ridiculous, yet also kinda punk

ridiculous because: Tom Jones (yes that short welsh dude who has panties thrown at him alot) has had his chest hair (!) insured by Lloyd's of London for 7 million dollars. thats right 7 mill. i wonder what has to happen to his chest hair for him to get the payout. attack by a rabid fan with Nair? going gray? turning green from a combination of dye, tanning stuff, and pool chemicals? an allergic reaction to chest hair plumping product that makes it fall out? what would be considered an act of god, therefore relieving the insurers from having to pay?

kinda punk because: he convinced these people to insure his chest hair. CHEST HAIR! that took some smooth talking and in a way deconstructing the myth of celebrity and rockstardom by exemplifying the utter ridiculousness of their lives, as well as the skewed vision of what is important and their worth. um . . . i kid.

also: who convinced him this would be a good idea? do the really old ladies who still love him really care about his chest hair? would they really stop seeing his shows if he lost all the hair tomorrow? why does he still take his shirt off? were the guys who drew up this policy high? how were they convinced they would make their money back? what is the insurance premium on this policy?

a very guilty pleasure

its a sad sad thing. as always, i am on the lookout for a new procrastinating tool. i have just recently discovered project runway. gasp! it is so bad that its good. unfortunately for me, i have to get it all from my umbilical cord, the internet. and thank goodness for the invention of youtube. what makes it even better is that there are seasons - yes multiples- for me to use in my efforts to waste my life and time. perrrrrfect-a!

and to add the cherry- apparently there is project runway Canada. hosted by iman. her delivery is a bit weird but hey, how could i not love the spouse of D.bowie.

all i can say is my life is worth living and eventually, those chapters will be read and papers written.

say it aint so

is there nothing sacred left? am i to have no illusions? i was flabbergasted, weirded out, and disillusioned at this. bill nye is the science guy! he is not supposed to be bill nye, the fraudulent marriage, crazy ex-wife/girlfriend poisioning the roses (the new bunny boiling?) and possibly him, needing a restraining order guy.

what is next? hafta say that thought bill nye was crazy awesome back in the day.

ahhh, the phila-poo-poo

reading the nytimes style section (my way of pretending that i'm bettering myself while wallowing in my shallowness) i saw a mention of a new tv show coming out called the "age of love"

whenever i go to church (an almost annual occurrence) i find myself praying and asking god when will the reality show craze end!?! apparently s/he doesnt listen to my prayers much (or i really should ask for more worthwhile things, you know - like for that ginormous zit on my cheek to go away) because shows like age of love and things involving donald trump abound.

apparently the star of age of love is mark philippoussis a greek-australian tennis star - and i use the word star in the very loosest form of the word. i had forgotten about philapoopoo until this forcibly brought him to my attention since "tennis star" faded a while ago. a few years ago i saw him play in Dubai (i have to say that i freakin' luuuv the tennis. its very zen in a 'wow i just lost 3 hours watching a little green ball' sort of way) when he was closer to the top of his game. this dude is like 6'4" and from a purely female perspective he is absolutely lovely. but that joy faded with the utter and total horrendousness of his ability (luckily, being crap means a short match). he lost to some belgian dude shorter than me because he could not serve over the net!!! thereby double faulting. heck, i could have won even with my incredibly poor hand eye coordination, lack of spatial/depth perception, and inability to not stumble over my feet.

now he is trying to find the 'love' of his life on a reality show, which seems like a really really good idea. he must be more popular than this in australia, right? on the other hand, we could thank him as this could turn out to simply be an extremely long PSA - kinda like an after school special but with lots of self-aggrandizing behavior, debasement, desperation, cleavage and the possibility of spreading STDs thereby encouraging the kiddies to finish high school lest they wind up in such dire straights.

the church of stop shopping

just read about the Church of Stop Shopping here and i like it! this group (its not actually a church) is using the televangelist and politically comic model (like the Daily Show) to spread the word about the negative affects of globalization and the free market. i think most of us dont realize how we perpetuate a form of slavery by doing things like drinking massively expensive coffees at places like Starbucks, who drive down the prices of the raw coffee and pocket huge profits. E.g. Ethiopian farmers receive $0.86 of the $26 Starbucks charges for 1 pound of Ethiopian Sidamo coffee. plus, i know this maybe heresy to some, but i dont understand the allure of starbucks anyway. the deserts are just not that tasty.

sure a market economy is a great thing - i like having the variety of choices available - but is really when its at the expense of people in poor countries? buy fair trade if you can (starbucks now offers fair trade at some locations) for as many products as you can and support your local businesses so have a little more individuality in our worlds and lives. you can find out more information about reverend billy here. the dude who brought you Supersize Me is making a movie, to be out soon, about Reverend Billy called What Would Jesus Buy? the Fair Trade Foundation can be found here (there are other organizations)

i now descend from my soapbox (i cant help it when i get into teacher mode).

i cant believe its so scary

yes yes, i cant believe its so scary! please you must go here. this is a promotion by i cant believe its not butter using Fabio. Yes, Fabio! that hunka hunk of scary overly tanned Italian flesh who used to grace the covers of romance books. fill out the form and he will call you with a very special message.

ahh. . . bliss . . . fabio. . .

cant even tell you how sad i am that he doesnt make international phone calls (Why! God, Why!). i previously thought we was dead or bits had started falling off, consequently making him hideously scary and he had to retreat from the public eye. (un)fortunately for many, i was wrong and he is still around - blessing all with his shirt unbuttoned to show us his chest waxed to smoothy goodness, highlighted locks, and most (not) sexy accent. Sigh . . . .

singin' an' dancin'

Some may have, in the past, heard me discuss my fear and loathing of the genre known as the musical. i love music and love movies but together, they form a somewhat lethal combination (not unlike a speedball but without the fun). today i eat my words - provisionally of course.

I got together with some friends to bring a little Indian culture into our nite. we ordered indian food (which was heavenly though the restaurant took 2 1/2 hours to deliver it, making me seriously miss my Indian jiffy in the UAE) and watched a Bollywood film. for those who aint in the know - bollywood is the Indian film industry located in Mumbai (Bombay) and actually has a greater yearly output than hollywood. Bollywood also specializes in over the top (by western standards) musical love stories.

we saw one called Kal Ho Naa Ho which involves a love triangle between a young woman with family problems, a dying man, and wannabe playboy who is working on his MBA. by the way this is all a comedy. i mean its awesome!! i cant even describe it because it is indescribable to our hollywood sentiments. the singing isnt irritating at all - most likely - cause am reading the song lyrics simultaneously and laughing at their ridiculousness (music, generally, just isnt as sublime when the mystery is removed from the lyrics). the movie is like a combination of Grease, miracle on 34th st, when harry met sally, and saturday night fever - but rated G. there are cooky family members, songs about ethnic pride, blazing intense colors, mistaken identity, a crazy best friend, dancing on tables, a gold digger, and lots of poking fun of cultural stereotypes - Indian and otherwise. there were also covers of the songs Pretty Woman and its time to disco (abba hit). both recognizable but with vastly different lyrics. its great.

so now am all about the bollywood musical (new 5 minute obsession).

actually i would really enjoy the musical thing in real life if the people around me would get with the program. i mean, when i walk down the street singing and dancing, people dont jump in formation behind me, synchronized with my movements. as always, i continue to give all ample opportunities to wise up, but they only stare at me instead. philistines!!!!

montage - the way to go

just watched another thrilling episode of csi:miami. and i have to say the whole solve a crime in one day so we dont have to have wardrobe changes is getting a little to much. i mean i understand the need to cut back and save money and all but really!

scientific procedures that take five minutes. they must learn to give up the illusion of time passing. they must take the advice offered here - which looks at the various uses of montage in many great 80s movies. though i was under 10 when these movies came out, i was incredibly discerning and still they fooled me every time. i always believed in our heros ability to overcome insurmountable odds to win. plus its pretty darn funny.

gluttony karma

i have been an entourage glutton and am being paid back. as an hbo show it has half the length of a regular season. i have basically seen everything. now will have to wait and download piecemeal which sucks. i dont like the slow and steady satisfaction of a regular season but prefer binging. everything is better as a binge.

plus how will i occupy myself when am on my misanthropic binge. i spent TWO days in constant company of my friend while we were traveling and i now need to people decompress.

oh well. i may soon descend into madnass.