Archive for the I Heart Funny Femmes Category

DWTS Exploited My Weakness for Cho

Posted in Fame & Celebrity, Goof & Glamour, Got My TV Eye On You, I Heart Funny Femmes, I Heart Robots, I like big butts & I can not lie, Strange Science, Style & Fashion, Technicolor Pop, Top 2% of Coolest Mofos, TV with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 21, 2010 by alphabetfiend

When I first heard that Margaret Cho was on the new cast for DWTS, I was in the Austin audience at Margaret Cho’s performance at The Paramount. She was kvetching about being sore from all the dance practice.

My initial response was “Crap, now I have to watch that shit n’ shinola. Dancing with the stars? Ugg.”

Yet another reminder to never say never.

“Why must you?” you ask. Well, because I love Cho more than I hate DWTS. DUH! Don’t you?

C’mon! We gotta take Cho when and where we can get her. Whether it’s on Lifetime’s schlocky yet charming series Drop Dead Diva, doing the tango on DWTS, or live at The Paramount.

Plus we’ll get to see her mom, which features prominently and hilariously in Cho’s stand-up.

Now that I’ve resigned myself to my pitiful fate, I hafta say I’m really looking forward to seeing Cho in sparkles, sequins and spandex. While performing her stand-up, she was already sporting a street-wear version of DWTS style. She wore a loose silky tunic — one-shoulder, sequined — that showed off her gorgeous shoulder tats. She paired the sparkly tunic with American Apparel’s metallic spandex leggings in spaceship silver; grounding the get-up with a great pair of ass-kicker boots. Mmm. Rugged and mmm soft buttery leather and mmm.

Sorry. My clothes-lust kinda took over for a second there. Lemme wipe the drool from my chin and we’ll move on.

I’m gonna enjoy seeing her twice a week for as long as this lasts. Once she’s booted, I’ll be free but I’ll be bummed.

I just hope she does the Robot. Cause that would totally rock.

No go show Cho some love! Give her some sugars! Form a rallying crowd for her to surf through. Join Team Van-Cho. GO!

TBA/Quintron & Miss Pussycat Holdover (Sunday PM Punk Rock Gospel)

Posted in Dork Alert, I Heart Funny Fellas, I Heart Funny Femmes, I Heart My Love-Tribe, In Celebration of the Absurd, Music & Life & Sundays, punk rock, Rock & Roll, Sunday AM Punk Rock Gospel, Technicolor Pop, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 25, 2010 by alphabetfiend

Mornin’ lovers… I bow my head before you, blue curls a blur of bedhead bedlam.  I am thunderstruck, drowsy….contrite.

Did you notice the PM in today’s title?

Ah. Blame it on the road, on the lure of the highway, on gas stations, on rainbows in oil puddles!  

Blame it on Hruskas (hybrid bakery/chevron) for making delectable yum-yums that had us rearranging our return date not once, not twice but three times. These suckers sell out fast and getting the really good stuff is some sort of competitive sport. Seriously! But oh it’s worth it. Egg sandwich — ooey gooey goodness — on fresh-baked croissant with a home-cut off-kilter slab of ham. And then there’s the cherry cream cheese kolaches that could maybe make a nympho nun cum.

Blame it on the baby with a sticky face, calling my name loud & clear from across the room; who later cried and cried until I untied my cupcake apron and offered up my lap as safe harbor. Blame it on the tears that dissolved into hiccups as I read about the pigeon who wanted a puppy but then met a real life slobbery pup and decided a walrus was a more practical choice.

Blame it on my own pups, let loose in the country, romping in the warm green Mississippi grass.

Blame it on Quintron & Miss Pussycat playing a Saturday night show in New Orleans in the old Shim Sham Club (you’ll always be Shim Sham to me xoxo.)

Blame it on Miss Pussycat’s puppets!

No.

Don’t frame the puppets.

Poor poor puppets.

Isn’t their lot quite a lot as it is?

It’s all the fault of rowdy pups & raucous thunderclaps which cause one pink-nosed pitbull to cower behind my protective legs.

Or maybe it’s the pelting rain and electric zigzags which keep knocking me offline?

OK. OK. Chalk it up to summery sloth.

I’m off to slumber, all sleepyhead fulla surprises.

Surprises?

The gospel — still in draft — is nearly written and the song is chosen but I’m not tellin’.

It’s a good one and it’s my gift to give — I know how some of you are with your google! You’d google Santa right off his sleigh if you could.

No, no, come back later and let me give you a belated gift. Oh, I’m giddy!

 

But I want it to be perfect and so I’ll wait… for a less-cloudy sky and a less-foggy mind.

In the meantime, for your patience, here’s a crazy wonderful surreal treat from Quintron & Miss Pussycat: “Mardi Gras in the Center of the Earth.”

More surprises? Clue: “Blue”… Look for it! (Any guesses?)

The Party’s Over — Starz (stupidly) Cancels “Party Down”

Posted in I Heart Funny Fellas, I Heart Funny Femmes, Star F*#ker, Technicolor Pop, TV, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 4, 2010 by alphabetfiend

My highschool sweetheart worked for a catering company during the four years we were together, which means he used to come home stinking like prime beef and twice-baked potatoes, looking EXACTLY like the cast of “Party Down.” Same white shirt, same black pants, same pink bow-tie. I’d lie in bed watching for his headlights on my ceiling, exhaling as he pulled into the driveway. We had only a few stolen moments before he’d be expected home, just long enough for a quick whiff of that bow-tied nape and crusty shirt. Mmmm. That catering job afforded him many opportunities for romance. 

While cleaning up, he’d sometimes pocket discarded wedding favors or sachets of hershey kisses. I’d ooh and ahh as though I’d always yearned for my very own ceramic swan-couple, dual necks curving into a heart.  One night he called to say he hadn’t had time to stop by and could I please bring his shoes in from the porch because it was raining and surely they’d smell like ass if left in the rain? Disappointed, grumbly and thinking “Those shoes already smell like ass,” I wound down the dark stairs. There, on the covered porch, with the rain pelting the eaves, was at least a dozen different flower arrangements in creamy shades of peach & pink. In the spirit of young love, the bride had gifted them to my beau. He’d coasted into my drive with his lights off, knowing my tendency to watch the ceiling, and had carried them on tip-toe to the porch. How, I don’t know! It took me nearly an hour to drag them all inside. In the morning my younger siblings were amazed at the almost funereal floral display, certain I must be a princess with my very own prince.

I sooo wanted to write an episode of “Party Down,” recreating that moment of recycled romance, but that will never happen now thanks to stupid stupid Starz execs. 

Starz has cancelled the clever show about pink-collar workers.

It’s kind of infuriating actually, not just because I’ll never get to try my hand at that script, but because it was a good show with a great cast and endless possibilities. Cast members could come and go and yet it made perfect sense because the service industry is like that. Each episode featured a different catered event there were amazing opportunities for cameos or guest-star turns.

The cast was a hilarious ensemble of comedic talent:

* Megan Mullally (pill-popping Karen from Will & Grace)

*Jane Lynch (Sue the lunatic cheerleading coach on Glee; Joyce the love-lorn lesbo lawyer on L-Word.)

*You probably recognized Ken Marino from funny projects like Reno 911, Stella and The State (as well as will-act-for-food gigs on Angel, Charmed or Dawson’s Creek.)

*I really liked Casey’s Lizzy Caplan in a short-lived sitcom called The Class but you’re more likely to remember the actress  from Alan Ball’s HBO vampire hit True Blood — Caplan played Amy, the crazy cracky nut-job who dated Jason (Sookie’s bro) and couldn’t get enough vamp-blood.

*The always goofy Jennifer Coolidge who went through various transformations — and monikers — on Nip/Tuck.

*Kristen Bell (Heroes, Veronica Mars)

*The funny-as-shit Ken Jeong (Community, the movie Hang-over and Million Dollar Strong, Jeong’s hip hop project with Mike O’Connell.)

*Perhaps most exciting of all, Martin Starr is all grown up since his days as the terminally nerdy Bill in Freaks & Geeks (another BRILLIANT but canceled show which has gained cult status since its unceremonial cancellation after just one AWESOME season.)

In addition to all the talent on-screen, actor Paul Rudd was a contributing creator of “Party Down.” It’s hard to believe that Starz would cancel a show with so much critical acclaim and buzz. It’s not like the cable network has much else to offer in the way of original programming. Sure, not a lot of people were watching the show but that’s because no one had heard about it. People were finding out! Viewership would’ve increased over time. These networks expect us to have patience as they present new programming but they have no patience themselves. It’s no wonder that more and more people are waiting to watch stuff on DVD or Hulu rather than subject themselves to some new un-proven show on primetime or risk falling for a mystery-riddled drama that will only be canceled before the mystery’s been solved (Flash Forward, Happy Town.)

Grr. They did two seasons of Party Down so if you haven’t seen all or any, you still have some partying to do. May I offer you a couple of tasty hordeurves?

“When I’m in nature I usually drop a cap,” featuring Jennifer Coolidge

“It’s not fate, it’s a mistake” with Martin Starr (It’s Bill from Freaks & Geeks, only BIG!)

Silverman Gives the Word “Diva” a XXX Smackdown (adult content)

Posted in Fame & Celebrity, Fur Reals, I Heart Funny Femmes with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on May 29, 2010 by alphabetfiend

 

Fine. Wave off yer ignorance with a flick of your plastic talons.

Cause you gotta have yer way cause yer a diva. 

Well, bitch, then you had better be able to belt out an aria.

 

Luckily, I’m no longer alone in my aggravation cause once again Sarah Silverman says what we’re all thinking. This time, in song. 

If you call yourself a diva, you better be a singer, and not somebody cutting me in line. 

If you call yourself a diva, you better sing a solo, and not be someone treating me unkind.

I kinda wanna purchase that patch — “Crossword Diva League” — cause it’s cool enough with the curvy lady and the old skool look. I kinda wanna stitch it on my engineers cap cause I love crossword puzzles and I want the world to know it. However, I don’t want the world to think I’m a stupid bitch. And so you see my dilemma. No self-respecting crossword freakette could call herself a diva, not when she’s faced twice daily with the word’s true meaning. When the clue involves the word “diva” then the answer always has to do with opera and never with self-entitled bitchery.
Look up “diva” in the dictionary. The word applies to female operatic stars or (more recently) it extends to distinguished female singers who are long time legendary power houses like Aretha Franklin or Diana Ross. Sure there’s the prima donna addendum but who wants that? Who wants to be a mere pain-in-the-ass post-script?
Down with those bitches who call themselves Divas — excusing a lack of manners with a word that is supposed to denote a presence of talent.

Wearing leopard print does not make you a diva.

Neither does your rhinestone-crusted blackberry.

And that glitter graphic on your myspace page? Gulp. Please no! Not another one!

What does make you a diva?

Well, do you have an absolutely legendary ability to sing your fucking ass off? Have you taken a bow as the curtain closed at the Met? Does the crowd roar and send thorny roses hurling to the stage like arrows shot from Eros’ bow?

No? Then you’re no diva. 

 

Now this fabulous bitch, she’s a damn diva. (Yes, that’s right. Divas can be bitches but bitches aren’t divas.)

People are always shining me on with the word “Diva” (as a compliment or as an explanation for my tiara) but I don’t take a shine to it. I sing in the car, with the top down and the volume up, and I sing loud. But I’m not the fat lady y’all are waiting on.

Sing it, Sarah!

If you call yourself a diva, it better be for reals, and not just some sad pathetic kind of front.

You’re selfish and your thoughtless and you’re broken and you’re heartless.

You’re probably not a diva, you’re a cunt.

Vanity Fair Cover: Tina Fey As a Patriotic Pin-up

Posted in I Heart Funny Femmes, Star F*#ker with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 18, 2008 by alphabetfiend

“The collective consciousness has said, ‘Tina, dahling, where have you been? Where on earth have you been?”’ — Alec Baldwin

The article featured in The January Issue of Vanity Fair  was a great meeting of the minds. The geek’s vixen (Maureen Dowd) interviewed the smart alec’s sex-pot (Tina Fey.)

Maureen Dowd interviewing Tina Fey? Hell yea! Sexy bitch to sexy bitch. It was also long and juicy, touching on Fey’s career, marriage, childhood and motherhood. It discussed what many think of as Fey’s fairy tale ugly ducking to swan transformation (although not everyone buys into the “Yay! Fey lost 30 lbs!” thang.  Myself, for example, and Fey’s hubby think she was just damn fine yum before.) The article also revealed that Fey was the childhood victim of violence via a disfiguring attack by a stranger. The latter was one of  several new things I learned about Fey.

On the duh duh duh “She’s sure perty”  front, the magazine satisfies. Although I was hoping for more pin-up style photos inside. Fey looks lovely in her little black dress but I dig the over-the-top goofiness of the cover and always love a fun costumey celeb spread.

Tina Fey looks so sexy-licious on the cover of January’s Vanity Fair.

So seriously sassy that it makes me want to stand up and salute. 

I ask not what can Tina Fey can do for me but what I can do for Tina Fey.

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Determined to get in good with Tina — a charming ” prude/lewd split personality” — Maureen Down wooed the famous Fey with sweets.

Her true vice is cupcakes. I’ve brought her a box, one frosted with the face of Sarah Palin. She chooses that one.

Fey wasn’t shy about choosing the biggest one or about chowing down on Sarah Palin. Fey isn’t trying to be a 90210 beauty but she does confess to striving for a more 212 NYC area-code kinda fetching.

She wanted to be “PBS pretty”—pretty for a smart writer.

She shed 30 — acceptable in Chicago pounds — and I dunno, waxed some stuff. Put on some glasses or changed her glasses. Supposedly went from a Nottie to a Hottie. What-ev. I was kinda blah on that aspect of the article. I don’t think Fey got fantastic through sheer force of Natzi-esque will. I call bullshit! Surely she was something special all along. Steve Higgins, an S.N.L. producer, attests to the come-hither having come with her all the way from Chi-town.

When she got here she was kind of goofy-looking, but everyone had a crush on her because she was so funny and bitingly mean.

The make-over Fey gave herself was subtle…. fortunately for the gnads of nerds everywhere. Tina Fey went from Geek to Geek-Chic. That whole pencil skirt & pencil stuck in a messy up-do look. Michael Specter, a New Yorker writer,  is glad she kept her look whip-smart calling Fey

“the sex symbol for every man who reads without moving his lips.”

Fey’s husband and long-time love, Jeff Richmond, wistfully describes Fey in “her pre-glamour-puss days, back in Chicago.”

She was quite round in a lovely, turn-of-the-century kind of round—that beautiful, Rubenesque kind of beauty. She used to wear crazy boots. She would wear knee-length frumpy dresses with thrift-store sweaters. It still looked kind of cool on her.

Richmond thought he and Fey made a good couple and not just because they both gobbled sandwiches with great abandon or laughed at Gary Shandling but because they’re off-beat beauty was complementary. At 5 feet three and one-half inches, Richmond was retro.

I used to get all my suits in thrift stores, because I realized I was the size of little old men who were dying

Dowd writes of how the handsome couple “fell in love quickly, soon after a Sunday afternoon spent together at Chicago’s Museum of Science and Industry.”

Fey dead-panned, “We walked into a model of the human heart”

 Fey and Richmond seem to enjoy a “borderline-boring” marriage that thrives on communication, honesty and clear-cut rules.

“I know how she feels about some things, like, we never had to deal with any of this, but: adultery. Anything like that, messing around, is just such a complete ‘No’ to her. And she has her principles and she sticks to her principles more than anybody I’ve ever met in my life. Like that whole idea of, if you are in a relationship, there are deal breakers. There’s not a lot of gray area. “

They’ve never had to deal with adultery, in part I’m sure, because loyalty is they EXPECT from each other and there’s an expectation of serious consequences if they don’t do right. Fey expects Richmond to be a good guy because that’s what she WANTS in a man.

 “I don’t have that kind of ‘I love the bad guys’ thing. No, no thank you. I like nice people.”

Maureen Dowd was privy to a conversation — “woven with intimacy, the easy banter of a couple who knew each other long before fame hit” — between Fey and her “puckish” hubby.

“When we were first dating,” Richmond says, harking back to Chicago in 1994, “some of the guys at Second City said, ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be a hoot if we go over—”’

“‘—over to the Doll House,”’ Fey finishes. “‘We’ll go to this strip club ironically.’ I was like, ‘The fuck you will.”’

That had me chuckling cause: 

A) what a lucky lucky lad is Richmond to have Fey saying “The fuck you will” to him. Yum.

B) My abode, my home, has been known as “The Doll House” for years since back in the day when my roomies and I had a prank pretend punk band called “The Dollies” but now even brand new friends take to it quickly because, well, frankly I look like a doll. Not a stripper but an actual doll… think kewpie, not Barbie. After years of being called “Dollface” from every random someone — the butcher, the baker & the candlestick maker — I’ve finally embraced it (the right person started calling me DF I guess.) Sooooo my house has the same name as the strip club Fey’s man was forbidden (verboten) to enter? Well that’s just the best.

Fey likes to laugh at strippers not ogle them. She doesn’t wanna put dollars into their g-strings and she wants you to not want to either. She wants strippers to stop shaking their money makers and instead study art history in college. She wants them to put  down their sky-high lucite heels and pick up books, instruments (Fey played the flute) or easels. Why? Cause we’re better than that, she claims.

“I love to play strippers and to imitate them. I love using that idea for comedy, but the idea of actually going there? I feel like we all need to be better than that. That industry needs to die, by all of us being a little bit better than that.”

If Fey thinks we’re better than that then maybe we should try to be better. Maybe we should stand up and do right. There’s a lot of talk about Fey’s Germanic love of law & order (S.N.L. alum Colin Quinn calls Fey “Herman the German.”) Dowd can see why –” She’s a sprite with a Rommel battle plan.” Fey is a fan of Leni Riefanstahl’s auto-bio which at 669 pages is a thorough look into the Hitler-touched Natzi Propaganada filmmaker whose movies such as Triumph of the Will have been the river from which political propaganda feeds.

“If she hadn’t been so brilliant at what she did, she wouldn’t have been so evil, she was like, in the book, ‘He was the leader of the country. Who was I not to go?’ And it’s like, Note to self: Think through the invite from the leader of your country.”

As Mary Tyler Moore and Betty White were giving out the Emmy for outstanding comedy series, Fey found herself coveting the award or rather the actual physical statuette that would be passed from their hands to hers.

“I had this visceral thing of, like, I want them to gimme that! I want to get that from those ladies!”

Symbolism was not lost on the Emmy deities.

Within moments 30 Rockwas called and she went up onstage, glowing in a strapless eggplant mermaid David Meister gown, to take the Emmy from the two women who had provided the template for her own show. It was a dazzling Cinderella moment (except for Fey’s purse getting stolen while she was onstage). She got her own slipper, writing and willing herself into the role, and the shoe wasn’t glass. It was a silver Manolo Blahnik.

What kind of total a-hole would steal Tina Fey’s purse while she was accepting her well-deserved symbol-soaked Emmy?

 Although that a-hole aint nothin’ compared to the sicko psycho who slashed a child’s face.

Liz Lemon favors her right side. That’s because a faint scar runs across Tina Fey’s left cheek, the result of a violent cutting attack by a stranger when Fey was five. Her husband says, “It was in, like, the front yard of her house, and somebody who just came up, and she just thought somebody marked her with a pen.” You can hardly see the scar in person. But I agree with Richmond that it makes Fey more lovely, like a hint of Marlene Dietrich noir glamour in a Preston Sturges heroine.

“That scar was fascinating to me,” Richmond recalls. “This is somebody who, no matter what it was, has gone through something. And I think it really informs the way she thinks about her life. When you have that kind of thing happen to you, that makes you scared of certain things, that makes you frightened of different things, your comedy comes out in a different kind of way, and it also makes you feel for people.”

The violent attack Fey suffered at the hands of a sadistic stranger and the scars that still remain were by far the most riveting part of the article. It’s illuminating. On so many levels. I’m a much bigger fan of Fey’s than I was before and readers of this blog know how I loves me some Fey.

Marci Klein—the cool, tall, blonde executive producer of 30 Rock and producer of S.N.L., and the daughter of Calvin Klein—who was kidnapped for 10 hours when she was 11, remembers, “Tina said to me, ‘Well, you know, Marci, we had the Bad Thing happen to us. We know what it’s like.”’

I too am someone who had what Fey calls THE BAD THING happen. My heart broke for that child and her soft cheek and then my heart soared to see yet again how those traumas set people on a special path. Such an intense experience can have an almost shamanic quality, shaking a person up in such a way that they are transformed. There’s an alchemy that comes from healing, from making something like that into something new and better for yourself…experiencing it and then surviving it is a psychological vision quest that us “victims” are lucky to go on. Does it suck that it happened to her? YES. Is that part of Fey’s magic? No doubt.

That said, I can see why Fey “rarely mentions the episode” and continues to struggle with it, sometimes even when she’s not expecting it to resurface.

 “It’s impossible to talk about it without somehow seemingly exploiting it and glorifying it,” says Fey

She used therapy to cope with her extremely fearful reaction to the anthrax attack at 30 Rock shortly after 9/11—the first time her co-workers had seen her vulnerable. The therapist talked to her about 9/11 and the anthrax delivered to Tom Brokaw’s office, linking them to the crime against her when she was little. “It’s the attack out of nowhere,” Fey says. “Something comes out of nowhere, it’s horrifying.”

When asked how that little kid trauma has affected her now that she’s mama to her own kiddie, Fey seemed prepared for some potentially rough times.

“Supposedly, I will go crazy. My therapist says, ‘When Alice is the age that you were, you may go crazy.”’

But then again Fey may just be okay, having been willing to explore it through therapy as well as through art. She’s processed it — at least creatively.

Liz Lemon’s blustery Republican boss, Jack Donaghy, played with comic genius by Alec Baldwin, tells Lemon, “I don’t know what happened in your life that caused you to develop a sense of humor as a coping mechanism. Maybe it was some sort of brace or corrective boot you wore during childhood, but in any case I’m glad you’re on my team.”

Plus there’s the fact that Fey doesn’t have much patience for drama or crazy. Dowd asks her if she ever counsels Lindsay Lohan, Tracy Morgan or Alec Baldwin.

“I have no enabler bone in my body—not one. I’m sort of like, ‘Oh, are you going crazy? I’ll be back in an hour.'”

Janeane Garofalo, in a recent interview in Geek Monthly, talked about being a now lefty who came from a righty-whitey background. Tina Fey came from a similar situation.

“I grew up in a family of Republicans. And when I was 18 and registering to vote, my mom’s only instruction was “You just go in and pull the big Republican lever.” That’s my welcome to adulthood. She’s like, “No, don’t even read it. Just pull the Republican lever.”

Which makes me wonder what are those Repub’s feeding their daughters to make them so damn funny? A buncha bullshit, I s’pose. Both comediennes have come a long way from those right-wing roots and are nows forces to reckoned with in leftist or Democratic politics. Garofalo has “liberal” inked into her flesh — them’s fightin’ words! — like the new bad-ass biker tat. Fey announced she would be leaving the planet if McCain-Palin won the White House. Thanks, in part, to Fey’s masterful skewering of Palin, no one has to be shot into space. While Fey isn’t known for her impressions, it was clear the universe wanted her to ape Palin. It’s one of those mysterious ways in which the world works.  Said Master SNL  Impresario, Darrell Hammond:

“I’ve never seen a better impression. If they put those two on a sonar, they would match up electronically.”

Speaking of those mysterious ways, Adam McKay (who wrote some of the Fey as Palin S.N.L.sketches) pointed out the absurd perfection of the whole Fey as Palin thang.

“It is the most ridiculous, borderline-dangerous thing that the Republican vice-presidential nominee happened to look like the funniest woman working in America.” 

(***View video of Tina Fey’s photo shoot for this month’s Vanity Fair.)

Amy Poehler sez “Sayonara” to SNL

Posted in I Heart Funny Femmes, Technicolor Pop with tags , , , , , on December 14, 2008 by alphabetfiend

Amy Poehler is leaving SNL and tonight at the Weekend Update desk she thanked her SNL fans.

She’s supposed to be on an Office spin-off.

It will probably be funny as hell but I’ll miss her on SNL.

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Amy was ready to go though.

It’s gonna be really hard — Boyz II Men hard — to say goodbye. SNL was dangerous, late-night, last-minute and star-studded, but like any good drug, you need to know when to put it down.

She probably wanted to spend more time with that new baby too… the child she shares with funny hubby Will Arnett. Little Archie Arnett!

House Rocks the House on SNL

Posted in I Heart Funny Femmes, Technicolor Pop with tags , , , , , , , , , , on December 14, 2008 by alphabetfiend

Hugh Laurie hosted the holiday episode of SNL.

Kanye West was the musical guest.

It was an interesting pairing.

Hugh Laurie plays an arrogant a-hole on TV and Kanye West is the real life thing. 

aaa

Hugh Laurie could not withstand the foul-mouthed flirtations of Amy Poehler and Maya Rudolph and broke into a blushful twitter… which was really quite charming. I’m with Rudolph:

No no you sit down, you gotta talk British some more.

The following quote, from an an obligatory Christmas dinner skit, may make it onto my Xmas cards:

Merry F-ing Christmas. You know what? F* you. F* Christmas.

(I actually love Christmas. Madly.  But being forced to celebrate with a bunch of scrooges is no fun. Every year I think I probably would enjoy the holiday more if I could just be alone to revel in the dorkyness of the season… just me and my tinsel, mistletoe, eggnog & bad lifetime movies.)

Normally, I love Weekend Update much much muchly but this week I was kinda grossed out when they made fun of the New York Governor, David Paterson, for being blind. OK, for being a blind cracky but still. It weirded me out.  We should be excited to have diversity in politics. Especially now, with Obama’s win. We need diversity in politics. It’s a must. We need people of color, people with disabilities, gay people, women, transgender folks. We need it all!  America is about that someone with “a gamey arm or the giant gums with the tiny teeth.” We need to “pull outta the freak bin.” It was just very old skool oppressive and in poor taste. (You know it’s bad when I’m squawking about poor taste!)

A blind man who loves cocaine… my life is like the plot of a Richard Pryor movie.

But then my hackles settled a bit when during the “Really?” segment of Weekend Update Poehler commented on Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich’s idiocy for getting caught on tape and failing to use code words.

When I call up my weed guy and ask for $50 bucks worth of circus tickets, you know what he doesn’t bring me? Circus tickets!

That got me laughing. Cause I love the circus!!!!!  Weed’s not the worst either. I’d rather have circus tickets though. Fo Sho.

There was also a sad-funny joke about Michael Jackson’s bling bling glove going up for auction.

Man, if that glove could talk! It wold probably apologize to a lotta kids.

Finally, Amy Poehler said goodbye. Her stint on SNL is officially over. She’s gonna concentrate on an Office spin-off and on being mama to Archie Arnett.

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