JANUARY 22nd, 2011 -- ARTSY FARTSY FLUFF CRAP DAY

JANUARY 22nd, 2011 – ARTSY FARTSY FLUFF CRAP DAY

DATELINE: TEACHING EM YOUNG TO BOOM-CHAKA-CHAKA – What do you do when you have no plot, no writing and apparently no budget to produce a real crappy show? You have 16-year-olds strip down to almost nothing, snort a few lines, and go down on each other for the camera. You then change the name of it from Child Exploitation and Pornography to Skins and claim it is just portraying an accurate picture of life as a teenager and pulling in the money doing it, because there is nothing that appeals to a whole lot of sick handy-wankers than watching a show with naked kids. I can only imagine how long it will be before this is picked up as a regular staple for Vatican TV, because while the producers of this crap claim it ‘is a show that addresses real-world issues confronting teens in a frank way’, it is going to give total thrilly-chills to asshole pedophiles. It also really doesn’t do a heck of a lot to help parents who actually do try to teach their children that this fucked-up crap is neither glamorous or the right way to be popular, and can fuck up their lives. It’s a bit of a hard sell when the kids used on the show are raking in the cash for doing it.

DATELINE: HANDING OUT THE CRYING TOWELS – Camille Grammer could hardly make it though the season finally of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills – imagine my pain at that fucking news. How the hell does this shit even get to be a real television program? Anyways, she cried her way through it, totally brokenhearted over her failed marriage with Kelsey Grammer. You wanna know how to be less humiliated, Camille? Do it like everyone else in the REAL fucking world has to do it, suck it up and quietly get on with the rest of your life. You are not the first person in the world to be married to a bastard, you will not be the last… but seriously honey, you are adding one hell of a lot of fuel to your ex’s fire as to why the hell he ditched you. Show some class… keep the details to yourself, because quite frankly, your melodramatic over-elitist privileged whining is just getting fucking annoying.

DATELINE: HEAVING A HUGE FUCKING SIGH OF RELIEF – You won’t believe it! Madonna and Prince no longer dislike each other!!! SQUEEEEEEEEEE. I have only one question… why the fuck is this considered news? This is kindergarten bullshit. They had a fight, they took some shots at each other in public over the last many years… all of it the result of unrequited love no doubt. I have a great idea for you both… Put it in a fucking song, then record the song, then sell the fucking recordings, then donate the money so that in some way this can have some significance to real fucking shit that is happening in the world. Now, if we can only get Piers Morgan to love Madonna again, so she can be on his new CNN show, the world will be positively perfect! It could be a bit of a tall order though, what with the ‘bread roll throwing incident in London’, the Canes Film Festival ‘involving a photographer and a bodyguard’ and the ‘pub’ incident. Add to that the ‘crime’ of Piers getting scooped on the Madonna pregnancy thing. Piers, sweetheart, it was Madonna the performer who was pregnant, not the real Madonna, so who gives a flying fuck if she was knocked up. ‘A series of crimes’? Give me a fucking break. It would be interesting to see how the hell these fucking idiots would manage with real fucking issues to deal with, especially without the media helping them to play them out. You are not going to find sympathy or understanding here, babies… so all of you should just grow the fuck up.

DATELINE: ROLLING UP THE RED CARPET – Ricky Gervais made some offending comments at the Golden Globes last Sunday? Well, thank Christ, because that means we do not have to go through the endless bullshit of who wore what, who looked like a whore, who spent the most money on their shoes and hair pins. For days after these events we are usually inundated with nothing that has to do with the actual awards, the work done by the actors, writers, producers, but rather who bought the prettiest fucking dress. Well, this time, at least it’s not the dress, but rather the pot shots taken at Charlie Sheen, Angelina Jolie, Johnny Depp, Bruce Willis and Robert Downey Jr. Come on, people… you want to live your lives in the spotlight, then put on some big kid pants and suck it up. God knows you make more money than fucking God for what you do, so call this a little bit of the dues you get to pay.

ARTSY FARTSY FLUFF CRAP DAY!

DAILY NEWS, SATURDAY JANUARY 15th, 2011
ARTSY FARTSY FLUFF CRAP DAY!

DATELINE: IN THE CLOSET WITH HIS DIOR GOWN AND MANOLO BLAHNIK SHOES – There is nothing so grand as a down and dirty, roll in the gutter, publicly fought celebrity divorce, and do we have a good one on the go now. Camille Grammer, talking to Howard Stern, has this week implied that Kelsey, the long-time star of his own show Frasier, is a cross-dresser. Now, I am not really sure just how that ‘happens’ to come up in conversation, and I am not really sure why the hell I am supposed to give a crap about what the man likes to wear under his trousers or under his own roof, but you have to admit, that gig worked like a charm for Klinger in M*A*S*H – it didn’t get him out of the army, but it sure as hell got him a great spot in our hearts. Camille, hon, perhaps it’s time you stopped trying to appeal to the court of public opinion, because we really don’t need to know the details, and you spewing this crap in the media only makes you look foolish. Take the high road… if he was an asshole, and one suspects that a phoned-in request for divorce is not only asshole-ish but also cowardly, you are better off to let him go (sans a couple cool million from his bank account) and let him seek his youth with his newest in-flight dish. Your life could be so much worse, like if he gave you a secret Brazilian retreat all of your very own, and it just got washed down the mudslide. Sorry, but it’s sympathy you want for your impending ‘hardships’, you’re better off looking in a dictionary between ‘shit’ and ‘syphilis’ than you are crying to the public via Howard Stern. You are losing an asshole husband… not your home, not your health, not your life, so pull on some big girl panties… preferably not a set from Kelsey’s bureau, though, okay?

In other news, *insert eye roll here* Kelsey Grammer told David Letterman this week that he and his new love interest, Kayte Walsh are already planning to walk down the aisle next month. ‘She’s my new girl’ he said with a smile. Nice to know that women are disposable… either that, or he just has to keep something handy to nail with the old Grammer hammer.

DATELINE: WATCHING SPLASH-DOWN AFTER A METEORIC RISE – Three weeks ago, Ted Williams was standing on the side of a road holding a sign begging for money and work for his gifted voice. Two weeks ago, we watched the emotional reunion of Williams with his 93-year-old mother as he started down his road to fame and future. This week, there he was on Doctor Phil, having a very public ‘intervention’ because of a fight he had with his daughter, and his daughter’s accusations that he was drunk. Welcome to the world of celebrity. I hope that someone grabs a brain enough to help him navigate the hostile shark-filled waters he is now swimming in, that the media backs the hell off and, when Williams gets out of rehab, he is allowed to just live his damned life, with a job and an income – it’s all the guy was asking for.

DATELINE: CAUGHT IN A WEB OF DISASTER – At the risk of being mistaken for offering the first line of a joke, did you hear that the opening of the Spiderman production has been postponed? Again? For the gazillionth time? After having four actors injured in the production, a plethora of technical glitches, crappy reviews and, in December, the lead actress walking away from the project, they have announced that there will be another delay ‘to rehearse the new ending’. In the few performances that have been held, attendance has been almost a sell-out, but with the absolutely fucking crazy amount of money spent on this so far, it would have to sell out every performance for the next many years just to break even. If they don’t seriously get their shit together, I can already see the new ending in my mind’s eye… a charity benefit concert for major investor Bono.

DATELINE: DREAMING OF A REMOTE ISLAND WITH NO TELEVISION RECEPTION – Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!! I can hardly contain my excitement!! The two token celebs that will be partaking in the newest Survivor will be none other than Russell the pipsqueak asshole and Boston Rob, the most overused contestant in the history of reality television. Always searching for that one cutesy hook to bring the viewers back in to be voyeurs of the bitchy, backstabbing handshakes and deals for ‘survival’, the show has dipped into its bag of old, washed-up driftwood and come up with two contestants who in no way imaginable ‘need’ a million dollar win. Their participation should have been contingent on them donating their potential payout to charity but no, instead we will watch these two and their colossal egos lie, steal and cheat to get that holy grail that has evaded them for so long… well, okay, not really. Not in Boston Rob’s case, because he married the million dollar winner from his first time at bat, then won the million on The Amazing Race, but in his other two times on Survivor, he didn’t win, so really, give the poor guy a fucking break, right? And Russell… the poster child for Small Man Syndrome, with an ego the size of fucking Texas and the bank account to match, is on for his third time, so he can brag about how he controls the game all the way through, then bitch and whine at the end when the jury decides he is just too much of an asshole to be given the pot, and again we can see another display of amazing grace in defeat. There is a simple way to stop the bullshit… switch the pitch, people, and tell them all that their 15 minutes of fame is long gone.

DATELINE: LEADING THE PARADE AS THE SAINTS COME MARCHING IN – I know this is not really a typical artsy-fartsy fluff crap day story, but what the hell… its theatre at its best, filled with irony and smoke and mirrors. Yesterday the Pope announced that Pope John Paul II has been beatified, moving him a step closer to sainthood. Whereas in most other cases it takes years, decades, even centuries for all the criteria to be met in order for the halo to be bestowed on holy head, this time we are taking the fast track. The only thing left on the old check-off sheet is the confirmation of one more miracle, and you know, those with the direct line to God have already predicted when it will come, and when the J2P2 will receive his final proclamation, complete with wings and harp. They are already planning for the investiture to take place, already proposing dates in 2011 when it will happen, are already making room for him in the nave of St Peter’s, the place where the truly holy are rolled to from their commonplace papal crypts in the basement. The coffin, interestingly will not be opened, although one of the standards for sainthood had been that the body does not decompose. Guess they don’t want to open that Pandora’s box. So, despite the many thousands of people who were raped and abused by priests during John Paul II’s reign, despite the many bishops and cardinals who were told to cover it up, despite the hundreds of thousands of orphaned children in Africa, alone because their parents perished from AIDS because the church forbids them to use condoms despite the fact that they tested HIV positive, despite the fact that many of these children themselves have AIDS and will die early in life because they have no way to afford the cost of treatment, despite the many backroom deals brokered to pay off and purchase the silence of victims while priests were taught to do the ‘Shuffle Off To Boston’ two-step, yes, we will bow down and scrape the ground before this man who deserved to be fast-tracked to sainthood. I guess it was better this way, before people really had the chance to assess all that he didn’t do.