Comadres on ..... Beyonce

Sometimes, when you are feeling particularly unfunny and uninspired, your comadres bring it home with their insight and wisdom.

Comadres on: Beyonce - An Academic Discourse

IG: …I think Beyoncé is probably a biatch in real life. She just gives off that vibe. I’ve made up my mind that I just don’t like her, no matter how catchy that “Irreplaceable” song is. I think Jay Z deserves better. That is my deep thought of the day.

KGL: Speaking of drama, did you hear about the ruckus Beyonce and her parents were causing about Jennifer Hudson getting more press than B for "DreamGirls?". OMG. Supposedly, Mathew Knowles was completely rude to her on the set and at the premiere, and Mama Knowles was ignoring her. They wanted B to be the star and be considered for an Oscar, and the former American Idol was stealing all the press from B. with her amazing performance. The Knowles' are wrong. Act Christian, people! But...I still love Beyonce b/c she is from Houston and her songs make me want to get up and dance! "All the woMEN who are indepenDENT, throw yo hands up at me-e." Plus, I saw that she sells House of Dereon jeans at TJ Maxx and I love TJ Maxx.

MC: Beyonce sucks. He isn't irreplaceable. Who are you going to get better than him? Whatever. And how are you going to "upgrade him"? He has more $$ than you!

IG: YOU KNOW??!!! Whatever, B, Jay-Z is much too good for you, although apparently you are getting married this weekend. BLECH. And yes, I’d heard about how horrible the Knowles treated poor Jennifer Hudson. I hope she blows everyone out of the water and gets nominated for an Oscar and WINS. That’ll shut up stupid mumbler Beyoncé. I seriously, seriously think she is stoopid.

VC: mmm. beyonce's voice sucks. i suspected this for a long time, then my friend liz saw her and alicia keys and missy elliot and she said that beyonce was REALLY bad live. but i love her studio-enhanced music. jay-z is ugly. fix your teeth! you've got boocoo bucks. get braces! and work out a little. get a personal trainer for those arms! it's one thing to be poor and out of shape - but dude, you've got money. plus, the npr review of his come-back cd said it was lukewarm and middle-aged. plus, i didn't like that he was all DL about his relationship with beyonce. i'm not taking sides on this one b/c both of them are problematic.

IG: Bite your tongue, V!!!! Jay-Z is awesome. He's just ugly and there's nothing he can do about that (although I agree with you that he should hit up the gym - but I thought Beyoncé made him do that already???). And so what if he did not want to whore out his relationship with Beyoncé??

KGL: And whose song, "Murderer," makes me shudder everytime b/c it is SO awful.

VC: omg that is the worse song ever. she got a billboard award yesterday beating mary j and beyonce (i think). jay-z USED to be awesome. and braces take no effort - they even have clear ones now.

IG: And, she’s just basically admitting to being a ho. I mean, who DOES that???

KGL: Crazy girls with crazy eyes from Trinidad & Tobago, that's who.

AR: BTW, the Beyonce being mean to Jennifer Hudson thing is totally true. I have sources. And she was really mean to her at Oprah and wouldnt' talk to her because Oprah called J-Hud to tell her how amazing she was. Also, Michael Knowles called and demanded they recut the movie and they laughed in his FACE! Apparently, B is a big baby who totally believes all the hype that her parents have created around her. I just think about Michelle and Kelly. Kelly prob didn't have it as bad but Michelle had to have known what she was getting into.

IG: Ohhhhhhhhh, I hate Beyoncé. BTW, bitch, you can’t act. Get over yourself. It’s clear that you did not graduate high school. My mother, for whom English is a second language learned late in adulthood, has better diction than you. OH! I HATE HER! HATE! HATE! HATE! I hope Jennifer wins a million trillion awards and that Oprah become her fairy godmother spreading lucky gold dust all around her. I hate Beyoncé.

KGL: Ooh, as much as I love me some Beyonce, I truly DIG Mary J. Blige. She is so soulful.

IG: Do you all remember when Mary J. was a coke whore?? Literally? Back in the "Real Love" era --?? It was glorious! :)

Harry Potta'

Okay, I've never seen the Harry Potter movies. I know, I know. I really don't care if I ever see them ore not. But, I found this on youtube and it has amused me for 2 days. This girl is hilarious. When is she getting her own show?

Video the Vote!

Mighty Racist

Why does this picture of Angelina Jolie make me so uncomfortable? Perhaps because they darkened a bitch up to play that dead journalist's wife, Mariane Pearl.

It's for the new movie A MIGHTY HEART which Brad Pitt bought with Jennifer Aniston when they were married. When they seperated, he stole that shit from her and put sucia Angelina in it. I'm sorry but this is reaching SOUL MAN territory. I'm not okay with it. What does Zahara think of this?!

House of Crackheads

So last night, I watched the premiere of HOUSE OF CARTERS. I have to say that it was the most anticipated new show of the season for me because I've read every tragic detail of the break up of this family. Cheating father, lying mother, missing money, 19 year old hoe that daddy is fucking. I mean it doesn't get much better than that. Unless you televise it.....

I really don't know how I endured the hour of screaming and yelling. But having survived it, all I can really say is - wow, this family is fucked up! I mean, all our families have their degree of fuckedupness, but I think the Carters take the cake.

First, there is unfortunately named sister Bobby Jean (aka BJ). When your two options in life are to be called BJ or Bobby Jean, you kind of know that things aren't gonna go to well for you. BJ is the ugly sister. She has bad hair and bad skin and she makes it worse by smoking. She wants to be a cooking show host, which is ironic considering that the rest of the family hates her food. BJ is all about her low self-esteem, her big boobs and the bottle. BJ finds love with her bff alchy-haul, until people fuck up her buzz then she gets mean and kicks her dogs. Poor BJ, they should have left her in the trailer park in Sarasota. Her name is her fate and her fate is to pass the days on a lawn chair drinking and smoking her life away in front of the trailer park.

Aaron Carter is totally a meth addict. He's got the acne and the scabby face. He tweaks, I mean works, in the studio at ungodly hours and I think that he is abused by his big brother Aaron. He's like a lame puppy one moment and then he gets all crazy, invincible in the next. Pobrecito. I wonder if he used to freebase with Lohan or Duff. I would have paid money to see that.

Angel and Leslie want to be a model and a singer, respectively (or irrespectively). Angel looks like one of those girls who rocks the barbazon modeling classes at the mall. Leslie feels guilty for being the last one to leave their crackhead, thief of a mother back in Florida to peruse her dreams.

The entire house is headed up by Nick, who has taken on roll as segregate father to the brood because apparently, before this, they didn't even talk to one another nor did they know that they were all in the same city working on their "art". Nick is going to make all their dreams come true, just like Lew Pearlman did for him. During this time, he will whip them into shape by fighting with them, biting them (I'm serious), telling them that their mother used them all, and touching them in inappropriate places...okay, well maybe not that, but you get the point.

All in all, House of Carters is a sad look into the lives of people whose lives fall apart when a bad cocktail of white trash, stage parents, talented kids, and sudden cash flow mix together in the state of Florida to give you this.

Yes, it's terrible. Yes, it's sad. Yes, you can see them all 20 years from now being totally fucked up and destitute. But for now, they are living in a house in Beverly Hills, screaming at each other and spending their money like it grew on trees. I can watch that for thirteen episodes and not let it weigh on my conscience.

So What....

"So What" - that song that has gotten so much air play on the radio lately and has become my new office song, sure has stuck it out for the long haul. I love to sing it in the car, in the shower, while I'm standing at the copy machine at work, to myself at my desk, I even sing it in my sleep while I'm snoozing in the morning trying to get my ass out of bed.

My comadre pointed out very astutely that this song had to have been written for gelat (latina) women. I have to say that after thinking about it, she's got to be right. Could it be that this is our theme song for better or worse? Ay dios.

SO WHAT
Field Mob
feat. Ciara
[Jazze Pha]
Ladies and GENTLEMEN!
Jazze Pha, Field Mob, Ciara, Superstar DJ's
Here we go

[Chorus - Ciara]
They say - "He do a little this, he do a little that
He always in trouble," and I heard
"He's nuttin but a pimp, he's done a lot of chicks
He's always in the club," and they say
"He think he slick, he's got a lot of chips
He's sellin them drugs," and I heard
"He's been locked up, find somebody else
He ain't nuttin' but a thug"
So whaaaaaaaaat, so whaaaaaat
So whaaaaaat, so whaaaaat

[Shawn Jay]
And they say - I'm a slut, I'm a ho, I'm a freak
I got a different girl everyday of the week
You too smart you'd be a dummy to believe
That stuff that you heard that they say about me
They say that I'm THIS, they say that I'm THAT
But all of it's fiction, none of it's fact!
But you don't be hearin it about your lover
You let it go in one ear and out the other
Now he say, she say, they say, I heard
If they fake we can't let it get on our nerves
She miserable, she just want you to be
Like her, misery needs company
So don't listen to that vine of grapes - They're
Nuttin' but liars hatin, and I bet
They wouldn't mind tradin pla-ces
with you by my side in my Mercedes

[Chorus]

[Smoke]
Mo' Money, Mo' Problems, life of a legend
Haters throw salt like rice at a weddin
So what, that's your cousin, that don't mean nuthin
Her like missin is a type of affection
You get, you just blind to the facts
See the lies just as obvious as cries for attention
Yield to the blindness to apply your suspicion
But listen, say you love me, gotta trust me
Why you stress this high school mess?
Break up never, they just jealous!
Drama from your mother, mean mug from your brother
I'm that author of the book, they can judge from the cover
Yes - I been to jail
And yes - I'm grindin for real
I'm a positive talkin negative pimp
They hate to see you doin better than them, so!

[Chorus]

(Ladies and Gentlemen, Ciara)

[Ciara]
Some people don't like, it
'Cause you hang out in the street
But you my boy-friend
You've always been here for me
This love is serious
No matter what people think
I'm gon' be here for ya
and I don't care what they say
Some people don't like, it
'Cause you hang out in the street
But you my boy-friend
You've always been here for me
I love the thug in ya
No matter what people think
I'm gon' be here for ya
and I don't care what they say

[Field Mob ad-libs as song fades]

Tortilla Nation

I feel the need to educate people on a recent trend that has me very worried. I just saw a commercial yesterday for the new McDonalds $1 Chicken Snack Wrap. People eat in on the street, they eat it on the go, they eat it in the office, they eat it at home. It’s so convenient, that you can take it on the go and hold it in one hand because it’s neatly rapped in America’s new boyfriend – The Tortilla.

In this world of healthy wraps, nouveau fusion Mexican cuisine, late night drive ups and fast casual dining….it seems that tortillas are making a leap to the A-list. I’m proud of the tortilla. It’s getting its much needed moment in the spotlight. But like most things that hit the mainstream, America has begun to pimp out the tortilla so that it has begun to look like a shadow of its former self. It's being handled by mere mortals and it may be a danger to us all. Let me explain…..

When I was a little girl, every morning, Hermelinda, the lady who took care of my grandpa would make homemade tortillas and pan. She would put some scrumptious butter on my tortilla and roll it up for me to have with my café con leche. It was a delicious treat that was stunting my growth and packing on the early pounds, but I was four years old, what did I care? My torrid love affair with the tortilla had begun.

My grammy would often make me tortillas with peanut butter and jelly for an afternoon snack. She would grill the tort to an inch of its life so that it was nice and crispy and smear on the PB&J and I would have it with a bottle of Pepsi (because Mexican’s believe firmly in that Pepsi won the challenge and we also love to recycle glass). The most important part of this equation was the fact that the tortilla had to be very, very toasty.

In my early years, whenever I would try to take her to Taco Bell she would scoff. No way was she going to eat there. Their tortillas were RAW. When we would have brunch at Mexican restaurants, my grammy would send back many a tortilla at a restaurant because it wasn’t toasty enough. “Like a cracker!” she would say when she sent it back. I think her record for sending back the same set of tortillas was five times.

I finally asked my grandma one day why she was so insistent that the tortilla had to be so crispy. “It’s better that way, and besides, if it’s raw, you’ll get worms!” Whaaaaaa-waaa-waaaa-WORMS? I was gonna get worms? Like my dog? Like they were gonna eat me from the inside out and squirm in my body? Oh my God, how many soft tacos had I eaten in my lifetime? How many Big Beef Burritos would it take for a colony of worms to grow in my belly? I was going to die. At the tender age of eight, I knew that it was all over. I was a mere vessel for parasitic colonization.

I ran home and told my mom that I was gonna die. She said that it probably hadn’t done that much damage. “So it’s true?” I asked. “Better to err on the side of caution,” she replied cryptically. From that day on, I never, ever, ever ate a raw tortilla again. Not steamed, not warmed. I needed those bitches grilled to an inch of their life. I even sent them back a few times.

Now in my lifetime, my grammy also told me that if I ate chile seeds that the seed would go in my appendix and I would die. She also told me that eating Vicks was good for me. My grammy knew lots of stuff, so I ain’t trying to question her wisdom.

Today, I would like you to ask yourself the following questions. Does it really seem like a good idea to eat raw dough? Do issues of salmonella and yeast raise a caution flag for you? Do raw eggs scare you? Then I would think that eating a tempe wrap in a raw tortilla (no matter how sun-dried tomatoed that shit is), a steamed burrito, or a microwaved quesadilla might be a little suspect.

Let this be a cautionary lesson for you all. Don’t be fooled by whitey’s attempt to appropriate our foods. They don’t know what they are getting themselves into and I strongly question their ability to handle such things. Tortillas are to be handled with care, cooked on a comal, sarten or directly on your gas stove. There is no other alternative. If a live flame has not touched your tortilla, you may be in grave danger. Assure yourself good health and a long life. Cook your tortillas. You might have to send that shit back five times, but at least you won’t have to have your appendix taken out because of a damn chile seed or have worms eat your insides out.

Lonelygirl15 - Not So Lonely

So yesterday, I mentioned my current fixation with video blogging. One of the people who I neglected to mention was someone named Lonelygirl15 . I had seen Lonelygirl15's videos featured on You Tube and all the hits she'd gotten, so I watched them. Honestly, I didn't get it. They were kind of boring and a little weird and too personal.

I never thought much of it again until I saw an article in the LA Times today. Could it be that Lonelygirl15 isn't real at all? That she is a genious marketing tool used to promote an upcoming horror movie? Fucking brilliant.

Mystery Fuels Huge Popularity of Web's Lonelygirl15

By Richard Rushfield and Claire Hoffman

September 8, 2006

Lonelygirl15 appears to be an innocent, home-schooled 16-year-old, pouring her heart out for her video camera in the privacy of her bedroom. But since May, her brief posts on the video-sharing site YouTube and the social networking hub MySpace have launched a Web mystery eagerly followed by her million-plus viewers: Who is this sheltered ingenue who calls herself "Bree," and is she in some sort of danger — or, worse, the tool of some giant marketing machine?

No one has publicly come forward to lay claim to her work, but she is starting to look as connected in Hollywood as any starlet. Three lonelygirl15-obsessed amateur Web sleuths set up a sting using tracking software that appears to show that e-mails sent from a lonelygirl15 account came from inside the offices of the Beverly Hills-based talent agency Creative Artists Agency.

The apparent CAA link takes its place alongside other tantalizing pieces of evidence that lonelygirl15 is not who she claims to be: a copyright for the name obtained by an Encino lawyer, and a plot line that, leading speculation suggests, will turn out to be the lead-in to a horror movie's marketing campaign.

CAA spokesman Michael Mand said he "could neither confirm nor deny" that the agency is representing whoever is behind the 27 video posts. (Other talent agencies and production companies contacted by The Times denied any connection.)

As to horror film rumors, calls made to several studios found no such plans — but plenty of fascination for the way in which a Hollywood-ready cultural phenomenon has been built from a grass-roots Web platform. Lonelygirl15, many say, is the next-generation "Blair Witch Project," using interactive forms of storytelling that, like the 1999 hit, tries to trick an audience into thinking it's true.

Indeed, if a commercial project does result, lonelygirl15 may prove to be a model of how to harness a groundswell created on seemingly populist, user-driven websites such as YouTube and MySpace.

To fans, meanwhile, it doesn't seem to matter whether lonelygirl15 turns out to be a private citizen or part of something bigger.

Riana Giammarco, a Rhode Island 20-year-old who curates a lonelygirl15 discussion board (one of several on the Web) says the mystery is the principal draw for her.

"I like the community aspect of the mystery — getting together and trying to figure it out," Giammarco said in a phone interview. "Though I would still watch if there weren't a mystery, the videos wouldn't appeal to me as much."

Lonelygirl15 began quietly, posting in May two amateurish tributes to other videos on the Web's confessional arenas. For a moment she was just one of thousands who post videos on the site each day, typically young people speaking into cameras about their personal lives, a familiar trope from reality TV.

On June 16, lonelygirl15 made her first appearance in a video, titled "First Blog/Dorkiness Prevails." Dark-haired, big-eyed and pretty, she blinked nervously and hugged her knees as she described living in a small town "hours from a mall" with strict religious parents and a friend named Daniel, who she didn't like "in that way."

Over the next three months, two dozen more videos hit the Web, spaced out every few days. Bree dangled hints about her life, revealing that she had spent her youth in New Zealand, was treated for "lazy eye" and had an obsession with physicist Richard Feynman. Oblique references popped up to "my religion," which was never named but which forbade things such as attending Daniel's high school graduation party.

Fans soon started to notice jarring details. A music clip from an undiscovered L.A. band was mixed in to her well-edited montage sequences. Her room was movie-set neat. Above her bookshelf hung a photo of famed occultist Aleister Crowley. Thin already, Bree talked about an upcoming religious ceremony that she would participate in, even though it involved going on a diet.

On the message boards, discussions revolved around the single shoot theory: that the videos must have been filmed in one batch, because they gave little or no nod to the furor erupting around them. The landscape of two outdoor videos had botanical clues that suggested Southern California.

Since June, the videos have regularly made it to the top of YouTube's daily "Most Viewed" list, averaging about 200,000 views each, with several topping 600,000 — viewership many cable TV executives would kill for.

In late August, fans discovered that the Web address for lonelygirl15.com had been purchased before the first video even appeared, with efforts made to shield the identity of the buyer.

In early September, Web forums erupted with the news that lonelygirl15 had been trademarked and the application filed by an Encino lawyer named Kenneth Goodfried. (He declined to comment for this article.) Within days, the MySpace profile of Goodfried's daughter was being combed for connections to the video.

Independent film director and blogger Brian Flemming, who is known for creating edgy film events, became wrapped into the story when viewers became convinced that Flemming had constructed the whole thing in order to promote an upcoming film.

Flemming said he received more than 300 e-mails from people accusing him of involvement.

"People have been confronting me with coincidences, and I don't know how to explain it," Flemming said, choosing his words carefully for fear of furthering the theories. "It's been pretty crazy and actually not particularly desired. It's like a big gift being handed to me that I don't want."

In the last week, the videos have developed seemingly ominous themes. In "Bree the Cookie Monster," Bree and Daniel, on her bedroom floor, sample cookies they say they have made. Judging a contest is a purple monkey puppet, who holds up scores for each cookie recipe. The first cookie was given a "10." The second a "12," the third "06."

Viewers immediately asked: Why 06 and not just 6? Soon, a posting told the virtual crowd that Aleister Crowley was born on October 12, 1875." Could it be that the ritual lonelygirl15 had been preparing for would take place on Crowley's birthday?

But the most compelling mystery has become who is behind lonelygirl15, and fans soon became proactive in trying to solve that bigger puzzle. Driven by hours of conjecturing and late-night instant-messaging analysis, three amateur sleuths who met on the discussion boards on lonelygirl15.com hatched a plan in August to lure lonelygirl15 to MySpace profiles they had created for the purpose.

They were Shaina Wedmedyk, an 18-year-old Oberlin College freshman; Chris Patterson, a 36-year old software engineer from Tulsa, Okla.; and a 23-year old law student in Pennsylvania who declined to be identified by name.

On Aug. 29, they sent an e-mail from a profile they had created for "Seth," an imaginary 17-year-old from Ohio. He told lonelygirl15, "You seem really cool!! I added you and I hope you will add me back. We have the same interests! Your videos are cool, where do you host them? MySpace?"

Later that day, they received an answer. It read simply, "Hi seth :) I think I added you…. The videos are on youtube. What sort stuff are you into?"

Using the tracking software, the team was able to see that seconds before lonelygirl15 had sent the note, someone had looked at Seth's profile. This visit was the only one the profile had received in 17 hours, suggesting that whoever was at the controls of the lonelygirl15 account on MySpace looked at Seth's page before sending the message.

The user's IP address — the number assigned to any Internet-connected computer — was traced to the private server of CAA in Beverly Hills.

Tuesday night, lonelygirl15 posted a sexually tinged video titled "Poor Pluto," in which Bree bemoans the demotion of Pluto to sub-planetary status.

Sprawled on her bed, she stares into the camera and remembers her brief time at a regular high school, when she loved stars.

"They said I was doing something with my teacher, and that's when I stopped asking questions about stars."

Another riddle that will move the story forward?

Or, perhaps, there is a truly mind-blowing explanation for lonelygirl15, albeit one that keeps receding ever further into the realm of the unlikely: just a bored teenager with a camera.

High School - Bye School

I live a block away from a high school. I never think much of it when I’m on my way to work except that I need to slow down lest I get pulled over for driving too fast and threatening the life of our future America. But now that it’s September and the summer is over, I realized that kids are actually back in school. They are. Can you believe it?

I drove by the high school this morning and saw all these kids up in on the front steps with their heavy book bags, trudging their sleepy little asses to class, looking like this was the last place in the world that they wanted to be and I had one thought:

I may hate my job, I may hate my life, but I am fucking glad as hell that I don’t have to go to high school anymore.

High school fucking sucks. It sucked when our parents went. It sucked harder when we went. And I can only imagine how tough you must have to be now to survive the war at home that is one’s secondary education. I mean, do you remember getting up when it was still dark so that you could be in homeroom by 7:20 am? My dad used to rip off my covers, turn on the TV to full blast on the snow channel and put shaving cream on my face and none of it worked. I was still always late in the morning.

My mom would inspect my clothes before I walked out the door and inevitably make me more late when she would get mad that I didn’t iron my jeans. Good lord woman! I’m fucking late! I don’t have time to put a crease in my jeans! Then she would yell at me and ask me what people would think of her if her daughter went out in public looking all “chewed up”. Whatever mom. Whatever.

Then I would rush to school in my little clunker (life was worse when you rode the fucking bus) and sit in my car and do my homework until I heard the last bell ring. I rushed up to homeroom and my teacher would yell at me for being tardy. You know that I was #2 in my high school class (because I took the hard AP classes and some people were fucking lazy ass motherfuckers who took stupid classes like ROTC History so they could get straight A’s and be valedictorians, then go to community college or court reporting school) and I almost flunked out of my AP English class with a Withdrawal Fail (WF) because I was always late? Fuck you, Mrs. Fritz. I still remember your fucked up, sorry ass and I still hate you for it, bitch.

Then I would think about how I forgot my clothes for P.E. and how I had to wear the “Loner” P.E. clothes that actually said LONER on them. It’s LOANER you fucking dolts. Is that place an institution for intelligence or ignorance? Then I would have to run the mile with cholas who would walk the whole thing while shouting expletives like “Fuck you, Miss Rizzo. I ain’t fucking running no stupid ass mile. Fuck this shit. I ain’t running for anyone but la migra.”

Then after P.E., I’d go to lunch and fight for a table at Burger King while I waited for my double cheeseburger, because that’s totally what I needed to be eating everyday to get more chubs club.

After lunch, I would go to Spanish class with La Senora Jameson who had an untimely car accident and was never the same after she experienced some head injuries. Mrs. Jameson taught us the same lazy ass lesson plans in AP Spanish that she was teaching to Spanish 1. Then a week before the AP test she announced, “Tenemos que preparar para el examen de AP.” Um, don’t you think it’s a little late for that? Maybe we should have been thinking about that a while ago, you crazy ho.

Sixth period, Calculus. Group work! Group work is an experiment designed to have students teach one another so that they are too preoccupied to realize that their fucking teacher is a lazy ass who doesn’t know anything about Calculus in the first place. One person does all the work (me) and everyone else copies (everyone else). I guess that class was my best introduction to real world experiences so I can’t hate them entirely for showing me how unfair life really is.

Then I would go to Forensics. Yes, Forensics. Not the kind on CSI, the speech and debate class. Because I was a DORK. I didn’t know I was a dork then, but I was. I would read all the current events magazines and practice my International Extemporaneous speeches and plan our tournament trips to CSU Fullerton and Berkeley. Forensics was the only time I had any fun in school. Que sad that reading about the Middle East crisis in U.S. News and World Report was my idea of fun.

All I could think of was how I was going to have to live this day over again. High school is like Groundhog Day with bad clothes and pimples.

So today, with school back in session, I salute you, young adolescents of the world, for your bravery and your strength. Know that it will all be over soon and you will be free to waste your life and education away in the real world where things still blow. But at least you don’t have to get up so fucking early in the morning to realize it.

I Tube, You Tube

I am currently FACINATED by people who video blog. I would never do it in a million years, but I get hours and hours of enjoyment during work hours watching people on You Tube share their thoughts and feelings with thousands of strangers who find them so interesting that they are compelled respond with their own video blogs. I guess this is what you call an internet community. To me it's free entertainment because I'm too fucking poor to go to the movies anymore. I gotta get my entertainment from the masses yearning to be heard. Speak to me, gente. I first found LucyInLA who is trying to become an actress.

Lucy is a little innocent girl from Texas who came to LA to act and thinks she is gonna get famous by being on You Tube. She ain't dumb, because she is famous now. I have money on the fact that she'll be repped at CAA within the next month and I'll still be toiling away waiting for someone shitty junior agent to read my damn script. Good luck to you Lucy, you crazy ho.



The other person I found on You Tube is Little Loca. She is a straight up homegirl from East LA. Little Loca is the real mothafuckin' deal and I fucking love her. Loca gives the world shout outs and calls people out on their shit, new wave internet stilo. She's all technological and shit. She don't fuck around and you'd better not fuck with her. Little Loca, I remember when I was like you back in the day. You bring back good memories to this veterana. Keep on keeping it realz, hermana. LL 4eva'.

Flashback

Remember those bitchin' how-to videos they did on Mr. Rogers and Sesame Street? They are burned into my brain forever. Much more so then my multiplication tables. 8x7? Ummmmm. Ow, my head hurts. Those videos along with my Child Craft Encyclopedias inspired me to create wonderful original creations like box forts, puppet shows, and the worlds' first cell phone system out of two tin cans and a string. Simpler days when we were too poor for Atari, so we created our own fun. Once I buried my report card in the neighbors' yard for fun. When my mom saw what I did and spanked me with a chancla in front of them that wasn't so fun. Then I had to keep the same dirty report card the whole year and it was really embarrassing. Ay.

Anyway, take a look and remember how crayons were made back in the day by white people. Can you believe they used to work in factories? Pretty damn mind blowing if you ask me. Maybe it will inspire you to make your mom an ashtray out of bottle caps.

source

Pluto's Pissed

Poor Pluto. Those wanks at NASA thought that they would drum up a little publicity by causing US Weekly style chaos in the galaxy. So they went and publicly dissed Pluto by disinviting it to the party. That's right Pluto is no longer hip and kewl enough to be a planet. Now, it's just an angry little Icy Dwarf.

Poor Pluto has lost it's status on the planetary scene. It will now be forced to go hang out at El Torito and sip happy hour margaritas instead of going to celebrity karaoke at Guy's. Word is that Neptune was responsible for the "fire crotch" inspired incident when it told the rest of the Milky Way that Pluto was just an icy frozen little planet whose orbit was only determined by Neptune’s, and also that Pluto sucked in bed. Saturn took it further with those fucked up rings and spread it all over town like a bad case of Chlamydia. The Earth tried to be all innocent and through it's publicist stated that it wasn't responsible for the tardo people that lived on its surface like a destructive virus.

Lance Bass was the most pissed because that's where he wanted to go on his little space vacation with Richen. Boo!

When ugly people are arrogant.

What happens when you start living your life online because you are too socially inept, too frightened by real life, or just too damn ugly to go out there and get a real date?

You turn into this woman, who is apparently the most delusional person on the planet. If this bitch is gonna give ME dating tips, there is seriously something wrong with my fucking life and I would like to end it now and start over. I just don't get it. My friend Mayra always someone should always bring something to the table. You should either be cute, smart, funny or some combination there of. But this woman is none of those things. And what's worst is she thinks she is fucking great. I just don't understand it. Maybe it's a coping mechanism. Maybe it's the only way she and her cats can make it through another day. Either way....

That's one too many Comicon's for you honey. Even Will Wheaton feels sorry for your sad Star Trek ass. You stupid, arrogant, delusional hoe.

Trimspa, Baby.

One of my comadres is on a constant rant about Sean Preston and how chubs he is. I think it keeps her up at night because every time we speak our conversation ends with "And how fat is Britney's baby, yo?" I tried to ignore it, becuase I thought she was just being mean. I mean, que mala, he's just a little baby. But then I saw these side by side photos of little (ahem.) SPF. Are they feeding him human growth hormone? My god, woman. Your kid is turning into the Stay Puft Marshmellow Man!
What are you feeding him? Freaking Fosters Freeze hamburgers and fried twinkies? You're kid is out of control. Pobrecito. He's going to be too big to fit into the car seat that you don't use pretty soon. Re.Gu.Late. Put him on weight watchers, Trimspa, something! Get him an ab lounge, I don't care. But for the love of God, save SPF!

WTC or WTF

Dear Maggie,

What. The. Fuck? I just wanted to ask you that. I want to ask you many questions like - What the fuck made you think pregnant had to be the new ugly? What the fuck made you think that blue taffeta muumuu’s that accentuated your impregnated belly was a good idea? What the fuck made you think that cutting a hem at that angle was flattering? What the fuck are you doing on Wednesday instead of watching Project Runway and getting tips from Heidi Klum (a very hot pregnant lady)? What the fuck kind of weed did you smoke with your man when you laughed your head off thinking that dress was funny then forgot the whole event and proceeded to wear that travesty in public? What the fuck made you buy those shoes from DSW just because they were $29.99? What the fuck has stopped you from visiting Ashlee Simpson's delightful plastic surgeon Dr. Raj to have him look at that Miss Piggy nose of yours?

Oh god. Why the fuck do I even try?

You're useless,

A.Ro

Sucias from Spaaaaaaaaaccccceeee

Britney Spears is a dirty piece of white trash and I think it's only appropriate that she married someone from Fresno. She deserves and Oscar for how long she hid her true colores from us. Here she is high as a kite and stupid as, well, she always is. My mom said she will keep her eye out for her at the central valley WalMarts where she will no doubt be buying something from the Kathy Ireland collection to wear to the Teen Choice Awards were El Kevin will be showing us his Papozaoo. Until then, let us all pause and contemplate the greater questions Britney shares with us all. Time travel and Back to the Future - can it really happen?

Fergie Ferg

Fergie is a dirty hoe who stole the hook to Kelis' song Bossy. But I fucking love the bitch anyway and I love London Bridge. It's better than Bossy because it's laced with Meth. Watcha.

Kiss of the Spiderwoman

At her weekend wedding, Marcia Cross used her veil spider web to trap her little mosquita flower girls. She later ate them at the reception with some creme fresh. mmmm!

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Move Along Guppy

So Star decided to get ghetto on Babawawah's ass on Tuesday and announce her departure from The View earlier than expected. She got up on her pulpit, praised Jesus, held hands with babawawah, J-Oy!, and whatshernameagain. She told us that Star don't know what the futcha holds, but she knows who holds the futcha.

Lemme tell you something, Big Gay Al holds her future by the balls and she better find her ass another job and quick because all that meth, porn, and that house on Fire Island are gonna get hell of expensive now that that View check ain't rollin' in and Mama Estrella ain't making the dough that she used to. I know she's saving money on fabric and donuts, but she's got to be spending more money on girdles and her plastic surgery bills. Dios te bendiga, Star. Well, not really you nasty bitch.

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Petal Harder Bitches.

Dear Cyclists,

Fuck you. Fuck you for thinking that your little piece of metal on two wheels is a car. Fuck you for hogging up an entire lane of traffic while all of us in AUTOmobiles sit behind your sorry ass watching you petal as we try and maneuver around you. Fuck you for making me late this morning.

Let me tell you something. If you hadn’t noticed, we live in the most car centric city in the world, Los Angeles. In the city of Los Angeles people drive to get places. That is because they have places to be. So when you decide that it’s a great idea to put on your little lycra tights and go for a “ride” on a Monday at 9am – move your ass to France bitch because I don’t have time for your shit. I’m going to make your fucking little helmet wearing pansy ass suffer. I’m going to cut you off. I’m going to get really close to you in my car. I’m going to come up right behind you and honk. I’m going to scare the shit out of you because you fucking deserve it for making my commute harder than it has to be.

(As for my gelat brethren who ride bikes, I ain’t hating on you for riding out of necessity, but I will just mention that there is this thing called the bus which has air conditioning, gets you there in half the time, and seems very comfortable and affordable. I’m just throwing that out there.)

So, all you cycling enthusiasts can suck it. You aren’t Lance Armstrong. Your little yellow bracelet doesn’t give you super powers. You’re on a fucking bike, remember that the next time you contemplate a “ride” on a weekday morning, because I’ll be aiming. For you.


Thanks,

A.ro

Click Click

I'm sorry but this man is just hot. I don't know why I think that, because he looks a little like a chango. But maybe I'm into monkeys and I don't even know it. I heart you Nick Lachey and I'm glad you divorced that pendeja Jessica. Let her sit on her daddy's lap for the rest of her life. I'll sit on yours.

MexPheever

Katharine Mcphee loves the people and we love you! Latinos officially have the McPheever. (Seriously, you see how sweaty these little mocosos look? I know, I'm just jealous.)

photographed at the JC Penney Jam for Kids
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Days of Thunder

$cientology has officially made it's play for world domination. In an attempt to infiltrate the heartland, L. Ron's peeps have joined the NASCAR family. I wonder what Jesus' e-meter reading is after a few beers.

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Nuh Uh

Marc Anthony denies the Ying Yang Twins a little taste of Lola. Then Pocahontas wraps herself in a small pox infected J.Lo love blanket. Watche.

I Love U So Much, I Want to Hurt U.

Marc Anthony took out this full page ad in Variety today to honor his bride, Jennifer Lopez, on her Crystal Award for sparing the American public from another tragic turn at romantic comedy in the year 2006. Yeah Marc. We get it. We know. She's allllll yours. No one elses. We know that you strangle "Lola" (wtf?) a little each night just to test her and remind her that she can never ever leave you. Because if she tries, you just might have to kill her and she will totally, totally deserve it.

Never leave you. Ever. Ever.

Ever.

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Resuscitating Mi ALMA

So yesterday the ALMA awards returned to television after a long absence. Didn't notice they were gone? Yeah, me neither. Eva Longoria used her leverage as ABC's resident saucy Latina to single handedly get the show back on the air and served as its producer and host. ABC generously gave her a budget of $5 ($4.50 of which she spent on her wardrobe) and let her have a go at it.

All in all, it was a pretty dull endeavor. They couldn't even fill the balcony seats at the Shrine so they only shot at weird downward facing angles. White people like Jessica Simpson, Big and Rich, and Felicity Huffman came to show their support. Black people like The Ying Yang Twins and Brian McKnight also came to show the love and pimp their Spanish language singles. The Asians hate us I guess, cause they weren't there.

There were plenty of awkward moments (most of which involved the woman formerly known as Selena), like watching Eva Longoria have to do the whole show while J.Lo stared daggers into her boobs willing them to deflate. The Ying Yang twins tried to get J.Lo to come on stage and dance with them, but she clung on to the sapo for dear life.
The Sapo got a lifetime achievement award for being ugly and he cried when some randoms butchered his songs. Andy Garcia got an award for being Cuban. Alexis Bledel and America Ferrera were denied because they shared traveling pants with white girls. Paulina Rubio was a hoe. Carlos "Ned the joke thief" Mencia continued to pretend that he is Mexican even though it's a big mentira! George Lopez refrained from kicking his ass. The NCLR lady wore a really unfortunate outfit. Gloria and Emilio Estefan reminded us all who's in charge. (I fucking hate them both)

A good time was had by all. Here's hoping next year has some more drama and a bigger budget so I don't have to Tivo through that shit in 30 minutes and hate myself for not showing the love.

Muscles...if you're nasty

Daymn. What kind of pills is Miss Janet taking that makes you thin AND gives you muscles? I NEED TO KNOW. Because I've been taking some herbal african crap that Nicole Ritchie recommended and it ain't doing shit. I wanna be ripped!

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Cage Match: McPheever vs. Soul Patrol

Tonight is the big sing-off on the Idol and I will be watching with baited breath. I can hardly contain myself. The overwhelming in support of Taylor Hicks in the media and the pimping being done by the judges is pissing me off. But if American soccer moms in bad jeans want to vote for him, then so be it. They also elected the idiot we call President.

I have my little cell phone all charged up to vote for Katharine McPhee cause she's cool like that and not a weirdo and I can actually look at her when she's singing. Here's hoping she pulls through tonight 'cause God knows I'd buy her CD before I would ever buy Taylor Hicks'. Go Kat!

I made the mistake of going on the idol message boards because this stupid show has taken my geekdom to new heights. The one really amazing thing I discovered is that this really isn't a talent contest to some people, it's a character contest. It's about who has the best story, who seems like the better person - in essence, who deserves your vote and who deserves to win the big prize. It's not about who has the best voice, it's about the American Idol and what they represent. People discuss how charming and generous Taylor seems when he hugs other contestants. How wrong Katharine was to smile when she discovered she was in the top 2. Fans even go to the extent of analyzing family members of the contestants and assessing how genuine they are or aren't. Very strange, indeed. Because to me (one jaded by the industry), it's all about who would sell more albums, who's more commercial, who has the whole package. Advantage, McPhee. But if the voting trends are any indication, to the rest of America, it's about the unlikely underdog who does tricks when you give him a bone. Advantage, Hicks. But when Simon Cowell shopped this show some 5 years ago, he sold it as "part soap opera, part talent competition". If that is indeed the case, you, Mr. Cowell, are a genius.

And on a final note, I would like to express my thanks to Fox for making this all be over in two days. I want my life back.

And for a little levity...check out THIS hilarious spoof on Tvgasm.com (via ONTD). Made my day.

Que Horor!

You know how when you were little your mom would wrap you up in, like, ten layers of clothing and put vicks on the bottom of your feet before she put your socks on and you were like "Moooommm, it's the summer time! I'm hot!" and she would reply "Hot, que nada. I don't need you catching pneumonia or a sun burn! Cover yourself!" and you would sweat and sweat and sweat, almost passing out from a heat stroke, but not say anything because then you would get the chancla? Yeah, that doesn't happen to white people. Look at La Britney. I think Sean P. is dead in the back of the car. He's all uncovered, getting a sunburn, and whiplash. My mother would NOT approve.

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Sore Loser

Why has American Idol's Chris been all menso this week making caca faces to the press saying he's to "bad for the idol". Yeah, you were bad. And boring and that is why your ass got voted off. Deal with it buddy. I liked him before he went and threw himself a big fucking pity party. Let's just remind ourselves what happened to Scott Stipe when he started to believe the hype more that he believed in Jesus.

Check out this hilarious link.

American Wha?!

OMGOMGOMG. That was some bad ass tv. I ain't gonna lie. I was shocked that Chris got the boot. Look at Kat...she was shocked too.

In my heart, I wanted a Chris/Kat final, but I think Taylor and his tourettes dancing Soul Patrol have this thing locked. It's sad really. He has zero commercial appeal and little Elliot warbles like a hobbit in heat.

Five weeks ago, I don't think I would have said this, but I feel bad for Kat now. If I were in her shoes, I would want to crawl under a rock until all the anger and outrage echoing across America subsides. The nerves have been getting to her the past few weeks and she can't hide it. That would be me. I would walk off that stage and tell them I was quitting because I couldn't take the pressure or the idea of going back on that stage when people just booed and moaned at me.

But, according to my mother, I can't sing for shit. Kat can. So hopefully she'll pull it out next week despite the Idol Machine and wow us with something good. I might actually have for the first time since I voted for Kelly Clarkson in season 1. Go, Kat, Go.

Damn you American Idol for making me give a shit.

And Paula, lay off the drugs. Seriously. It's getting out of hand, you fucking freak.
"Hold me Chris, the room is spinning. It's spinnnnningggggg!"

Tweet, Tweet

I was Tweety Bird on Halloween '82. I lost the Madison Elementary costume competition to a kid in a giant paper bag monster outfit. I was pissed. I cried. He bought that shit at the grocery store. Mine was hand made by my mama, mofo. But now I understand what the judges knew that I didn't. I would never, in all of my glory, come as close to looking like the honorable Mr. Bird than Nicole Ritchie. It's so effortless, so perfect. I wonder if she's lined her house with newspaper. If someone had told me that I could have won by getting on an all diet coke diet with the sidekick II exercise regimen, I would have started that shit in Kindergarten with Tab and my fucking Speak 'N Spell.
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McJustice

McGosling loves immigrants! Further proof that they are the most fantastic couple EVER. IN. THE. WHOLE. ENTIRE. WORLD. Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling took to the streets during the "Un Dia Sin Imigrantes/Day Without Immigrants" March in Los Angeles.

This is when I hate my stupid ass for not sticking it to the man and going to work. I fucking love you, McGosling, for loving the people. Adelante!

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MI:V

Tom: So this is what a vagina looks like?

Kanye: That's what I hear.

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He's not only a Scientologist, he's also black.

Keeping It Real for Whitey

Yesterday at our commissary at work, there was a sign at the sandwich station reading "Due to yesterday's march, we have no ciabatta bread today. We apologize for the inconvenience." I can live without ciabatta bread for a day. In fact, if the march affects even the ciabatta bread, imagine all the MUCH more significant things that would be halted if this country didn't have an immigrant population that kept our capitalist regime running full force. Dude, but at the commisarry, the white people were piiiiiissssed. Good, let them think about it a little while they eat rye or wheat. Hit 'em where it hurts, y Poquito Mas.

Just Aiiiight For Me

I don't know what has come over me, but I'm obsessed with American Idol like a freaking twelve year old girl. It's not like it's even a good season. It's Season 5 for Christ's sake. You'd think I would have moved on to some other reality basura like Top Chef. But no, I'm still watching the idol. You watch the show through all the crap competitors to get to the final 5 when people are actually good and, along the way, the producers have some how manipulated you into actually caring who wins!

My money is on Katharine McPhee. That's right, I think I have a fucking low grade McPhever. It's like the Avian Flu. I didn't want it, I just got it. I honestly think that Katharine is really affected and suffers from that child star with a pushy stage mother thing. I don't know what it is, but she sets off my Bitchdar. Maybe I hate her because she's pretty and skinny. But, I guess I can say that she's the most interesting to watch and I can hardly wait to see if she sticks her foot in it again. It's like she's my abusive boyfriend or something. Honestly, once she sang the Aretha Franklin classic "Till You Come Back To Me"- it was over. I was hooked on the McPipe. So Kat, you'd better pull through because I actually picked up my phone and voted for you last night, even though you embarrassed me by writhing on the ground while singing your song. "So A, you're phone was busy last night when I tried to call you. What were you doing?" "Oh, I was taking a survey, yeah, a survey and donating money to the Red Cross."

On happy note...the Gods shined down on us today. My favorite idol, the original Kelly Clarkson, dyed her hair back to a color found in nature! I heart you Kelly! Thank you, thank you, thank you for not making us suffer through your washed out blonde rocker look anymore. Since U Been Gonnnnnnneeeee!

La Pisca

Brad and Angelina instruct Zahara on planting corn seeds in the desert in preperation for her future career as an exploited child laborer.

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D is for Dumbass

Dear Denise Richards,

I want my sympathy back. I should have known. All the Denise's that I've ever known in my life (including one's played by Lisa Bonnet aka Lilakoi Moon) have been dirty hoes. You are no exception.

I spent all day Sunday feeling sorry for your whorey ass. I read your affidavit on the Smoking Gun. I worried for you and hoped that you were getting help for your battered woman's syndrome. I thought, man if Carlos Estevez can change his name to Charlie Sheen and pretend he was white, who knows what he could be capable of...right? I mean, he called you a dick face. He said he hoped you got cancer in your face! He slept with prostitutes in Encino. He showed you Nicole Simpson autopsy photos. He gambled away your Wild Things money. This man fucked with your shit.

I wondered how you and Lola and Sam were dealing with the crisis. If they knew that their daddy was a coke loving, pill popping, gambling, sex addict and how that went over at the playground. I thought, it must be so lonely for you now that you can't go to set and play "Is Jon Cryer gay or straight?" What's left, you know?

But then...but then....

You go traipsing around town with your best friend's husband. You tell the world, without saying it, that you were the "other woman".

You fucked it all up. You could have been Jennifer Aniston, yo. What's your problem? You just threw away a big settlement. Think of the syndication money. You could have been on the cover of Vanity Fair! Ok, well maybe Redbook, but beggars can't be choosers. Mensa! You blew it.

Fotos y Recuerdos

This weekend I had the pleasure of traveling to San Antonio aka The Heart of Texas for my dear comadre's fabulous wedding. We had a fantastic time besides being racially profiled at our hotel where I'm sure it was the first time they had so many young, hip, educated Latinos at their establishment. We regulated, no te preocupes. We saw the Alamo and screamed "Mentiras!" when they told an oral history of the battle. We ate at Rudy's Texas BBQ and thought we would never regain consciousness from our food comas. We drove by Sandra Cisneros' home where she had the gall to put up a sign that said "Please respect our privacy. Autographed books are available at the following bookstores...." I wanted to knock so I could tell her I didn't want her pinche autograph anyways. Does she really think we care that much? Por favor. And lastly, we had a fantastic dinner at Mi Tierra Restaurant that has an altar to La Santa Selena in the lobby. We paid our respeto. (photo pose courtesy of Mike, the fantastic groom.) I'm ready to head back to my Tejano roots soon. Que viva Tejas!

American Cinematic Me

Ok, so I finally watched the HBO movie Walkout at the urging of my hermanito.

I had seen all of the mass emails going to the gelats in LA when they were filming asking people to come be extras (and to bring their own clothes and a burrito for lunch, cause they were on a budget, yo) so I wasn't holding my breath that this was going to be a cinematic masterpiece. I mean, when there isn't craft service, you're destined to have bigger problems that can't be solved with giving everyone a Kraft handi-snack, y ya.

So last Saturday I sat down to watch the movie with some hot chicharones, a diet coke and my check list of "Things That Have to be in Latino Movies to Make them Down Enough":

1. Directed by Edward James Olmos. Check.
2. Produced by Moctezuma "I made Mi Familia" Esparza. Check
3. Starring primos, hermanos, and tias of the producer and director. Check.
4. Latina who's changed her name to seem more white. Laura Harring. Check.
5. Opressive white characters who in real life are actor gelat sympathizers. Check.
6. Machista's keeping their mujeres down by making them cook tortillas. Check.
7. Selena song. She wasn't born yet, so I'll let that one slide.
8. Split screen montages. Check.
9. Robert Rodriguez cast off. Check.
10. Line about Latinos working with "their hands". Check.
11. Kind of Latina, but kind of not lead. Check.


Um excuse me Edward James Olmos & Moctezuma Esparza, why do you have to put every fucking third primo from your mom's side all up in that shit? I mean, seriously? Seriously. Just because they are related to you, doesn't mean they can act. For once, I would like to see a movie about Latinos that isn't a squandered opportunity. Make a quality film about your issue or take a freaking cue from Robert Rodriguez. He makes mainstream films about characters who happen to be Latino. It's not about your primo getting his SAG card. Chingao. I realize that this movie was about historical events, but it doesn't mean it has to also be about nepotism and you guys jacking each other off. Whatever. I'd much rather go see Spy Kids 4, than see another rehash of you guys reliving the Zoot Suit movement. It's over, you're viejitos. Get over it.

Ritcheeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Juevos, Manzanas y Auntie Mame

Um, is it just me or is it a little racist that Zahara's own parents are dressing her like a Mame? I mean, don't they promote cultural sensitivity at the UN? WTF? Look at little Maddox. He's like "Bitch, better not even think about putting one of those non bai pointy hats on this head." Word.

Um, is it just me or does little Manzana Martin have a lazy eye? La Gwyneth y Chris used up this little girl's Get Out of Jail Free Card on that fucked up name. Kindergarten ain't gonna be easy. Pobrecita.

Um, is it just me or does The Sapo have no class? ¿Que dira la gente? Sucio.

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It's MY day bitches...

My superstar comadres, the wedding planner extarodinaires of Always A Bridesmaid Wedding Consulting are being featured on this week's Style Network Show Whose Wedding Is It Anyway? Check them out as they plan a sophisti-gelat (read Latinos with feria) wedding. Will the bride get what she wants? Will the wedding go off with out a hitch? What happens with thousands of dollars of flowers go missing hours before the reception? I'd go loca on someone's ass, but my diligent little Mexican worker bee's work it out. Check out Xochitl and Mayra on their episode "Pop Stars and Dictators". Highlights include Xochitl quoting a famous New York prostitute, Mayra making caras, and a florist who shows up to the ceremony in a wife beater. sigh. Good TV.

Keep Your Friends Close...

From Neil Sean of Sky News: Jennifer Lopez has hit upon a sure-fire route to a blockbuster - team up with Desperate Housewives sexpot Eva Longoria. She has a script ready to roll which features two sisters, both Hollywood stars, who fall out and dish the dirt on each other to the press. Jen thinks the knock-out comedy is ideal to take her back to the top, and is wooing Eva as we speak. The movie's set to start filming this September.

Well, well, well. La Lopez wants to make friends. This smells a little fishy to me. Maybe because the sapo put her career in the toilet, Jen has been sitting in her rapunzel castle in P.R. thinking of ways to bring La Longoria down with her. Don't do it Eva. Don't do it. Run, homegirl. You don't want to be all drug down and shit by La Jenny. She's gonna want you to be the ugly hermana, ya ves. She's gonna dress your ass up all Betty La Fea and refuse to let you get Mystic Tanned. If she offers to take you to her trailer to have platanos and mofongo, JUST. SAY. NO. It's all a ruse to get you plumped up so that she can stuff you and put you on her mantle. Forget it. You need to be the Salma in this partnership. Let Jenny be the Penelope.

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You're Giving Me a Heart Attack

Ohhhh whoa is me. Whoa is me. Olivia Newton John, what did you do to your face? Have you been hanging around that sucia Lisa Rinna? Just because she was on Dancing with the Stars doesn't mean that she isn't still a freak. ONJ, you were so beautiful and owned your age. I was hopelessly devoted to youuuuuuuuu youuuu-hohoho/but now/there's no where to hide/since you failed to push the knife aside. Now, I'm out of my head, thanks. Because I was hopelessly devoted to you and then you went and got some bad work done in TJ. My whole Friday is shot because I'm going to spend the whole day hoping for you that your swelling goes down. I hope you didn't do this because of your missing boyfriend. I still love you ONJ. I'll still buy your breast cancer charity albums. But when the aliens come take you to Xanadu, I won't be holding my breath that you'll ever come back.
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I Cast, You Cast

Imagine the money they could have saved in the prosthetics budget if they had just cast Maggie Gyllenhaal in the new movie Penelope instead of Christina Ricci....I'm just sayin'.

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Friday Musings

Salma finally tells La Lohan what we've all been thinking. "Bitch, get yo ass to a taco truck." (btw, do you see Salma's brows? Phenomenal. Just, phenomenal.)

I know American Idol is about equity and fairness and talent...but I don't really need to see this dude with Tourette's sing every week. It's painful. I'm worried he's going to fall off the stage. I get embarrassed for him and it makes me change the channel.

My kids are going to dress like this everyday. Every. Day.

Source. Source. Source.

The Sky Is Falling

So yesterday, the sky fell. A travesty occured. Crash won the Academy Award for best Oscar and white male Academy members patted themselves on the back for a job well done.

Much has been said about this film and the impact that it has made in it's expression and visual depiction of race relations in Los Angeles. People call it a triumph, a momentous moment in filmmaking, a film with spirit. I call it what it is - an over simplified lie. In more plain terms - a piece of crap.

When filmmaker Paul Haggis talked about how he was savagely carjacked from his Porshe a few years ago and how it prompted him to think about issues of race in this country, I laughed. Must be nice to roll around in your 100k sports car with rose tinted windows thinking that the people around you selling oranges on a street corner are just there for decoration. When my friend told me that she heard him speak at a talk about the film and he spent a half an hour discussing the challenge of using one's own multi-million dollar home to shoot in, I wanted to vomit.

The fact of the matter is Crash is an over simplified depiction of racism in this country from the perspective of a privileged white male. As a person of color, I would never even fathom thinking that I could depict the intricacies of racism in a 90 minute film. But then again, I'm not a white man.

If you notice, Crash tells a very black and white tale of race and class in Los Angeles. In the process it essentially silences everyone else. The women in this film have no voice, the ethnic others have no voice. In fact, the point of view in this film is only from a black and white perspective. If you notice, the POV of the latinos, asians, persians, and women are never a part of this picture.

- When Sandra Bullock hugs her maid telling her that she is the best friend she has, we see Sandra Bullock's POV, not the one of the maid. Because her feelings don't really matter do they?

- The POV of the Persian/Latino story line is told in the third person, giving neither men a voice in the personal crises that they are facing.

- Thandie Newton and Jennifer Esposito are both objectified and neither are put in a position to defend themselves from personal attack.

-The south east asian refugees who were enslaved by a Korean man are dropped off in China Town because, you know...they're all the same.

The delicate balance of race and class in this country were put in fucking cliff notes and force fed to people sitting in a theatre already full on $6 popcorn. I hate to think that that people truly believe that as long as they are not overtly racist, what they think or how they act is still okay. The worst instances of racism that I have faced in my life have been the most subtle. You can never put that on film. Who will defend me then? Who will help me out? It's okay to ignore it, if it's not spoken. In the end, this is the message that Crash reinforced to Americans who now think themselves progressive and forward thinking because they were so "moved" by that film.

The worst part of all of this is that a wonderful film, a virtually unmakable film was passed over for an Oscar yesterday. Brokeback Mountain was a film that was made against all odds. It was a period western, a film about two men, in love, made by an Asian director. It was more than that. It was a movie about unrequited love that transcended boundaries. Brokeback Mountain said more about tolerance and healing than Crash could ever dream of saying.

But I guess it's okay for Academy members to vote for Crash and say they are progressive, but not have to say they are progressive enough to honor a film about homosexuality. What they fail to understand is that it's about the universal, heart wrenching experience of love. It was all inclusive, something that Crash would never attempt to be.

So congratulations Academy, you did it. You are sooooo progressive and sooooo not racist. Like when you made fun of Three 6 Mafia, that wasn't racist at all. Hypocrites.

Go Ahead. Axe Me. Axe Me.

My bro sent me a fantastic article from today's LA Times about Gustavo Arellano's Ask A Mexican column in the OC Weekly.

I think that Gustavo is on to something here because, homeboy touches on some very interesting questions that would make anyone wonder. The first question is particularly near and dear to my heart considering that I come from a tiny town of 18,000 people and there are no less than 5 chinese restaurants. Shout out to my girls at the Tea Garden, what up chinas?! My dad is particulary convinced that all Mexican's are, in fact, half Chinese because of our affinity for the crispy noodles and chow main. yum!

Or, did you know that Mexican women don't walk out the door without looking bien fufuruffu? It's a violation of a cultural rule. eeee, what would people think of you?

The things that you learn, gente. The things that you learn. Visit Gustavo's column. Ask him a question. The answers might suprise you.

Here are some of the highlights:

Dear Mexican, My boyfriend is Mexican, and when we’re trying to decide where to go to eat, he almost always wants Chinese. Same with his family: when we recently visited some friends from Guadalajara, I was looking forward to some tortas ahogadas, but instead was served mu shu pork. Why do Mexicans like Chinese food so much?

Cuisine Confused in the I.E.

Dear Gabacha, Mexicans are eternally fascinated with Chinese, as this column has previously noted. Nothing piques our interest as much as the food. They eat what we eat: beans, pork, goat, turtles, rice, even dogs! But our interest in comida china boils down to economics, Cuisine Confused. Like Mexican food, Chinese is an ethnic cuisine where you can feast like a king on a day laborer’s salary. I can go to Hot Wok in Fullerton and order the three-item combo with fried rice, chow mein and a drink for about six bucks; not surprisingly, Mexicans fill up most of Hot Wok’s tables every time I visit. The value of Chinese food explains the popularity amongst Mexicans of instant ramen. According to the International Ramen Manufacturers Association, Mexicans consumed an average of 9.4 ramen servings in 2004, tops in Latin America and behind only the United States and Russia amongst non-Asian countries. Even the Mexican government distributes ramen to its poor . . . what’s that you say? Ramen is a Japanese dish? Don’t tell that to a Mexican, who believes anything Asian is chino even when it’s Japanese—right, Vietnamese readers?

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Dear Mexican, [some female readers asked]

Why do Mexican women dress up to go to the swap meet? …. Why do Mexicans put on their Sunday best to shop at Wal-Mart, Kmart, Target, etc.?

Dear Pochas,

… You gotta love our moms and aunts, ¿qué no? Despite living in abject conditions, never having enough money to purchase vaccines for the kids — let alone save up for a Prada this or Manolo that — Mexican women always primp themselves for something as simple as buying tortillas."

* * * *

Dear Mexican,

As an Asian person, would I be considered a gabacho? Or do I fall into the yellow bucket labeled chinito, even though I'm not Chinese?

Dear Chino, Like Americans assume all Latinos are Mexican, Mexicans think all Asians are chinos — Chinese. When I used to go out with a Vietnamese woman, my aunts would speak highly of mi chinita bonita — my cute little Chinese ruca…. Chinese were the Mexicans of the world before there even was a Mexico, migrating to Latin America a couple of decades after the fall of Tenochtitlán.