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January 30, 2004

oh, for the love of god.

so maybe you think jessica simpson is a hottie. that's cool, she's got the creds for that. maybe you think she's talented. fine, whatever, she can carry a tune. or maybe, just maybe, you think she's has some pop cultural significance going for her. could be true, so i won't fault you. i will, however, slap the living hell out of you if you ever, and i mean ever, bid close to ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS on an ella moss tube top that merely matches one worn by miss simpson on an ep of newlyweds. not the actual shirt worn by lady lachey, mind you, just a matching one. and for chrissakes, we're talking about ella moss (read: bloomingdale's for $60ish) and jessica simpson (read: turning tricks at pizza hut).

posted by jessica at 12:39 PM | Comments (2)

justice lies in the nielsens

in a not-hasty-enough move that is sure to leave us all reeling, sharon osbourne's talk show has been cancelled through its main distributor, the tribune group. shocking--who knew it had even aired past the first three episodes? once kelly's little stint at abc dries up (as it undoubtedly will), we'll have our osbourne's confined to where they belong: scooping up dog shit for mtv.

other surprising news: limp bizkit still exists! and fred durst still sucks! jordi meya, a reporter from rock sound magazine, asked durst why he had a knack for pissing people off. as if he were completely unaware of his own talent for being a prick, durst threw another hissy fit on his site:
"Jordi, since you don't have any regard for constructive or objective journalism, kiss my ass and try to be front and center at the concert next month."
the two will actually be meeting at the bike racks after school, so bring your friends.

major studio news: pixar ends talks with disney and is now on the market for a new distributor. this all comes down to final ownership of the products and, naturally, pixar wants to hold on to what's theirs. as such, they're now looking for a major studio to provide food and shelter. but who? finding nemo didn't get nominated for best picture, so miramax is completely uninterested.

can someone please explain to me why the new real world/road rules challenge is called the inferno?? i'm hoping it's because each eliminated player is burned to death. i'd love to see the miz shrieking like a little girl while flames lick his heels.

posted by jessica at 08:44 AM | Comments (4)

January 29, 2004

back in black--and a dash of pink, for color.

after recent conspicuous buzz, the blueprint was forced to lay low in a craggy nook, high amongst the hilltops of some random country with mountains. of course, this could only last so long, what with my constant need for premium bottled water and designer coffee.

aw, shucks. i thought the grammy awards would be a giant child porn party! alas, there will be no pervy reunion between r. kelly and jacko: the court has asked kelly to stay away from the king of minors during the ceremony, lest the two trade tips and tricks. like, say, how to hide an 11 year old boy under your bed while the cops raid your mansion AND save a fledgling pop career at the same time.

charlize theron ate her way to artistic acheivement, and the food fever is catching on. the winner of the director's prize at sundance filmed himself getting fat. okay, well, it's a little bit more detailed than that--he ate McD's three times a day for a month or so and filmed what happened. don't hold you're breath on the outcome, clearly he came to resemble a human-sized catheter of cholestrol. meanwhile, the pros weigh in on celeb weight fluctuations which, and i'm sure i'm not alone on this, drive me utterly insane.

he's back and as still quite filthy: badly drawn boy to drop his latest in april (uk, at least). hoorah. now bathe.

terminally-cool elmore leonard does an interview with the AP. upcoming release the big bounce is based off of one his novels which, interestingly enough, has was already made for the screen back in 1969.

posted by jessica at 03:29 PM | Comments (1)

ahem.

i'm having some quiet time right now. do come by later, when content will be restored.

posted by jessica at 10:24 AM | Comments (6)

January 28, 2004

money down the drain

last time i checked, i understood a tv pilot to be something with potential as a series. ABC just doesn't seem to comprehend this, or they would've cast ANYONE other than kelly osborne for their new pilot, "doing it." in quite possibly the worst casting move ever, kelly will play a love interest. i'm sorry, i don't care who she is, this is just a bad decision.

so many uses for camera phones: drunk pictures that never come out, sly pics of your potential hookup to send to disapproving friends, celeb stalking, taking pictures of random butts. mobile asses puts the latter on a level with hot or not.

oh, yeah, kerry won in new hampshire. howard dean didn't scream this time.

posted by jessica at 11:30 AM | Comments (2)

suck it, harvey

so miramax got the snub for the first time in 12 years; whatever. they could use some time off, as they must be exhausted after their merciless campaigning in the industry rags. anyhow, there's plenty of far more interesting angles to the oscars:
"But hereíŸÙs why 'Return of the King' is such a sure thing: money. 'Return of the King' is a product of New Line, which is owned by Time Warner. 'Mystic River' is a product of Warner Brothers, which is owned by Time Warner. In order for 'Mystic River' to have any chance of beating ퟙReturn of the King,ퟘ Warner Brothers will have to spend millions upon millions of dollars on an all-out, in-your-face, Miramax-style Oscar campaign. But is Time Warner really going to spend all that money just to beat itself? Is the company really going to take millions of dollars out of its own pocket? No way."
and that, we all know, is the reality of academy voting. so there you have it.

the guardian wonders if radiohead's critical acclaim, most recently with 5 NME nominations, has to do with their politics (the article also has some good links to other topics, like the barnstorming franz ferdinand).

meddling miz taylor, you have been out of the gossip columns for FAR too long! have no fear, the ny post reports that liz is trying to help her daughter out of her marriage--obviously because she's far overdue for a divorce and a few more walks down the aisle.

c'mon now, biggie died years ago. faith evans, you have got to learn to cope without mad amounts of salad and snow. busted in hotlanta, no less!

posted by jessica at 10:14 AM | Comments (0)

January 27, 2004

democracy at its finest!

al franken kicks some heckler's ass after dean is drowned out by the guy. wait--someone can yell louder than dean? get these boys in a yodeling contest, stat! and perhaps mr. franken is taking all of this primary commotion a bit too seriously. "'I got down low and took his legs out,' said Franken afterwards."

posted by jessica at 12:14 PM | Comments (2)

but you're not funny, babs

beak-nosed, airspace-claiming barbara striesand is looking at the script for "meet the fockers," the sequel to "meet the parents." this could be either hilarious or a disastrous mess, you decide.

so the oscar nominations are out, big whoop. lord of the rings leads the pack with 11 nominations, which roughly equals 1 nomination per 19 minutes. i still haven't seen this behemoth film, and i'll proudly hold on to those 3.5 hours as mine. let's take a moment and keep our hopes up for hobbit-turned-director peter jackson, who, if he doesn't win some significant categories, will turn into gollum and skulk about los angeles with a needle in his arm.

posted by jessica at 12:03 PM | Comments (5)

how dare that pesky political process steal hollywood's thunder!

we simply don't have enough random celebs trying to stick their fingers in the trendy political pot. thank goodness for drew barrymore, who is unsuccessfully producing a documentary about the presidential campaign. i can see it now: barrymore frantically waves a microphone in john edwards' face. edwards refuses to entertain her questions and climbs upon his bmx. as edwards sails through the night sky on his flying bike, drew screams that, should he grant her an interview, she'll get him tickets to see the strokes--but edwards is gone, a mere silhouette against a full moon.

i saw part of mtv's newest "follow around a famous couple" series, til death do us part, last night. the show, as of right now, follows carmen electra and dave navarro as they go through their wedding plans. i realized i was a giant snob when i laughed at navarro, who, while giving his parents a tour of his house, said, "And this right here, this is the piece of resistance." oh, poor dave.

posted by jessica at 10:12 AM | Comments (5)

January 26, 2004

and to think i was illegally downloading my own version

i need to do something about my content. i can't stop writing about the stupid (i mean best) OC: official soundtrack to drop 3/30. and you know it's gonna feature the track to which ryan busts out the slow-mo action on new year's eve (via amy's robot).

posted by jessica at 10:53 PM | Comments (0)

in brief, the whitey-tighty kind

ah, regis, where art thou in my primetime schedule? oh, you're right there, headlining the new-and-improved Super Millionaire. thank god, too, because overexposing your game show can always be fixed by increasing the stakes ten-fold. wait--i mean, no. no it can't.

worse than retirement? grab your kleenex, as bawa walters is expected to leave 20/20 today so she can focus on her fuzzy-camera interviews and the view.

nme, which i normally love, has declared hysteria over its own awards show. while the show may indeed be that cat's pajamas, giving yourself your own buzz on your own website stretches the boundaries of objectivity just a tad.

posted by jessica at 01:03 PM | Comments (0)

i didn't realize it was still in print!

poor, pathetic newsweek. aside from being resigned to a fate that, at best, involves repeating whatever was on dateline the night before, now not even aspiring journos are looking at their pretty pictures and big words. when newsweek asked select college journalists to cover young voters in the forthcoming election, they didn't really seem to, well, care. one particularly eloquent young gal remarked, "I was like, '212 area code? huh?'" i can't wait to see what sort of printshop-enhanced article she turns in for the magazine.

i didn't watch the golden globes last night, mostly because i didn't care. i did, however, read some excerpts of bill murray's acceptance speech (best actor in a comedy for lost in translation), thus reaffirming that i love him as much as i did when he was singing about star wars in a bar, bedecked in an ill-fitting jumpsuit:
"The show's highlight may have been the acceptance speech by the notoriously sardonic Murray, who thanked Coppola before dryly mocking Hollywood award speeches, declaring he had fired all his agents and representatives and had no one else to thank.
He also poked fun at the idea that comedy performers are overshadowed by dramatic stars. 'Too often we forget our brothers on the other side of the aisle íŸÓ the dramatic actors,' he said. 'I'd just like to say: Where would our war, our miseries and our psychological dramas come from?'"

thankfully, better awards ceremonies are to come: the razzies have been announced and gigli just might make a sweep. kutchie's piece de resistance, that butterfly thingie, was not released in time to be considered for a nod, but have no worries: kutch has been nominated THREE TIMES for worst actor (can you see my shit-eating grin? can you?). bonus points will be awarded, in a nonexistant form, of course, to readers who can guess which three movies helped ashton make it so far, so fast.

this isn't the Kutchie Times, so i best switch the topic: the von bondies have some solid coverage, even if it is as a result of the jack white fracas, in today's guardian. of course, they yap about said incident, but there's a good chunk about the detroit music scene (in related news, we've been listening to the sympathetic sounds of detroit pretty much nonstop since the holidays and it's a great primer for anyone unversed in the wiley ways of the motor city).

posted by jessica at 09:59 AM | Comments (4)

January 23, 2004

tragedy strikes; minimal sarcasm needed.

legendary photographer helmut newton has died in a car crash. reports say he lost control of his cadillac while leaving the famous/infamous Chateau Marmont. JG Ballard wrote of him:

"Newton has always been very much more than a fashion photographer. I think of him as a figurative artist who uses the medium of photography - and his access to gorgeous women, expensive gowns, and exotic locations - to create a unique imaginative world."

it's odd and creepy that newton died outside of the chateau, which is not only where john belushi met the same fate, but also where industry hipsters go to enjoy drinks, vapid conversation, and celebrity stalking. not tonight, gang--you'll have to slum it at the standard instead. will the horrors never end?

posted by jessica at 05:50 PM | Comments (1)

now there's an idea!

how 'bout this: even though we've got billions of trillions of dollars to regain and lots of national and international problems to address, we really should be exploring the cosmos like W suggested. even if we lose and/or break the effing equipment. you'll fix it yourself, won't you, george? it's not much different from a toaster, i'm sure.

posted by jessica at 12:58 PM | Comments (0)

i really should be working...

BUT, anyone who knows me knows i love my video games. give me an arcade on a boardwalk and you won't see me for hours (galaga! centipede! street fighter 2!). in particular, i love my old-school nintendo, the 8-bit one from the 80s. we have a playstation too, but that just isn't the same. i might, however, have to get a gamecube, seeing as nintendo is coming back at us with a multi-player pacman jawn! hot!

i wouldn't have known this if it weren't for o'doyle, but espn's page 2 (which we all just heart to death) has spawned itself into the newly minted page 3 (the annoying cartoon has got to go, but you can close it really quick). it's kind of like they took all of the blatantly not-sports-related stuff from page 2 and shifted it to a new page--innovative, i know.

for all my DC people, gawker's political cousin, wonkette, has launched. good beltway gossip and whatnot. nick denton's bloggy empire continues.

also, does anyone know where i can get a handy rundown chart on the dem. candidates? like, who's pushing for what. i'm so confused these days...

posted by jessica at 11:03 AM | Comments (1)

the end is so very near.

in a perfect world, there would be no ashton kutcher. but we live in a world filled with hate, poverty, violence and crime--and, as such, the celebrity cesspool has one kutchie swimming in it. with a little luck and a lot of bad acting, however, ashton may drown soon:
"The flick was 'hooted off the screen,' reports the Boston Globe, and 'Variety' griped that the movie 'grows more ridiculous by the quarter-hour.' Kutcher, who reportedly was dropped from another role because director Cameron Crowe found his acting skills lacking, hasníŸÙt been getting much better reviews for his off-screen performance at the festival: he was greeted with howls of laughter for wearing a white cowboy hat, a neckerchief, and an ivory shearling jacket."
if variety, which typically has the most gentle, postive reviews out there, calls you out for the craptastic bottom-feeder that you are, you know things are going downhill. also indicative of hard times is the bad teen mustache featured above, a speciman known to frequent the upper lips of desperate high school boys eager to prove their manhood. you're in good company, ashton.

last night's primetime interview with witch docter dean featured his wife, judith. we haven't seen a lot of her, and now you know why: judith is sooo not camera-ready, it's kinda pathetic. looks matter only half as much as brains, but this is the visual age and when you're introducing yourself to the public, you need to look like a potential first lady. also, judith needs to articulate a bit better: statements such as, "I'm not a thing person," while possibly accurate, is not a great nor informative way to introduce yourself to the public. she's obviously intelligent, she just needs to gussie herself up a bit--i'm thinking, project!

posted by jessica at 10:04 AM | Comments (4)

January 22, 2004

done, done, and done.

after months of irritating US Weekly covers, ben and jen are officially single.

posted by jessica at 02:09 PM | Comments (2)

metro, homo, hetero, blah.

hey, remember when your friends were "kinda gay but not really gay?" i'm almost nostalgic for the daily struggles of understanding those men. then "metrosexual" got hot, and, thank god, we could pigeonhole all of those guys in five syllables. but oh, how things change so quickly: now shows like queer eye get associated with metrosexuality (is that a word?), and those metrosexual males are just back to being kinda 'mo, while the rest are eating 15 slices of pizza and refusing to shower in an effort to assert their alpha-maleness (spanks to ian for linkage).

speaking of metrosexual usage, you know it's gotten out of control when someone on the bachelorette uses the word to describe themselves. that's right, rick (who, despite the cheesy pic, is pretty good looking) confesses to meredith during their one-on-one date that he's metrosexual. he still makes it to the next round, oddly enough. meanwhile, meredith managed to cut the cute guys and keep the weird, quiet ones. interesante, senorita, muy interesante. at least she got rid of the freak who actually told her he loved pregnant woman. whoa, buddy, slow down.

somehow, page 6 covers criticism of celebrity skin conditions without touching on cameron diaz.

let the old man have his drugs! art garfunkel is busted for the ganj; paul simon is spotted snickering.

oliver is bad news bears, yo. last night's ep of the OC had me reeling, natch, at how tight this show is getting. at exactly 39 minutes into our weekly foray amongst newport's finest, things got downright evil: when ryan tries to slip the note from oliver back into coop's locker, oliver is standing there being all creepy! shoot, he was so ill that even luke offered to drop "the great gatsby" on his poorly-coiffed ass. why won't anyone listen to chino? why does a kid have to snarl and throw punches just to get heard around harbor--and, my god, that closing fight scene had us jumping up from the couches and screaming. so best. there's no way i'm waiting three weeks to see oliver fire a gun; foxy strings will have to be pulled.

posted by jessica at 10:37 AM | Comments (3)

January 21, 2004

below average blogging

i've become quite slothlike in my coverage of Average Joe 2, mainly because i've only watched a cumulative total of 20 minutes during the last 3 eps. no worries, megan lynn has been watching this shizz like the hawk she is:

If you aren't watching Average Joe 2, then dammit, you should be. From Camp Jim to One Tree Hill (which returned to the WB last night! Hot! Show me the money, Jordan Levin!) I believe I can safely say that I've never steered the blueprint's readers astray when it comes to truly fabulous bad TV. You may think you got your fill of nerd self-loathing and hottie self-righteousness on Average Joe 1, but trust me, you've got room for more.

Let's start by saying that these Joes are well, a little more average than the last ones. One would think that this would raise the pity factor to such levels that it would stop entertainment dead in its tracks, but AJ2 makes up for it by making them also more insane. Take, for example, this season's Dennis (read: most nerdy nerd), David Daskal. Forget the fact that this guy looks like Weird Al's illegitmate son, that his all-occasions wardrobe consists of oversized gym shorts and t-shirts, that he doesn't know how to swim or ride a bike, or that he chooses to spend his alone time with Larissa singing her a song of his own creation. He's so incredibly and inexplicably chipper, so completely random and unfunny in his jokes, and so intentionally in your face about his nerdhood that frankly, as he lacks even an ounce of Dennis's sweetness, he's just kind of annoying. Other notable Joe's include Homeland Security worker Brian W., who is sporting the absolute best accent on television today, and artist without sweat glands Tony, who uses his creative mind to shave interesting marks into his face. Awesome.

This is all well and good, Megan (you're probably thinking), but what about last season's amazing twist, wherein 3 new (hot?) guys came into the game and really rattled the Joe's collective confidence? Well, what if I told you that EIGHT new guys landed on the show this week? And by landed I mean took an incredibly lengthy boat trip. A boat trip so lengthy that NBC had to count down to their arrival in nautical miles (hundreds!) whilst these shirtless dudes greased themselves up, laid or stood imposingly around, and whipped out sound bite after sound bite about how hot they feel about their hotting hotness! What then!?!

These guys' arrival at the house not only set the superficial Larissa all atwitter, it put the nerd to meathead count at an even 8 to 8. It looks as if this show is about to turn into what it should have always been: not a dating show about a "frog" getting a princess, but a reality revenge of the nerds. An opportunity for a once and for all, knock-down battle between the jocks and the a/v club. So let's hear it for the boys, as they pull out every playground stunt in the middle-school repetoire. And oh yeah, some girl validates them by selecting one to be a part of an eventual and anti-climactic post-show break up.

posted by jessica at 03:26 PM | Comments (0)

charles in charge nostalgia

if you're reading this and practically anything else in the blogosphere, you already know that pop culture is the hotness right now. msnbc yaps about Vh1 making hot money off low-cost shows like "i love the 80s." due to their popularity, it won't be long until bigger studios catch on and we'll have michael ian black on 6 channels at any given time. one vh1 producer goes so far as to liken the shows to "tv crack." um, 'scuse me? crack is whack, yo, and i don't think it's great PR to describe your product as such. unless, of course, you're aiming for howard dean after iowa.

outreach, a california company that manufactures church marketing materials, is using crazy mel's the passion as a marketing opportunity. i'm not a religious person by any means, but this seems rather shameless in the pursuit of profit:
"I believe that Mel Gibson's masterful creation has God's anointing on it. It's almost as if someone travelled through time with a video camera, captured the original crucifixion and returned to share it with our world today...Ask God: How will we as a church encourage people to experience this film? How can we build a bridge from the movie theatre to our church?"

in case you didn't already hate her, martha stewart also wears $7000 worth of accessories to court. any fashionable juror will recognize MS for the hermes whore she is and banish her rightly.

because you didn't get your fill of neve campbell being naughty in wild things, she'll be reprising her bedroom role sans male in "when will i be loved," a new movie i've never heard of with a director i've never heard of.

omg, make the jack white coverage stop.

posted by jessica at 10:04 AM | Comments (5)

January 20, 2004

huns are so hot right now

i've always harbored a bit of a crush on the history channel, but usually my viewings are confined to an empty, darkened room where i can quietly revel in my nerdiness...but no more! the foxy household (or apartmenthold, if you will) has stumbled upon BARBARIAN WEEK! yes, raping and pillaging will be on our menu almost nightly! seriously, this stuff is totally cool. do indulge your inner viking, goth, mongol, whatever.

jumping from topic to topic in a breathless, poorly-written manner: friday night was the ima robot concert and, from what i can recall, it was a good time. we got there too late to catch DDM or seksu roba (who the hell goes on at 7:30 in LA anyhow? no one can get anywhere during rush hour!), but randy the PA said DDM was more performance art than band. self was coming on just as we got in. i was the only one with my posse that found them to be alright--the latter half of their set was much better. ima robot, of course, was glam-flam (my new term, figure it out) and alex wore a gold lame dress. then a fight broke out ("ima robot!" "no, ima robot!" punch!). after the show, we went to some other bars. when i woke up, we were in the car, crossing the tijuana border. of course, i was airlifted outta there.

posted by jessica at 12:45 PM | Comments (3)

tuesday is the new monday

paris and nicole flash their shizz all over sundance. of course, i know that sundance is as much a celeb par-tay as it is a film festival (if not more so), but, last time i checked (1) p-hilt was pretending to lay low and, (2) despite what her appearance at sundance may suggest, the sundance committee doesn't accept home movies, no matter how artfully compelling they may be.

unless you have had your head shoved somewhere it shouldn't be, you know that kerry won the iowa caucus. what you might not have known, however, is that howard dean is becoming increasingly insane. how else could one explain such rabid exuberance? newsflash, buddy: you were winning, now you've dropped back to 3rd. calm down.

from the way-too-weird-to-make-a-wisecrack department: johnny rotten, punk legend of sorts, has agreed to be on the fabulous career-breaking show, "i'm a celebrity...get me out of here!"

the guardian tries to have an interview with crazy jack white. nothing new there.

bust out your heavy black eyeliner and aquanet, because the cure are to headline night 2 of coachella.

finally, shamelessly, the black table has a new blacklist and i swear, it's just the greatest ever--but i'm totally biased.

posted by jessica at 10:24 AM | Comments (7)

strange homecoming

usually, when you take a last-minute getaway, you return to a stuffed mailbox and a trillion voicemails. i came home to a giant homer simpson.

gothdar bought an animatronic life-size homer simpson! when i came home last night and the apartment was pitch black, the hulking shadow of this little surprise scared the bejesus out of me. giant homer dances and says, "mmm, barbeque," along with other witticisms. his motion sensor is always going off so he's always talking or dancing to his preprogrammed techno music. it's really kind of weird.

posted by jessica at 09:15 AM | Comments (1)

January 16, 2004

never was on time, yes i once was blind

and, apparently, i still am blind, rendered completely incapable of accurately reading my alarm clock for 5 days straight. unstoppably tardy every day this week, yo. i've really outdone myself.

day gazillion of The Persecution of Jacko: mj shows up to court 20 minutes late, wears glittery shoes, and then has the audacity to plead not guilty. i have my suspicions about those little boys, mr. jackson, but there is no doubt in my mind that you have been studying the faux pas of one judy garland.

because there's no such thing as overexposing a successful franchise, cbs and bruckheimer are expected to announce a THIRD effing CSI skein, this time in NYC. careful, les, you might be stretching things a wee bit. i think it's almost arrogant (but really just stupid) to believe that enough viewers are that obsessed as to devote 3 nights of primetime viewing to one series.

stick to couture and steer clear of similes: stefano gabbana, partner of dolce, described david and victoria "posh spice" beckham as, "as gentle as a pigeon...two gentle pigeons." (insert your own joke here.)

the guardian has an interesting, if not pointless, rundown of celebrity art collections and what they might say, if anything, about their owners.

i'm so excited that it's friday that i can't stop squirming in my seat! tonight is the Ima Robot show at the Fonda theatre with self, seksu roba and dance disaster movement. review to follow, of course. tomorrow is our mexican adventure to ensenada, baja, and, so long as my car doesn't get ganked (i bought mexican auto insurance but it seems like an oxymoron), it should be a nice, long weekend. which means today is gonna drag like toilet paper stuck on a shoe...

posted by jessica at 10:22 AM | Comments (1)

January 15, 2004

i'm one half jewish, one half ashamed

michael jackson's two elder, veiled puppet-children are jews (no word yet on which religion the church of blanket associates itself with). ironically enough, they are being protected at the rented compound by nation of islam henchman. does farrakhan know about this? is this a trick? while the blueprint ponders the implications of this situation, make sure you check out the farrakhan name generator because, well, pirate quizzes can only get you so far. for instance, Michael Jackson comes up as Kwennoir. you learn something new every day, yo.

i'm not sure along came polly deserves lengthy commentary, but david edelstein is going to to give it up nonetheless. welcome to 2004, when even the screwball comedy has potential for in-depth criticism.

can a blog have an existential crisis? or does the blog suffer as a poor disguise for the psyche of its editor? either way, i'm calling out polish mike for misquoting me, even if it is all in good fun. ah, how i love the cozy, self-referential blogosphere. er, that's what i was told, anyhow...

posted by jessica at 03:26 PM | Comments (3)

celebrity endorsement of the hour

although this one isn't as pithy: michael moore endorses wesley clark.

posted by jessica at 02:52 PM | Comments (0)

actor no write good

sean penn's impish shenanigans in iraq have, lo and behold, resulted in a two part story for the san francisco chronicle. penn does have a way with words, although i do wish he'd continue on this thread:
"My reputation within our home is one of impulsiveness, hubris and an overall bloated sense of my own survival instincts. Of course, this is entirely unfounded, but we'll leave that for another day."
oooh, what day would that be, sean? keep me posted, natch, 'cause i'd love to hear more about that!

best quiz ever: in our constant quest for self-discovery i urge you to find out your pirate name. obviously, i am captain prudentilla kidd. that's right: captain. so step off.

if airport metal detectors pick up on your glock, you'll still get a second try. i, actually, got FOUR tries through the metal detector at DTW, during which i was forced to carry my squirming dog (he's a carry-on type of dog). the large armful of fur made it hard to remove my belt and other metallic things, but when i asked if i could pass the dog to my travelling companion, o'doyle, who was waiting patiently on the other side of security, i was told that the dog would have to be frisked. which, if you've ever seen a burly security guard frisk a pomeranian, was utterly ridiculous. um, i don't know where i was going with this. two tries solo, four tries with a dog, whatever--we're down to code yellow, people, and security is going to relax.

don't get mad, just move to oklahoma: free marriage counseling abounds in an attempt to keep everyone stifled. marriage initiatives are big right now, but ONLY for heterosexuals, mind you.

posted by jessica at 12:23 PM | Comments (4)

let's start off the morning with a bit of orange.

i could literally feel the blogosphere quaking when summer said whatevs last night, but that, unfortch for grambo et al, was hardly the night's highlight. once again, oliver treated us to another stunning portrayal of a boy on the verge of madness and, if you noticed, the genius was in the slightest things. the flared nostrils while hiding the pic of coop and chino. the glazed, angry eyes as he barrelled the golf cart towards chino and luke (so very, very rebel). the smashed plate: "i'm so stupidstupidstupid!" the dancing and drinks as he waited for coop to come rescue him from a nonexistant suicide attempt...man, oliver, you best check yo'self before chino wrecks yo'self.

rip gets ripped, career is further torn: elmore is busted for drunk driving. i've got to voice my disappointment on this one: as an actor, rip torn has spent considerable time in LA--a town which, in order to survive, necessitates its residents to become solid, responsible drunk drivers since you must drive everywhere. rip should be a pro at this sort of thing (not that i would ever condone drunk driving in the first place, it just seems to be quite the norm in hell-ay).

britney does a positively pathetic job of dodging questions on TRL.
"After only two questions on the matter, she wanted to change the subject. 'I was in Vegas with my friend and we just hit it off ... completely,' she said. 'Let's talk about something else.' She wouldn't expand on the specifics of her connection, sidestepping the query with "'That's a personal question ... but I do have a video coming out and it's really cool.'"
gawd, britney, don't you have publicists to train you on how to handle this sort of thing? or are you too heartbroken by the reality of your forsaken love?

because mtv is really lacking on programming outside of their music video rotations, cameron diaz will be hosting a travel show for the network. hillary duff and frankie muniz will also be hosting programs, but they will feature far less bikini action than diaz's skein.

posted by jessica at 10:21 AM | Comments (2)

January 14, 2004

notes in brief

in an attempt to round out his plate of titles which, up until now, have included hip-hop coattail mogul and part-time harassment expert, damon dash has been accused of rape. the alleged victim concedes she downed eight glasses of champagne and a little ecstasy, but who doesn't now and then?

those crazy kids across the pond have way too much time. but thank god they do, because the guardian has a nice little excel worksheet to help you with your oscar predictions. download it and hit vegas, baby.

radiohead is back in the studio. the boys work too hard.

posted by jessica at 11:30 AM | Comments (0)

wait, liberal media? get out!

i doubt that this will ever materialize, but Progressive Media has signed on Al Franken to host a three hour radio show on their still-nonexistent liberal radio station. this has the potential to shift the media's political landscape--oh, wait, it's AM radio. nevermind.

ah, America's Next Top Model. refreshing, isn't it, to see some skinny idiots stumble in their stilettos? or perhaps it's the instantaneous bitchiness of attractive, competitive lasses that makes me fall in love with this show. and oh, the situations these girls have to face: when else will you see novice models strut the catwalk on a battleship for an audience of marines? so post 9-11, so challenging, so haute couture.

the topic could be anything, really, but we'd like to believe it's anna wintour:
"But how long she can go on is anyone's guess. She is 79, needs a knee replacement, smells faintly of liniment oil and, to conserve her strength, sleeps most of the afternoon before performances."

i didn't think anyone remembered that she used to wear clothes, but paris hilton has been named the worst-dressed celeb of 2003.

interestingly enough, someone actually took the time to determine that the final credits of LOTR have set a record for their length, clocking in at over 9 minutes. honestly, for a 3.5 hour film, i think that's a fair ratio, don't you? the sad part is that not a single one of us knows who or what the key grip is, nor did we stay long enough into the credits to confirm that elijah has his own slew of best boys. (i couldn't resist that. i'm sorry. i tried.)

the flaming lips get some solid and well-deserved coverage while making the white stripes look lazy.

typos are a bitch.

posted by jessica at 03:10 AM | Comments (3)

January 13, 2004

what's wrong with me?

two britney items in under 24 hours has got me worried about my sanity. nevertheless, it must be noted that brit's new video is throwing a "cry me a river"-style jab at JT. wow. way to stage a retort A YEAR LATER. she's totally effed up moved on. also included in cnn's stunning exploration of britney (wait--cnn explores britney? paula zahn, can i get a holla?) is a preview of the concept for britney's new tour:

"The tour has been dubbed the Onyx Hotel Tour, and will feature a stage resembling a magical hotel that grants the wishes and fantasies of those who enter. The Onyx Hotel is 'a vibrant, whimsical place where wondrous dreams are realized, and the darkest of secrets are revealed,' according to a statement made by Jive records.

my most wondrous wish? that you would go away, britney. rehab, therapy, jail, whatever. just disappear. (btw, kelis is slated to open the north american shows, thus upping her visibility but damning her nonetheless.)

stretching the concept of "fashion" and "news" to their utmost limits, the nyt gives us an exploration of the democratic candidates' clothing choices. in what can only be described as a j. blair-esque attempt at creating a story out of nothingness, gina bellafante writes, "It is hard to recall when the sweater has been the subject of so much attention in a presidential race."

british sea power carve out their tour--lots o' US dates, including two in the city of angels. bueno.

speaking of the angeltown, i caught laurel canyon last night and, while it was nothing phenomenal, it was a good LA movie. it made me not hate it here. and the soundtrack is pretty tight tambien.

posted by jessica at 10:39 AM | Comments (4)

January 12, 2004

how does this make you feel?

thank god britney's in therapy. now she's more like the rest of us.

posted by jessica at 12:57 PM | Comments (4)

but will he make trade fair??

why does anyone care which candidates celebs endorse? does gwyneth's potential endorsement of wes clark mean anything at all? celebrity weight may lead to some extra dollars and publicity for a campaign, but really, does it qualify as scoop-worthy? is it dish? no, it is most certainly not. i want my gossip over-sleazy, please.

hot sighting: benjamin mckenzie, aka chino, hiking in the palisades. while he wasn't particularly talkative (his friend was throwing some mad game at the gals), he did donate his water bottle to the parched b-town, who was so lucky as to be in his presence (said water bottle is currently in our office as a trophy). fyi, he does the brooding sideways glance even when he's not acting.

msnbc reports on the new wave of hip-hop spokespersons. i'm not sure why this is such a big deal--hip-hop artists sell huge numbers and garner tons of airplay, so it was only a matter of time before they started hawking nokia or whatever. it's not like they're selling out or anything. they're just pursuing the bling, a goal that inspires much of their art. besides, if companies don't care that their celeb reps are wearing bulletproof vests, then why should we?

tom green hits iraq to entertain the troops. let's hope he stays away from the locals: can you imagine him running around tikrit, doing his schtick? the consequences could be devastating.

big fish and LOTR wind up neck and neck for weekend b.o. tallies; studio heads begin snipping at one another like the big babies they are.

posted by jessica at 10:42 AM | Comments (2)

mexicans do it right

on saturday night we saw 21 Grams and i stand corrected on my earlier picks of big fish and/or cold mountain as the movie(s) of the season. this is it, people. a gut/heart/mind-wrenching movie from the first frame to the last. my mind is still reeling from the philosophical challenges this flick threw at me. i could barely hold a drink after this film--and that, as you may imagine, is quite a situation. also, fyi, naomi watts isn't just a hottie: she can act the pants off of anyone wearing a prosthetic nose. after amores perros, i've got to wonder if alejandro inarritu can do no wrong.

ryan seacrest concedes to the nyt that he's "cheesy" and "metrosexual." nyt concedes to ryan seacrest that it's losing readers just by printing said interview.

the suits can't seem to figure out whether or not file-sharing has dropped. while they bicker over numbers, i suggest they include teens in their survey. radical, i know! of course file-sharing has dropped amongst my parents and their friends--but they were never the problem, now were they?

i had the jet album "on my phonograph" after the holidays as an attempt to defy convention: the convention being, of course, that "get born" sucks. since everyone, even my beloved boyfriends, said it was so stinking bad, i thought i'd be original by bucking popular opinion and checking it out. hell, i wanted to like it, just to root for the band people scoff at. but if you can't tell by the direction this paragraph is heading, i obviously have been defeated in my attempts to like jet: the album blows. the pseudo-bluesy ballads are uninspired and for crap, and while "are you gonna be my girl" and the few other uptempo songs almost rock, there aren't enough of them to make this album worth a second thought. just to end this post on a negative note.

posted by jessica at 12:19 AM | Comments (5)

January 09, 2004

one of them might have a brain

although i question the methodology, i have to admire her goals: nicky hilton dyed her hair brown "to distance herself from paris." apparently nicky doesn't want much to do with paris' whorriffic exploits in front of the camera, be it rick solomon's or the papparazzi's. but still, sweetie, you blew it the second you posed for vanity fair as an S&M cheerleader. graydon carter still keeps that issue in his bathroom.

best. casting. ever. steve buscemi will return to the sopranos as tony's cousin. how great is this? steve buscemi is, by far and away, the best character actor today. billy madison? so much lipstick buzz. the big lebowski? he knew where the in-and-out was. ghost world? poignant, lonely, still funny. big fish? one of the best characters in a crazy ensemble. gawd, i even remember him on Pete & Pete! (total bonus point to anyone who remembers details re: the latter without me having to link to it)

wanna make a quick buck? marry foreigners who have some cash and want a green card. just don't do it FORTY TIMES, or you'll go to jail.

thank GOD someone cancelled the wayne brady show. how that jawn ever earned an emmy or two is beyond me, yo.

posted by jessica at 09:53 AM | Comments (7)

so...

dear, sweet neighbors to our north, where do you get so much time? canadian researchers have studied adjective usage in the scripts from 8 years' worth of "friends." their efforts to determine the effect of popular tv on language has turned up a fascinating result: "so." so, like, the characters on friends say "so" so very frequently and, interestingly, their ratings were so high at the point the characters were saying "so" the most. so, you know, we all obviously say "so" so much more than before the show. the effect is so startling.

pick me, i'm a scab: after almost three months of holding out, i crossed the picket line at the Vons across the street from my apartment. i've been so supportive of the strikers, even if i think it's all gone a bit too far to be effective any longer. as such, i've only shopped at ralph's, which is about 20 blocks away and 20x more expensive. no big deal, except that vons is 50 yards away and hella cheap, so it's been killing me to not stop there on my way home after work. well, kids, i cracked. i was so hungry and tired that i pulled in to the lot without hesitation, crossed the line and bought a can of soup and some saltines. i apologized to the picketers, but they didn't look like they really cared. now i might go back, just because it was so nice and empty in there... i'm such a sinner. ack.

meanwhizz, while i'm being detrimental to society, russell simmons' hip-hop summit action network is stepping up their voter registration drive. i cannot express how effing great i think this--but registering is the easy part. it's getting to the polls when they're overcrowded and everyone has to work that's the real problem. michigan is figuring out the way to ease the hassles of democracy in action; when will everyone else?

posted by jessica at 06:00 AM | Comments (2)

January 08, 2004

as promised, a total rambler

last night's ep of the OC was tight, obviously, but not as tight as it couldn've been. so much rooney that, even if i had wanted the album, i certainly wouldn't buy it now. luke's tires got slashed ("hey, why don't you get your dad to change your tire? i bet he won't mind bending over!"...genius) and now the big bad jock has become the nerdy loser--hell, even seth thinks he's kind of lame. clearly EP josh schwartz is projecting some sort of high school fantasy he still holds on to, but it's just not working. the creepy-nice luke has gone too, too far. meanwhizz, everyone is dressing like anna for the rooney concert and they all look terrible. chino shoots about 200 furtive glances at oliver, who is mos def macking on coop, but no worries: chino not only rescues oliver from a drug arrest, but makes out with coop too.

clearly, howevs, oliver merits his own paragraph. this little man just stole the show with his passionate performance as a cokehead: "i don't care where you are, just get it here now and it better be good!" ahh, so original. better yet, every time one of the gang turns away, oliver is sniffing and twitching. best. and the creepy final shot of ollie stalking the coen manse? foreshadowing-o-rama! but what is up with that hair, homeboy? sideburns need a trim before they grab your eyeballs. finally, i can't end this incoherent post without some mention of the "next week" clips: holy shite, oliver smashing a plate and screaming, "i'msostupidi'msostupidstupidstupid!" best! potential to usurp chino's car-door slamming incident! therapy ain't working! next week will rock your face off! [exhale]

posted by jessica at 02:39 PM | Comments (6)

who needs quizilla

when you've got the guardian online? in a so-random-its-cool move, the blokes want to test you on how well you know the coppolas. turns out that i don't know them that well at all--but that jawn is obscure, so watch yo'self.

more speculation on what's going down with MJ and the nation of islam--are they footing his bills? the blueprint wonders how the noi can endorse MJ when he so clearly denounced his own blackness with a sally hansen bleaching kit...

so busy today. must...write...about...the OC...

posted by jessica at 11:58 AM | Comments (1)

requisite OC post to follow.

let's start today with a bit of no-shit-sherlock news: remember when ashton said punk'd was done? he was just punking you, america! oh, yuk yuk yuk. he's so effing brill. 'scuse me while i yak my breakfast.

if you haven't caught on by now, i heart arrested development and so do the kids over at slate. and rightly so--the show is effing genius, the only original thing to happen to 30 minute comedies since seinfeld. dana stevens finally caught on to my favorite quirk in the show:
"The show also throws out its share of red herrings; for example, each episode ends with a segment previewing some absurd plot developments in the next week's show. It took me several weeks to realize that these clips are entirely fakeíŸÓglimpses of a story line that will never develop."
how ridunculously funny is that?? fake "next week on arrested development" clips! genius. genius. genius.

only in hell-ay: christina applegate is in the jury pool for the robert blake trial. of course she's going to show off how busy and famous she is in a sad-sack attempt to get out of it, but do you really think that either side is going to let kelly bundy get away from them? total legal assets, yo.

brigid hughes is officially named as george plimpton's successor to the paris review. no word yet on whether or not she's nominally attractive; the slightest degree of hotness in a writing woman would send everyone into a tizzy and that would be news.

posted by jessica at 10:15 AM | Comments (6)

January 07, 2004

hit me kentwood one more time

britney, britney, britney. not only did you drink yourself into a 10-hr marriage (and oh, woman, how hath you broke that young man's heart--you can bet he didn't want the annulment), but you've pissed off your townsfolk. it turns out, oddly enough, that struggling rural folk don't want tons of publicity in their crumbling town. you've made millions, brit, and in the meantime, your louisiana roots have suffered. where is your sense of civic duty? you're the only thing they've got, brit. do you honestly think your display in the local museum is enough for these people? while the replica of your stage is indeed stunning, it's not going to boost the local economy. why don't you just move home and work at the A&P? sales will go up instantly.

[the blueprint acknowledges that it is most likely that these guys have already planned a trip to the aforementioned museum, which will assuredly bring in large revenues from all vodka vendors, but we suspect that their dedication to the people of kentwood is fledgling at best.]

posted by jessica at 07:22 PM | Comments (2)

instant diet motivation

aww, shoot girl, put that cookie down! america's top model 2 is hitting upn next thursday! the blueprint hearts this show, not only for its overwhelming sense of self-importance, but for the not-so-bright young things who traipse about as commanded, trying their hardest to perfect their disaffected stares. who can forget last year's finale, when the elfish girl was kicked off for acting like she was smart? this, people, is television at its finest: catty, underfed, and wearing couture.

posted by jessica at 05:59 PM | Comments (3)

not that there's anything wrong with that

if my grandpa were gay, i know he'd dig this: a LGBT retirement complex is opening up in new mexico. ah, NM, so ahead of its time. rainbowvision properties, as it's aptly titled, looks pretty damn nice to me. and, for the record, it takes every ounce of my strength to refrain from making a lewd patient-orderly joke.

posted by jessica at 05:24 PM | Comments (0)

natural progression

you saw it coming, but now it's a press release: nathan lane and matthew broderick will reprise their roles in an adaptation of The Producers for the big screen. with typical hollywood scheduling, however, you'd be lucky to see this one before 2005. no word yet on whether or not larry david will take a part.

pitchfork takes note of the new indie 103.1 in LA. whatever, i covered this yesterday. i've given it three days' listening and i'm a fan. i can't understand how clear channel can call itself indie (um, i recall some exorbitant ticket prices that didn't reflect the independent spirit at ALL), but who cares. it's decent radio and i'm all for it. i can't argue with interpol on the airwaves during my morning drive, can you?

kate hudson pops out chris robinson's baby. it's a boy, and yes, he already has a full beard.

the self-congratulatory awards season is in full swing, and the more obscure orgs are handing out their little statues: american splendor wins best film for the nt'l society of film critics. say wha? voted by whom? i enjoyed this flick, but best picture? doubtful.

posted by jessica at 11:56 AM | Comments (0)

i don't recall asking for this information

in a heartfelt attempt to use a playboy interview as a moment for a personal public service announcement, kiefer sutherland gives us a way too detailed account of smoking pot and trying to have sex thereafter. i know it's playboy, but cmon, kief, that's just nasty.

tv has got me all excited right now, because you KNOW what tonight is! oh yeah, chino is back, baby, and he ain't taking no for an answer! i'm not gonna spoil this ep for all my fellow obsessive-compulsive devotees, but let me just say that its been at least a couple of weeks since we've had some solid drug references (and the crazy sister doesn't count, because that was only one line if you caught it). but tonight, oh tonight, the wait is over, the jig is up. meanwhile, tomorrow night is the premiere of the Apprentice, donald trump's reality-stizz ego parade in which 16 peeps compete for the chance to be his apprentice. frazier moore has some hot quotes from the mogul himself which have got me all rarin' to watch this and unleash the snark. boo-yah!

remember the mid-90s, when being a coffee connisseur was cool? the today show seems to think gourmet coffee is newsworthy; they've even got a handy-dandy guide for you so you know just what to buy (dunkin donuts, obvs!). and, in case you're totally inept, they tell you how to brew coffee too. who knew you needed water? so complicated... so 10 years behind...

if you ever get bored, try walking the length of england naked. for the kids, clearly.

so what: the strokes delay the release of the reptilia single because of artwork issues.

posted by jessica at 09:42 AM | Comments (3)

January 06, 2004

voting that people might actually do

it's time to cast your ballots for the bloggies. go, fellow denizens, go.

posted by jessica at 04:52 PM | Comments (0)

hollywood continues to breed

courtney cox is officially preggers, as opposed to assumedly preggers. she will no doubt be playing the boss in the delivery room.

posted by jessica at 02:12 PM | Comments (0)

i'll be back...with beer

"we" elected him, and now we can drink him, so to speak. some schmo in oregon creates a "pumping iron" beer in tribute to governer schwartzy. the guy is "surprised" that no one in cali thought of it first--is he kidding? why would someone think of that? is that a common thing, to sit there on the couch and be hit with the idea of a governator beer?

an exploration of possibilities from the graveyard of dead tv shows which, this season in particular, is littered with the damned. coupling on dvd? let's hope not.

hurrah hurrah. modest mouse set a release date for their new jawn on march 30th. hot. mm was my soundtrack to thesis "writing" and, in a revival move, they were blasted through my first weeks in LA. i'm eager for some new lovin, boys, so bring it on.

i bought tix for the stills. happy bday to me.

and, because for some reason i'm blogging a lot about music, here's a link to coolfer's quickie rundown of muzak sales and states for 2003. long live the cassette!

it's kind of a slow news day. no hot gossip, brit brit is played out, and i'm digging for content. huff and puff.

posted by jessica at 10:57 AM | Comments (6)

blah

get 'em while they're hot: sperm counts have dropped over 30% in the past 15 years! sadly enough, researchers suspect drinking, drug use and obesity are to blame (three things that the D holds very near and dear to its heart).

dear gwyneth, don't become a celeb that starts babbling too much: paltrow claims acupuncture helped her love life. oh for chrissakes.

so, believe it or not, i missed the premiere of average joe 2: hawaii last night. i had to catch sex and the city, obvs, and then my luggage was finally delivered, so things were busy. but, from the looks of it, the new girl is a brunette version of melena and the guys are intentionally worse. i'm sure i'll dig up more on this later, but the previews alone pretty much summed up the episode: this girl freaks out and is way more angry than melena was, but agrees to stay, if only for the tv exposure and free vacation.

posted by jessica at 09:59 AM | Comments (2)

January 05, 2004

blogpress

wesley clark participates in an online chat w/ 10 prominent bloggers who commit to posting the transcript on their sites. i've been out of the loop as of late--quien es mas macho? in related news, paris hilton has agreed to have night-vision cybersex with 10 unknown bloggers who agree to post the transcript.

posted by jessica at 05:53 PM | Comments (1)

new year, new shows

i feel very guilty: for all the great bands that come thru hell-ay, i've seen very few. so, along with the usual resolutions for 2003 (diet, be clean, don't do bad stuff), i've resolved to get my lazy arse to as many decently priced shows as possible. so, um, i'll probably be at three of these, but it's a start.

• 1.16 Ima Robot @ Henry Fonda Theatre
  
• 1.17 Decemberists @ the Echo
  
• 1.21 Yeah Yeah Yeahs @ the Troubadour (so totally sold out--must start scheming)
  
• 1.23 The Thrills @ the Troubadour
  
• 1.30 Ted Leo/Rx @ the Echo
  
• 2.06 The Shins @ Henry Fonda
  
• 2.21 The Walkmen @ Henry Fonda
  
• 2.26 The Stills celebrate my birthday at the Troub (you know i will force my way on stage for that)

[obvs, this post will be my point of reference when i forget everything tomorrow.]

posted by jessica at 04:07 PM | Comments (3)

ebert schmebert

mass consumption of media this holiday season. i checked out mad quanities of movies, and let me tell ya, Cold Mountain is the longest, slowest, but most beautiful movie i've seen in a long time. honestly, for the middle 2 hours, nothing happened. and yet i wasn't bored at all. awesome cast, with the exception of jack white, who had far too many lines and minutes on screen. otherwise, great performances--hell, i even liked zelly! predictable ending, but necessary for heartstrings to be pulled. on the note of heartstrings, Love Actually tried way too hard to manipulate my emotions. far too contrived to be entertaining, unfortch. cute, yeah yeah, but ultimately as foppy as hugh grant's hair. all other studio canal films are superior. finally caught The Last Samurai, which, if you ignore tommy cruise, is pretty darned good as well. it's all about ken watanabe. and yeah, i know it's historically inaccurate and whatever, but that's hollyhood so whatev. i couldn't tell you what i thought of Something's Gotta Give, mostly because the theatre was 900 degrees and i could barely breathe throughout the whole thing--but i do recall being quite grossed out by jack nicholson. and wait--diane keaton naked? i'm not old enough for that shizz! finally, Big Fish ties with Cold Mountain as my pick for the season's best thus far (i have yet to see in america or 21 grams, so don't hold me to any of this). go ahead and string me up for mockery, but i dislike tim burton. in big fish, however, his loopy style was so poignant and accessible that i cried for the final 30 minutes. it's not a traditional, plot-driven movie, but it works because every single actor cranks out a solid performance. ewan, i officially forgive you for your involvement in down with love, and we can resume our engagement.

due to the horrific weather that made yesterday one of the worst days ever, i missed sex and the city. while sniffing over the reality that i would not be snuggled up in front of the tube in time for the show's much-awaited return, i read emily nussbaum's articulation of the show's obsessive following--which nearly brought me to tears. yeah, i'm a mess. whatever.

posted by jessica at 10:58 AM | Comments (2)

guess who's bizack

so britney got married. old news. the real news was discovered on my sunny morning drive to work (and oh, how i did miss the sun) when i noted that throbbing techno-trance station 103.1 has become a self-proclaimed "indie" station. yes, clear channel has now introduced indie 103.1 to los angeles and, while it's hardly playing prophecies of what's to come, it seems a helluva lot better than kroq, which, despite its roots, has become absolutely hideous. and, for now, indie 103 will have continuous programming minus the schlocky jocks. earth-shattering radio? not at all, but hearing "where i end and you begin" on my morning commute ain't too shabby.

while i was marooned at chicago midway for 10 hours yesterday (only to arrive at lax sans luggage!) the newspaper lady was kind enough to hand out free nyts to anyone looking glum. anywho, arts had a hearfelt article on emo/pop-punk/et al's new aim to speak to the depressed teens of the world with messages of hope; i have to question, however, michael azerrad's choice in closing the article with the following quote from lee huff, prez-elect of the nt'l board of school psychologists, in regards to musicians addressing depression:

"Bless their hearts," he said. "It certainly goes a long from talking about killing bitches and whores and cops and everything else doesn't it? If kids listen to rock music more than they listen to a teacher in a classroom, God bless us that they're getting the message."

wait, wait, whoa. you're going to close a sunday times article with a "god bless" quote? i'm sorry, sir, you must be stripped of your laptop immediately. gawd.

posted by jessica at 10:12 AM | Comments (1)