Music Review - Lady GaGa: "Born This Way"

In many ways Lady GaGa reminds me of M. Night Shyamalamadingdong. When "The Sixth Sense" came out, people--yours truly included--applauded his originality and couldn't wait for the next pile of shit he'd fart out. We were riveted by what twist we'd see next. And as some of us gobbled up "Unbreakable", then "Signs", then "The Village", we began to drop off like flies. Would his biggest twist have been no twist at all? I think so. Lady Gaga could only benefit by taking some notes.

In many ways M. Night Shyamalan reminds me of Lady GaGa. When "The Fame" came out, people--yours truly included--applauded her originality and couldn't wait for the next oozy dance-track she'd poop out of her plastic-lined, rainbow-colored keister. We were riveted by what kind of fucked-up outfit we'd see next. And some of us gobbled up "The Fame Monster", then "Born This Way". That's right. "Born This Way" is Lady GaGa's "Signs". I have not tested if it can also be killed with water.

Some of our old love for Lady GaGa is still in this album. Each beat is poppy and slick, none of the tracks inspiring me to press the skip button. Unfortunately, they don't really inspire much of anything. Don't get me wrong, I found some of "The Fame" to be lacking as well. But that album bore out some damn infectious hits and I don't see any of that here. "Born This Way", the title track, is pretty much a rip-off homage of Madonna's "Express Yourself". I think most people know that and it's actually okay because GaGa does her own thang. It's catchy and listenable, heads and tails above the rest. I really like "Government Hooker", "Heavy Metal Lover", and "Electric Chapel", too, but not quite as much. "Just Dance" from "The Fame" still kicks all of their asses before school and takes their lunch money.

I'd like GaGa to be less daring when comes to costuming and put just as much adventure into her actual music. This album seems determined to showcase Lady GaGa's vocal limitations. She repeats the same words so often you'd think someone taught a parrot to imitate Lady GaGa and it put out this album. Come on, GaGa, you already did this repetitious thing with your last two albums. (Or one and a half if you prefer.) Someone give this woman a meat thesaurus.

There doesn't feel like there's any variety in the sound of this music either. Many of these songs sound like the same damn song with minor differences. She is electro-pop's answer to Nickelback. I wish she had just dialed it back for some of this stuff. You don't have to sing that loud or use a synthesizer all the time. "The Queen" and "Marry The Night" sound like they're going to be something different and then someone decided they needed to be noisy and obnoxious instead.

Thematically, "Born This Way" the album feels superficial. There's religion, fashion, and people being who they are and special and loving themselves or some shit like that. Big whoop. We GET it already: you were BORN THAT WAY. I picture the brainstorm session for this: people, Red One, and GaGa around table that looks like a giant egg covered with purple spots and wondering what words sound cool when repeated by chic gays in teh club.

Finally, that cover's ugly. Why didn't she ask her monsters for help? I've seen fanpages made by fourteen-year-olds edgier-looking than that... back in, like, 1999.

P.S. Stay out of Seinfeld's box.

Average album, average rating. 3 out of 5 acorns.

Book Review: The Heir From Nowhere

Heh, heh, come on, you and I know he came from somewhere. *snort* Straight from the back:

"You don't know me, but I'm having your baby."

Don't you fellas hate it when that happens?

Dominic Pirelli's carefully ordered world falls apart when a female stranger phones with staggering news: an IVF clinic mix-up means she is carrying the baby that he and his late wife dreamed of having! Though he distrusts her motives, Dominic is determined to keep waiflike Angelina Cameron close. Taking her to his luxury home, the hardened tycoon reluctantly begins to admire Angie's strength and gentle beauty as her body swells with the precious life inside her. But when their baby is born, who will have custody of the Pirelli heir?

Both of them, of course. The book can't end any other way!

Firstly, I must applaud this book for being one of several new books by Harlequin where someone with a brain finally decided to have names that don't have "billionaire", "mistress", and "secret baby" in the title. Also, that cover actually looks like how I pictured these people, depicting them in the pool. Yay for having an event that actually happens in the book.

Author Trish Morey has written a romance novel that won't have you plucking out your eyes or, to use a more realistic reaction, throwing the book across the wall in fury. She presents two flawed people who manage to both be kinda likable.

Heroine Angie Cameron is down on her luck. Her rat of a husband is leaving her and taking all of her good shit and half of her home. Angie and her husband used an IVF clinic but her hubby called it the last straw on their strained marriage when the clinic gave Angie the wrong embryo and she decided to have the baby anyway. As we learn later, Angie was once an abortion possibility herself and she doesn't want to deny the baby a right to live. Fair enough. No, but really, whether you're pro-choice or pro-life, you will agree this boner is a total jerkwad. So she contacts the would-be daddy so the baby can live with his or her natural family after entering the world.

Dominic Pirelli is handsome and rich like most of these Harlequin alpha-male bastards. However, he started out poor, living a scant neighborhood or so away from despondent Angie's current location. He has a somewhat tragic past and hopes by making a lot of money, he can help the people he loves. Unfortunately, the poor fellow ends up losing everyone along the way. This chap just can't catch a break. And his outlook doesn't improve when the IVF clinic admits their whoopsie. Yowch.

So when Angie contacts Dom, he thinks "oh no, this chick just wants to sell me my baby back." She looks sick and poor and while he can't fault her for the poor part, the sick is something else. Dom's deceased wife—that's right, the baby-mama's dead—had an eating disorder and died from it. And poor Dom's all "sigh, not this shit again."

Through a sequence of events, Dom gets to know her little by little and decides his best course of action is for his baby to grow somewhere safe: his giant-ass beach-side mansion. Hey, sounds good to me. So he moves Angie in and the whole growing-closer-together thing begins.

This book never felt like it had a slow spot and every part serves a purpose whether it be in the over-all plot or establishing the characters in the book. Dom's PA Simone seemed a little useless but that was only because I initially expected her to have a slightly larger role in the book. I actually wouldn't mind if she appeared in an equally superfulous role in several different Trish Morey books. Kinda like that Richard Scarry book "Postman Pig and His Busy Neighbors" where you had to look for that pickle in each picture. Ms. Morey, make Simone your pickle!

All in all, this book didn't really stay with me but it was an enjoyable read. Not too much drama and two leads who seemed to be decent people. Because I would've liked a slightly bigger moment to come along and complete the book—we were a little luke-warm here—I'm taking off a tiny sliver of acorn. Also calling the kid AC-DC wasn't cool. That poor child.

4.75 out 5 acorns. ¾

Book Review: The Eleventh Son

From book description:

On one of his missions, Xiao (the Eleventh Son, known as the Great Bandit) meets Shen, the fairest woman in the martial world. By the will of fate, he rescues Shen several times, which plants the seed of love in both of them. However, Shen is married to a rich young man who is also an outstanding martial artist. As if things were not complicated enough, Xiao has his own secret admirer, Feng, an attractive swordswoman with a quick temper.

Xiao is drawn into a messy fight for a legendary saber, the Deer Carver, and is accused of stealing it. Xiao finds out that the person who has set him up is a mysterious young man with an angel’s face and a devil’s heart. Before he can pursue any further, Shen’s grandmother is murdered, and Xiao is named the killer. It appears that things are spinning out of control…

"The Eleventh Son" is a wuxia novel written by prolific Chinese novelist Gu Long, who wrote over sixty novels before dying at age 48 in 1985 from too much drinky-drinky. To my knowledge, "The Eleventh Son" is the only one officially translated into English. For those of you unfamiliar with the wuxia genre, wuxia stories are based in the times of long ago, chronicling the adventures of Chinese martial artists bound by honor and full of secret fighting styles and techniques. My usual example when explaining wuxia is to say wuxia stories are the book version of the movie "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon", which in turn based on the fourth book of the Crane-Iron wuxia series by Wang Dulu. [And surprise-surprise, it's not published in English either.]

"The Eleventh Son" has a great start, the story opening with the reader meeting Feng. Feng Seniang is beautiful, over-30, bitchy and awesome. As much as I wish the entire story were about her, she only features in the beginning and the end of the story. Boo hoo. Feng's BFF is Xiao Shiyi Lang, the titular eleventh son whose eleventhness doesn't figure squat except for the sad fact that the other ten are dead and he's oh-so-ronery. Xiao is a sinfully-clever, notorious bandit who has the misfortune of being the scapegoat of the so-called ideal gentlemen. It's not the name of their gang or anything, it's basically a group of characters in the story thought to be honorable and chivalrous. Except they're all nasty rats.

Xiao and Feng begin a mini-quest of sorts for a powerful blade called the Deer Carver, which is being escorted to Shen Manor with the aim of getting an owner. Xiao is blamed for the theft of the Deer Carver and even though he and Feng managed to steal it before the final destination, the one they swiped was an obvious cheap copy. A plot is afoot. It is later that Xiao ends up finding the person who has the real Deer Carver, a fiendish character named Little Mister. Little Mister passes for a scampish, adolescent boy but is actually a beautiful woman and never bothers to change a disguise or anything. She just manages to pass for both and dudes lust for her and shit. Yeah, I'm not touching that one.

Xiao also manages to meet Shen Bijun, a woman otherwise known the prettiest lil' piece in the martial arts world. Shen is married to Lian Chengbi, a man who is handsome, refined, reknowned, wealthy, and about as much fun as a box of paperclips. Xiao is constantly rescuing Shen and the two of them eventually form a couple destined to an ill-fated love. You will literally shake your fist as poor Shen is put through hell, with people she thought she could trust betraying her left and right. She in turn betrays Xiao more than once and you really feel for the poor guy. Although Shen's grandmother does indeed die and Xiao is blamed for it, it's really the least of their problems.

Despite the depth their feelings grow to, these two break each other's hearts again and again. The love story here is poignant and pretty much rivals any Harlequin I've ever reviewed here, making it ironic that this is also my first non-Harlequin review. The story is strong and sorrowful. That's no spoiler, you know how this will likely end. Though there is some unintentional lulz at Shen telling Lian she will not be unfaithful over and over again. Come on, lady, you're in love with another man. It really doesn't get worse than that.

At under four hundred pages, "The Eleventh Son" is a brisk read and a great introduction to wuxia for the uninitiated. It is translated by Rebecca S. Tai and is published by Homa & Sekey Books. I give it my highest recommendation.

5 acorns out of 5.

Book Review: Stay Through the Night

Liam Jameson is a world-famous writer of paranormal thrillers. But fame has its price, and now Liam lives reclusively on a remote Scottish island. Then Rosa Chantry knocks on his door and throws his world upside down. His desire for her is strong, but his conviction that he cannot satisfy a woman is stronger. But Rosa is persistent, and so is Liam's need for her. She is determined to ease his fear that the past has robbed him of his power as a man...

Okay, so this book's a bit older [from 2006] as I tend to try to review the more recent fare. I stumbled upon it and I figure I may as well blog about it since I haven't been reading all that many Harlequins of late. It's by Anne Mather, who also wrote "The Greek Tycoon's Pregnant Wife" which did make my Favorites list so I was open to reading another one.

Liam Jameson is a male Anne Rice who was attacked by some bat-shit fan who apparently scarred him everywhere but on his hot face. Rosa is an ignorant, too-thin school-teacher with flame-red hair, cheated on by her slimy ex-husband Colin and easily given to wild goose-chases due to her whining mother who favors Rosa's younger sister Sophie. Loose, spoiled Sophie is a Jameson fan and when she disappears, Rosa is pressured into following a noodle-limp lead straight to Jameson's castle.

I usually like the idea of a marred hero but I got the feeling Liam fell under the whole "hey, I'm scarred but not scarred enough". Although this book cover is less dumb than the usual lot of them, that dude in the picture doesn't have a single mark on him. Liam wears long-sleeved shit because he doesn't want anyone to see his scarred arms, why don't these damn covers ever get things right? [Also, he looks like he's biting the heroine but I'll just leave that as being purposeful since brother there writes wamper novels.]

I found it odd that Liam has some real insecurities about being physically cut up yet the heroine's all caught up with his good-looking face and gorgeous eyes. I know these sorts of books are a fantasy but it comes off a bit of a contradiction, no? Especially when he's hesitant about showing her his body and she's all "ITZ OK I LUV U NO MATTER WUT" about it. Doubt you'd be saying that if he had a donkey's face. While having Rosa have to actually go through more of an acceptance of Liam's scars would have been good, I'll just assume the word limit for the book is why we had to kinda rush on through that.

Liam, at least, isn't the standard romance alpha hero who jerks-jerks-jerks all over the place, calls the woman a whore, and then does three to four sentences of groveling and bad explanations before expecting to be taken back. Liam is just understandably grumpy about having his privacy potentially invaded, generally jaded by women after being jilted by his fiancee, and confused about his attraction to a woman he barely knows. I found him amusing and refreshing.

At least once, "virgin" is used like an insult. Which is funny because, really, does the hero ever want the heroine to be a slutty tramp? It's kinda, like, which would you prefer, dude? In this instance, the jokes on Liam when he finds out Rosa is a divorcee who left a five-year marriage and not the untouched tenderfoot that usually stars in these sorts of stories. Yay. Finally, a story with a woman in it instead of some daydreaming little girl. Anne Mather, I could hug you.

While the book does place Liam and Rosa at odds at times, as what must happen in most romances, it is the tension of two insecure people. It is not done with bile or some action that might overwise be unforgivable like an affair or a hidden baby or stealing daddy's company. The result is that it never made me want to bang my head on the keyboard and made this book a very nice read.

4.5 acorns out of 5. ½

Book Review: Gray Quinn's Baby

Magenta knows having a new employer might be tricky. But she isn't expecting the old-fashioned ruthlessness of Gray Quinn! However, plucky Magenta is up for the challenge, and tries to beat the distractingly gorgeous Quinn at his own game…. Quinn is no New Man—

Bwuh? "New Man"? Is that some sort of Britishism?

—he wants temptingly innocent Magenta in his bedroom, not the boardroom. But he can make her no promises. He'll give her the night of her life, but he might not be there when she wakes up…. And he definitely doesn't want her taking maternity leave!

Firstly, lol @ that cover. These covers never cease to slay me. The heroine looks like an alien with that long neck and gangly arm and the dude's all squinty like Brenden Fraser and Gilbert Gottfried's long-lost love-child. That being said, I am glad she has dark hair instead of those covers where the brunette heroine magically becomes blonde.

Magenta Steele—yes, I too chuckled at that name—works in Steele Design which is daddy's company though I couldn't be bothered to really learn what she does besides put together "campaigns", have themed office parties, and be the HEEEEEART of the office whatever the hell that tripe means. She meets a smokin' hot biker in the parking lot. This isn't a spoiler, it's Gray Quinn. You know it's Gray Quinn, I know it's Gray Quinn. It's Gray Quinn. Why he's all playing bad boy on a bike in the parking lot when he's, like, thirty-two years old, instead of riding in a car like a normal reclusive rich bloke who just acquired said company is anybody's guess. That's just how Gray Quinn rolls. Do not question the Quinn.

Anyway, for whatever reason Quinn's smitten with Magenta. I couldn't tell you why. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be able to. Maybe I didn't read closely enough. Maybe Magenta in her gym clothes is just that damn sexy. Perhaps he just likes the bitchy ones and that ain't no crime. He ends up giving her a ride back to her place and all is well. Until Chapter Four.

Chapter Four is the uh-oh chapter. This is the chapter of a perfectly good book where you kinda know something's going wrong but you go into denial and read on anyway in the hopes it will not come to pass. There had already been mention of the sixties hammered in earlier on and I had a sinking feeling it may lead somewhere but I couldn't have imagined this: the heroine gets all dressed up like she's in the sixties, goes to sleep in her office, AND WAKES UP IN THE EFFIN' SIXTIES AND STAYS THERE FOR OVER TEN CHAPTERS.

While I commend this twist on the tried and true formula, I would not have picked up the book if I knew this was gonna happen because now Magenta is IN A DREEEEEEEM and can't wake up. Worse, she's in a sexist dream where all the chicks work the typing pool and get the mens coffee. I tried trudging through it all but this stuff just isn't my bag. Gray Quinn comes in and he's the boss, of course, and they form a relationship, do it, and she ends up with a DREEEEEM baby. BWUUUH? HAHAHA. No, really.

Magenta then wakes up in the present missing her dreeeeem baby but she and Quinn—perhaps feeling rushed that they only have about three chapters to tidy it all together—pretty much pick up where they left off in the dream. There's not much mention as to how she knows who he is (for he never introduced himself in reality) and they interact like old lovers. He takes her home, feeds her, and she begins obsessing that things are happening in reality like they did in the dream. She comes off as "hey, crazy lady" but Quinn—despite voicing some protest—seems relatively cool with it. This leads me to believe he rode that motorcyle too many times with his visor up and all of them dead flies choked his brain stem. At the end, Magenta's pregnant and la-dee-dah everything's Cheerios.

MEH. This made me kinda sad, I do admit. The writing itself is really top-notch and the hero is really good. I guess it was disappointing to start out with a hero like Gray Quinn and feel like we didn't see too much of the REAL Quinn but instead had to settle for DREEEEM Quinn for the majority of the book. The beginning seemed to set itself up for an interesting meeting when Magenta discovers the biker in the parking lot is the new owner of her father's business, but that tension is never hit upon. And although the parallel is obvious that Dream Quinn and Real Quinn are likely exactly alike, it doesn't change that one was still a sixties dream and a product of his own "era" and real interactions would have made a tastier book. It doesn't help that I'm no fan of the sixties either and I just wanted the dream sequence to GO AWAY. I have to wonder if it might've for a while as I got to the point where I just had to scan over the dream as I found it tiresome.

As for Magenta Steele herself, the name sounds pornish and she came through as being sheltered and entitlement-minded. Yeah, her daddy's a sexist pig, but why should Magenta expect to get a company for free? Go work your ass off like Gray Quinn did and get your own company to run, woman. I would like to have been given a reason to like Magenta as much as Quinn appears to. Is it her body, her eyes, her razor sharp wit, her caring heart, her creativity? I DUNNO. If she was even described as being anything other than a "good-looking woman", which could really be ANYTHING, I've completely forgotten. Magenta seems made to be generic so the reader can relate to her, but this quality made her kinda unlikable to me.

Because of the length of the dream, the ending felt rushed despite being about three chapters long. It also turns the focus on Magenta's lost dreeeem baby half-way through, which would've been a more enjoyable concept with a little more time. As Harlequin/Mills & Boon have started doing two-part books, this one probably could've focused on the dream in the first one and taken us back to reality in the second.

As it is, I'm only docking it an acorn for my own enjoyment value. As I said, this is well-written and you won't be pulling your hair out even if you don't dig it. Someone else will love this book, I just know it. If you have a hankering for a book that takes you into a sixties dream sequence for the majority of it, this is the one for you. As for me, I'd rather just read an older Harlequin than be taken there by a newer one.

4 acorns out of 5.

Google honors Dr. King with hopscotch doodle. LOL HUH?

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking. What problem could this cantankerous bitch possibly have with a Google graphic meant to honor Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.? IT HAS NO MARTIN LUTHER KING JR.

Now I realize it promotes his message and blah blah blah, but this dude was a prominent civil rights activist that was fucking assassinated. Can't we have his picture on goddamn Google for a single day? We have nearly all of February to have retarded inter-racial hopscotch graphics. Even Pac-Man got his picture on the front page for his anniversary but Google can't put an effin' picture of Rev. Dr. King? What's more, it's ALREADY GONE. Hell, Pac-Man even got the whole week. Congratulations on being Eastern time, Google, while the rest of the country is behind and STILL IN OBSERVANCE of MLK Day. F A I L.

I Answer Other People's Letters #5010611

Today’s Victim: Dear Abby [1/06/10] Some of the following shit snipped for useless crap:

TAKING ILLICIT PHOTOS COULD LAND GIRL IN LEGAL HOT WATER

DEAR ABBY: I would like to share some important information with "Don't Want to Lose Him in the U.S.A." (Nov. 10). She's the young lady who is being pressured by her boyfriend to take photos of her classmates in the girls' locker room. The students at the high school where I teach recently attended a program on Internet and online safety. One of the things that really surprised them was learning cell phone calls don't just go from one phone to another. .... All sent messages and photos are stored on the provider's server. This means pictures deleted from the phone are never really deleted -- and text messages and photos never go away. .... "Don't Want to Lose Him" needs to clearly understand she might be prosecuted for producing, distributing and possessing child pornography. -- A HIGH SCHOOL TEACHER IN CHURCHVILLE, VA.

Because if it's not a deterrent that she'd be the sidekick of a gross, perverted creep, the law surely will be. HO HO. Young people these days DON'T EFFIN' CARE, dumbass. I mean, she named her letter "Don't Want to Lose Him". You know where her priorities lie.

DEAR ABBY: Refusing to take the photos, but keeping it quiet, is not enough. I think "Don't Want to Lose Him" should make copies of your column and paste them on every locker to warn all the girls they are at risk -- even when they think they have privacy. She should also tell the principal, who may be able to provide extra protection. -- SHEILA IN GIG HARBOR, WASH.

If there's anything youngins like to do these days, it's TO READ AND FOLLOW DEAR ABBY. LOL RLY? A copy of an advice column on some kid's locker has about as much impact as a copy of The Watchtower wedged in my porch door. And what makes you think the principal gives a shit? Or that he'd even listen. Nice try. What are you? Eighty? For the record, there's never real privacy in the flippin' locker room.

DEAR ABBY: I think the issue of that young woman's low self-esteem should be addressed. Her boyfriend is holding her hostage to his wishes and desires, and will probably always do so if she continues to stay with him. It's important that "Don't Want to Lose Him" learns to love the principled, intelligent person she already is and continue to stand up for herself. Eventually, someone will appreciate her good qualities and she won't have to settle for less than she deserves. -- BEEN THERE IN ARIZONA

How is she "intelligent" considering the loser she ended up with? Especially since she doesn't want to looo~ooose him? GAG!

DEAR ABBY: "Don't Want to Lose Him" should report this to a trusted adult or school counselor. At the very least, this girl needs to know she will be doing a great service if she lets the other girls know so they can be on the lookout for someone sneaking a camera or cell phone into their locker room. She could also use some support and affection that doesn't come from a manipulative, self-serving "boyfriend." -- LISA IN SAN RAFAEL, CALIF.

School counselors are a fucking joke. You can see how they've helped me. And if she tells the other girls, I guarantee they're all gonna be on the look out for HER sneaking in a camera.

DEAR ABBY: I am a mental health professional. What "Don't Want to Lose Him" is being pressed to do is called "sexting," and it is a criminal offense in almost every state in the U.S. The young lady and whoever receives and distributes those photos could be convicted of a felony, serve prison time and live the rest of [BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH WALL OF TEXT.] -- JACQUELINE IN GIBSONIA, PA.

Congratulations on having a degree in IT'S FUCKING OBVIOUS. I hope you at least don't owe much in student loans. Really though, I love how old people define shit for the rest of us as if they discovered it first. Except I'm fairly certain sexting would be the "Lose Him" girl sending pics of herself to her creepo boyfriend.

Who the fuck cares what the definition is or the law is in this instance? This poor girl is lonely and has never been loved before. And here's this tool playing with her heart and trying to recruit her to be his skeezy voyeur cam or ELSE. Why is no one telling this chick to love and respect herself? Why has no one asked how "Lose Him" would feel if she found out one of the other girls snapped a pic of her ass and spread it all over school? Or why didn't anyone ask her if she really doesn't like having teeth that much because some of those high school chicks would totally knock them out if they found out those kinds of pics had been taken of them?

***BONUS ROUND!!***
From Dear Abby [1/03/11]:

DEAR ABBY: I became a grandmother a year ago. My son told me I have to join a social networking site if I want information about, or to see pictures of, my grandson. He claims I can find out all I need to know on his profile page. Abby, I'm not asking for pictures to be sent in the mail, nor am I requesting constant calls about what is taking place. I'm not completely computer illiterate, but I do have an aversion to being grouped with everyone else. I am his mother, but I don't feel as though he thinks of me as someone special. Am I totally out of touch with today's technology? -- OLD-FASHIONED GRANDMA IN MONTANA

Dear Granny,

If it's any solace, your letter made me seriously fucking mad. If I knew your son, I'd give a kick in the balls for you. Your son is what is known as a technology whore. He is part of the mostly middle-class segment of selfish, spoiled America with too much goddamn time on their hands. These people are so in love with iPhones and Facebook that anyone who doesn't conform to it is inconvenient. "How dare you not answer my text to my convenience! How dare you actually make me visit you and talk to you to communicate!" They take pictures of every other meal they eat and post song lyrics as a status at least five times a week. No, you are not old fashion for not wanting to join his [likely] crappy network of fellow peons.

If I were you, I would call him anyway to initiate conversation. Given the a-hole your son is, he'll probably talk to you while driving using his Bluetooth, but hey, make that technology work for YOU and not him. I would also let him know you can't join his profile thingy because "computers are just too dern hard" and you're too confused by that "FaceSpace doohickey". As an older person, make your age work for you! You can get away with it! What is he gonna do: get angry? Only a total dickwad would yell at a granny for not using a computer "correctly". If you're long distance, try reaching out to his wife or any other relative nearby and see if they can score you pics of your grandson that Mr. Pisspants can't be magnanimous enough to send to you.

Disney's Aladdin: Not as Good as I Remember It.

"The starving people of Agrabah can't eat your lousy flowers!"
Firstly, I've LOVED this movie for years. I first saw it when I was twelve, bought the soundtrack on tape, and would sing to all the songs and shit. I wanted to Netflix it recently. It's not available on Netflix as of this blogging and hasn't been for a while. Boo hoo. So I ended up borrowing a VHS, popped it in, and BAM. Upon viewing it for the first time in about ten or so years, there're so many things wrong with it. Now I'm hardly gonna declare this flick a POS. It's not. The voice work is good, the visuals are lovely, the songs are still catchy. Here's a random list of rants that kinda knock this movie down a notch. At least where I'M concerned:

1. Cut off my ear if you don't like my face, but I miss that part. Of all of the concessions for Disney to make to the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee. The edited song is retarded. The heat is immense? It's immense in Arizona, too, but no one wants to sing a frickin song about it. I mean, they put in new lyrics but we still have some fat red-shirt telling Jafar how he had to "slit a few throats". I can live without an ear, but I kinda need my throat. It's very fucking inconsistent. And as far as unfair stereotyping is concerned, wording is a lesser offense when Aladdin, Jasmine, the Genie, and the Sultan are all as Anglicized as possible but Jafar and everyone else are "are dark-skinned, swarthy and villainous-cruel palace guards or greedy merchants with Arabic accents and grotesque facial features." I remember being bothered by that crap when I was a kid. Most offensive of all? Not enough hot Arab men. Come on now!

2. On that note, are there ANY Arab people in this film? That shit's just wrong. Robin Williams doing an Arab accent in absence of real Arabs anywhere in the flick just makes the entire room suddenly uncomfortable.

3. What the heck does this movie have to do with the story of Aladdin? We have a dude named Aladdin, a lamp, and a genie and that's pretty much where the similarities end.

4. Robin Williams is annoying as fuck. Some of you are all "well, no shit", but he honestly never annoyed me before, believe it or not. I found myself wanting to reach into the TV and strangle him. When someone comes off more annoying than Gilbert Gottfried in under a minute, there's a serious problem.

5. Horrible lessons. Such as...

* It's okay to steal what you don't got… as long as you share the loot. Aladdin can steal from hard-working folks because he's so damn hungry. In fact, he happily sings and dances about it. Jasmine can steal an apple to feed a child. They are good-looking and heroes and suffer no consequences other than getting some exercise courtesy of the palace guards. If I don't have any bread, it should be well within my rights to endanger someone else's livelihood to feed myself. This is later glamorized when we find out Aladdin's father is KING of THIEVES.

* To fulfill your dreams, you must be rich. Aladdin is poor and free and longs for money while Jasmine is rich and longs for freedom. Earlier in the film, we were meant to believe that, by both of them feeling trapped, they both just saw the grass as being greener on the other side. Instead of Aladdin embracing his freedom and Jasmine learning the responsibilities of her position and wealth, Aladdin just gets rich by association AND EVERYTHING IS ALL BETTER.

* It's okay to lie as long as you tell the truth later. Um, NO IT'S NOT.

6. The Sultan was so damn attached to adhering to the stupid law and then just changes his mind in the end. The fuck? Why'd they even bother making this a plot device? It's like they didn't make the Sultan bat-shit crazy enough and needed to prove in the end that he'd finally snapped. At least adherence to the law meant that he respected traditions. If he didn't like the law and knew the princess didn't, why didn't he change it a long damn time ago?

Also, it would have been hilarious if Jafar wishing himself a genie hadn't backfired like Aladdin thought it would. If genies can be free, then why did turning Jafar into a genie simply not make him a free genie? Even if someone had to wish genies free, the wish could've still effed up and made him a free genie. The wish itself never specified either way.

Music Review - "Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt OST"

The most awesome anime of 2010 was "Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt", hands down. It was awesome, wacky, filthy, stylish, and completely different from a lot of same-old/same-old animu crap that's been chugging its way from overseas. And at thirteen episodes long, it didn't wear out its welcome either. For you poor souls that have never heard of this great fucking show, the premise is that two fallen angel sisters are trying to earn their way back into heaven by destroying ghosts and getting coins (called Heavens) in the process. Panty is a hot-headed nympho while Stocking is a goth-lolita, bondage-loving, sugarholic. They are guided by a bad-ass priest in a 'fro called Garterbelt and sometimes helped by a green, retarded, Gir-rip-off named Chuck.

But this post isn't about the show however much I should've made a post about it. Because one of the raddest things about Panty & Stocking was the electro-dance-house soundtrack. By TCY FORCE produced by M-Flo's ☆Taku Takahashi, featuring TeddyLoid, Hoshina Anniversary, Aimee B., Booty Bronx, and a bevy of other peeps, you don't have to know who the fuck any of them are except for the fact that they make some boss tunes.

My only gripes…? Firstly, the opening music, "Theme for Panty & Stocking" is TV size at thirty-two seconds long. I would have LOVED LOVED LOVED a full-sized song.

Second, the sweet ending tune "Fallen Angel" with the vocals of Aimee B. (who some of you may know from the musically good but otherwise horrid "Devil May Cry" anime) is nearly sixteen minutes long! Why is that a problem? Well, the song itself is nowhere near that long. It's clocks out around four minutes and after about ten minutes of DEAD SPACE, we get a teaser about a possible second season. Come on, now. This ain't a record. People want to rip and keep this music. What was so wrong with having the song at the proper length and the teaser-thingy as its own unlisted track?

Third, it seems like there might be some music that didn't make the soundtrack which is bewy, bewy sad.

But the "bad news" ain't all so bad. The disc is still a great listen over-all. "Theme for Scanty and Knee Socks" wins the grand prize tho'. That track is tiz-zight! Leave it to those demon sisters to steal the show again.

5 acorns.

I Answer Other People's Letters #4010311

Today's Victim: Ask Marilyn [1/2/11]:

Some of my readers’ questions would confound the Oracle of Delphi! Here’s a selection of recent unanswerable ones worth pondering anyway:

In other words, "here's some stupid questions to amuse people because poking fun at morons is one of the perks of being an effin' genius". None of them are really 'unanswerable' as they are incredibly fucking stupid and have obviously been printed in her column for lulz, which makes it terribly sad that people are getting lulz from Parade Magazine.

As I travel the highways, I notice signs that read “Deer Crossing.” How do the deer know to cross at those signs?
—from a reader in Ovilla, Tex.

The sign was put there because the deer were crossing there first, asshat. As you clearly don't possess basic logic, please stop driving before you kill someone.

Why are the Three Musketeers always depicted with swords? Why not muskets?
—Burbank, Calif.

Because it's easier to stab someone than it is to shoot them with a musket. Plus, a sword is cooler. Don't disagree with me, douchebag. A better question would have been why the Musketeers are always last to get eaten when they're so damn tasty.

I play racquetball. The court is a large, enclosed room with a 20-foot-high ceiling and one small door, which players use to enter or exit during warm--ups, etc. Why—although this door is open only briefly—does the ball go through it about 75% of the time?
—Spearfish, S.D.

Because it hates you and I hate you, too.

Why do the eyes of life-size cardboard figures of people appear to watch and follow you as you pass by?
—Tyler, Tex.

Because they are. No, seriously, bro, it's just you. You're a paranoid idiot.

I’ve heard that the Earth’s magnetic poles are reversing. Will the strip in my credit card still work? Will my refrigerator repel my magnets?
—Portland, Maine

Send me your credit card and I'll check it for you.

Why don’t eggs taste like chicken?
—St. Louis, Mo.

Because it never formed into a chicken, fuckface. You're eating an abortion. Or as the rich chickens call them, a ski vacation.

Do I have more of a chance of catching a cold if I’m chewing gum and blowing bubbles? In other words, can airborne germs be caught by my bubble and then ingested after it has deflated and the gum is back in my mouth?
—Saddle Brook, N.J.

No. Why the hell would you think you'd have a better chance catching a cold from germy-air touching your gum than by breathing in the germy-air directly? Germ-ass.

Do you know whether Christopher Columbus brought pickles with him aboard his ships when he explored the New World?
—Cary, N.C.

That was a pickle in his pants? I just thought he was glad to see me! [RUNNER-UP ANSWER: Who fucking cares? That's not even a legitimate question.]

The city of Toledo, Ohio, is urging its residents to lose weight to the tune of one million pounds. With that much weight exiting our planet from such a small location, could it alter the Earth’s orbit around the Sun?
—Swanton, Ohio

Yes. We're all going to die. Especially if geniuses like you have bred. We had fewer and skinnier people on this planet for centuries and you think the orbit's gonna be affected by something like that? Maybe you should be more worried about all of that stupid hurling us into the sun.

In movies, when someone gets out of a car at night, why doesn’t the dome light ever go on?
—Sebring, Fla.

It broke. I broke it. Me so sorry.

I notice that global warming increased after daylight saving time started in 1974. Well, duh! More daylight is going to make the world hotter, isn’t it?
—Altadena, Calif.

Well, duh, making it 11 o'clock instead of 12 o'clock doesn't affect the actual amount of sunlight. People don't control the sun, dork-ass.

If a person on television held up a mirror facing a camera, could someone at home see his reflection in it?
—Colorado Springs, Colo.

I'm going to punch a camera and hope you feel it.