Degrassi: Fucking Brilliant

The Degrassi kids are all growed up...it seems like just yesterday Manny was marching around the hallways with her thong halfway up her ass, Emma was contracting venereal diseases, and J.T. (RIP) was selling prescription drugs to make rent money. Tonight's episode was as badass as I knew it would be...a two-parter that ends with Paige (now at Banting. I guess it's like the Harvard of Canada) crumbling under the pressures of Marketing 101 and (in a tense, dramatic scene) throwing all her books in a trashcan and setting them on fire (ahh...so that's why they don't allow candles in dorm rooms...) What comes next is anybody's guess. I've got my money on a complete and total mental breakdown where she goes lesbian again and quits school to become a full-time drug addict and prostitute. Ah, Paige Michaelchuck....what will you do next? Imagine your poor parents, having to cope with a gay son AND a gay daughter all at once. Do I smell suicide attempt? Homicide? God, it could be anything...that's the innate brilliance, you see?

And Marco and Paige's brother, shacking up together and playing "roommate" for their parents during Thanksgiving dinner?! I mean, my God, how rife with symbolism! I wonder what Ellie is up to...I wish they'd focused more on her than that Christian holier-than-thou bitch Darcy and her stupid love interest Peter with his faggy Saab convertible mommy and daddy bought him (the very car he used to get street cred last season by entering it in drag races...) Ugh.

Anyway, you see how carried away I tend to get with this stuff. Sometimes I ask myself if there was life before Degrassi, and I must concede that no, there most certainly wasn't. At least, not life as I have come to know and love it.

Paris Hilton does not do drugs.

I didn't watch Paris' interview on Larry King. In fact, I would rather lick a destitute monkey's ballsack than have to look at her horse-face ever again--but this is just too good. So, I guess Larry asked her if she does drugs, and her answer (big suprise) was "no." Who is she kidding? That's like someone asking Tom Cruise if he's ever entertained any gay fantasies and him just looking at you with a straight face and saying, "absolutely not." Who are these people? Do they think we're amoebas or something? Really, its getting a little insulting. So, anyway, you might just assume that someone like Paris would be of the cokewhore variety, but it turns out she's just a good old stoner like the rest of us. It doesn't make me like her any more. But it doesn't make me NOT like her any more either. So I guess...well-played, Paris?

You could be my chulo...

I've been having a little too much fun with Youtube lately...but can you blame me? I mean, finally, there's a public medium for people who do shit like this to share their gift with the world:

Seriously, this is the coolest thing I've ever seen. It kind of makes me just want to lie down and shoot myself in the face. What's the point in even trying when you have to compete against people this fucking brilliant?

What the hell is up with Beyonce's "Get me bodied" video?

I just watched this on MTV2, then became disoriented and ended up in the garage with egg beaters, a roll of tape, and a copy of The Mighty Ducks on VHS. What the fuck is going on?

Stuff I want:

I want this dress:

Incidentally, I'd also like to rip off Penelope Cruz' scalp and sew it to my head. I've got the hair envy real bad, and this picture is just taunting me. That volume...that shine...that touchable softness....grrrrrrr.

Three days until the most go-therest season of Degrassi ever...

Degrassi is the best show on TV. Period. Trying to argue differently is like trying to argue that Tom Cruise is straight--there's just no evidence to support it.

Here are the top 10 reasons why Degrassi is the best show ever made (and why I'm so excited for Friday's episode):

1. It goes there
2. It's Canadian
3. It's been on since 1987 and still has some of the original cast members
4. It deals with way important teenager issues--like the clap and manorexia
5. Jay and Silent Bob are huge fans (so huge, that in season 4 they're on the show playing themselves)
6. It's totally multicultural
7. All the episodes are named after 80s songs (West End Girls, Eye of the Tiger, e.g.)
8. It tackles social issues America doesn't have the balls to touch (A two-parter from season three called "Accidents Will Happen" was not aired in the US at all because it dealt candidly with abortion)
9. It's totally explosive.
10. God said so.

If you have never watched Degrassi, then you have never experienced true happiness and I pity you. If you have, get ready baby, because this season is going to be more explosive than ever!

Degrassi's new episodes start Friday, June 29th at 8pm. Go www.the-n.com for more Degrassi stuff.

Jennifer Aniston is really boring...

It continues to amaze me how often Jennifer gets props for her "style" sense. I think she's worn some variation of the exact same outfit like, 6,000 times. Not true! You might say. There was the time she wore that black dress with the straight hair....and that time she wore that other black dress with the straight hair...and the time...okay, you win.

Looking back, one is struck by the dizzying array of sameness:









She takes about as many fashion risks as my grandmother, only my grandmother at least wears color on bingo night and is known to occasionally rock holiday-themed sweaters. I'd rather count ceiling tiles in the office than have to stare at her blandness for too long.

Hot Jam of the Week: Lil' Mama "Lipgloss"

Finally, a song worthy of usurping Kelis' "Bossy" as my $3 downloaded ringtone of choice (I've had that song for ages....I think if I hear the lyrics "I'm the first girl to scream on the track/I switched up the beat of the drum/that's right, I brought all the boys to the yard/and that's right, I'm the one that's tattoeed on his arm.." one more time, I'm probably going to go completely ballistic and kill everyone around me with nothing more than a blunt object and some rage. No, I'm just kidding. I still want to listen to it like, a bajillion more times.)




The video is awesome, too. (Kind of like a pop-y, pseudo hip-hopped out version of Saved By the Bell... only with dancing. And good music. And black people.) But there's something about her face that makes her look like a 41 year-old trapped in a 16-year-old's body. It kinda creeps me out. If she were to corner me in a dark alley, I'd probably punch her in the face and run.

Angelina Jolie looks like a bobble-head doll

Okay, Angie is hot. I'm not here to dispute that. A six-month-old blind baby could tell that she's hot. She's just hot. But I'm wondering what her rationale could be for getting so positively gaunt that her head actually just seems to be getting larger... At this point, I'm not even noticing how skinny her arms or legs look, I'm just thinking, "Wow, has her head always been that big? Her forehead? And my god, look at those teeth. They're HUGE."

If god had had the heart to bless me with an ample busom and curves that could end wars and cure sick children, you can bet your ass I wouldn't be fucking it all up like she is. Eat something woman! Don't you and Brad want to have like, 14 kids or something? I'd be surprised if you were even fertile in the state you're in. It is positively tragic. And that vein that runs up your forehead every time you smile is starting to scare me too. My prescription is a month of Big Macs and Whopper Jrs, no diet coke allowed. No vegetables allowed, either. Just red meat and processed white bread. Oh, and cheese. Lots and lots of cheese.

Paris won't get her million dollar interview after all...

...thus my faith in God Almighty has been restored.

Rob and Big is the best show ever in the history of the whole entire universe!

At last, something to fill the tremendous void left in my soul by the passing of the first season of I Love New York. This show is so brilliant, it makes Stephen Hawking look like a fourth-grader with a learning disability. The formula goes something like this:

a little white dude (Rob) who is presumably famous for something, although I have no idea what (opera? volunteer work? transcendental meditation?) + a big, walleyed black bodyguard from the Dirty Dirty (Big) +a deadbeat "cousin" who sits at home all day smoking pot (presumably) and playing video games + a mini-horse with an attitude problem, and finally, a cute little bulldog= THE BEST HALF HOUR OF TELEVISION IN ALL OF HISTORY.

Seriously. I don't know how they do it. Who comes up with this stuff? Whoever they are, they're so fucking smart it's almost a shame we don't have them step in and run the country. But then they might not have the time to come up with golden plotlines like, "Big reinvigorates his male stripping career with a wig and a velour tracksuit." I don't think we could risk the integrity of our television programming, even if these dudes were doing something like, "saving the world from terrorism." It would upset the cosmic balance. God, we are so lucky to live in America.

Paris gets $1 mil for a post-slammer interview; my head officially explodes

Okay.....whoa......deep breath. It's just Paris Hilton. Paris Hilton getting paid 1 million dollars to spend 23 days in a minimum security white-collar resort prison. What makes me so angry about that? People have done worse things. There was...Hitler. Yeah, Hitler was a much bigger asshole than Paris. And there was...um.....oh, well I can't think of anyone in history who presents a more despicable example of humanity than Paris Hilton. So I guess....you win this round, Paris. But just you wait. Your time will come. We will tire of you. You will get older....saggier....your feet (seemingly impossibly) will become even bigger. Your hair will thin. You will retreat to Boca Raton, Florida where you will spend your final days alternating between fits of "Where did all the papparazzi go?" to "Oh my God, what is that shriveled, leathery-skinned troll doing in my room...!" and then you'll realize that you're looking in a mirror. And I will be there to see that day. And I will laugh. It will be a cackling, dry, old lady laugh that will ring in your ears and keep you from sleeping at night. I can be really creepy when I want to.

Getting pregnant is the new black...

As in, everyone who's anyone is doing it: Britney, Katie Holmes, Salma Hayek, Naomi Watts, Christina Aguilera, and now, horror of all horrors, perhaps even Nicole Richie?! Christ, these people act like having a child is about as complicated as buying a coffee table. I'd love to see the look on Nicole Richie's face when she finds out the manspawn that currently may or may not be occupying her womb is going to live for like, 70 years and need to be cared for. As in like, fed. Clothed. Watered. Maybe even coddled now and then. It will poop. And cry. A lot. I bet you she hasn't even thought about any of this. Like, in her head she's going, "okay, cool, I'm just going to get pregnant long enough for this whole DUI charge-thingy to blow over, then I'm gonna like, suck it out with a Turkey baster...or wait, maybe I'll have it because I really would look sooooo cute all barefoot and pregnant, and as much as I loathe the thought of gaining enough weight NOT to expose my entire skeletal structure, it will just be another opportunity to prove to the world that I'm like, so not anorexic. I'm pregnant for chrissake! How can a pregnant chick be anorexic?! It's like, impossible!! Then I can have it and give it to Angelina Jolie or whatever...yeah, that's right...whatever..."
Sound logic, sweetheart, but first of all, I seriously doubt that Brangelina will be interested in adopting a child that is 3/4 white, and second of all, the chances of you surviving a pregnancy are something like my chances of getting a hot date with Gael Garcia Bernal that ends in me licking whipped cream from his nipples. As in, like, zilch.
And as for the rest of you wenches, I don't know what to say. A baby is not a maltipoo you can carry around as an accessory and then throw away when you tire of it and decide that teacup chihuahuas are more "your thing." And besides, wearing black is much more slimming than being pregnant. Trust me.
Note: ultra-flattering picture of Nicole comes courtesy of celebitchy.com

Another unfortunate-looking July cover

It's those geniouses over at Elle Magazine who are responsible for this abomination. I suppose I should cut them a little slack, since the word on the street is that they're having trouble er, retaining staff these days or something like that. Go ask Jezebel.com. So, I don't know about you but I'm actually beginning to miss the faces of supermodels on the covers of magazines, because while it's nice to walk by say, Penelope Cruz's face in the grocery aisle, it's not so nice to walk by and have to see Avril Lavigne's irritating mug staring smugly back at you. It's like, maybe when you run out of real celebrities to put on the cover, try giving Doutzen Kroes or Gemma Ward a call...don't go fishing in the bottom of the barrell.
I fear l've ended up sounding rather mean-spirited, but that is not my intention. Nay, Kelly Clarkson is, by all means, the only worthwhile result of subjecting us to American Idol for all these years (has it been years? It seems like decades)...I think she's an amazing singer. I admit, even I became obsessed with "Since you've been gone" after hearing it--oh God--on an episode of Laguna Beach's second season called "Our Last Prom" where Kristin takes Talan to the prom and LC (that scheming wench) is simultaneously enjoying a heartfelt convo on the beach with none other than Kristin's ex-boyfriend, Steven (Stephen?). God, that was a quality show, although as much as I hate to admit it, it kind of went downhill when Kristin left for college. Oh well, they can't take my memories...
I digress. The whole point of this tirade is that they could hardly have made poor Kelly Clarkson look any worse if they'd tried. She looks like she just got off of a nonstop flight from Japan where she was forced to drink Vodka tonics and deprived of sleep and water. The nude lipstick doesn't help, but then again, neither do the bags under her eyes or the eye makeup that looks like it was applied last week. And the hair is blah. Like, beige wallpaper blah. C'mon guys, this is a pretty young girl who, by your own admission has a "cartoonishly sexy body" and this is the best you could do? How about adding some color to her face instead of washing her out by putting the concealer on her lips instead of under her eyes? I mean, really. Shame on you people!

Someone needs to fire the stylist at W Magazine...

Is it just me, or does Giselle look suspiciously like Jerry Hall circa 1987 on the cover of this month's W?


Not that there's anything wrong with Jerry Hall or the year 1987. It's just not, you know, 1987... so you'd think some attempt would be made to modernize the look. As is, it looks like the movie poster for a period film about the drug-fueled excesses of the late eighties and the toll it took on America's children. I mean, just look at her. That hair is looking permed and teased within an inch of its life. And not gentle body wave permed. Like, authentically fried permed. The kind of hair my cousins used to have with the crunchy bangs that curled under and the big earrings and the loud makeup. Basically, there's A LOT going on here, and although Ms. Bundchen, being the wide-eyed, amazonian freak of nature that she is, can probably pull it off better than anyone else could, I just think she would have looked a lot less drag-queenish with a little less. You know, less of everything. Less hair, less makeup (purple eyeshadow with red lipstick is tricky, to say the least) less jewlery. This looks like Joan Collins' wardrobe from Dynasty came and threw up all over her. And yes, I know W brings a lot of highly "editorial" (read: not wearable) fashion to the table but this is just insane. Someone must stop it. I resist few turns that fashion takes in life, but 80's redux is definitely one of them. It must be avoided at all costs. Like the plague, or antibiotic-resistant Tuberculosis. You see what I'm getting at?

Jay-Z acquires yet another multimillion dollar asset...

Were my comments about Paris Hilton too harsh? Perhaps I only made myself look like a jealous old crone who needs to get a life...As a peace offering (though not to Paris) and to prove that I don't simply have a case of anti-celebrity, I'm going to take a moment to commemorate (and I think I can speak for everyone when I say this) a moment I have waited breathlessly for my whole life: Jay-Z, aka Jigga Man, aka the ugliest man alive that you still are kinda, weirdly attracted to, has gotten engaged to his girlfriend, the incomparable, beautiful, somewhat annoyingly ubiquitous Beyonce. Now, not only will the millionaire rap mogul have the hottest chick in the game wearing his chain (haha, I'm so clever), he'll shell out over $3 million for a lavish ceremony on the Caribbean island of Anguilla which will reportedly include (according to hollywoodrag.com) $300,000 worth of Beluga caviar, lobster and italian truffles, and, of course, the most fabulous wedding dress us mere mortals have ever laid eyes on. Not to mention the ring, which will probably be large enough to clobber a small infant to death. Sources say it will be "the hip-hop wedding to end all hip-hop weddings" (www.exposay.com).

Oh, the glamour of it all. The wonders of people who have so much money they sit around all day and think of creative ways to spend it...Nay, I'm not a celebrity hater. I'm a celebrity-obsessed simpleton like everyone else, maybe even more so. Okay, definitely even more so.

Word on the street is that Miss B's dress is going to be modeled after Princess Diana's, and while I can understand her desire to have the ultimate princess gown, I think she would just look so smashing in a long, lean column dress that highlights her ample derriere. Column dresses are huge for fall, but I think they're also classic enough to avoid the decade-after oh-my-god-what-was-I-thinking syndrome. Here's one that I really like from the consummate professional: Vera Wang.

Paris is officially the most persecuted socialite gazillionaire of all time...

I know, I know. It's all over the place and you don't care anymore and no one could have a funnier (or more superior) take on the whole situation than those geniuses at Jezebel.com, so I shouldn't even try, but I can't help it. This is like, history in the making and it's so not important but admit it, you care because you secretly want to see Paris cry. Yes, you do. So I'm not going to say anything else about it except this: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I hate you, Paris. You are a vapid, self-serving, myopic, fame-whore-monger. And you have really, really big ugly feet. That is all.