Wow, I was in my hotel room on Monday and caught a few minutes of “The Tyra Banks Show,” which was focusing on black women and their hair. They were about to show the first time this man ever see his wife without a weave. She got choked up, worried he would not find her pretty any more, and I found myself sobbing uncontrollably. Really? Over a story involving a weave? Um, a touch hormonal, perhaps?
There is something very Chastity Bono about David Cook’s face. Dunno, but he looks like a woman with a beard. Seems like a nice enough guy whose songs sound just like Creed, but every time I see his video, I can’t help but see him as a woman. Is that bad?
I love her, that’s all. This year’s Xmas episode had Phyllis playing Santa for the first time, and she started to tear up when she talked about what a long journey it was to get there. Please. Just stop, because it’s too much.
First of all, I am a big sucker for racial-harmony-pictures, so Invictus got me right here. I donâ€™t know that I see the magic of Clint Eastwood, as most reviewers seem to trip all over themselves to compliment his films. Heâ€™s not exactly a subtle guy (Million Dollar Baby, Gran Torino â€“ all exercises in explicit, simplistic plays for audience sympathy, no offense), but sometimes, he manipulates me in a way that feels oh-so-right, and I will say that his filmmaking does seem to get considerably less clunky with each foray. And with this picture (which is about Nelson Mandelaâ€™s first steps into presidency and making the rugby team the pride of the country), I saw for the first time how sports can play a role in community identity and pride and Eastwood’s rugby scenes captured my attention (in a way real sports never can). Plus, since I know Mandela was never assassinated at a rugby match, I could just sit and relax and enjoy the picture, which was really nice.
Lately, I’ve been hearing really good old Police songs, not so much the monster hits that drove me crazy growing up because they were constantly being played (“Every Breath You Take,” “Duh doo dah,” and all that BS) but more of the obscure ones like “Bring on the Night” and “The Bed’s Too Big Without You,” and I remember, wow, they were a good band. Did you ever listen to “Roxanne” and imagine you were the prostitute Sting was singing to and he was so in love with you, he said it’s okay to stop acting like a hooker and just be yourself? Me neither. ha haha.
Are you kidding me? Give it up. Get the net. We broke up with you. Deal with it. Read here for the story.
A few (very few) people have mentioned fantasies they have about my baby. Like my father has a fantasy where the two of them will just hang out in the pool. My friend Alex J. mentioned daydreaming about the baby, but didn’t mention how. For me, I’ve so far only pictured dressing up the baby as Abe Lincoln (for Halloween). See, one of my fav things are babies in bikinis. I just find that so adorable, but since I’m having a boy, I won’t subject him to that. I’ll indulge my other baby fantasy, which is making babies wear fake beards.
I always catch some of SNL, as consistently mixed as it is, and am always amazed at the quality of their wigs. Their wig budget must be insane. I don’t really get a pang of loss any more when I see performers go at it, but I would still love a job where I got to wear wigs. My friend Alex says “So why don’t you get some and wear one,” but it’s not the same. Like I want to wear the heck of the wigs from 9 to 5, and then leave it behind at the office. It’s all about boundaries.
At very least, I have this long white beard from the show I just did, which I’ll use for Halloween (dressing up as Merlin, Moses, dunno, will decide then).
You know what’s weird about this whole pregnancy thing — or part of it, like not the part where there’s an alien growing inside you like Keanu Reeves in his pod in The Matrix:
It’s more that while my body technically looks like this:
My mind thinks it looks like this:
After all the hoopla and retardness of the DC party crashers and three Secret Service agents on leave without pay, this picture is still up on the White House flicker site. Hello, Public Affairs staff, maybe you want to take it down? Just saying. If it’s still up, you can check it out in context here. Sometimes, when I get the blues, I love checking out this site to see pictures of Michelle and the girls, but this picture really cheered me up today. White House, I’m available to work as a communications consultant if you want some extra help.