Shut the Crap Up!

While I rarely use the blog to rail against any real or perceived enemies, I sometimes feel the need to share the running commentary in my head with all the world...or, put another way, whoever chooses to read my blog posts. I will preface the following by stating that all uber-obvious choices are just that and don't warrant any repeats here - for example, see Sarah Palin, Brett Favre, and Phil Simms for starters.

So, Shut the Crap Up:

**Tim Tebow. If I desired to know your inner-most thoughts, I would read the Bible verse printed on the greasepaint under your eyes. However, I don't care. And I highly doubt too many other die-hard football fans do either. So, on Super Bowl Sunday, when you "star" in your little anti-abortion/Focus on the Family commercial, I will probably be in the bathroom or getting a beer or eating nachos like everybody else.

I will not, however, be listening to you because the last thing I want to interrupt a good-ass game of pigskin is a wanna-be quarterback spouting propoganda. Shame on you, CBS, for infecting Super Bowl Sunday with anything not about football or beer or that talking E*Trade baby or Viagra or anything else considered ultra-American on that day.

And as for Mr. Tebow, I do believe this commercial is as close to the Super Bowl as you will ever get, judging by your less than stellar performance at the Senior Bowl. Maybe you should try putting all that energy into learning to drop back and pass. I might actually care about what you're doing then. Until that imaginary point in time, just shut the crap up. Thank you.

**Jay Leno. Oh goodness, the Brett Favre of NBC television. You decided to retire. You knew Conan would take over The Tonight Show when you did so. Then, I guess you pulled a fast one and didn't want to leave after all. (Hmmm...wherever would you have gotten such a hair-brained idea like that?)

So, NBC puts you on at 10:00, which I don't think went over well, lending credence to why NBC's numbers are in the toilet. Then, I guess you convinced someone to put you back on the show from which you retired, thereby kicking out the successor you were well aware was taking over for you. Geez, the similarities between you and one infamous QB are striking!

I used to be a fan. I really was. However, now, not so much. You, Mr. Leno, now hold the illustrious place of annoyance just one slot below Number Favre. (Who can't really be replaced in my mind by anyone because that would just be...wrong.) So, please, enough.

**Nancy Grace. I'm over all the missing kids already. I'm pretty sure we know Natalee Hollaway is dead and so is Caylee Anthony. There - cases closed. Jon Gosselin doesn't really need your help to look like a douchebag. (He can shut up as well. Any time now. We, collectively, are waiting...) You seriously give lawyers an even worse name than they have now. Do you realize how hard that is? For crying out loud - shut it!

**Heidi Montag. You need to not only shut the crap up, you need to disappear entirely. I'm not sure why you are newsworthy - strike that, you are NOT newsworthy. We just have a poor imitation of journalism in this country and possibly a poorer imitation of humans who actually follow stories like this. (For the record, I don't count myself in that category because I get my information from printed materials, like Entertainment Weekly, and not Good Morning America. I'm just pointing that out.)

Heidi, Speidi, whatever. Your cries for attention are pitiful. Your plastic surgery is ridiculous. Your "husband" is kind of a waste of space. You are pretty much an idiot. You can't sing - and I'm not the only one who thinks this, as your new CD sold less than 1,000 copies its first week. The only redeeming factor to your existence is that Joel McHale has a field day with you on The Soup and I look forward to a good belly laugh weekly because of it. (So, maybe, don't shut up? Hmmm...that's a tough one. No, do shut up. Joel will find another target.)

And, that's all I have for one day. I'm sure that, in time, I can come up with a brand new list! Until then, I myself will just...shut up.

Championship Sunday, In the Books

Things I noticed from the NFL's Championship Sunday, even though my own beloved Steelers saw fit to lose to unworthy opponents midseason, thereby eliminating even their contention on this most exciting of football playoff days (not that I am bitter):

**If I was a Jets fan who bought one of those pre-marketed shirts or hats which read "AFC Champions Jets" or some such thing, I would be both disgusted at the J-E-T-S JETS! JETS! JETS! and, more importantly, myself for being enough of a dumbass to buy a shirt or hat with a boast of a victory before my team even played the game of which they are claiming victor status. I'm not sure how many of these suckers are out there, but I guarantee you they don't come forward and show themselves. If I were one of these suspected folks, I would either shove that thing so far in my closet I forgot it existed or burn it. Seriously. That is going to be a hard thing to explain later on. (Like, anytime after about 6:30 this evening.) If you did this, you need to get rid of the evidence. Now.

**Do you think Eli Manning is secretly pissed off at Peyton when Peyton does so well and Eli has to watch from that cozy little box in the stadium? And, furthermore, do you think Peyton felt the same way several years ago when the roles were reversed and Eli had the amazing post season on the way to Super Bowl immortality? And, most importantly, do you think big brother Cooper is clamoring from somewhere in the background, "But, hey guys, I was just as good as you too! I'd be just as good as you now if it weren't for my gosh-darned back! Hey...guys?" I wonder about the dynamic between those Manning brothers more than is natural. Or healthy, really. (See: my recurring Eli/Peyton/Steph love triangle dream. Enough said, I think. I have problems.)

**Do you think Rex Ryan's head might actually, literally explode off his shoulders during one of his many tantrums? Even though his anger was quite proper in a few of those non-call situations, I think he needs to settle down before he strokes out. He's a big fellow. All that running around and fitting can't be good for his heart.

**Can Mark Sanchez eat a hot dog in peace now? For crying out loud, that kid was freaking good today. I like the "Sanchize" tag with which he's been saddled against his will. And speaking of him, wouldn't it have been a trip if the Jets had actually made it to the Super Bowl with their rookie quarterback, only to play against the team that beat the team with the Jets' old (emphasis on old) quarterback, who they hired last year specifically to give them their best shot at a Super Bowl, after which they failed to even make last year's playoffs? Isn't it still awesome that the Jets made it this far with this talented rookie QB, given that above outlined situation?

**Now that Jim Caldwell is coaching the Colts in the Super Bowl, do you think I might remember his name? This guy has to be the most low-key coaching figure ever because I forget his name about half the time. (Or it's just early onset alzheimer's.)

**Isn't it ironic that two of the biggest stars of the day were named Pierre and each played for the winning team? I mean, Pierre is hardly a common name, in the NFL or anywhere outside France. Or Montreal. I enjoy little trivial tidbits like that. Because I am an uber-dork.

**Which interception do you think bothers Brett Favre more: the one he threw in overtime as a Green Bay Packer against the eventual winner New York Giants, or the one he threw today to send the game into overtime against the eventual winner New Orleans Saints? I mean, that first example was, like, twelve retirements ago (i.e. 2008) and this one was only the last play of the season in which he was to redeem himself and make his "Favre Watch" melodrama look like good strategy instead of ridiculous adolescent indecision. I don't know, but he'll have some time to think it over...good golly, could he really be done for good? Does it matter right now, given that we do know he won't play another game this season? Shouldn't we just be thankful for small blessings?

**Do you think that poor little Saints kicker thought about the parade of missed field goals during this playoff season before he strolled onfield to make or break the hopes of an entire city of crazed, drunk hooligans? How drunk do you think he is on Bourbon Street right this very instant? How jealous am I of those drunks on Bourbon Street right now? (Don't answer that. I can tell you: plenty.)

Anyway, good for the Big Easy and good for old Peyton, too. This goes out to J.W., the Steelers fan from Indianapolis my sister and I hung out with at the Pittsburgh Hilton bar after the Steelers beat the Ravens a month ago. If he thought he had to hear about how "Fu%$ing Great" Peyton Manning was before today, I'm pretty sure he's in for it the next two weeks.

Good luck, buddy. You are definitely going to need. it. Stay strong. And, just for good measure, it's never too early to start: Go Steelers!!

The Greatest (Oz) Story Ever Told

As my annual movie-centric time of the year beckons, I realize I need to get busy on prospective Oscar nominees and am grateful that I have a bit more time this year - the ceremony occurs in early March. However, the decision to nominate ten films for Best Picture will no doubt make my quest that much harder - a fact about which I am still confused and somewhat bitter.

Nevertheless, I can't help but pay homage to those classic films which have shaped my love of film. This need for tribute definitely came about because of the 70th anniversary DVD editions of two such cinematic marvels: Gone With the Wind and the wonderful Wizard of Oz.

Most people of pretty much any age can relate to some memory of the mesmerizing Wizard of Oz from childhood. I can't actually recall the first time I saw the film. It's just always been a part of my soul. My mom, being a serious film enthusiast herself, never held the fondness for Oz that I did, since Ms. Garland's voice "bugged" her. I, however, like millions of gay men before me, was fascinated by her and the entire production. Though it never became one of my "classic" obsessions, I am quite fond of all things to do with Oz. Re-living it through this new, restored edition, I am reminded of many afternoons in my living room as a kid, crouched down watching an old VHS copy of the film and singing along.

I also did the same thing with Gone With the Wind, though I don't know if all kids felt the same way. When I was in my Civil War phase (see: North and South scrapbook in my basement, created circa 1986) this was certainly a staple of mine when parked in front of the television building Lego houses or playing paper dolls with my little sister. I really believe that these viewings let me in on what was truly a cinematic masterpiece - somehow I understood the magnitude of it. Now that I am an adult and again watching this tremendous epic, I realize I genuinely, innocently missed some of the sexual nuance and feminist underpinnings of Scarlet.

But that's okay. In my heart, when I see both these films, I am a kid again in the living room, flabbergasted by what I see. When I watch the Oscar nominees for this year, I won't be cognizant of the influence on the way I view films.

But it's always with me, just like the joy of those early memories of these masterpieces.

Spectacular Spectacle

"Some people" might like to say the television set is the source of all evil, with its inherently mind-numbing distraction from human relationships. (This is a coded way of saying Scotty P. likes to tell me I routinely rot my brain with some crap on TV.) I like to say it is the source of all that is good in this world and, as evidence, I point to the following, which would be lost to all humanity were it not for the good old boob tube:

**Little Miss Perfect - showing near-constantly on WEtv. (The second season just began this week.) WEtv is like Lifetime's wanna-be cousin who fancies herself more high-brow because she sends money to Feed the Children infomercials and is, therefore, informed about the plight of the world. Regardless of what you think about these so-called "women's entertainment" channels and their stereotypical portrayals of female wiles, there is no way (NO WAY) you should miss out on this little gem.

Little Miss Perfect is the name of a beauty pageant for children, seemingly always taking place somewhere in the south (often in the Carolinas) in a very ritzy venue. Like the ballroom of a Holiday Inn, with all the conference tables pushed into the corner. All the pageant moms are, um, well-fed. And obviously they have spent most of the family's disposable income on makeup, spray tans, and outlandish drag-queen ballgowns for their young, impressionable daughters who may or may not end up on the top of a stripper pole. (I'm not passing judgment on children in beauty pageants. I mean, teaching a five-year-old her main attributes lie in the quality of her blond hair extensions and fake eyelashes doesn't automatically mean you will saddle the kid with self-esteem issues...and strippers make good money here in the south, so there is that.)

Anyway, these kids and their overbearing moms are old news. We've all seen it before. That's not the reason you should watch. You need to see the pageant coach/coordinator/emcee, Michael Galanes. This guy is seriously underrated and he needs more facetime. He holds this entire debacle together with a wide smile on his unnaturally orange face, and manages to stay upbeat while in a constant search for the most perfect-est little girl ever.

Now, I'm not saying he is gay because he spends his time immersed in the world of beauty pageants. Nor am I saying immersion in beauty pageants will make you gay. I'm just saying. The dude is not a straight man. He's also entirely awesome. He infuses these B-level affairs with some serious enthusiasm. While he might tell a parent that winning is everything, he also reminds these kids to just have fun as they try to achieve that most attainable goal: perfection. He is a friend to each dysfunctional family equally.

He also sings what might be the greatest song ever written in the history of music - I can't explain it to you except to say, one line goes a little like, "there are misty-colored rainbows, on the o-ther...sii-iiii-iiii-de!" (Make sure the vibrato on "siiii-iii-de" goes on a while and shimmy your shoulders while you do it. I happen to serenade Scotty P. with this ditty quite often. He's a pretty big fan, as you can guess.) I love Michael Galanes. He's so cliched, he almost can't be real. Except he is. Glorious madness.

**Teen Mom - showing on (arguably) the most important social achievement of the last hundred years, MTV. Golly, where to begin? The name alone conjures up all sorts of images which can't begin to compare to this show's episodes. An actual train-wreck could sue this show for upstaging it.

Now, these teenagers aren't new characters. They are the protagonists from 16 & Pregnant, which aired over the past summer. Except now, the drama has moved up about a hundred levels as these poor kids try to raise their own actual poor kids. I'm not saying it makes parenting look completely wretched. I'm just saying that, as a thirty-something, it scares the crap out of me and makes me question breeding. Ever. This one experiment in reality television could do more to promote birth control than any number of public service announcements.

Some of these girls are truly sympathetic and do a fairly decent job, given their often lowly support systems and inability to financially prosper. Watching actual pain is not fun, and that's not why you should tune in. You need to see the ones who are selfish brats with families enabling their every bratty move.

That is mostly Farrah, with her mom who is basically ordered to watch the baby because Farrah tells her so. Obviously, Farrah needs to find a man, and being a teenager, she needs a social life. You know, I thought to myself, that makes perfect sense. Having a baby shouldn't preclude dates to the pizza parlor and mini-golf! Farrah's mom agrees. She often tries to talk sense into Farrah, as she holds the baby and yells while Farrah is doing her makeup to go out. Of course, I also thought to myself, I bet Farrah wouldn't go out so much if she had to, you know, work and pay bills and live on her own. But...details. Seriously. This show is fun, if only to remind you of your own sensible view on the world.

There are plenty of other instances I could go on about, but for now, this seems like enough. Although, no one could be complete without logging onto youtube.com to watch possibly the greatest spectacle of all time: General Larry Pratt's original hit, "Pants on the Ground." Even though I gave up on American Idol after the skeptacular Bo/Carrie disaster, this is worth your time.

Don't dare to try and get it out of your head - and why would you want to? It's terrific - in fact, just this past weekend, I wowed an entire crowd at a local Waffle House with my own rendition. (Granted, it was, like, 2:00 in the morning and the crowd was, well, slightly intoxicated and maybe easy to please, but still...Brett Favre reportedly pumped up the Vikings in the locker room before their beatdown of the Cowboys by singing his own version. And seeing how I hate Brett Favre and would never, EVER, compare myself to him in any way, I have to give him props for at least this. And, the world may have officially ended as I wrote that last sentence. I will go throw up now...)

So you see, stay tuned to the television and be amazed by your fellow humans on this planet. Find some time in your busy day for one little bit of spectacle. Or, if you'd rather, just wait for me to watch it and then ask me to recap it for you. Because we all know I will find that time in my day. It's how I roll. And I'm not about to stop now!

Looks Back, Wishes Ahead

Last week, Dick Clark and I rang in not just another year, but another decade. There are many things to think about over the past year and last ten years. It's usually better to look ahead, however, and not back - even though this year will be the decade mark for my marriage to Scotty P. and the sad one-year anniversary since Pittsburgh's "City of Champions" title. But enough about all those nostalgic memories - here are a few things I personally can't wait for in 2010:

**Jersey Shore. Okay, I cheat a little because my addiction to this blessed bit of MTV goodness began last year. But, to be fair, it was pretty darn close to year's end and I can tell the madness is going to really heat up in the coming episodes. Why am I completely bonkers over some twenty-something Italian kids with dark tans and big hair? I can't really say. My sister and I have already spent hours analyzing our delicious attraction and haven't truly pinned it down. Does it matter? This is one mindless, fun distraction about which I won't apologize or feel embarrassment. Instead, run with it! (Fist pumping all night long!)

**LOST. It is bittersweet, knowing that the whole thing will wrap up and we'll know (hopefully) the answers to every burning question. And that is also the greatest thing ever. I can't wait for it to begin, and I will be sad upon sadness when it ends. It isn't often the writing and intrigue in a show can not only sustain, but get better each season. This one is primed to be a doozy. Maybe when it's all said and done and I have tons of free time on my hands - which Scotty P. would argue is, um, right now - I'll enroll in that "LOST University" through the BluRay disc and totally immerse myself in Dharma and Oceanic Flight 815 for good. Oh, won't that be the day? (I hope I can finally figure out that giant wheel and Faraday's mom and...oh, forget it. I'll just wait for J.J. Abrams to help me here in a couple of months...)

**The Twin Peaks Festival in North Bend, Washington. (Dates are not yet announced. I've checked.) I have no idea whether I will make all my dreams come true by actually attending this yearly event, but hope springs eternal. I would fit right in with all those oddballs still obessed over a show which ended in the early 1990's. ("Fit in" would be an understatment...) I have several ideas in mind for the costume contest. I would give a limb to see the recreation of the Black Lodge and those creepy red curtains. If I bone up on the DVD Gold Set, I might have a prayer in the trivia rounds. Cherry pie and damn fine coffee is starting to sound like a slice of heaven right now! I have big dreams to make it out to the west coast for the first time this year, and I can't think of a better catalyst than this! Wish me luck!

**Career guidance. I hate to get all serious here, but I am really anxious to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I have several plans in mind to get me on the right track to making that choice. It's not meant to be cryptic - I just need to ponder a few things and then will get back to you on this one. I do know that, one way or the other, I am headed to at least a toe or two on the right path.

**Jeff Probst and Ryan Seacrest coming out of their respective (gay) closets. Enough already, fellas. It's painfully obvious to me that you guys sincerely need to come clean and live your lives. I've recently re-watched a few episodes of Survivor and, honestly, Probst's shirts say it all. Seriously - this could be the year of truth.

Maybe there are more - I would certainly hope so! Right now, this is a good list to get me through these bitter cold days and dreary gray skies and, along with some beer, I should be good to go by springtime! Until the next time, Merry New Year and all that jazz!