Real Being the Operative Word

I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but I love the South. They put butter into all of their foods. My accent(s) doesn't annoy people and they use "y'all" as much as I do and you can say "hey" instead of "hi". Some pretty good literature came from those parts too. I can say in all honesty that Atlanta is one mega city I can comfortably live in (see above). So when the good people at Bravo decided to take their Real Housewives series down to the ATL I was very pleased. Here is a clip of the emerging reality star Nene drunkenly humiliating a friend set to song in what seems to be a stretched Hummer:

One word: magic. These Peachtree bitches truly reflect the lifestyle of the Southern Queen in a way I never could but secretly aspire to. The equation is so simple: lots of make up, wigs, and sugar daddies. An IQ hovering around 80 is preferable, but the discerning gentlemen would consider upwards to 85. Sadly, I am mismatch for this criteria but wait! There is a thriving Hippie community in Atlanta, the upwardly-mobile Yuppies, the music/film/theater hipsters, the aging old school rednecks, the Chablis-n-Commute businessmen, and the all pervasive, all encompassing African American culture. Also, a really shitty but really large airport. Oh, Atlanta. I hear you callin.

Holy Phelps!

Quick question: Do you think that Michael Phelps, the greatest Michael Phelps of all Michael Phelps, will Michael Phelps OR will he Michael Phelps? Because, personally, I think Michael Phelps will totally Michael Phelps. Why should we Michael Phelps any of the other 450 Michael Phelps when Michael Fucking Phelps is there? Michael Phelps can do no Michael Phelps. This Michael Phelps is so Michael Phelps that only Michael Phelps, if Michael Phelps succeeds, Michael Phelps could literally Michael Phelps. So what if Michael Phelps looks like a Michael Phelps and acts like a Michael Phelps and, probably, Michael Phelps to Michael Phelps. MICHAEL PHELPS YOU.
Go Michael Phelps!!!!

Dues ex Machina

I have a terrible confession to make: I love infomercials. Take the most useless product, film a thirty minute piece of propaganda about that product, fill those thirty minutes with third rate actors, bad lighting, and relentless BUY BUY BUY speech which for the most part completely disregards honesty and reliability and there you are. Me on the lazyboy avidly watching. Improve my golf swing? Prepare cake and fish cakes in the same cooker at the same time? Eradicate dust mites? But wait, there's more? Holy shit, I love watching this stuff.
But you know what kind of commercials I hate? Commercials that say, "Hey, I'm not a commercial. I am YOU. Only more clever, sexy, and fun. Give me your money and we'll make a deal." Infomercials do not pretend to be me. They just want to be my friend. Fair enough. But certain companies with too much money and not enough time (look into 30 minutes!) try to squeeze in all of their pushy, desperate, annoying bits in 60 seconds and I'm not having it. I want you to sell your shit, ad people, not play with it.

WTF was that? Thanks for ruining that song Candy Posers.

I....you know, actually, they're gonna have to sweeten the deal with not just one, not just two, but four gangbangs for $19.95. Because that's what these ho's are worth.

That's the last time, Bender. Thats the last time you ever make me look bad in front of those kids, you hear me? I make $31,000 a year and I have a home and I'm not about to throw it all away on some punk like you. Wait a second, are those from Penny's?

Nobody would like you if you didn't have your damn low, low rollback prices, Wal-Mart. Keep your dirty hands off Carol of the Bells.

Ugh. Too much. Too much lying. Too many falsehoods and outrageous claims written by corporate goons with too little time. I am a simple person. All I need are paid performers with no experience talking about something they've never heard of before in a studio setting and also Cher is there as well. Or that Dyson guy.

Word Up

In spite of this silly, confusing world we've surrounded ourselves with I endeavor to find something that remains pure and undiminished. Life is too short to sweat the big stuff so I'm gonna begin a series of topic that I believe to be good, decent, and everlasting. Let's go ahead and shoot my foot off with #1: PBS.
Ok, say what you like. You don't tune in everytime there is a new American Experience. You think that fundraising twice a year and noncommercialism is the long way up a short hill. You never learned to read. I feel your pain...no, I lie.
PBS is the last bastion of new communication-the free stuff. You don't need a subscription. You don't need a uniform. But you will need an intelligence quotient and that least capitalized American virtue-an open mind. In TV world PBS is the gentle professor, it is the uncharted heart, and it can go on forever. I defy you to say that you can't love this:

They are some good singers! So classical and yet so fresh. Give some of your extra money to these people.

Personality #48: Hater

Like most households, we have a routine in the morning that centers around the act of waking. For our part, my husband and I drink coffee and watch 15 or so minutes of the Today show in the bedroom. I suppose that ostensibly we're also watching Channel 2 for local weather and news, because in "my neck of the woods" Julie Chin in a little burst of sunshine and Erin Kristie's hair and makeup fascinate me. But what I really, really like to do is to lie in wait for Anne Curry.
The boobs on the Today show are bland as pudding; I'm talking to you Lauer. Their topics (Should You Save Money for Retirement?) push the borders of inane/offensive/boring and the "hard" news is terrifyingly soft. What gives me that extra something over my Folgers is a force of bad journalism, a horse of many colors, a fashionista of the damned-Anne Curry. So many questions explode in my brain when she is on screen. Where does she come from? Is her closet arranged in alpha order? Is she even literate? As a way of explaining La Curry, I think of her as a sufferer of Multiple Personality Syndrome and try to identify which personality she is at any given moment. Like the lady herself, it's amusing as it is pathetic.

Personality #17. Team Member. As a professional, Anne will go to any lengths to prove her importance within the NBC family. Even when her family chronically sends her far, far away and then laughs at her. She makes a good show of bucking it up, but you know she knows what they are thinking.
"I'm still heeeeeeerrrrrrre!" In Antarctica.

Personality #54. Serious Journalist. Oh her grave tone of voice. Her furled brow. The grand judgement statements letting us know she cares. If only she could get by with posing alone this woman could save the world.
Way to go, Anne. Way to go.

Personality #378. Human Being. In a bold move Anne has decided to display not only her sense of humor (!), her uncanny ability to read words while looking at a camera, but she also gives snaps to the fashion forward nerd in all of us. This, finally, is the Curry!


Outside of being black and male, Hardaway's mug is exactly like mine when watching Anne.