The Elder Caan.

I came across this picture the other night, and in true cheeky bitch style, I was drunk when I found it, so I lack a proper source. I did, however, have the thought in mind to save it, as it emphasizes a point I once tried to make about the younger Caan.

The point being, don’t show too much damn chest hair. It’s pretentious. Makes you look like a douche. Button your damn shirt up! Just, eww.

As you can see, Scott was really just showing us all that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree….

via

However, the image I found the other night showed me just how amazing a Caan can look when they decide to maybe, possibly, just keep the chest hair under wraps.

(Again, not sure of the source, but I kind of, sort of, think it was taken at some sort of festival thingymabob in Toronto. Awesome journalistic integrity, I know. Whatever. Apologies to the photographer though, for realzies!!!)

I guess, all I really wanted to say here, is Scott, take a page from your Father. If you hide the chest hair, you too can look kind of yumbers!

A Dude-Chick’s Manifesto

I’ve been struggling a lot lately. Guys I flirt with find me intimidating. Certainly not from my size or stature, (4 ft 11, tiny lil thing!), but from everything else. I can hold my own in a conversation about sports…I can drink a lot of dudes under the table….I’m not your average girly girl even though I like twirly dresses….so I present to you my work in progress–A Dude-Chick’s Manifesto:

I like basketball and baseball. Probably more than you. I played them as a child for the love, while you knew if you excelled, there was a slim possibility of you becoming a star, I knew there was NONE. Yet, I still played. Now I watch my teams not out of wanton lust for the finely tuned athlete’s body, but because I respect the game.

I will say “bro” and “dude” more than you.

I cuss not like a sailor, but like an Irishman. The difference is subtle but fucking Christ, you’ll know it when you see it.

Your fart and dick jokes don’t offend me, and if they’re funny, I will laugh.

Conversely, neither your farts, nor your dick offends me. I will also laugh at both..if they’re funny.

I wear dresses, I wear skirts. The only pants I wear are for playing ball. I’m a flirt, I like boys, I have an unhealthy obsession with both pink and sparkly things….

I’m a girl, I swear I am, complete with tits and a nice ass for a white girl….but I won’t be told I “can’t hang” with the boys any longer.

Review: Are you there, Chelsea?

I’ll preface this review with some truth, I am not a fan of Chelsea Handler. I have tried to watch her show “Chelsea, Lately”, and it’s just never been my cup of tea….I guess, if I’m in a dynamic where someone is being overly bitchy, I need that someone to be me. At least I’m honest, right? Well, this show feels like it’s anything but honest, and I’ve always felt that to be….insulting. There I said it. No network gods struck me down, NBC, you have insulted me. In a big way.

I’m kinda notorious for bitching about females in television. The few that seem to find their way into the industry do so by overtly playing up tired stereotypes, or..well…fucking network executives until they take a show away from their college roommate and give it to you. Jesus fucking Christ the E! Network is like a goddamn fraternity! But you, NBC? You should know better.

This show could have had some potential with a cast that included Laura Prepon, Jo Koy, Natalie Morales and Lenny Clarke. The reason why, is that of that list, Laura Prepon is the weakest actor. When you take away the bulk of that list and leave Laura Prepon with a collective of not-so-strong individual comedic talents and just a few moments of Lenny Clarke, you realize why Laura Prepon wasn’t one of the standouts of “That 70’s Show”.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved Donna! She was my freaking Ginger Heroine! But she’s not strong enough to carry a show. That said, if I read one more comment about how “Chelsea needs to play herself”, I’mma go Postal. And not in the cute Uwe Boll way where I really just destroy myself in the process. Chelsea Handler looks haggard as fuck! All honesty, she doesn’t look like she should be playing a woman of “child-bearing” age, much less a 25-ish year old version of herself. Come on guys, she’s fucking painful to look at as a blonde in full make-up. The brunette Chelsea is a fucking train wreck.

While we’re on the topic of hair, the “Redhead Rant” coming from a chick who made a career out of playing an auburn goddess just came off as disconcerting. Maybe it has something to do with Chelsea’s words just seeming awkward and off-putting coming out of Prepon’s mouth in the first place, but it. just. got. weird.

Not to beat a dead horse here, but one final bitch: If you are arrested for drunk driving, your sister can’t just come and bail you out. If you’re arrested for drunk driving, your solution can’t be to just move to an apartment closer to the bar you work at. If you’re arrested for drunk driving, your life gets a whole lot less funny. This show takes a lighthearted stance on a serious topic, and shame on you NBC for trying to cash in on it.

To see drunk people who are actually funny and also walk everywhere–check out The Complete Black Books!

Review: Whitney.

I managed to stay away from this show for an entire half a season. I mean, you do not understand how big of a feat that it, as I am notorious for inevitably giving into shows due, well, to boredom. But I won, I defeated the odd-smiling beast and didn’t watch the show! Until my experiment in mid-season pilots that is!!!

I cheated though, still couldn’t bring myself to actually watch the pilot, so I watched one of the more recent episodes. Even made it harder by picking one that didn’t rely on a big name cameo to make the stale story line watchable. No easy feat, mind you, there is literally like one episode to choose from when you put in that exclusion.

“Private Parts” it was….I mean, I loved the Howard Stern film, so this was obviously the best choice. Hell, the only time I have ever found Whitney Cummings remotely tolerable was on the Stern show, so let’s roll with it!

If the show existed with just the other couples…and no mention of Whitney and her intolerable mate….like ever…..maybe, and that’s only a maybe, I could stomach another episode of this show. Still…….that’s just a maybe.

I get the whole “Blue for the sake of being Blue” style of comedy, don’t get me wrong. It’s fucking hi-larious when Bob Saget goes for the crassest joke! Sarah Silverman too! But…it’s funny because they are funny. Just being vulgar cause it’s all you’ve got? Not cute. And if you must, don’t do it on network television where things are so goddamn constrained that your vulgarity really just comes off as a pathetic attempt at “Cheeky”.

You’re much too tall to be cheeky.

If you’re into sado-masochism, the Whitney Pilot can be found here. Better viewing: Bob Saget: That Ain’t Right or if you just wanna see a hot piece of ass that’s funny–Sarah Silverman: Jesus Is Magic.

Review: Rob.

I really, genuinely thought I was going to hate this show going into the pilot. Perhaps some back story is necessary, I once had the luxury of sitting through a pilot titled, “Related by Marriage”. While my memory is fuzzy on who some of the supporting cast was portrayed by, they were all veteran actors, the wife was played by Christa Miller, (The Drew Carey Show, Scrubs), and the husband was the show’s creator, comedian Andrew Kennedy. His family is Colombian and British and the show was based on his wife’s relating to his kooky ethnically-mixed family.

The actors gave it their best, and the material had merit, but it’s a situation that is hard to capture. And very easy to make seem corny. As someone who has been introduced into a Latino family by marriage, it’s also super easy to pick apart. Which is why I was so hesitant to watch this show in the first place. I love me some Cheech Marin. And I didn’t want some silly little Rob Schneider show to possibly change that…but then I remembered something else, I do kinda like me some Rob Schneider too. An eternal member of the Sandman’s Happy Madison family, and also Deuce Bigalow, himself, the guy is pretty fucking funny!

Once you throw in Lew Morton, (Futurama, NewsRadio), as Executive Producer/Co-Writer…well, I was sold.

The funny thing is, for as often as I have read that this show is racist, it’s not. If you listen to the show with a mind filled with “white guilt”, sure you’ll find it crazy offensive! However, if you come to it from the perspective that this is kinda what life is like for someone who comes from a Caucasian background where your immediate family is around all the time and your cousins and extended family only come around at Christmas into a lively Latino household for a gathering. Especially when you realize that “gathering” is simply Thursday night. Because Tia made menudo.

I realize that there may be some who will read this post and find some things in it that are just as offensive as some of the jokes in “Rob”, but that’s the thing, I’m just telling my experience, and Schneider is just telling his.

Blast the show if it isn’t funny, fine, but fucking hell, it is.

Oh, and Uncle Hector, played by Eugenio Derbez….well, think I’m going to brush up on my Spanish so I can get some more of him. Too. Fucking. Funny.

A late, almost to the point of why bother, review of ABC’s canceled “Work It”.

Whoa, that fucking title was a mouthful! OK, so here’s the deal, last week, was weird. One of the weird adventures that I took into the depths of hell over the past seven days was a three-hour tour of the new mid-season pilots.

I would have much rather been stranded for years on an island with Gilligan and the fucking Professor. It got raw. Heavy. There may have been attempts made on my own life in which my hand just went for it sans control of my brain. I, my friends, have stepped to the edge, hovered with one foot over the great chasm, and damn near lost balance with the other–now I’m back, to share this wisdom I have so brutally fought
for–we shall start with “Work It”. A show I watched that, ironically, given the absolute horrible reviews of the premise alone, left me with a feeling of hope for this mid-season batch of pilots.

I’m going to start by addressing the elephants in the room. Yes, I went plural. You have to when discussing this show. Let’s do this shit!

Remake, and a cheesy one at that of “Bosom Buddies”, “Tootsie”, Mrs. Doubtfire

I get it, it’s been done. Everything has. Or have we all forgotten that Trey and Matt summed this one up years ago, THE SIMPSONS DID IT! Nothing is original in television anymore. Moving on.

The show is offensive by making fun of transgender people, by utilizing it as a gag.

Here’s the thing though, the show doesn’t use it as a gag. It’s a desperate man, making a desperate choice because he sees no other out. I swear, there were moments where this show came off as less of a comedy and more of a drama.

On the whole the jokes in this show were not lowbrow. Noted, major, huge exception being the third male supporting character, (Played by John Caparulo, a stand-up with some “Chelsea, Lately” credits, not personally familiar, so I’m withholding any judgement on his particular brand of stand-up.), a bar buddy of sorts to the primary characters. The jokes written for this guy were horrible, out-of-place, and seemed to be shoved in by some network notes along the way about “Needing a real American Midwest man represented.” I can practically hear the Tim Taylor grunt that followed…..

The subject of dolling himself up in drag is not done jokingly in this show, it actually comes about in a particular emotionally invoking scene for any person who has ever come up short, been underemployed or unemployed, and known that the beginning of the fucking month was coming. Whether you had the money for it or not.

The main character, Lee Standish, is played by Ben Koldyke. Personally, I have major respect for the guy, not only was he fantastic as the Dickish Don on “How I Met Your Mother”, he turned in an amazing performance as the lover of Alby Grant on “Big Love”. He brings nothing less to this role. The scene in which he notices that he might, could maybe, possibly, throw one last hail Mary pass at becoming an employed person is very touching. Almost as touching as the point in which he decides that seeing his friend waste away in a minimum wage, fast food job isn’t worth his pride, and he outs himself, so that his friend can see what it took him to get a job, and make the call for himself….

It was a good show. It had heart. And before you ask, yes, I have actually watched both episodes that were made available to Hulu and if another is posted I would certainly watch. I absolutely adore Amaury Nolasco, who played the secondary character, Angel, and am actually super bummed that I won’t be getting to see more of him on television this season.

CheekyMF! Review: My Future Boyfriend

I’m a sucker for chick flicks. And an even bigger sucker for chick flicks aimed at the teenage girl level because between the Catholic upbringing, Protestant schooling and the ridiculous amount of time spent ensuring I would be Valedictorian of my class…I missed out on all of it when it was supposed to happen. So I watch cheesy ass ABC Family movies, ya know, to balance shit out.

This particular piece of lovely cheesiness features Sara Rue as an author, in the year of our Lord, two thousand eleven. Of course, every chick flick has a hottie, this time, its the eldest, (and hottest), member of the Camden family–Barry Watson plays an adorable, but basically emotionless archeologist in the 32nd century. 90’s heart throb FTW!

Watson’s character, Pax, starts the film out at an excavation site, well, a cruise ship that was revealed when the Pacific Ocean dried up, where he discovers a romance novel and is intrigued by the concepts found inside. So intrigued that, against all better judgement, he decides to go back in time to research this silly little thing called love. His intent, to go grill the author of his most recent discovery, the romance novel.

That’s about the extent I’m going to get into with the plot, I know as well as you do, these movies don’t hold up well post-spoilers.

It was an adorable flick overall, although I did have a minor issue with one thing….the music described as “Blues”? Not Blues. Zydeco. For a film supposedly set in New Orleans, (filmed notsoconvincingly in Atlanta), this is a biggie!

Fred Willard can somehow be funny without emotion behind it, it’s stunning to watch. (He plays BOB, Watson’s supervisor from the future.)

The best thing about this flick by far though, is the chance to see Sara Rue carry a flick. I’ve been a fan of hers since Popular, and she does not disappoint in this role!

Definitely worth putting in the instant queue! If you’re not into Netflix, you can also find My Future Boyfriend
on Amazon!