My favorite lede of the week
"Many moons ago, back when Britney washed her hair and we didn't know what a Kim Kardashian was,"...
The Fug girls never disappoint.
between a roux and a bechamel
"Many moons ago, back when Britney washed her hair and we didn't know what a Kim Kardashian was,"...
Overextend good intentions drive me a little batty sometimes. Case in point. The core of racism is the belief that people of particular races aren't as capable/worthy/what have you as others. SNL looking beyond race in casting Fred Amrisen as Barack Obama, and on to actual content and capability, is the exact opposite of racism, and the exact opposite of a problem. I assume SNL gave everyone in their current cast a shot at the role. If they'd gotten Kennan Thompson to do the impression, and it was a bad one, wouldn't people complain that they'd just dropped the character duties on him because he's black? I thought Fred Armisen's Obama impersonation was really great. SNL had somebody with the skill set in house to fulfill the duties, and fulfill them well. What's the problem?
Becks sent out a twitter recently declaring quarterlife unwatchable and begging us not to be fooled otherwise. Don't worry. I completely agree with you. I want my hour back. That show was the worst thing I've seen in a very, very long time. And not even enjoyable bad, like Rock of Love. Just plain old terrible.
The term "in the tank" has been used a lot lately. Julian Sanchez wonders where exactly that term comes from.
Cat owners live longer than everybody else. I am so living forever.
Just so that the 8,000,000 invitations and press releases are actually good for something other than clogging my inbox and making me jealous.
Catherine saw the first show. Here are my condensed thoughts on last night's show:
Want this. Want it now. But, in the grand tradition of anytime I've ever bought anything with the intention of putting it to sexy use (ling/erie, the big box of condo/ms, stupid shit at a se/x to/y party*), it would almost certainly usher in a very boring era in my bedroom. So for the sake of getting any anytime soon, I'll refrain.
Seriously? First, you don't bring the double-boyfriend-extravaganza tour to my city. Then, when you do decide to stop by D.C., you do it when I'm gonna be out of the country. Britt, are you trying to tell me something? If you're not careful, I'm going to have to find another tall blonde lead singer of an indie rock band to fantasize about.
I probably shouldn't be as surprised by this as I am, but my good friend Becky (who's wedding I get the pleasure of participating in next weekend) is a lawyer in Charlotte, NC. She attended a women in law forum yesterday, where the hot button issue was: are North Carolina court rooms ready for women in pants suits. The verdict: nope. Apparently stodgy old white guy judges just cannot abide by women in pants. She also displeased the establishment greatly when she had a cast on her foot and couldn't wear pantyhose for a couple months.
"He is such a dog. You know, sometimes I think God messed up. Like how I was supposed to be black."
I saw Step Up 2: The Streets this weekend. Aside from hearing the voice of Michael McDonald singing every time I type the title, I have been preoccupied with street dancing ever since. This movie, it was amazing. Not so much for the acting, which wasn't the best, but the dancing was out of this world. It makes the dancing in the original Step Up look like amateur hour. Seriously. I cannot express how deeply awesome it was. I went to see the movie in Ballston Mall, and after leaving the theater, went directly to FYE to buy the sound track. I am now DVRing every episode of that dance crew reality show on MTV, because Stacy told me some of the dancers from the movie are on the show. Stacy, Jamie, Jenna and I are currently planning a trip to a dance club (do you think The Dragon actually exists in Baltimore?), where we can hone our skills and possibly add some members to our crew. We don't have a name yet, but as the movie taught us, that will only be unveiled when we release our prank video on YouTube, in order to be considered for competition in the big street dance contest. Moral of the story: if you like stuff that is awesome, go see Step Up 2.
"It's in your pen, right? You just have to let it out."
Slate's Dana Stevens:
Hansard and Irglová's lovely of performance of "Falling Slowly," their halting DIY ballad, compared to Kristin Chenoweth's studiously proficient belting of that big Enchanted number as an Obama rally compares to a McCain event. It was a glimpse of a possibility that the old (71-year-old party warhorses and chirpy blondes borne on the shoulders of male dancers)—may be giving way to the new (Kenyan-Hawaiian-Illinoisan activists and Czech/Irish songwriting teams).
Don't get me wrong -- Rihanna is astoundingly beautiful. She reaches levels of perfect physical beauty so high that it's almost creepy. The girl's a knock out. But, when I saw this picture on People, before reading any captions or headlines, I completely and totally thought it was Prince. But hey, Prince is rather pretty too. With a killer stage presence. So it's not necessarily a bad thing. Just, maybe, rethink the 'do?
If my boy Jon Forde were still around, he'd be really stoked for this. Or maybe enraged. I'm not sure. But either way, he's the first person I thought of when I read "live action Akira movie."
Headline not related to content. Here, have some links:
I should be embarrassed by how much I enjoyed this. I should have been embarrassed all those many, many times Betsy used to walk into my room in college and find me dancing alone to "Rich Girl." I should have been embarrassed by how much I actually kind of liked this video, even if only for it's complete and utter insanity and clearly coke-based concept. I should maybe be embarrassed that every time I think of that SNL clip mocking Behind the Music where Chris Katan sits on a stairway and says, "I'm Oats," I break down into incontrollable laughter. But I'm not. Viva H&O. I can't wait for episode 2 of "Live from Daryl's House" to drop on March 15.
I couldn't breath for a moment when I read the headline, "Spoon Announce Tour with The Walkmen." Could any bill be more perfectly designed to fill my head with love and anticipation and awesomeness to the point of explosion? No. No it could not. I have dreamt about a show like this. Stories have been written about a day like this. And what do my two beloveds go and do? Well, I'll tell you what they DON'T do -- they don't schedule a date in D.C. Am I going to have to drive to Virginia Beach for this? I might. I just might.
Kriston: I realized yesterday, actually, that you're now a bigger video game nerd than I am.This weekend after tasting the sweet challenge of Guitar Hero for the first time at Jon's, I gave Alyssa the school yard upsell, and before I knew it we were putting a PS2 and Rock Band into her car. Then spent 5 hours straight playing. I also am about to embark on another video-game-related-thingy that I'll tell you about later. And, right now, this second, there sits a Wii and Guitar Hero in my trunk. Which I raced out to get the second I heard that the Best Buy near my office had them in stock. And I have a standing appointment to play Rock Band this weekend. I've gone from zero to geek in no time. Anybody wanna go outside and play real life sports and talk face to face and stuff? Save me!
Kriston: You're going to be playing Halo soon enough.
Kriston: Then your transition to the Dark Side will be complete. Face it, Mattos: you are 1337.
The name and email that was added to my wallet on its 3 week bender across the DMV? Didn't know a thing about any missing wallets. I'm starting to think my wallet went on some sort of coming of age journey, making friends, hitchiking across the region. And he's finally made his way home -- a little more savvy, a little too cocksure, and totally grounded.
My mom, telling me about her date last night. "I think it went well. He texted me when I got home."
Three weeks ago I lost my wallet. Somewhere between celebrating Capps' birth at Recessions and liberating myself with dance at DC9, it disappeared. I put out an APB, I called managers and commissions left and right, and nothing. Nobody ever attempted to use any of my cards, however, so I remained hopeful. Well, today that hope panned out.
Just chatted with a flower delivery man in the elevator. He told me that their store -- one florist! -- has 200,000 deliveries today. Just in Tysons Corner. He asked, "have you gotten yours yet?" I politely said, "no, not yet." But what I was thinking was more like this:
Apparently <3 day '08 means video content ONLY here at blogs t r e t c h. This is a really sweet cover of "Tonight You Belong to Me" by Fiona Apple, Nickel Creek and a few others. It's a nice little love song, full of wonderfully folky strings. Enjoy!
Remember a couple weeks ago when I mentioned that I spent a Saturday judging a cooking competition between Spencer and Megan? Well, the video evidence is now uploaded and ready for mass consumption. I've never had the... pleasure(?) of watching myself chew before. It's not as mortifying as it could be, I guess. At least I chew with my mouth closed. (As do all of the other extremely polite judges on our panel.) I hope you enjoy my blatant shilling via the DCist sticker on my belt. It's a super long video, but you'll have to wait till the end to see whose cuisine reigns supreme. Anyhow, here's the video. Enjoy!
Is this for real? Those pictures look so photoshopped.
Saturday night, some lovely lady friends and I tried out the new wine bar on 14th St, Cork. Kate and I are completely enamored with it and want it to be our new boyfriend. On a Saturday night a week after it opened, it was about as packed as you'd imagine. But even though we waited over an hour for our table, we didn't really mind. We had a great bartender taking care of us while we waited, suggesting wines and being generally charming. The hosts checked in frequently enough to make us know we weren't forgotten. And when we finally did get our table, we had a very hot, mildly flirty waiter -- which really kicks the quality factor up quite a bit on a girls' night out. We tried flights of wine -- which were reasonably priced ($9 - $14) and really delicious. Kate and I got the Grenache flight and Kay got the Cab Franc flight, and all of us loved what we drank. The menu is made up of small plates -- hot and cold, plus cheese and charecuterie selections. We got the amazing french fries ($5), which came with some deliciously basily homemade ketchup*, and the chicken liver bruschetta, which as Kate put it was like spreading cold amazing gravy on grilled bread. So basically we couldn't have enjoyed ourselves more and I can't wait to go back. The cheese, shrimp and brioche dishes are calling my name.
Why does TV think that anyone who is immortal must occupy themselves with crime solving? Since most of their cases take about one week to solve, I don't know that living forever is that big a help.
Of the dozens and dozens of fashion week products I've been judging on the internets all week, this is by far my favorite. I actually gasped when I saw it.
Features all sorts of colorful high tops and the fly dancing and cuts between settings we've come to expect from Misdemeanor throughout her career.Oh my gosh! Mimes! Mimes with white sneakers as mime gloves! And DDR. These ninja clown baseball player people are kinda creepy, but my god I love Missy Elliot. The song's not that hot actually, but the video is of the highest quality. WHOA, it just became a completely different song and video. New beat and house party setting. Am I liveblogging my response to a music video? I think I am. I have so many new dance moves to learn. Namely how to "shake it like a pom pom."
New Lenny Kravitz video. The song isn't complete crap, but he does appear to have recently received song-writing-coaching from the guy who does the One Tree Hill theme song. And what's with the necklaces? The only word I can think of to describe them is... shiny. My coffee hasn't had its effect yet. But LK seems to be embracing that Fat Tuesday spirit. Also, wait for the highly improbably appearance of an orchestra in the middle of this one-man affair. Given all these factors, we should all place our bets right now about which hour long drama will use it over a scene first (**if the writer's strike clears up nice and quick like). Here's a mediocre video for a mediocre song that didn't really deserve to be blogged about. Enjoy the shiny necklaces, y'all.
I used to watch Nip/Tuck. I watched this season's premier. Let my DVR record the next few, never watched them, then decided to let this one go. It's always been completely off the meds, but it's gone from edgy and compelling to pure shock value in the past few seasons. For some reason I just decided to read some recaps of this season so far, and my sweet holy god. Topics covered in the 3 episodes I've read about: a woman defecating in a hot tub, scientology leading to meth addiction in a couple with a new born baby, said meth addicted father doing gay porn to make drug money, straight to lesbian to straight to lesbian to i have no idea, a high school girl who is an evil sloot who lost her virginity to a horse and got her hymen reconstructed and is coaching a younger girl in how to be bulimic, a wealthy plastic surgeon deciding to turn tricks for L.A.'s wealthy and batshit nutty older women, an eagle attacking Rosie O'Donnell's face while she hanglides, yet another person switching between sexual orientations like it's a hair color, and much, much more. I am really glad I stopped watching this show. And yet, I can't seem to stop reading these recaps.
In the coolest of ways! Tyler's new band just got an opening slot for The Walkmen. I wish I could go to cheer so many of my favorite people on, but unfortunately it's on a week night. In Charlottesville. Regardless of my presence, I'm sure it'll be great.
If you couldn't tell or guess by now, I'm supporting Obama. I won't bog this down with too much politics talk (I mean, don't you people come here to find out what I had for dinner last night, and whether or not I fell asleep on the couch or my bed?), but this is a very important election year, in case you hadn't noticed. Spencer's got a good summary of why he's the right choice. As does most every other liberal blogger I know (read: every D.C. friend I have). On this super/fat Tuesday, if there are elections in your state, take the opportunity to vote. And if you want my humble opinion on the matter, vote for Barack Obama. Wouldn't it be nice to have a leader that inspires rather than embarrasses? That progresses instead of entrenches? I think so. When Virginia's primaries take place next week, you know who I'll be voting for. Si se puede!
After spending the day with Catherine, a portion of which was devoted to singing the praises of pineapple juice, I found myself waking up at 3am. Coughing. Sneezing. Feeling bad. What did I do? I went to the fridge and cracked open a can of pineapple juice. You see, in addition to reducing swelling and mending broken bones, CatAn also argues that the wonder juice cures colds. So here I sit, having my morning can of PJ, and feeling, I must admit, a little bit better. I think this may be a matter of juice over matter, but it seems to be working, at least a little.
1. DipDive's "Yes We Can" video