Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Happy Some Guy in Austin-Uary

Hello, Readers.  Happy Freaking New Year.  I trust that those of you reading this on December 31st are a couple hours away from getting all dolled up for a big night on the town (or the couch).  Those of you reading this on January 1st are likely reading it on a barely charged smart phone from a strange couch trying to figure out why (and how) your undergarments went missing.  Either way, I hope you're all safe, happy, and ready for a big 2014.  Oh, and I hope you find your underwear.   

It is, of course, officially "Juan-uary."  God help us.  In light of the upcoming Bachelor Season, I'm taking the liberty of posting ABC's entirely too aggressive Bachelor schedule for this month interlaced with my commentary.  First, I have to give credit where credit is due, however.  

A very loyal fan and a rabid (like Ol' Yeller rabid) Bachelor fan, Emily, emailed me the schedule a couple of days ago with strict instructions that I am to recap ALL shows pertaining to the Bachelor in January.  I've taken our email exchange and turned it into the post below for all of your benefit.  Thanks for pushing me, Emily.  That's why you have a book deal and I  . . . well, I don't.  

I suppose it's beneficial to know what the watching/posting expectations are prior to Juan-uary.  Thank you?   I can't promise I'll recap the Sunday show in addition to the Monday marathon.  I have a job and I value my sanity.  But I promise to try.  Keep in mind that Napoleon promised to stop invading places and Anthony Weiner promised to stop texting sluts.  We all know how that turned out.  Then again, I'm not Corsican nor am I running for office in the Spring.  In short, I'll do my best.    

Two shows and 3 hours a week?  That's a bit presumptuous on ABC's part, don't you think?  Is Costner running things over there now?  They might as well run The Postman, Dances with Wolves, and Waterworld after each episode, for crying out loud.   I'm just glad he's not Juan Pablo the III or IV.  We'd be watching III or IV shows a week on the guy. 

I will, at a minimum, allude to the Sunday show's finer points in my recap, however.  Emily also mentioned that the Sunday show time conflicts with Downton Abbey on PBS and that she was vexed (terribly vexed) that both shows require Tuesday morning water cooler knowledge.  What's a girl to do?  Good Lord. 

I'm not even sure what to say.  Mrs. Some Guy watches  Downton Abbey and, curious, I sat down to watch an episode with her one night.  As far as I can tell, the vast majority of the show takes place either in the kitchen or in that lady from She's Having a Baby's bedroom and entails that fat, cranky butler scowling a lot while that crankier old maid busts his balls about the Abbey or whatever.  It's not my cup of tea (see what I did there?).  I'm sure the fans will find a clever way to bridge the water cooler gap.  

Back to Juan-uary.  I'm tired of that term already.  

ABC's calendar is underlined with my comments on the calendar of "events" below each entry. 

Sunday, Jan. 5 at 8 p.m. -  The Bachelor: Countdown to Juan Pablo - get an inside look at Juan Pablo’s life in Miami, and meet his 4-year-old daughter, Camila. The special will also offer a behind-the-scenes look at the casting process for hit show, as well as an introduction to a handful of the lucky ladies who will be fighting for Juan Pablo’s heart.

An inside look at Juan Pablo's life in Miami?  Puh-leez.  My guess is that it involves a lot of showering and running down the beach shirtless juggling a soccer ball before buying his terminally adorable daughter ice cream.  We'll get a lot of action shots in South Beach down A1-A Beachfront Avenue only to find out later that Juan Pablo actually lives in a suburb 30 miles away.  He's like a Venezuelan Jake Pavelka without the gazebo. 

Monday January 6 at 8pm - Juan Pablo’s season of The Bachelor premieres

I'll be front and center for the big premier.  My goal is to get the recap up that night.  The good news is that even at my age I'm still proficient at getting it up.  Anatomy joke.  You're welcome.  Oh, and don't forget to download your Venezuelan to English dictionaries online prior to the big show.  You might want to dog ear the pages that include the words "Amazing," "Fantasy," and "Soccer."  

Sunday January 12 at 8pm  - The Bachelor: Behind the Scenes will follow Bachelor cast and crew as they crash premiere viewing parties and share extended footage of Juan Pablo’s women, both those he handed a rose, and the ladies who only got a glimpse of the stud before being sent home. The special also looks in on Bachelor production as they create a “winter wonderland” fantasy date, and offers more insight on the woman Juan Pablo chose for his first one-on-one.

"Crash" might be the biggest misrepresentation since Jake's height.  Do the women at any of your Bachelor watch parties put on evening wear and full makeup before settling in and being "surprised" by Chris Harrison in his giant Girls Gone Wild party bus?  Hell, Crystal Carrington looks like a slob compared to some of the chicks that answer the door when Harrison comes a-knocking.  "[L]adies who only got a glimpse of the stud"? That sounds like something you'd hear on a home improvement show.  A glimpse of the stud?  

In other words, The Losers.  I can't wait.  The good news is that the ones who are personal trainers will be able to parlay their one and done curb kicking into a "Spin Class at Noon Featuring Ashley (they're all named Ashley) Whatever, Star of The Bachelor" promo at the local fitness hotspot. 

And why did they choose the possessive "Juan Pablo's Women" to describe the hoard (or is it Whored?)?  I know they don't have the 13th Amendment in Venezuela but that sort of thing has been illegal here for a while.  Look it up.  

Sunday January 19 at 8pm - The Bachelor: Bachelor Love Stories  -  catch up on all the love stories you’ve watched through the years. From Desiree and Chris to Jason and Molly, we’ll find out how the relationships are holding up. And, of course, we’ll catch up with the show’s biggest success story, Trista and Ryan, as they celebrate their 10th anniversary with a vow renewal ceremony (and if we know Ryan, a poem).

Translation:  Ryan and Trista continue to begrudgingly meet their never-ending contractual obligations while simultaneously adding a sizable chunk to their kids' college funds.  Good for them.  Mesnick will smirk uncontrollably with Molly at his side while somewhere in a town home across the country Melissa Rycroft will calmly sip her chardonnay while trying not to crush the glass in her trembling hand.  No Ashley (they're all named Ashley) and J.P.?  Uh oh.  Dental school finals should be over by now . . . oh, wait. . .   

Also, fair warning.  I'll be skiing and Apres Skiing with Mrs. Some Guy in Breckenridge the week of the 17th so the post is likely going to be late.  The good news is that once I return to the highly oxygenated air of Austin after being in the mountains for a week, I should be able to knock it out of the park.  Patience is a virtue.  It's also an excellent name for a stripper.   

Sunday January 26 at 8pm -  The Bachelor: Sean and Catherine’s Wedding 

Sigh.  I wonder what those two spoiled Southlake brats will be wearing when they walk the ring down the aisle.  I also wonder if Catherine has curbed her appetite in time to fit in her wedding dress.  Based on some of the bikini pics y'all sent over to me, she could use a trainer named Ashley at her local gym.  I'm sure she'll look lovely. 

Well, there it is.

Have a happy and safe new year's celebration.  You'll hear from me in about a week.  In the meantime, if you need me I'll be showering 4 times a day after running shirtless by the lake while simultaneously contemplating love.   DP

Monday, December 9, 2013

Bachelor Juan Pablo: DP Returns to Rate the Ladies

Well hello, Readers.  Welcome back.  I know you're all excited beyond words that Juan Pablo is poised to take the big step toward finding his possible temporary fiancĂ© and potentially eventual wife after entering into a forced, ill-advised, hasty engagement with a woman he hardly knows after making out with her and 24 of her roommates for the past 5 weeks.  Notwithstanding the fact that the preceding description of events is very similar to my senior year in college, I think it's safe to say that we're in for an interesting season.  It starts on January 6, by the way.  I'll be happy if I can understand what in the hell our Bachelor is talking about half the time.  

Check out the dopey look on his face, the ridiculous hair, and the Gosling-esque cotton long underwear shirt unbuttoned all the way to his phallus.  He's also conspicuously hairless from the Adam's apple down.  He's clearly been coiffed and polished by the ABC Wardrobe Department.       

Like I said last season, he seems like a genuine guy with a good sense of humor and a penchant for not taking himself seriously.  In short, he's a polar opposite of the last few dudes to occupy his seat.  Let's see how he does, shall we?  

Without any further delay, I've taken the liberty of rating Juan Pablo's 25 options below and I've included not-so-thinly veiled anatomy jokes throughout the breakdown.  You're welcome.  

As always, I'll add the disclaimer that I'm basing my current opinion only on the information contained in the ABC.com profiles and the head shots I've generously included below.  I don't read spoilers, Reality Stan, US, OK, or People Magazine despite the fact that Mrs. Some Guy scatters them about the house like it's a freaking bird cage.  Now,  Let's get to it.  

Alexis, 24, Communications Director with Cuban roots . . . and honey highlights (or are those low lights?)  Her dream is to do Missionary Work.  If she makes it to the Fantasy Suite I’m confident she’ll get her wish.  Than again, Juan Pablo is South American so he might not be into missionary.  

Alli, 26, Nanny with a penchant for Jeeps and travel.  In spite of the forced, awkward smile, she's attractive and the job title implies she's the kind, nurturing type.  If Juan Pablo leans toward the blondes she'll be gone early.  If he's an equal opportunity woo-er, she should stick around to drop the nanny card thereby implying she'd be a lock for Stepmother of the Year.  Let's hope she has a naughty, lace version of the Mary Poppins outfit.     

Amy J., 31, Massage Therapist with bangs and an awkward picture.  She tells us that she would love to make a guy’s fantasy come true after she finds out what it is.  Trust me, Amy J., don't bother asking.  Just go ahead and call up your hottest, most morally flexible friend and have her meet you at the mansion with your table and massage oil.  It's nice to know Juan Pablo has a happy ending just over the horizon.

Amy L., 27,  Hot, latently naughty, Local News Reporter who dresses like a flamenco dancer.  She looks a bit like Jules Asner back when Clinton was still hitting on her.  This Just In:  she’s hot and, despite the fact she answered every profile question with the most overly broad, non-committal, generality she could find, she and her local news reporter's non-regional diction should go far.   I'm certain she'll help Juan Pablo get a hold of his diction and straighten it out.   Back to you, Some Guy.  

Andi, 26, Assistant D.A.   Hot.  She seems like fun.  She claims to have convicted a murderer in 8 minutes and to have climbed the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  Nice try, Andi, but 1st year lawyers don't get to first chair murder cases. Both of those things seem unlikely but let’s give her the benefit of the doubt, shall we?  You're hot and smart.  Start with that and Juan Pablo will appreciate it more than a fake story.  She's in my top 5 for looks and her smarts will probably help her chances considerably…Then again, so will a willingness to climb phallic shaped landmarks that lean to the left. 

Ashley, 25, Grade School Teacher who looks like a poor man’s Julie Chen.  She loves it when her date “makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.”  Good luck with that on the show, Ashley.      

Cassandra, 21, Former NBA Dancer—which means she’s currently unemployed.  Her favorite food is Spinach Pie, she loves it when her date holds her hand, and hates it when he doesn’t.   The only thing more shallow than her answers is the gene pool from which she came.  She doesn't look too bright either.  The only test she's never failed is a pregnancy test.  And what the f*ck is Spinach Pie?   

Chantel, 27, Account Manager who uses smiley faces and believes in fairy tale romances.  She looks way too kind in her picture to stand the gamesmanship and bickering.  Like Will on last season's Bachelorette, she's "the black one."  Also like Will, she'll probably be overshadowed by much blonder, perkier, and likely dumber competitors.  She's either going to be a steady voice of reason and a confidant for the crazy chicks or she's packing her bags on night one.  

Chelsie, 24, Science Educator—whatever that is.  Her favorite snack is Frozen Grapes.  That's like eating marbles.  For her sake let’s hope things fail with Juan Pablo and she ends up marrying a cosmetic dentist.  She loves when her date tries something new.  Like a nubile science educator, for instance?  On the plus side for Juan Pablo, as a science educator she's probably not afraid to experiment.  

Christine, 23, Police Support Specialist.  Homely with an Ashley-esque forehead.  Her favorite board game is Monopoly.  It’s nice to have a capitalist in the bunch. 

Christy, 24, Marketing Manager.  Smoking hot blonde who “feels more secure” if a guy is pursuing her.  Run, Juan Pablo.  It’s always the prettiest ones who are the most insecure.  She's a hot blonde.  Sigh.  If I was in Juan Pablo's zapatos the run of the mill hot blonde with blue eyes, a rub on tan, and a Crest White Stripped smile would have to do a hell of a lot to get me past the blonde hair, blue eyes, rub on tan, and Crest White Stripped smile.  Then again, I'm no Juan Pablo.  She's hot.  I hope she's not dumb.  

Clare, 32, Hairstylist who prefers the “nobodies of the world” who don’t gloat about their accomplishments, has never been on vacation, and does not consider herself romantic.  Wow.  It’s shocking she’s 32 and unmarried.  She might as well have said, “I hate fun.”  She and the other 24 "nobodies" should get along famously if that's her attitude.  She does have nice hair, though.  At an average 8 years older than the other chicks she's either going to be seasoned and mature or crazy from inhaling all of those salon chemicals on a daily basis.  Maybe she can clear up the purpose of that blue water where they put the combs before she's sent packing.  

Danielle, 25, Psychiatric Nurse with unfortunate hair . . . very unfortunate.  In fact, her head shot looks like a Before picture.  She’s a tomboy who takes 30 minutes to get ready and loves Andy Warhol.  I think we all know that even semi-intellectuals never fare well on this show.  She grew up with brothers and hung around their guy friends, so she won’t likely giggle and hair flip at everything Juan Pablo tries to say in English.  Her career involves being surrounded by over medicated, irrational malcontents with no serious connection to reality.  She’s perfect for the show.  Harrison might want to hire her when she's summarily dismissed in favor of the more sycophantic ones.   

Elsie, 27, First Grade Teacher with aspirations of changing the world.  She needs to dye her roots and tone down the eye makeup.  She’s attractive, but not attractive enough to stick around. 

Kat, 29, Medical Sales Rep.  A blonde Elizabeth Hurley.  She wants to go on a balloon ride.  Her affection for things filled with hot air should serve her well.  She should stick around.  Incidentally, she looks more like a Local News Reporter than the Local News Reporter above.  She's in her late 20's and has a demanding job that requires long hours and a brain.  She's probably accustomed to dealing with stress.  I hope she can deal with Juan Pablo.  

Kelly, 27, Dog Lover.  Hmm.  I wasn’t aware that loving dogs was an occupation.  I once saw a donkey lover in Tiajuana and that looked like hard work.  She tells us that she's “destined to be a wife and a mother.”  Great.   She’s a Calvinist.  She can't be that exciting either.  From the looks of it, she put one of her own eyes to sleep.  

Kylie, 23, Interior Designer.  Long red hair and a long nose to match.  She has a cat named Bentley.  She probably has a rat named Wes  and a stool pigeon named Jake too. 

Lacy, 25, Nursing Home Owner.  She OWNS a nursing home?  Whatever.  I don't care if she sticks around for a night or makes a video of her Fantasy Suite romp with Juan Pablo.  All I want to know is how a person obtains the Deed of Trust to a nursing home at 25 years old.    

Lauren H., 25, Mineral Coordinator.  Mineral Coordinator?  I give up.  Something tells me that she'd be more than happy to coordinate a diamond ring from Neil Lane.  Mineral Coordinator?  According to her profile, she “has a hard time keeping her mouth shut” when she “knows she’s right.”    My guess is that the first part of that is completely true.  The second half, however, is entirely subjective.  Translation:  If she wants Juan Pablo's opinion, she'll give it to him.   If she can keep her mouth shut long enough she’ll have an opportunity to open it on her limo ride home.  Subtlety is a lost art, isn't it?  I saw a bumper sticker recently in my liberal town that read "Well Behaved Women Rarely Make History."  True, maybe.  Perhaps I should make a bumper sticker that reads, "Know-It-All Mineral Coordinators Rarely Get Married."  The jury is still out on Lauren H.  

Lauren S., 26, Music Composer.  She’s apparently working on her 5th and 6th piano album.  Apparently, she had a significant amount of residual piano songs after her 4th album dropped.  She also admits (in writing) to farting in front of her class once.  An attractive, self-confident, educated intellectual with a keen eye on her passion and a sense of humor.  She’ll be gone on night one. 

Lucy, 24, Free Spirit: Undoubtedly with the emphasis on "free."  That means she’s an unemployed moocher.  Or perhaps "Former NBA Dancer" was already taken when she filled out her application.  A first class trip around the world, unlimited booze, and high-end meals should suit her just fine.  My guess is that her parents are hippies who never grew up.  Freeloading is often generationally acquired.  If Juan Pablo has half a brain he’ll kick her gravy-training ass out the window in the first socialist place they hit.  You know, like California.        

Maggie, 24, Personal Banker who looks much older than 24.  Shame on the ABC photography intern who didn't Photoshop out that Lego-sized earring in the picture.  She's from South Carolina and describes herself as very Southern.  That means she'll refuse in a really charming accent to put out in the Fantasy Suite.  

Nikki, 26, Hot Pediatric Nurse who describes herself as “Messy.”  For her sake, I hope that refers to the condition of the contents of her home.   For our sake, I hope it refers to her when she drinks.  Like the nanny, the nurturing career choice should prove to be a huge asset.  She's Fantasy Suite material provided she's not nuts.  She could be this season's Emily.  I hope she packed some white shorts.     

Renee, 32, Real Estate Agent who looks like Jennifer Aniston if Jennifer Aniston let herself go.  Two of her three favorite movies are Nicolas Sparks books which means if she and Juan Pablo get together, he’ll have to kiss her ass no matter what she does in addition to building her a topless painting nook in a house he remodels by hand while she recovers from amnesia. 

Sharleen, 29, Opera Singer who makes up for OK looks and horribly under groomed eyebrows with a great smile and a nice bio.   I like her.  Juan Pablo won’t.  She might have to sing instead of the fat lady.  It's much harder to become an Opera Singer than a Former NBA Dancer or a Free Spirit.  Let's hope Juan Pablo has a keen appreciation for quality of character.  It also takes a lot of dedication to pursue an opera career and that could mean she's socially awkward as a result.  We'll see.      

Valerie, 26 Personal Trainer.  Hot, raven-haired chick who loves hot weather and adventure races.  She's my top pick for looks based on these pictures.   I'm praying he doesn't go for all of the blondes and keeps this one around for some pool time or at least throws her a rappelling or bridge climbing date before sending her on her way.   

Victoria, 24, Legal Assistant who loves cats.  She’s from Brazil, which also means she loves walking around naked.  Between that and her mastery of South American culture she should stick around a while unless Juan Pablo decides he sick of Latin women.  

Well, there it is.  With the women revealed and Juan Pablo waxed and ready to shower 4 times an episode after running shirtless down the beach while juggling a soccer ball, we head into the Christmas Holiday Season.  Be safe, be thankful, and be ready on January 6th.  Post your comments and thoughts below.  Follow me on Twitter and make others do the same.  Let's make this a great season.  It's good to be back.  

I'll be hearing from all of you very soon.  In the meantime, if you need me I'll be coordinating some dog loving with my science educator.  Happy Holidays.  DP  

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Off Season Post 44: BOO! DP Returns . . . Finally

Well Hello, (What’s left of you) Readers!  With all of the rife speculation as to the cause of my extended off-season absence I’m back to tickle your fancy a bit.   And (say it with me) we all know how I love a tickled fancy.  It’s good to be typing thoughts as they spontaneously emerge from my brain as opposed to piece mealing them from law books or cutting and pasting them from old documents.  For what it’s worth, I’ve missed all of you more than you know. 

“Knock off the self-indulgent horsesh*t, DP,” is what you’re all thinking.  “Get to the point.” 

Unfortunately, this is the point.  Over the past month or so, I’ve compiled a list of random thoughts on various Bachelor and non-Bachelor subjects.  Like lava inside a dormant Vesuvius, they’ve reached the boiling point.  Feel free to skip around.  These are in no particular order of importance.  For the astute ones in the bunch, this should provide an interesting opportunity for psychoanalysis.  Please do me a favor and let me know if I’m currently at risk for anything, would you?  Now let’s get to it. 

“Yoga” Pants

As most of you are aware, I am a man of many contradictions.  However, my desire to list my many inconsistencies here would violate my love of brevity (see what I did there?).  My therapist once diagnosed me as passive/aggressive.  That really pissed me off so I refused to pay her bill for six months.  I’ll be here all week.   

by Jim Benton

Poe humor aside, that’s neither here nor there (and no, I don’t have a therapist but if I did she’d be hot and crazy like all therapists except “Dr.” Phil).  What I really want to talk about right now is the trend sprouting wings in various specialty food stores across the Austin (and I assume the national) area.  The trend, of course, to which I’m referring, is the tendency of every MILF to parade around the aforementioned grocery establishments in yoga pants. 

Look, as much as I appreciate the gratuitous, voluntary exhibition of the taut female frame the trend is as puzzling to me as plastic dress shoes, Ed Hardy anything, or those silly (and overpriced) Hunter rain boots made popular because that Royal Bore, Princess Kate…err…Katherine, excuse me, went to some rugby match in a muddy field.  England, appropriately enough, stays muddy year round.  Austin, does not.  Frankly, I prefer her yachting attire.  Google it.  This is a family oriented blog.     

Are all of these women actually coming from or headed to a yoga class?  The last time I checked eye make up and hairspray don’t fare well in 105 degree heat with 95% humidity.  In Texas we  don’t call that Bikram Yoga, by the way.  We call it August.  I digress.   

I suppose we could toy around with the permutations but I think I’m in the clear with the assumption that the vast majority of the MILF population has no intention of doing the downward facing dog on any given day . . .  at least not in yoga class anyway.  Annnyyhoooo . . .  

Perhaps we should just call this trend what it is and just call it a day.  I’d like to move to rename them to Grocery Shopping Pants, Spray Tanning Pants, or Heading to the Wine Bar After My Massage to Meet Other Women in the Same Outfit after Their Massage to Bitch About my Kids Pants.  Then, and only then, would I claim to have a true understanding of the trend.  

Note to Yoga Pant Milves (the plural form of Milf):  Just because it's on Pinterest doesn't mean you have to do it.  Sigh, yoga pants in the grocery store are so un-Pinteresting. 

Incidentally, as long as we’re talking about the grocery store I’d like to mention that I am staunchly opposed to using that filthy plastic thing you’re supposed to place between your groceries and the old lady with the checkbook’s groceries standing ahead of you in line.  As far as I’m concerned if the guy rings up my stuff without the old lady objecting she should have to pay for all of it.  Ya snooze, ya looze.  Next subject. 

Miley Cyrus

My first reaction to that ridiculous VMA performance and all of the subsequent hoopla was “who cares?”  Unfortunately, what was clearly a rhetorical question was nonetheless enthusiastically (and repeatedly) answered by every media outlet in the world. 

What do Socrates' students think about Miley?
Look, I get it.  She’s mad at her dad.  Fine.   Then again, the only difference between her and any other 19 year old, over-indulged, clueless, brat is that she happens to have 10 million Twitter followers and a prime time spot on the VMA “awards” show.  I was shocked that she didn’t trip on the silver spoon that fell out of her mouth as she panted wildly like Pavlov’s dog in heat.  Let’s not pretend that she intended to “express herself as an artist” or whatever nonsense came out of her mouth after she finally decided to put her tongue back in it.  Props to her PR folks for manufacturing that little stunt.  It worked. 


Oh, and as far as the parental objections I was forced to weed through on line regarding Miley’s status as a “role model” for young girls everywhere, I have one word:  Please. I suppose the troubling thing about her cooter shaking is that there is an entire generation parked squarely behind her like Robin Thicke’s middle-aged junk with the same self-important theory of entitlement as she has.  However, it’s not Miley’s job to raise those girls. 

Granted, her little dance number probably put a temporary wrench in the parental machinery but if your child is pushed over the edge by anything Miley Cyrus has to say then it’s time to reevaluate your approach.  She’s an idiot and even a teen aged admirer can learn that if the message is delivered correctly (and probably repeatedly). 

Good luck to all of you with teen aged girls.  Oh, and be aware that something like the VMA’s will happen again.  Madonna made jillions doing it and someone will make a jillion more after Miley’s done too.  For what it’s worth, I actually like that Wrecking Ball song.  Sure, it’s overproduced pop garbage but she has a decent voice and the lyrics actually make sense.  Try and say that about anything else in the Top 40.      

To be fair to Miley, if this was my dad, I’d probably pant a lot and run around naked too.  His haircut is arguably more offensive than anything she did on stage that night.  Certainly his “music” fits that bill by a few horse lengths.  The Uber-Mullett provides a formidable shield against his two worst enemies:  good taste and subtlety.   

Don't tell my hair, my achy breaky hair...

As for her co-performer, Robin Thicke, I’m really at a loss.  Look, Tom Jones made middle-age look sexy AND ridiculous but he had (and still has) an incredible voice. Thicke can't sing any better than his dad can act.  I saw Tom Jones in Vegas years ago and the audience was filled with fifty-something housewives and secretaries screaming like a pack of banshees when he gyrated his artificial hips.  We should all be so lucky at 50. 

Even his Best Of album (albeit gag-inducing by today’s standards) garnered him rave reviews; if for nothing else, his penchant for tanning.  I assume the body oil on his upper torso is a spill over from the oil he had to place on his lower body in order to fit into those pants.  Perhaps Yoga Pants would have been a better choice? 

As far as I’m concerned I’m not certain that Robin Thicke, Alan Thicke, and Simon Cowell are not the same person.  Someone let me know when you have a picture of all three of them in the same room.  Oh, and forward me your pictures of Peter Parker and Spiderman as well. 

That was absolutely awful . . .


Speaking of trendy things that I pray will vanish, The Urban Dictionary defines "Twerking" as “the rhythmic gyrating of the lower fleshy extremities in a lascivious manner with the intent to elicit sexual arousal or laughter in ones intended audience.” 

Grammatical errors aside, I find it contradictory (there’s that word again) that the intent required by the Twerker (I assume that’s the correct nomenclature.  I was going to go with ‘idiot’ but I thought that would be too broad) is EITHER sexual arousal OR laughter.  That’s like saying that the purpose of delivering a punch in the nose is to elicit either abject pain or a soothing sinus clearing.  It’s tantamount to hurling a Neti Pot at your friend’s face. 

Also, what is the objective measure of a successful Twerking session?

(Session?  Again, I’m at a loss as I lack the proper vocabulary for this and a cosmological discussion about the Omega Point Theory). 

After all, one is only required to have the intent to amuse or arouse the audience.  Is the Twerkee (the recipient of the Twerk) required to respond in any way?  Presumably, the yardstick of a successful Twerk is either energetic laughter or, well, a stiff yardstick.  Like the Robot, The Safety Dance, the Moonwalk, the Macarena, and Gangham Style, this too shall pass. 

Sean and Catherine

Good Lord.  We’re a solid three months away from Juan Pablo’s season and Sean Lowe and Catherine What’s-Her-Name are still in the news.  Apparently, Sean is going through with the big day.  He’s a “born again virgin” she’s . . . well, she’s apparently waiting for the big night before unleashing the Big Bang and I’m certain that Kensington and Smith are on their last pre-wedding fitting for whatever pretentious outfits they’ll be sporting from Pottery Barn Kids when they serve as ring bearers for Sean and Catherine’s Christian/Agnostic wedding. 

Yup, you read that correctly.   Apparently, she’s not sold on Christianity.  Look, judgment aside, that’s a bigger deal than they realize; especially since Sean categorizes himself as a strong Christian.  My guess is that the fam damily is not thrilled about it either.  I doubt there’ll be any mini-Buda statues gracing the front of Kensington's mini-mansion anytime soon.  Apparently, Catherine is “exploring” Sean’s faith and hopes to “be a believer.”  Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt, shall we? 

By the way, I’m not into spoilers and even when I get a supposed one via email I never check it out.  However, it has been widely reported that ole Juan Pablo has blown the big Bachelor secret by being seen with a certain contestant sucking face on a Miami beach lately.  I won’t ruin it, but be careful if you Google it. 

Frankly, I don’t care either way.  I just hope they give the guy a line on some of the English idioms he’ll be trying to tackle this season.  The last thing he needs is to enter this season with short, flaccid diction.  Granted, there are pills for that little problem now, but I’m sure he’d rather not have to worry about premature conjugation.  Alright, enough with the innuendo.  He’s either going to hit a home run or strike out swinging.  Let’s also give him the benefit of the doubt, shall we?    

In the meantime, enjoy this picture of our future Bachelor going all Zero Dark Thirty with the scarf. 

Yo estoy en fuego.

It’s good to be back.  Happy Halloween.  That reminds me.  It’s time for my seasonal Halloween joke.  Here goes.

How do you get a witch pregnant?

Pregnant witch

Another Pregnant Witch

You f*ck her. 

You’re welcome.  Enjoy dressing up as a naughty whatever.  Happy Halloween, folks.  Enjoy yourselves.  It’s good to be back.  In the meantime, if you need me I’ll be Twerking my Omega Point in my yoga pants.