
It's Over
The election's over, and I've made my peace with it. I wasn't really a Kerry supporter, just someone who was hoping to send a wakeup call to my former party. Now I have to live with the aftermath of people calling Republicans and red state citizens stupid. There's nothing in this world that makes me angrier than East Coast condescension. And that's most of what I'm hearing. I've lived both places, and I can tell you that both sides are equally stupid. Especially in regards to their inability to see where the other is coming from or talk about the "other" without demonizing them.
Oh well. At least that's over. And the classy speeches from both guys are calling for people to work more together. I hope it actually happens.
2004-10-27 - 11:52 a.m.
Updateroni
Never fear, the raccoon was picked up yesterday. It only took them a month, but the crack team at the Plymouth/Whitemarsh/Whatevershire Township authority came through in the end. I'm strangely saddened on this occasion. It's sorta like my lil' buddy has been taken away, even if it is for greener pastures (er, the animal control inferno). Take care Tubby Raccoon! May you be reborn with better sprinting skills.
In other news, I'm really not going to make a big deal out of Simpsongate. It's something that didn't shock one bit, but I did love watching the mess unfold. That's the best performance I've ever seen out of her. I don't know why anyone, even little fangirls, would be so shocked or surprised.
The girl has been engineered by her sicko famewhore father from day one. Seeing this idiot with his mouthwatering and a creepy look in his eye on both Simpson sister shows has been horrible. And his spin was atrociously poor. Oh, excuse me, SPINS. Acid reflux? Unless she's also bulimic, she's way too young to have such tummy troubles. Unless, of course, an uncaring creepy famewhore parent had somehow thrust her into the spotlight too early with no natural talents to rely on.
Then again, perhaps reading all those 7th Heaven "scripts" is the true culprit. I know watching the show always makes me throw up a little in my mouth, so I can only imagine that participating in its creation would wreak even further havoc on the digestive tract. Maybe all the Camdens should get checked out for GERD.
2004-10-21 - 10:06 a.m.
Happy Birthday to Me
Today is my birthday, and I am feeling elderly. 30 is only a year away. To combat my rapid aging, I am wearing sexy boots and a little skirt and an expensive sweater I paid full retail price on today. It seems to be working.
My presents so far have included an overdue rush proposal and a litter box o'fun, courtesy of the cats. At least the Red Sox shut up the Yankees fans in the office for another year. They are really annoying.
In other updates, that poor elephantitis-stricken raccoon is still rotting away on Germantown Pike. Some sort of "good samaritan" did him the courtesy of kicking him back from the road a little, so his Pilates stance is a little altered. Poor little critter. I'm going to call someone. Again.
Oh well. I better get back to being old and grumpy. I think they're about to surprise me with a cake in the office. Yay! More empty calories! But in pastel frosting with my name spelled correctly! That's the stuff.
