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.

AUGUST 14th, 2010 - ARTSY FARTSY FLUFF CRAP DAY

AUGUST 14th, 2010 – ARTSY FARTSY FLUFF CRAP DAY

DATELINE: IN THE RING, ON THE MAT, GETTING HIS ASS SERVED UP ON A PLATTER – A rather nauseating thought when considering ‘his ass’ belongs to that fucking moronic blowhard Bill O’Reilly. This week, his target was Jennifer Aniston, because she is in a movie in the roll of a woman who wants a child without having the pre-requisite husband. For starters, Bill... she is playing a fucking fictional character. Duh! But amidst all your babble and crap about the needs of two parents, a mother and a father in order to raise a child ‘properly’, where the fuck are you and your tirades when movies come out about the handsome, charming, witty fucking playboys? Where is their responsibility, or does it not matter that their playing around can, and... I know this will shock the fucking crap out of you, Bill... it can and it does result in children being born out of wedlock and with the father having no intention at all of being tied down? Why is it okay for that to happen? Because the men don’t get pregnant, so its fine for them? Or perhaps you embrace that wonderful Middle East ‘beat the adultresses to death’ mentality because obviously if she is sleeping with men, she must be a whore and a sinner. How convenient to be able to forget that for every woman sleeping with a man, there is a man sleeping with a woman. Do you not ever get tired of the fucking double standards that constantly spew from your indignant fucking lips? Why do you not damn these male characters, and the actors playing them, for totally destroying the moral values of the world? Get a fucking grip on reality, Idiot.

DATELINE: ON THE STAGE ACCEPTING THE PRIZE FOR THE MOST APTLY NAMED MOVIE OF THE MILLENIUM – Stallone is back, in what is nothing more than another really really really really bad fucking Rambo movie, but what else should we have expected. There is one character he is able to play, the one limited to cliche lines, bad acting, posing with automatic weapons and extolling the virtues of being the monosyllabic low-IQ herculean ‘tough guy’ who has the solution for everything in life strapped around his shoulder. As if a plethora of fucking Rocky and Rambo movies just were not enough, Stallone now has a new character (co-written, directed and played by himself – because seriously, what the hell writer would want to even touch this crap), Barny Ross, to flog us with for the next ten fucking years... he is truly the master at taking an incredibly one-dimensional character way beyond the fucking limit. Why anyone would pay ten cents to see this crap is beyond me. At least, through, the title will make it easier to do the single word review of this blather – Expendable.

DATELINE: ON A THREAD, OVERHEAD – This has to be the way he will be making his entrance. Who? Well Spiderman, of course. Yes, he will be swinging onto a stage near you, singing his fucking ass off because where the hell would we be without Spiderman: The Musical – Turn Off The Dark. Topping the roster as one of the most expensive stage productions ever, this one will even have superheroes flying around the fucking theatre – quite a feat if you happen to land the roll of Super Chicken. It will be interesting to see how they manage to recoup their costs with this erudite piece of true Fluff-Crap. So, to spare you the two hours of your life that this production will totally fucking rob you off.... *SPOILER ALERT*... Spiderman, Spiderman, does whatever a spider can, spins a web, anysize, catches thieves just like flies Look out! Here comes the spiderman.

DATELINE: WHAMMING INTO SNAPPY SNAPS – That’s what George Michael was done while he was pissed and stoned and behind the wheel. The Wham! star drove his car into a photo shop. Other than the fact that he has the skills of a great prophet when it comes to naming his group, what the fuck is this doing on the news? A star? Drunk, stoned, driving? In possession of contraband? Oh My God what is this world coming to? I am totally shocked... well, not really, but since every media outlet in the world covered this crap, I thought I should as well. You can't have too many venues providing excuses and justification for celebrity bad behavior... well, okay, i don't provide either, but i just fucking love to be on that bandwagon.

DATELINE: HAITI, THE MUSICAL DISASTER – Just what Haiti needs! As the country is still one fucking mess after a disastrous earthquake over six months ago, they now are setting the stage for what will be nothing more than a clusterfuck edition of Haiti’s Got Talent. First Michel Martelly, that diaper-wearing, sometimes kilt-clad singer/dancer has decided he should run as leader of the impoverished, rubble-strewn country because he knows how to help them. His buddy, singer Wyclef Jean, has also made the same decision, and so both names will be on the ballot, along with about 34 others. It’s to be hoped that someone with at least one true qualification has his name in the hat, because the last thing Haiti needs right now is to be used as a fucking pawn in a perverted game of nothing more than Public Relations whoring. The Haitians have been through enough. They deserve something more than an idiot leader parading around on stage wearing a diaper and making farting noises into a microphone.

DATELINE: ALLOWED BACK AT THE GROWN-UP'S TABLE, FOR NOW ANYWAYS -- Kanye West, that bad boy's bad boy, will be allowed to return to the MTV Awards this fall, after his class act performance last year when he stole the microphone away from Taylor Swift to extoll the reasons why Swift should not have won her award... well, okay, he was saying that Beyonce should have won, which is the same fucking thing. It would be the cynical bitch in me that points out once again money will supercede morals, ethics, manners or anything else. First off, there will be no better way to get the ratings for the show to go up than by having this asshole there again, splashing that fact over every fucking tabloid in the world, and baiting viewers to watch and wonder just what asshatted thing he will do this time... and you KNOW he will find something to do because despite his claims of learning humility, he is nothing but a fucking attention whore. Ratings equal money, so there really cannot be one person on the planet even remotely surprised that he will be allowed back or that the media will make a big fucking circus of that announcement. Oh, and it doesn't hurt the pocketbook that he has a new album coming out shortly after the awards. Yup, its all about the fucking money.

DATELINE: STRAYING FROM FLUFF-CRAP BUT BOOKENDING THIS BLOG WITH MORE ASSHATTEDNESS FROM THE LAND OF THE MALE DOUBLE-STANDARD – In Blackpool, England, as in many other communities around the world, there is a war memorial in a park. 32-year-old Wendy Lewis was this week found guilty of ‘outraging public decency’ because she was caught urinating and ‘performing a sex act on a man’ at the memorial. Yes, I fully believe she should be held accountable for this. It’s wrong... there is no discussion there. However, it is incredibly interesting to know that while her name is splattered over international websites for her heinous crime, the person she was performing the sex act with is only referred to as ‘a man’. His name and reputation are fully intact, despite the fact that what he did was equally as wrong as what Wendy Lewis did. One has to wonder what the fuck public office this ‘man’ holds that he is totally fucking immune from carrying his responsibility in the crime.