Archive for February, 2013

The Oscars.

Thursday, February 28th, 2013

Normally when award shows roll around, I ignore them and continue my usual watching of whatever crap the glass teat horks at me. (Perhaps a show where people go to a swap meet to exchange taxidermied medical anomalies, like calfs with two heads? Sign me up!) However, this past award season I seemed to get caught up in the excitement of it all and I watched three, count ’em, three let’s-congratulate-ourselves shows from beginning to end – The Golden Globes, The Grammys and The Oscars. The outfits were exactly the same as they are every year, the ladies all posed in the same position with the same half-smile on their face like Mona Lisas who have only been consuming juice and tapeworms for a month, same same same. However, throughout the cloud of who won what and who wore what I saw an article that said, “Nail art is officially dead” and I think I yelled, “The hell it is!” All the nice ladies at the Oscars wore either naked nails or a tasteful pale pink and that’s fine and all, but I loved the new surge of weird creative designs that people had been putting on their fingers and I don’t want to see it go, I don’t! Alas, the party nail, we hardly knew ye. In case you have no idea what I’m talking about, here are some examples. I made them the exact size of the blog entry so you don’t have to click on them, you can just scroll down slowly. Maybe put Boyz II Men’s “It’s So Hard To Say Goodbye” in the background while you do. It completes the experience.

Frankly, I blame Japan. Don’t get mad, I have a reason, I didn’t pick them at random. They took the idea of nail art and went to place that is not okay, not even if you don’t do much with your hands during the day. Their nail stuff made Gail Devers look reasonable, and that woman’s nails were unreasonable.

Again, I made these all blog-sized so you don’t have to click on them, you can just scroll down. If you would like music in the background for this, might I recommend a ten-hour loop of Nyan Cat?

Yeah. Never mind the usual question long-nailed-folk get, “How do you wipe your butt?”, my question is, “How do you do anything? Like, at all?” You ruined simple tasteful nail art for everyone. I hope you’re happy, Japan.

In Oscar news not in any way related to nail art, this happened: Okay, I was not really familiar with Dame Shirley Bassey’s performance style. I mean, I could recognize her extremely distinctive voice anywhere, but I had never seen her sing live previous to the Oscars. I didn’t even know what she looked like. They did a “50 Years of James Bond” thing at the Oscars, and then Shirley came out and scared the crap out of me.


The other day I looked into her history a bit, and that’s not even the scariest she could get. Are you aware of The Beatles song “Something”? It’s a nice, placid, gentle sort of song. Then Shirley got a hold of it, and now I’m afraid again. That woman is terrifying. Super-talented, but terrifying.

I feel like she would hurl a dish at me if I said something that angered her. Yikes.

And that’s my wrap-up on The Oscars.


Thursday, February 21st, 2013

30 Rock is gone. It’s gone. I am so sad. I must now go on the hunt for new and exciting television items. Monday Mornings looks like it’s going to fill my House-abyss. Remember when House was good, like, the first three seasons? Everyone always tells me to watch The Big Bang Theory, but I can’t for a very specific reason. It has a laugh track. There’s nothing wrong with laugh tracks really. They make some people angry because they (the viewer) feel condescended to (“I know where to laugh, I don’t need a signal!”). My problem is different. This is going to sound like a humble-brag, but it’s not. I absorb information aurally very quickly. That’s great and all, but it means I cannot enjoy many things that I think I would. I can’t listen to audiobooks on tape because they talk too slow and I struggle to stay focused. I don’t like NPR for the same reason. I’ve actually looked into buying some kind of software that plays audiobooks at double-speed on my iPod so I can listen to them. Now comedy, I think, is so much about timing, and the half-a-second spent on inserting laughter into a show kills the flow for me. It can be so much snappier without it! Gilmore Girls is a good example of something written at the pace I like bestest and its speed has been commented on numerous times, but it makes complete sense to me. If anyone has any suggestions of brisk, well-written comedies, please let me know, won’t you? Thanks ever so much.

P.S. I hear good things about The New Girl. I will try to overcome my dislike of the twee-ness of Zooey D. and watch it.

Addendum to the P.S. to the whatever: The West Wing is streaming on Netflix (finally) and I started watching it. Golly gosh, that show is good. I don’t give two hoots about politics, but I am engrossed. Engrossed, I tell you! The characters, they are so well-developed. I am super-psyched.

Two things.

Thursday, February 14th, 2013

1. I have discovered a truly delicious combination. You ready? Sweet potato fries and A-1 Steak Sauce. Now you might be thinking, Jessica, what about ketchup? Ketchup is not a good choice because it’s kind of sweet, and sweet potato fries are sweet, and then the whole thing gets too sugary. A-1 has a citrus-like tang to it and it’s far more savory, so it really compliments the fries without overpowering them. The combination of the vinegary spiciness with the neutral starchiness is terrific. My life may never be the same. Try it, I bet you’ll like it.

2. The Internet has coughed up another magical weirdness that I am really getting a kick out of. It’s called The Harlem Shake, and it is odd. Thanks to Know Your Meme I found where it started. There is a song called “Harlem Shake”, it came out over the summer, blah blah blah. Then, three weeks ago, a bunch of guys made this video.

Not especially special, right? I thought so too, but apparently there are now TWELVE THOUSAND different Harlem Shake videos. Three weeks. Twelve thousand. It’s crazypants. The videos have evolved too. Here’s how they work:

1. Person in mask or helmet dances alone. Other people do mundane activities and ignore masked person.

2. Chorus starts.

3. Everyone joins in and dances like lunatics, humping the air and the walls, punching invisible ninjas, etc.

I have chosen some of what I think are the finest examples of this new whatever. I suggest you do what I did, which is watch about one a day because that keeps them fresh. Just copy and paste all the links below and send them in an email to yourself so you can greet each morning with about 30 seconds of complete insanity.

Here’s some Sk8er boys doing it.


Here’s some college students doing it.


Here’s some people named Matt and Kim at their concert doing it.


Here’s the Peanuts Gang doing it.


Here’s the Norwegian Army doing it.


Here is an agency I would kill to work for* named Wieden + Kennedy doing it.


And by far my favorite, here’s a family doing it.


*Not because they do the Harlem Shake, but because the work they do is amazing. Alas, they are based in Portland, so no W+K love for me. Sigh. I must love them from afar.

Things that chap my hide because I am an old grump now. Basically Liz Lemon.

Monday, February 11th, 2013

1. When people say “an historic moment”. I had to hear this over and over again when Obama got elected the first time ’round. Stop it. Stop it right now. You use “a” in front of words that have a consonant sound, and “an” in front of words that have a vowel sound only. OWN. LEE. It doesn’t mean it automatically goes in front of a vowel, just a vowel sound. For example, “eulogy”. Starts with a vowel, but since it has a “yoo” beginning, you say “a eulogy”. What the hell is with the “an” in front of “historic”? HHHHHHHHHHistoric. Unless everybody has a cockney accent and is saying “an ‘istoric moment”, it should be A HISTORIC. YOU HEAR ME, NEWSCASTERS??? “A historic moment.”.

2. When people say, “We are pregnant.” “We” are not pregnant. “We” are expecting a child. “We” have created a new person together. “We” are not pregnant. Only the lady is pregnant. You, my main man, are not pregnant. You are not sharing in the carrying of the baby. You might be doing everything else around the nice lady, like cooking and cleaning and helping her roll over in the middle of the night and rubbing her feet, and I commend you for that, but still, you are not pregnant. Stop saying that.

3. When Jackson Galaxy refers to people as cat guardians, not cat owners. I love Jackson Galaxy and I truly think he is doing work for good, but if I had a cat, I would be its owner. It would be my property. It wouldn’t even be my slave, because slaves actually do stuff like pull carts and build pyramids. Cats just treat you with disdain and poop in a box (which I, the owner, would need to clean). I would not be keeping this precious feline safe until the Gods contact it so it can save the world (guardian), I would just be someone who has a cat (owner). Don’t get me wrong, I would love this cat so hard its forehead would be bald from excessive petting. But I would still be its owner.

Superb Owl 2013.

Thursday, February 7th, 2013

Hey, did everyone enjoy that Superb Owl? I was riveted for, oh, I would say three-quarters of that game, which for me is unheard of. I care not for the American version of rugby. I amused the hell out of my co-workers today when I attempted to describe the game to my parents who are in Israel and therefore were not privy to the goings-on of the NFL. It sounded like this:

Well, it was the Baltimore Ravens, so called because Poe and Baltimore and all that, and the San Francisco 49ers… who are called that for reasons I don’t know. I was rooting for the Ravens because I adore giant crows. Remember those times at the Tower of London when I had a long conversation with those big ole birds? Yeah, so I was rooting for them because you gotta root for somebody. I got to Nya’s house at about five because I wanted to stake out a killer spot on the couch so I could work on my embroidery during the boring bits*. Nessa met me there and our butts became fused to the sofa. I don’t think we got up for two hours, and then we got up in turns so as not to lose our dope couch positions. Anyway, I had an embarrassing moment at the very beginning when the Newtown Chorus and Jennifer Hudson sang “America the Beautiful” and I yelled out, “Hey, I thought Alicia Keyes was gonna sing out national anthem!” Nessa had to point out to me that, ummm, “America the Beautiful” is not our national anthem, never has been. My excuse was someone was singing a sweeping patriotic song and I just defaulted. Not a proud moment in my life. Then Alicia Keyes sang the real national anthem which I decided to honor by getting wings because gosh darnit, I like Alicia Keyes as a person but I do not care for her yell-y singing style. She also sang it as slow as physically possible. Glaciers moved three inches while she belted it out.

Then there was some coin-tossing and some running and hitting and I vaguely paid attention while Ravens annihilated the 49ers. The score was like 26 to 7 or something. I was actually really impressed with the quarterback for the 49ers. He has a name similar to that NSync member, Chris Kirkpatrick, something like that. Anyway, he’s really tall, like 6′ 5″ and he’s slim which is unusual for a quarterback. He was running like crazy, throwing the ball, doing all kinds of stuff. CBS did a whole little special on him, turns out he’s adopted. He had a 4.0 GPA. He’s devoted to his religion. But wait, it gets better. I found out he was also on the Cubs (baseball) and I think he also played basketball really well. HOW super-bummed are his birthparents for giving him up? I mean he’s a magical sporty forest creature beamed down from Mount Olympus, for crying out loud! And he seems very sweet as a person.

So after the first half ended (score a billion to two in favor of Baltimore) Beyonce came out! And sang! And danced! And looked amazing! I must say I am totally content to live in the United States of Beyonce, as it has become since the Inauguration / Super Bowl. I am happy to be a serf in her fiefdom. She performed approximately 3.14 lines of each of her big hits, she wore a black lace doily on her butt, it was wonderful. Then the second half started aaaaaand the lights went out in the stadium. Like, out out. It was dark. Since the game was happening in N’Awlins, Nessa took this opportunity to play the unfortunate clip of Wolf Blitzer saying poorly chosen words. The athletes seemed pretty chill about the whole lights-out thing, they just did stretches and jumpy exercises to keep their limbs… limber. It took fifteen minutes for the lights to get bright enough again, so CBS had a few thousand commercial breaks. Did I mention there was a Doritos commercial with a screaming goat? And a commercial with a bebbeh wolf? Combine that with the Clydedales in the Budweiser ads and it was a good year for me. The lights came back on, and then the craziest thing happened. A player, from the Ravens I think, got the ball in one endzone and RAN ALL THE WAY TO THE OTHER ENDZONE. No one tripped him, no one thought to trip him, it was very odd. Then the 49ers woke up and came to and got a bunch of touchdowns and the game got pretty close near the end. Finally it ended and the Ravens won and one of the players made a snow angel in the confetti on the field. I got three-quarters of a leaf embroidered and ate a pile of seven-layer dip, so I was happy. It was a good game all around.

*Photographic proof.