data jockey

It wasn’t really Sophie’s Choice or anything, but last night I had to choose between a Flavor of Love recap episode or a new RW/RR Gauntlet 2 because I got home late. Since Beth is gone, I chose the Flavor remix, including an extended version of THE FIGHT and bonus audition tape tracks.

I have to admit, I agree with the logic I read in a Freakgirl comment thread. Most likely New York will win, as they can then milk the relationship for another series. And if that happens, then Hoopz truly is the winner.

TV’s been pretty good to me the past few weeks. See, back when American Idol was auditioning people, I actually watched.

He took me, with the stink of filthy roadhouse whiskey on his breath, and I liked it. I liked it!

It felt really dirty and I couldn’t tell anyone. I resolved that I would continue watching as long as I could control it. I refused to DVR it, and only watch when there was nothing else on. Luckily, our mid-season reality replacements have kept me from watching AI for a few weeks now [go grey haired guy and creepy little boy!].

The Real World Key West started up, and I can’t help but see this show as just kind of a training ground for future battle-type MTV series. Surprise - they are all pretty on the outside and fucked up inside. And they drink a lot. The end.

The Amazing Race is also on tonight - the locals are gone [I’m not heartbroken, nor thrilled], and the old people suck. Seriously - last week I kept telling the cats during the motorcycle challenge that although Fran looks just like Ruth Gordon,

her and Barry are just burdens on society for standing around and then expecting Mr. Scott Peterson to put together a motorcycle for them.

Project Runway 2 ends tomorrow, and I’m sticking with my prediction from 2 weeks ago that Miss Chloe will win. And with Project Runway 2 ending, Top Chef begins. Yes, I plan on giving it at least one episode. I don’t/can’t/won’t cook, so maybe it will hold a similar mystique to me as a sewing competition did. OK, we’ll at least watch as long as this daddy’s around:

Another cycle of America’s Next Top Model is starting this week, Survivor is barely, barely entertaining me, but still trumps American Idol, and my new favorite quote comes from last week’s Drawn Together:

Tears make the best lubricant.

It’s funny because it’s true.

Some video:

Requiem for a Toy Story

Natalie Portman’s Rap - it was OK and all, but really, the best part is NBC’s disclaimer after God knows how many lawyers billing at God knows how many hours had it pulled from other servers:

Now, instead of searching the web for “borrowed” NBC highlights, you can go to the source!

They make busting copyright infringers sound so cute! I could honestly care less where I watch it.

Somebody needs a project. Word. What is saddest:

Wait - apparently that really was him? Darlin, I can think of way more productive things to do in Asia. Via.

If it’s all a big hustle, it’s a great hustle, and I applaud it. If it’s true, it’s as Warholian as it gets.

We’re going to the movies March 24th.

No I’m not. The last movie I saw in a theater was National Treasure. If Narnia couldn’t break that dry spell, I doubt JT can.

You probably shouldn’t put any of these on any computer you don’t mind re-imaging because God only knows what’s hiding in the code.

That being said, I’m totally pranking someone with ‘Random Burper‘.

Well, that was quite a day yesterday, huh?

First, I can say with 99% accuracy that I found that picture on Datalounge. It’s a pretty anonymous, fleeting and flaky message board thing. Is that really Eric and Jeremy? I think so, but don’t quote me.

Are Eric and Jeremy gay? Well, when our people take sad, amateur, soft-core pornographic pictures in tacky underwear, we generally disown them. Throw them to the wolves, in a sense. Personally, I had a Pansy Division quote in my head after watching them on Tuesday’s episode:

Well, a cowboy may brag about things that he does with his women,
But the ones who brag loudest are the ones that are most likely queer.

Coincidentally, Mr. Willie Nelson just re-recorded that song.

ANYWAY, I’m glad the loud ladies are gone, Ruth and Barry irritated me slightly less this week, and thanks to Andy from Reality Blurred for the traffic spike here.

Additionally, one of the benefits of having a weblog is I can be all like “I called that action 2 weeks ago. Word.” when my picks win.

It only makes sense if you suffered through Family Season like I did:

It does not get any better than when the under 10 set gets all snarky about The Amazing Race.

Summer of festivals, huh?

My Coachella itinerary is pretty much set, but this Pitchfork thing is looking real good too. I’d easily pay $30 for Yo La Tengo OR Mission of Burma individually. Throw in Mountain Goats and its time to start looking for T class tickets and cheap Chicago hotels…

You can make a guy come quickly; all you have to do is threaten them. Be like, “Listen, I have fucking schoolwork to do. It’s 1:12 p.m., I’m giving you until 1:20 p.m. to come, or else I’ve gotta go.

It really is pretty brilliant advice. Much better than Margaret Cho’s about sticking a finger in his ass.

I actually broke my 15 month cinema-less streak this weekend and saw The Libertine [Leaving Las Vegas set in 17th century England. Real upbeat.], mostly for the company. However during the trailers I started laughing uncontrollably, inappropriately - as Crackhead Tim looked on, the only words I could get out were “COOTER” and “REALLY PORNY SEQUEL”.

and then your HUSBAND gets his FOOT EATEN OFF by a DRAGON at the ZOO

IMAGINE THERE’S NO HEAVEN.

I’m fast becoming a regular around here, I guess that it may be easy to spot a tall blonde guy with a guitar, and even easier when I’m moseying down the trail playing it.

My friend Josh is travelling around the world, and writing about it well enough that I’m slightly jealous instead of super snarky. Godspeed!

One good thing about the internet - if you don’t feel like doing something someone will just do it for you.

And finally Flav couldn’t take it and bolted from the table and probably went to get some cheap, Mexican hookers. Which is a step up from these two skanks.

There wasn’t enough in last night’s 90 minute finale of Flavor of Love that I could find worth recapping. Hoopz lost, which means she won, and we now have to wait 2 weeks for New York v Pumkin round 2. But come on, we all knew nothing was going to top 2 weeks ago.

God bless myspace:

Flav told me a funny thing the other day about Pumkin. He said that she sucked at “blowing” because her lips were too thin and that she was so boring in bed!!! I’m not at all surprised that tacky COUNTRY hoe from Bakersfield sucked.

Because the action on Flavor of Love wasn’t all in front of the cameras, now the ladies are takin’ it to myspace:

However, I could give a shit about her or her myspace. If she is talking shit about me on there, fine.

How awesomely post-modern is this? Real people pretending to be real complaining that they are not portrayed as real fighting with each other on the internet allowing anyone with a web browser to join in. It totally makes my head hurt, like that Simpsons story within a story within a story last Sunday.

Yahoo! News roundup:

I gasped when I read the first paragraph. I’m the first to say I’m a little pissed off. And not just because I would have been there. 5 million dollars is a pretty big paycheck and with that kind of money, maybe Morrissey could have gone ahead and recorded a good solo album finally.

I gasped when I read that quote, because that’s exactly what I thought about the Virgin Mary episode that’s also been pulled - although I don’t think the Catholics had it pulled, the alcoholics did. However the Virgin Mary episode just wasn’t funny/had no good jokes or lines, regardless of the light it put AA in, and Trapped in the Closet actually was a funny episode. That quote makes me think Isaac Hayes is slightly less ridiculous now, because if they got it all wrong about AA, maybe they got it wrong about Scientology. *snicker*. As if.

About 3,000 schoolchildren were at the recording and witnessed the accident.

Via.

As traumatizing as that sounds, we have our own reality television traumas here in the US, such as the return of Scott Long to my television screen. I’d rather watch the train wreck any day.

No one’s posted images or video of him running around with a load in his pants but STAY TUNED because I sure as shit will.

Otherwise, this seasons Surreal Life looks pretty disappointing - lots of small accidents but no big “Janice Dickinson waving a carving knife at Omarosa” incidents. We do think Steve Harwell is dreamy, but we always have (SHUT UP), and I’m fascinated that Florence Henderson gets to be on the show, but doesn’t have to sleep in the house? She all getting the C-LIST treatment up in the D-LIST Surreal Life, huh?

Steve can OCD mop my floors shirtless ANYTIME. The roommate disagrees however.

Google page creator - my thoughts.

Just checkin’ out that 100MB from Google.

Indirectly via Jhames. God bless you darlin’.

Like a stale peanut butter cup:

It’s like a huge Charlie Brown parade float head.

You would thing Douglas Coupland interviewing Morrissey would be orgasmic, but it wasn’t all that.

However last night these peanut butter Klondike bars were on sale at the grocery store, ridiculously on sale, and they truly are orgasmic.

Blowing off Th’ Faith Healers tonight. More later.

UPDATE - the point of the story was that the jPod site freakin’ rocks.

So the reason I skipped the big shoegaze show last night was multi-layered.

My list just goes on and on. The real reason though? I wanted to stay home with my new friend Cuddles:

Let’s look a bit closer, shall we?

Cuddles, a Dell XPS notebook, arrived on my doorstep Monday. I [Francine Fishpaw] had pretty much filled up the hard drive on my old PC with music. I didn’t feel like playing around with configuring an external drive, because quite frankly that would be like working at McDonalds and cooking french fries at home. So the ol’ desktop pretty much has an operating system, iTunes and .mp3 files. Cuddles is gonna run everything else in my life. Wirelessly. It’s pretty nice to finally play games like Civ IV and RCT3, which were too new for my old system.

Plus, Dell gave it to me on credit, no interest for 18 months. That’s pretty much the real reason for getting it.

I totally feel naked by putting a picture of my living room on the internet. I love the new Flickr feature where people can crop and comment, but I’ve yet to do the Flickr thing.

About a month ago, the Toys-R-Us near me was going out of business. Let me tell you, if you have never been to a ghetto Toys-R-Us liquidation sale on a Friday night, well, you just haven’t lived. You can skateboard in the store and nobody yells at you - for real. Everything was like 75% off but I think if I had just walked out with my stash, nobody would have said boo. I picked up this lava lamp and a billion poker chips for pennies.

We’re pretty much done with Top Chef. I only bother to look up from Cuddles when Daddy Dave is on the screen - I can’t see him lasting much longer, anyway.

I bought the wrong mouse for Cuddles, but the mousepad is from American Airlines, so I have MICE ON A PLANE.

If I promised you that this was the last time ever I would write about Flavor of Love would you believe me?

# Job location is Nationwide
# Compensation: $100 day + fancy meals, hotel, and transportation
# yes — OK for recruiters to contact this job poster.
# yes — Phone calls about this job are ok.
# yes — You may contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.
# yes — Reposting this message elsewhere is OK.
# yes — OK to repost to Job Developers for Persons with Disabilities.

Being on Flavor of Love is now a JOB.

Via.

I finally went and got me one of those flickr things. And proceeded to fill it with photos of nothing from 3 years ago.

You also have the option to start over from scratch with
the new version, which can be done by simply uninstalling and
old version and installing a fresh copy of the most
up-to-date version through vDeck.

And you know kids - I think I’m going to take that option. The last time I tried to upgrade Wordpress it didn’t work - too much template hacking on my part. Now my webhost is requiring it, so I’ll see you on the other side. I’m gonna backup the database, but don’t know when I’ll put the archives back up so if you had a favorite post go find it this week. If you like the way this all looks you should take a screenshot now since it probably won’t look like this next week.

Because this is exactly what I wanted to do with my weekend.

Before all of this moves into nowhere this Friday, here’s a media rundown:

Books - Dennis Cooper’s God Jr. was his worst book ever. If you hadn’t guessed, the Dennis Cooper link probably isn’t safe for you-know-where because he is FUCKED UP.

Movies - I actually went to see The Heart Is Deceitful… Friday afternoon, and there’s not much to say. If you read the book, you’ll see the movie not matter what I say. If you didn’t read the book, I say don’t bother with the movie. It wasn’t awful - just not very good, and kind of unsettling, in a not good [bad] way.

Music = MogwaiCoachellaMogwaiCoachellaMogwaiCoachella and that’s pretty much it. Mr. Beast is truly post-rock, yo.

TV - We are so bored with The Real World and it’s children, Surreal Life, and pretty much everything else I watch lately. Big Love is nice and creepygood though - I think it’s the fact that we have to keep seeing Bill Paxton’s ass that makes it so dirty. And of course My Name is Earl [ooh…THE LIST]. Dare I declare a reality lull? I’m not feeling Survivor or Amazing Race this year, Unanimous is just stupid so far [of course I’m watching it - it’s on Fox].

Pretty soon though, I’m gonna be busy rebuilding a weblog to do much of anything else.

The once-gorgeous, velvet-voiced crooner who wooed Kevin Costner in “The Bodyguard” now “spends her days locked in her bedroom amid piles of garbage, smoking crack, using sex toys to satisfy herself and ignoring personal hygiene,” the tabloid says.

All of us that watched Being Bobby Brown paid for those sex toys. We should be ashamed of ourselves.

If you like deformed genitalia like I like deformed genitalia then you can help me decide:

Real, or prosthetic?