This list is pretty much what you'd expect, especially since the show has to appeal to a wide audience. On the whole, they did a pretty good job, catching a ton of one-hit wonders (like Sir-Mix-A-Lot and Vanilla Ice) and bands that had a little more staying power (like Nirvana, Pearl Jam and U2).
A list like this would be better if they were picking albums, because the single is almost never the best song on the album. And the show would be better if they didn't HAVE to do make every show with D-list comedians trying to make a career for themselves. Can anything stand on its own anymore? I don't care what Frangela thinks about Ice Cube. Not even a little bit.
I got to sit in one of the luxury boxes at the Rangers game tonight, instead of in my normal seats. It's always a treat to watch the game up there, with the free food and beverages and the clean, private bathroom. The box that we sat in tonight was right in front of this:
I always get a little sad when I see that, but then I see this:
That always makes me happy. Hopefully, in 6 months, we'll be seeing this:
Turns out there won't be a Borat II. From IMDb.com:
Sacha Baron Cohen has ditched his hapless alter-ego Borat following the phenomenal success of movie Borat: Cultural Learnings Of America For Make Benefit Glorious Nation Of Kazakhstan.
--snip--
But Cohen has decided to officially retire Borat - because the character is now so well-known, he'll never fool anybody into believing he's a real person again. Cohen says, "When I was being Ali G and Borat, I was in character sometimes 14 hours a day, and I came to love them, so admitting I am never going to play them again is quite a sad thing. It is like saying goodbye to a loved one. It is hard, and the problem with success, although it's fantastic, is that every new person who sees the Borat movie is one less person I 'get' with Borat again, so it's a kind of self-defeating form, really."
A quick message to all of the redneck idiots that filed a lawsuit against Cohen because he "tricked" them into showing America what redneck idiots they are: Thanks for ruining Christmas.
I'm back in the office today after my short vacation and some much needed time off. There was lots of stuff going on, so I figure I'll do a quick roundup here:
I saw two wonderful films yesterday: The Savages and Juno. With regard to The Savages, I've said it before and I'll say it again: Philip Seymour Hoffman is doing it better than just about anyone out there these days. Also, Laura Linney always plays a good character that's on the edge of a mental breakdown. As for Juno, if Michael Cera in real-life is nothing like Michael Cera the actor, he's even better than I thought. Both films are high recommendations.
Great article by George Vescey in this weekend's New York Times about the impact of the Mitchell Report. I've read quite a bit about the steroid stuff, but this is one of the best things that I've read so far. [Thanks, Rob.]
I won the office football pool this week in an 11-way tiebreak. Good times for me.
Maybe Next Year They'll Learn How To Hold Their Booze
In honor of the best holiday ever (i.e. I don't have to worry about family, I get to eat Chinese food, see a movie, listen to the music and watch the Yule Log), here's a YouTube of one of the most overlooked SNL TV Funhouse sketches of the last 5 years because it aired during the same episode as "Lazy Sunday." It's called "Christmastime for the Jews"
I'm writing to you from sunny Miami, FL, where I arrived Thursday morning at 2 A.M. thanks to an almost three hour delayed flight out of Newark. Very, very solid stuff.
Anyway, today we work our way toward the Port of Miami, where we'll be boarding a cruise ship for a little 3 day swing through the Islands of the Bahamas. Long time readers of this blog will remember my adventures there in early July. I'm looking forward to it because I'm coming back to a shitstorm at work on Wednesday.
We get back in New York on Monday night. On Tuesday, the Jews own the city, so we'll do what we always do: eat Chinese food, see a movie and then fall asleep before 10.
While I'm gone, please work your way over to Yankee Pot Roast. We've got some outstanding holiday-related fiction this week and next, before we take our year end hiatus, to reflect on another year of ugly, confrontational shouting matches.
Chris Simon's been suspended again, this time for 30 games. In the next logical step for a man with his level of restraint, Simon used his skated foot to chop at the foot of Pittsburgh Penguins player Jarkko Ruutu. Of course, we all remember Simon from this incident, and his numerous other infractions, including calling a half-black player a "nigger."
By all accounts, Simon is a "good guy" off the ice who has trouble dealing with his aggression in the heat of a hockey game. Hey, I get it. Hockey, like football, is a brutally physical sport. In the trenches, it's a constant struggle played by men that are unbelievable physical specimens. Those situations kind of beg for some sort of egregious behavior by some player that gets overzealous. Those players are dealt with and removed for a bit and (hopefully) show enough remorse that they don't engage in that behavior habitually.
Simon's been doing this for years. To this point, he's been lucky enough that one of his vicious attacks on someone hasn't resulted in the end of a career (or worse). What happens when he finally does critically injure someone? Is that what it's going to take before the just get him out of the game?
I guess Colin Campbell's willing to take that chance. I know that I wouldn't be.
Jamie Lynn Spears, sister of Britney, has announced that she's pregnant.
From the article in the New York Times:
Lynne Spears, already grandmother to Britney's young sons, told the magazine: ''I didn't believe it because Jamie Lynn's always been so conscientious. She's never late for her curfew. I was in shock. I mean, this is my 16-year-old baby.''
As though kids can only have sex after curfew.
Mrs. Spears actually had a parenting book due out. For some unknown reason, this project has been put on indefinite hold.
Google Earth is one of those Google products that makes me feel like the company is not only poised to take over today, but prepared to tell the story of yesterday however the hell they want, while they busy shaping tomorrow. On the heels of that paranoia, an art collective based in Sydney called the Glue Society has created pictures of Biblical events, as though they were taken by Google Earth.
They're pretty inventive and kind of cool. It also kind of makes me think about other events that may be would be cool, like the Battle of Gettysburg or my Bar Mitzvah.
The mustache contest has concluded, and by some fluke, I didn't win. Kudos to John Price, 2007 Mustache Champion of the Office. Here are a couple of snapshots of my 'stache. More to come when I get the full shots.
I don't know how I just saw this, but they're actually coming out with a Spider-Man musical! Even more amazingly (ridiculously?), Bono and The Edge are doing the music for it.
I'm beyond wondering how things get greenlit. It's pretty clear someone will throw money at just about anything. But if this stays open for more than 50 performances, then I'm U Thant.
Can anyone who reads this blog suggest a good book about 1960s pop culture? I'm looking for something that covers radio, television, toys, music, politics. Basically everything. I'm doing some research for a project that I'd like to get off the ground.
It's starting to get exciting around these parts. Nick, Josh and I met tonight and reviewed the copyedited version of our manuscript. There'll be one last review of the product, but this is essentially our last chance to make any kind of significant changes. That said, it's pretty much nailed down. We're making a few changes, but most of the red ink is about grammar, punctuation and spelling.
Also, we got some samples of the cover! I'm not at liberty to share them just yet, but suffice it to say that they came out much better than I was anticipating.
Let it be know that this place is the greatest vintage clothing store that I have ever been to. The outfit that I'm currently wearing is absolutely classic. It's so disgustingly 1970s that I'm surprised the clothing even still existed anywhere but a moth-ridden attic in somewhere in the Midwest.
My 1980s outfit isn't nearly as awesome, because the 1980s weren't nearly as awesome, but it'll work just fine. Thankfully, the Afro spanned the style in both decades, so that works on both ends.
Last night, John Mayer was on our flight to LA. My wife is exceptional at picking out famous people in public. The only guy I've ever recognized is Martin Landau. She pointed John Mayer out immediately. Apparently, he flies American Airlines at lot from LAX to JFK because he immediately said to the woman behind the counter, "I owe you tickets."
Strangely enough, other than the fact that we're both white males, John Mayer and I have something in common that I wouldn't have guessed in a million years. We both have dogs that are half-Yorkie. That's right, US Weekly. I just scooped your ass.
I think my wife's hands were quivering in the presence of such boyish good looks. And John Mayer's pretty good looking too (ba-zing). In any event, the picture is blurry and dark, but here it is.
Hiding Up In The Mountains, Laying Low In The Canyons
Do either of my readers know the lyric in the title?
One of the wife's best friends is turning 30, so we're heading out to the coast for a little party in celebration of that. The party is a 1970s themed party (as that is the decade of her birth), so I'm on the look out for some bell-bottomed pants as well as any jacket made from vinyl. I'm hoping to find an afro wig also, if only so I can yell "Mr. Kot-tear" every 15 minutes without people looking at me like I'm nuts (anymore than they do ordinarily).
The party will also be of the roller-skating variety, and I'm pretty psyched to show off my skills on wheels. I'm not getting and rollerblade/in-line skates either. I'm going straight, four wheel in each corner, old school skates.
There will be refreshments served. There will also be pictures.
My staff of amazing people bought me Guitar Hero III for my birthday/Hanukkah. They are so completely beyond awesome that it's hard to describe.
I spent a good two and half hours rocking out last night. The game is amazing. I'd played I and II on the Playstation before, so I was familiar with the game, but I'm also completely awful at it. I'm getting a little better, but I'm on the easy level.
My goal this month was to get one post up every single day, but I think that might have just been shot to hell.
Nobody Ever Went Broke Underestimating the Intelligence of Sherri Shepherd
Every once in a while, I get on my high horse on this blog and I discuss the declining intelligence of America. I pull up some article about some redneck that named himself "Bubba Bubba Bubba" and we all have a good laugh at that idiot's expense. Everyone has a good time, and I feel just a little more superior.
However, Tyler Durden has some shit today that really needs no introduction. I'll quote his blurb, and then leave the rest to you to watch:
This morning on "the View", during a discussion about Epicurus, (the Greek philosopher who was born in 341 BC and died in 270 BC) Sherri Shepherd - who was last seen saying she didn't know if the world was flat - says that nothing predates the Christians. She follows that up by saying nothing predates Jesus. And she may be onto something. Remember those cave drawings of Jesus on a dinosaur at the first Olympics? History and science, it's all coming together now!
Yes, that's correct. This woman is on national TV.
About 6 years ago, I went out to this bar in the meatpacking district (I can't remember the name of it, though I'm pretty sure it had a number in it. Either way, it's probably closed by now, because nothing like that ever stays open for more than a couple of years). My friend was throwing a party there, so we had the whole downstairs to ourselves. There was the usual senseless debauchery and some debauchery even more senseless than that, and eventually it was time to go.
I'm on my way out of the bar and I look to my left and by the door with a beer in his hand and a cigarette hanging off of his mouth (this was before the smoking ban was in effect in NYC) was Macaulay Culkin. I'm never starstruck and I certainly wasn't in the face of that schmuck, but I remember thinking to myself, "The kid that was in Home Alone is standing right there drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette." I was probably drunk (I was drunk a lot back then), but I remember having a lot of difficulty reconciling the fact that this dude was in a crappy Christmas movie for kids but also getting wasted in front of me. I stood there for a couple of minutes looking at him, and I remember wanting to tell him to go fuck himself, but I didn't.
It's Fricking Freezing Out There, Mr. Bigglesworth
Central Park has this unofficial rule that dogs don't have to be on leashes before 9 AM, so we woke up a little early this morning and took Webster out for a little run off of the leash in his first snow. He didn't have all of his shots until March/April, so even though he's been alive for a full winter, he'd never been out in the snow. The best part about a snowy day in the park is that no one's out there, only other people with dogs and militant, hardcore joggers.
As always, I was an idiot and didn't bring the camera, but a took a couple of quick snapshots with my phone.
I finally got around to watching the new Futurama film that was released on DVD on Tuesday. I dug it. My brother pointed out that it kind of negates a couple of the episodes that had already aired, which is probably true, although they could probably work around these paradoxes as well. There were quite a few funny lines. Bender never disappoints, in terms of getting me laughing and Zoidberg (who they keep referring to by his full name "John Zoidberg") also had me rolling a couple of times, even though some of his lines are predictable.
It's a little disappointing, and it's nowhere near as good as the 1999/2000 episodes, but it pretty easily killed my Saturday. On the whole, it's worth a watch.
