I'm Done

I smell, I have not shaved in several days, and I've gained approximately five pounds from the junk I've been eating for two weeks, but finals are finally finished. Assuming I pass everything, I am officially 1/2 a lawyer. And now I'm retiring for the evening with a few cocktails and a "Designing Women" marathon on TV Land. Damn, I'm old!

Damn, I Hate White People.

There's really nothing like finals to get me writing about anything and everything but the law. And no, I don't really hate white people...most of the time. It's just that lately it seems every day I encounter an incident of such monumental asshattery that it makes me want to resign. I would too, if only I could figure out to whom I should give my letter. The British Empire? Strom Thurmond's ghost? Bob Saget? The mind boggles.

So I took a break this evening from the copyrighting of crop circles to go indulge in some tortilla-wrapped deliciousness at Qdoba. With extra guac because I am so far beyond giving a damn that I now outweigh not giving a damn by a good five pounds. The line is long, and I'm passing the time by trying to ignore the deeply dull but entirely normal conversation of the two twenty-something frat guy stereotypes (and face it, I ought to know from stereotypes). I place my order with the really friendly counter guy, who happens to be African American. The boys behind me stop their normal conversation, and apparently at the point of stepping up to order, one of them had his body possessed by Eminem because he proceeded to turn to the counter guy and practically yell, "'sup!" in a manner that convinced me his sidekick was going to start beatboxing. True, boys of all races use that term in greeting. Hip-hop culture is the predominate youth culture. These weren't those kids. This tool changed his accent to greet the black guy, and seemed to think it made him quite cool, like they were having a moment relating to one another right there at the Qdoba. I almost apologized to Nice Counter Guy on behalf of white folks with half a brain.

To his credit, Nice Counter Guy greeted them back with only the most subtle hint of sarcasm in his voice that suggested he was thinking, "You are such a douche that if you were on American Idol, the audience would keep Vanilla Ice and send your ass home." Seriously, white guys who are kind of tool-ish, why do you do that? Why, when you encounter a black man, do you suddenly start acting like an American tourist in France who is trying to get the waiter to practice the phrases they got from the Fast French cassette tape on the plane over? They can understand you just fine the way you normally talk, and don't need for you to show them how down you are. Because in case you didn't know, you're not. Asshole.

I swear, every day I'm more amazed that there hasn't been a gory bloody revolution in this country with people out there acting a fool.

On the Runway

I just have one thing to say about last night's challenge on The Greatest Show on Television, "Project Runway."



Who the hell let Gordon Gartrelle on the show?!



Denise Huxtable, you may have finally found your calling.


Today's foolish joke courtesy of Trading Faces spouse Craiggers, who will only sit through Project Runway on the promise that there will be male models featured in their underwear.

The Cheese

So I've been trying to get inspired again to write. My writing has always been cyclical anyway, and law school seems to have sucked out whatever regular creativity I once had. But since it is finals time again, and since I'm working to avoid thinking about finals, I thought The Cheese might be a good way to get me started again.

The theme of today's Cheese is dance singers who can't dance. There's no rhythm nation here, y'all. Bless their hearts, if it weren't for the shawls, wind machines, backup dancers, distracting gold hot pants and quick cut editing, you'd see this gals for the flat-footed disco-challenged divas they really are. Thankfully, if we squint really hard, we can pretend their steps live up to the songs. Your mama can't dance, and neither can...

Stevie Nicks




Kylie Minogue



My adopted daughter, Whitney Houston



The woman, the legend, Cher

In fairness, she's not so bad, she should just NEVER dance next to Tina Turner.

Franklin Says Eff You

While waiting for Westlaw to come back online so I can do my much-delayed law review project (I’d go to LexisNexis, but our Westlaw rep is a temptress with those prize points she offers…damn you, you tanorexic siren offering up your cappuccino machines in exchange for my legal research loyalty!), my kitty Franklin wandered into my office. As usual, he got up on his hind legs and tapped me three times with his paw, indicating that I should stop whatever I’m doing and scratch him immediately. I turned to him, and to my surprise, he hopped up on my lap. He never does that. I was soon disappointed to learn that this was not a father’s day show of affection. He proceeded to hop from my lap to the desktop, using my testicles as a springboard, and started typing. Apparently he is pissed off about all of my law school friends who are adopting dogs and posting their puppy pictures on Facebook. Franklin is generally pissed about Facebook anyway, but this dog trend really has him riled up, and he's determined to convince my friend Ms. Watson to change her adoption plans. The following is what he had to say, typed at 75 w.p.m. with full ALWD-format citations (which I deleted because no one actually uses ALWD…I won’t have people thinking my pet doesn’t know how to properly cite legal authority). I apologize in advance for his potty mouth.



“I have something to say to all of you people on this Interweb thing with your puppy fever. Eff you!

Why you people think puppies are so damned special is beyond me. I don’t understand why people with a lot of dogs are animal lovers, but a nice cat lady gets called crazy by her condo board as they screw her over. The fact is, puppies have no dignity. They piss in the floor and don’t even have the decency to cover it up. They beg for leftover food instead of demanding their own plate. They come to you when called, like they’re Naomi Campbell’s assistant trying to avoid a beatdown. That’s pathetic.

I am over each and every one of you. Not that I wasn’t over you already, mind you, but all this puppy talk is the last straw. Ms. Watson, my person says you are reasonable, so I will assume you are despite his frequent bad judgment. Here are five reasons for you to consider as to why cats are far superior to dogs.

1. You won’t get a sunburn because we will never ask to be walked in the park. Granted, that means won’t get you laid with some other dog walker, but having seen people sex, I think it is safe to say that everyone involved is happier sitting quietly on the couch watching television and drinking alone.

2. Cats will not chew up your shoe collection. This is because all cats are gay, and gays have inherent respect for shoes. We will poop in your Crocs, but you and I both know you have that coming.

3. A common cat complaint is that we have a tendency to rub against you, covering you in our fur when you are dressed up and about to leave the house. Please understand, we don’t do this to be annoying. We do it because what you’re wearing is terrible. It is for your own good. Change your outfit…you’ll thank us for it when the rest of your office isn’t calling you a dirty road whore behind your back.

4. Yes, we are aloof. Dogs are indeed friendlier than cats. You know who else is friendly? George W. Bush. He is also dumber than a tube sock full of marbles. Friendly is highly overrated.

5. You are a lazy s.o.b. We respect that. I personally spend 23.25 hours per day sleeping, and I’m proud of it. You want to sleep in? Fine by me. I won’t judge you, and what’s more, I won’t wake you up yapping to be fed or let out of the house. In fact, I won’t ever even ask to be let out of the house. Outside is dirty, hot, and frankly only fit for a dog.

Ms. Watson, clearly you should get a cat instead of joining all of these pod people with their cutesy profile pictures starring a smelly pathetic canine. Cats rule. That is all. And now if you will excuse me, it is time for my nap. Besides, my person tends to get all twitchy if he’s away from his computer gossip and pornography for more than a few minutes, and he is already getting on my last good nerve.

Most sincerely,

Roosevelt Franklin"

They tried to make me go to rehab

Lindsay Lohan's lawyer took her to check into Promises spa, I mean "rehabilitation" facility after her arrest for DUI on Saturday. That's the same place where Brit Brit stayed after shaving her head, so I'm sure this will totally be successful. All I'm saying is that if I'm going $80,000 into law school debt to spend my career taking spoiled panty-free rich girls to fake rehab, I'm quitting now while I'm ahead. Who needs an education for that? I could probably just say "subject matter jurisdiction" around those girls every few sentences, and they would just assume I'm a lawyer anyway.



I'm waiting for the inevitable day trips out to Fred Segal and The Ivy during Lohan's "recovery." I saw that the last time she was in rehab, and I wondered whatever happened to the good old days when your oil baron spouse could take you to rehab where they lock your crazy ass up until you resort to selling your pearls to a creepy orderly for a mouthwash bottle full of bathtub gin? At this rate, Lindsay is never going to get to see Southfork again.

C-U-Next-Tuesday

I adore Rosie O'Donnell. Even in her abrasiveness, I think she is a good-hearted person who feels passionately about so many of the issues I care about. I also think Elizabeth Hasselbeck is a moron. I could respect her views while disagreeing with them if she wasn't so vapid, spewing whatever talking points she heard on conservative radio that morning rather than contributing an idea of her own. That said, they both have some boundary issues, and someone needs to fill those mugs up with a big old glass of shut the hell up.

Their latest dust-up is all over the blogs, and it is a doozy. If I were Baba Wawa, I would suspend both of them for acting so unprofessional, AND I would make them polish all my diamond shoes, clean the marble lap pool in my bathroom, and rub my bunions every night for a month because I'm Baba Wawa, dammit! Their behavior wasn't surprising, though. Neither was the response on the gay blogs. As soon as a female conservative with a rather nasty point of view surfaces in the gay media, commenters on the blogs pull out the "C" word. And I for one am sick of that view.

Seriously, this is not acceptable, people. The "C" word is the sexist version of Faggot (and yes, I use that one...I got called it from the time I was six, it took me 20 years to fight back against it, and by golly I own that word!). If we really want people to take us seriously when we bitch about bigotry, we have to look at ourselves first. After all, so many gay folks are progressive, and so many others are some of the biggest bigots you will ever meet.

A couple of weeks ago, I was getting my wig split at the same Fantastic Sam's I always go to (because I'm cheap and I don't have much hair). Instead of the hot Middle Eastern man I like, they gave me to this tanorexic over-processed blond queen who had effed up my stuff the last time I was there. I decided to give him another chance. So we're chatting, and I'm telling him about how I quit my job and went back to school because you know I don't shut up about all that. He tells me his dream was to quit doing hair and become a vet tech because animal welfare is so important to him, especially dogs. I asked him if he had heard the awful story about the NFL player busted with 75 dogs he'd been training to fight, all of which were horribly abused. He leaned forward all conspiratorily and whispered, "Was he black?"

Set aside the fact of what the hell difference does that make. Why would he think I would approve of that comment? That's the thing with racists...they think that all white folks are part of their "club." The gay white racists are the worst about that "club" business, as though being in such an exclusive group, one that gets dumped on as well, gives us the right to exclude others in the same manner. I'm not proud of the fact that I didn't go off on him, though in my defense, my hair was half cut and he had a pair of scissors around my head. I suppose my face said it all because he changed the subject immediately.

I left that salon wondering what I should have said. I hate for someone to lose a job, but he knew what he was doing was racist, otherwise he wouldn't have leaned in and whispered it to me. It weighed on me for a couple of weeks before I finally wrote in to their corporate headquarters and reported him. It's a tough economy, and business people need to realize that racism is not acceptable. Plus this bitch made the same mistake as last time, resulting in another month of an Opie Taylor cowlick on the side of my damn head, so you know he needs to go!

My point here, and I do have one, is that gay folks often shoot themselves in the foot, demanding equality one minute, and dividing up along racial, gender, and class lines the next to exclude others. Getting called a faggot as a kid and not having equal rights as an adult does not give me the right to call a woman the "C" word, no matter how rancid Hasselbeck is. Go after her because she is dumber than a box of hammers. Say that eating bugs on "Survivor" does not qualify her to be spokesmodel for the Republican Party (and it isn't like their standards are all that high these days!). Just don't start throwing around words that reduce a woman to her genitals, the implication of which has always been that her genitals are all she is worth. It is sexist, it is beneath us, and frankly, we're supposed to be a bit more creative than all that.

Diabeetis

Franklin has been taking an odd interest in my mail lately. I didn't think much of it until this afternoon.



When the mailman came today, Franklin let me know that I could be saving a lot by getting all my testing supplies from Liberty Medical, and that they would even bill Medicare for me.



I tried to explain to him that I'm not diabetic, but he just waddled away mumbling about Quaker Oatmeal and Shannon Doherty.

How Cheap Are You?

During finals, most law students don't have time for much of anything but law school. To relax at law finals time, my pal Cooper dates hot boys and touches himself. I go to Target. Also, since most of us in law school are going to be Sally Mae's bitches for quite a few years, we don't have a lot of cash to spare. Needless to say, when I see the dented and dinged clearance items on the endcaps at Target, I get quite excited and load up my cart.



That said, even I have a limit to my cheapness. Some things should probably be purchased when they're in prime condition.



I'm fairly certain there is some sort of tort duty you take on when you buy clearance condoms. You'd think my torts professor would have warned us about that. I just hope it isn't on my torts exam (the last of my five grueling final exams!!!) Friday.

I should note that I do load up on things I use regularly. Just last week, I bought a gigantic package of paper towels and several sticks of antiperspirant. But let's face it...no one in law school is having enough sex to justify buying prophylactics in bulk, no matter how good the deal. We don't have the time, and we tend to make adverse possession jokes in bed. Law school may be the perfect form of safe sex...the Radical Right should require teaching 1st year law classes in grade school.

You've got to know how this hurts.

Star Jones, you look...nice.



I'm glad you finally let your gay husband pick out your clothes.

Oh come on, you didn't really think I was going to not say it, did you?

Postcard From the Edge

Having a horrible time...wish you were here!

Greetings friends,

Well, it seems that the world is going to hell in a handbasket all around us. Don Imus is a bigot who finally got called out on it. The Middle East is blowing up. There's only one person left in America who doesn't think Global Warming is real, and unfortunately he is some yokel in the White House. Danilynn finally has a daddy. And I couldn't care less.

That's right y'all, it is final exam time again! I start the fun on April 25 at 9am, and continue through Oaks Day. For non-Louisvillians, that is the racing day at Churchill Downs the day before Derby...this time of year, we measure everything by Derby. But there will be no Derby fun for the law students of Louisville. No, we only get contracts and civil procedure and property and criminal law and torts (oh my!). I'll have a three-hour written exam every other weekday for a week and a half, each of which is my entire grade in the class. Whose damn idea was this law school business anyway?!

So, excited as I am that Anna Nicole's baby is a fellow Louisvillian by way of the baby daddy, I need to get back to work. I hope to either get some inspiration this summer after I've taken most of this semester off. In the meantime, I leave you with some of what is playing on the background of my beloved computer, Ms. Maybelline Macbook.

If you haven't heard this, I'm thinking perhaps you should get out more. It was recommended by Trading Faces reader Denise, and the entire album has been on near constant play here for a month.
Amy Winehouse, "Rehab" (live at the Brit Awards)



Erasure used to be one of my favorites, but they haven't put out anything really compelling in years, at least not until this month. This is the lead single off their upcoming album, and one of the sweetest love songs I've heard in ages.
Erasure, "I Could Fall In Love With You"



Finally, here is an old favorite dance artist who has put out a stomping remake of an old Pointer Sisters hit. And the bonus is a TOTALLY SEXY video (Ces, for your own good, please don't click play!).
Ultra Nate', "Automatic"


Oh, and we would like you to know that new Trading Faces kitty is settling in nicely.



However, he still can't be bothered with you.

The Break-Up

Dear Andy,

I think the time has come to face facts that our relationship isn't working. While my love for you runs deep, not even all the Gloria Vanderbilt jeans I could ever wear are enough to put up with your internalized homophobia any longer. Your reaction, or lack thereof, at being named the 2nd most powerful gay in the U.S. by Out Magazine perplexes me. I mean, I was thrilled at just being a powerful gay by proxy of being your secret boyfriend!

Instead of taking me out to celebrate, you got on that damn cell phone with Jodie Foster, knowing that she and I aren't speaking since I made that innocent comment about her walking like a trucker in her Oscars gown last month. While I was trying to get us reservations at Nobu, the two of you were whining about how could they do that to you when you aren't even out. I have news for the two of you: Out is right. You and Jodie live totally in the open without actually saying the word gay. You are out, and it is legitimate to say it in the press. In a world where we report that Jake Gyllenhal and Reese Witherspoon are secretly dating just because they're seen out at dinner together, but don't report on Jodie's partner when they're out on the beach with their kids holding hands, the message is still that there is something wrong with being gay. How is one of those things legitimate celebrity news and one isn't? I simply don't get how it is acceptable to make inferences into the life of someone based on dinner, but it isn't acceptable to comment on the completely obvious, unless of course you really believe that the obvious thing is shameful.

Andy, you say you won't talk about your private life, but then you go and ask poor Kenny Chesney about his orientation in an interview. You know about Kenny...we were on the same lane as him in the Rainbow Bowling League last week! And if you don't talk about your private life, why were you hawking a book about your grief over your brother's suicide? That seems far more personal than who you date. Sweetie, you are more than a bit of a hypocrite, and the argument that you'd be viewed as less credible with your personal life known is ridiculous. I know more about Katie Couric's personal life than I ever wanted to know. I've seen that woman's damn colon, and she got made a network anchor!

I love your gray gardens, but I can't live with the shame any longer. Let's try to remain friends, okay?

Christopher

(cue music)

Vacation, all I ever wanted

Continuing in my new tradition of no longer acting my age, I went to Florida for spring break a couple of weeks ago. Granted, I spent the time with people FAR older than me, but still I felt a little silly telling normal people (i.e. non-law school people) my plans for fear they'd look for me to be showing my tail on MTV Spring Break like a fool.

It was good times, having a wee reunion with my group of friends who all used to live in Lexington. Two of them live in Ft. La-Ti-Dah now and helped host us all, so between free housing and a ticket that was sponsored, it was in the student budget. So what does one do on spring break in Florida when one is no longer a traditional college student? As it turns out, pretty much the same thing as always.

1. Breasts were fondled inappropriately.



2. Many drinks and some extra-special cookies were consumed.



3. The death site of a dead celebrity golddigger was visited.



4. Greasy food was consumed to combat the hangover.



5. Hooves got cloved.



6. More drinks were consumed, resulting in the inevitable tanline competition.



We also have a new addition to the Trading Faces household. I'm pleased to introduce everyone to Franklin, our newest snarky resident. Franklin, please give everyone a disdainful look.



Clearly Franklin is not in the mood to deal with you.

I realize I have been AWOL from the blog as of late. Law school really has drained me of what little funny I had. I will likely keep on this rare publishing schedule until the end of the semester (around Derby time). Please do stop back every now and again, and thanks to everyone for all the messages!

Big Gay Al is not going to like this

Oh Star. Guys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses. Especially gay guys. Most especially gay guys you marry. I'm just saying.

Good news, Christopher is on spring break! Hooray! And believe me, I have some things to say. I'll be saying them just as soon as I finally sober up!

Christopher's Oscars Wrap-up

For those of you who are checking in for my annual Oscars Report (or as I like to think of it, my bitchslap to Hollywood even though they never seem to notice), for the first time in probably 7 years, it is cancelled. Why, you may ask? Because after this hotness walked the red carpets, I hung up my laptop. I am THROUGH, y'all. Nothing will ever be better dressed than Miss Sally Kirkland. EVER.



Oh yeah, and school is also killing me, and I have my appellate brief due in a week, so I didn't sit watching all the red carpet fun. Sorry to disappoint. Please tune in next year when I'll have lots of hateful awful comments that are going to put me on a one-way trip to Hell.

The Weekly Cheese: Bad Movie, Great Soundtrack

Back in 1987, Jon Cryer made his attempt to break out from the goofy lovable sidekick role into leading man status with his film "Hiding Out." Yeah, didn't work out so well, but he's a sitcom star now and his role as Duckie Dale will keep him in our hearts forever, so don't feel too bad for him. Anyway, the soundtrack to this horrendous movie is fantastic! And by fantastic, we mean cheesy. Enjoy some clips generated by this crap 80s movie for this week's cheese.

Pretty Poison, "Catch Me I'm Falling"




Boy George, "Live My Life"




Roy Orbison & k.d. lang, "Crying"




PiL, "Seattle"




Hue & Cry, "I Refuse"

Vulcan Death Grip Ruled Violation of the Geneva Convention

Now how is Condi going to keep the press corps in line?!

Wheat Puff 1969-2007

Sean Puffy Puff Daddy P. Diddy Diddy Wheat Puff Combs' prolific career of changing the words to other peoples' songs and designing clothes that end up on the racks at TJ Maxx came to an end this week after an altercation involving three bottles of Cristal and supermodel Naomi Campbell.

From The New York Daily News:
Diddy angrily confronted Naomi Campbell at Jermaine Dupri's Grammy after-party, according to a witness.

The late-night bash took place after Clive Davis' annual party. "[Diddy] just started screaming at her when he saw her," says the spy. "No one could believe it. He was screaming obscenities at her, and also screaming at Terrence Howard, who was with her."

Campbell, however, brushed it off. "Naomi played it totally cool," says the party guest.

Police had to use dental records to identify the record "producer" as his face had the logo "Motorola" etched into it repeatedly, rendering him unrecognizable. No arrests have been made as of yet.

The Great Hollywood Hoax: Another Crackpot Theory

Dakota Fanning freaks me the hell out, and I have never been able to figure out exactly why. I wanted to say it is because she talks like a 40-year-old librarian. Not that this is a bad thing...I'm always happy to hear that the kids are reading instead of doing drive-bys and having BJ parties, or whatever it is the young folks do nowadays. There's just something about her speech patterns and syntax that sounds scripted. For example, this quote about Tom Cruise:

"My mom and dad really don't approve of mobile phones and they really didn't want me to have one. But then on my birthday this parcel arrived from Tom and it was a phone. In the end they let me keep it."

Ummm...you're not even a teen yet, and you're tossing around the word "parcel" like you're Gwenyth Paltrow trying to renounce your citizenship. "Did you pick up the post, dear?" "Yes Mum, and guess what? You got a parcel!" WTF?! But I have her number now. Today it struck me exactly what is wrong with this little chickadee.

She's a robot.


Scoff it you must, but this is what happens when you give Tom Cruise a whole bunch of money...he's gone and perfected Vicki from beloved 80s robot sitcom "Small Wonder." Dakota was, no doubt, the prototype for Suri Cruise. And what if he's built a whole army of little robots with big vocabularies, all plotting to convert us to Scientology? Now, excuse me while I put in a call to "The Weekly World News." We're going to blow this scandal wide open, I tell you!

Now THAT makes me sad!

I'd like to write something passionate and eloquent about some things that happened this afternoon, but in all honesty, I'm just too much of an angry-sad-disappointed blend at the moment. So, I'll just tell you about it instead.

As I mentioned a while back, a group of us at my law school are engaged in organizing opposition to the military recruiters at our school. We are opposed to them being able to come in and use our resources only to say some qualified students need not apply thanks to Don't Ask Don't Tell. Anyway, our Student Bar Association president stopped by at lunch to see my pal Becca and I to let us know the petitions she had hung for us on the mail room door had been ripped down...twice. She was fairly angry, as were we. Becca re-hung the petition prior to our afternoon class. That petition was gone by 4pm.

While I am amazed that in this day and age people still think it is okay to not hire qualified gay folks, I accept that not everyone shares my opinions. I can't accept this kind of blatant act of hate in our school. I see a lot of things up and about with which I disagree, but I can't comprehend the hatred it takes to destroy their postings, particularly in an academic environment where we're supposed to be learning how to uphold the law. Perhaps I spend too much time with like-minded people to the point that I've forgotten just how hateful the world can be. I was tormented in high school. I got death threats at UK as their first out gay newspaper editor. Honesty seems to have a price for some of us, and at some point you try to isolate yourself for comfort.

Isolation is not an option any longer. To the coward who is so afraid of those of us who won't be silent, please know that the petitions are going back up. They will keep going back up. We aren't going away any time soon. Learn to live with us, because you're the ones who are a dying breed, not us.

The Weekly Cheese

February 2, 2007...happy 227 y'all!





And I mean no place, child!

I've complained about this before, but it bears repeating...where the hell are the major networks with shows featuring families of color?! Why are they all relegated to the ghetto channels like the CW with no budget, bad writers, and no chance of gaining a mainstream audience? It isn't as though history hasn't shown that if the show is good, America will watch no matter what color the stars are. Doesn't anyone remember "The Cosby Show"? How about two of my favorites as a kid, "The Jeffersons" and "Good Times"? People watched that stuff because it was FUNNY. Of course, the white folks aren't funny on most network television any more, so I don't know why I'd expect any better from others. Still, it is only a few years before people of my hue are less than 50% of the population of this country, so those networks had better hop on it if they expect to make any money. I hear Jackee and Marla Gibbs are available.

State of the Union

Special Trading Faces political correspondent Truman reacts to the President's State of the Union Address.




Mr. President, every time you make a speech full of half-baked ideas, conciliation mixed with confrontation, and downright lies, God gives a headache to a kitty. Please, Mr. President, think of the kitties.

Joan Collins gets served!

Oh lawd, did Mrs. Garrett not learn anything from the East Coast/West Coast rap rivalry? I guess not because she's looking to be the next Tupac! This fabulous video shows her giving an interview on the red carpet of Joan's new show "Legends," and she starts dropping the "B" bombs! I love a dirty-mouthed old lady!





So, what is more shocking? That Charlotte Rae is so mean, that Joan Collins is shocked that someone called her a bitch, or that either of these old broads still get invited places? I'm sure Blair is going to pray for Mrs. Garrett!



This link blatently lifted from the evil queens over at D-Listed.

Mortal Mix Tape

I've often wished my life had its own personal soundtrack. I mean, it sort of does inside my head...just last week, Beyonce' was driving me insane by living inside my head and singing "To the left, to the left" at exceedingly inappropriate times. But I'm talking about the sort of soundtrack that plays out loud over events like in a movie. I want to be Molly Ringwald getting dressed for school to the sounds of the Psychadelic Furs telling me I'm pretty in pink. Actually, I just want to be Molly Ringwald, but that is another story entirely. Anyway, since you know how I like lists, here is the soundtrack to Christopher's life.

Opening credits: “Filthy Gorgeous” by Scissor Sisters
Waking up: “Coffee In Bed” by Squeeze
Average day: “Make Your Own Kind of Music” by Cass Elliott
First date: “No Scrubs” by TLC
Falling in love: “Fall At Your Feet” by Crowded House
Love scene: “Slave to Love” by Bryan Ferry
Fight scene: “Love To Hate You” by Erasure
Breaking up: "Untouchable Face” by Ani Difranco
Getting back together: “One” by Mary J. Blige & U2
Secret love: “Breakfast in Bed” by Dusty Springfield
Life's okay: “Holiday” by Madonna
Mental breakdown: “Add It Up” by Violent Femmes
Driving: “Can’t Get You Out of My Head” by Kylie Minogue
Learning a lesson: “Proud” by Heather Small
Deep thought: “Prince of Darkness” by Indigo Girls
Flashback: “Dancing Queen” by ABBA
Partying: “You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)” by Dead or Alive
Happy dance: “Venus” by Bananarama
Regreting: “If I Could Turn Back Time” by Cher
Long night alone:"Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me” by The Smiths
Death scene: “Being Boring” by Pet Shop Boys
Closing credits: “Last Dance” by Donna Summer

Rousing Rabbles

It only took one semester for me to get back to being a student activist! Next month, our school starts on-campus interviews with various employers. All accredited law schools have an anti-discrimination policy that those employers must abide by. That meant law schools didn't allow JAG, the legal arm of the military, to recruit on-campus. Then Congress forced us all to allow it under threat of losing the entire university's funding, including funding at the medical school where important research is happening. We have to allow them, but it doesn't mean we have to be quiet about it. A group of us are organizing the students for several events, the first of which is a letter signed by the student body condemning JAG's presence at our school, and asking that the Dean make a public statement that the only reason JAG is allowed to violate our discrimination policy is that Congress put us under duress to do so. I'm trying to get my classmates to sign it, so here's a note I sent them. Hope you tolerate this break from my normal celebrity foolishness.

So, your favorite rabble-rousers, me, Ms. O'Neill, Mr. Coffman, and Ms. Smalls, are circulating a letter asking that you join us in condemning the visit of military recruiters to our school. I want to make it clear that I am not against the military. My step-dad is a veteran. My great-uncle Webb was signed to play basketball for Adolph Rupp, but volunteered to go to Korea instead where he lost an arm. I continue to be in awe of the strength of character it took for them to serve the country in the face of danger. Because of that, I believe it is important to give you my three reasons why I hope you will sign our letter opposing JAG recruiters forcing their way onto campus in violation of our anti-discrimination policy.

1. The Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy is discriminatory for no reason, and is bad for our national security. Even its most staunch defenders like former Secretary of State Gen. Colin Powell, former Chair of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Gen. John Shalikashvili, and former Secretary of Defense William Cohen are coming around to the fact that there is no good reason to stop perfectly able Americans from serving their country. For those who fear difficulty in integrating LGBT troops, they could look to two of the best armies in the world, Great Britain and Israel, to see how all fit citizens can serve together peacefully without any damage to troop morale. I’d rather look to our own military, perhaps the greatest model of integration in American history. When the president ordered the military racially integrated, people feared the reaction of our troops, not understanding that when the commander-in-chief makes an order, it is absolute. The result is the most powerful military perhaps in world history. Integration worked once with much more baggage, and it can work again.

What’s perhaps worse for the US in the short-term is that Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is posing serious risks to our military readiness. Since 1994, 55 translators of Arabic languages have been expelled under the policy despite the 9/11 Commission noting our extreme need for those translators to decipher intercepted terrorist intelligence. More than 11,000 soldiers have been dismissed since the inception of the policy at a cost of around $360 million to taxpayers.

The bottom line is, according to our military leaders, congressional reports, the 9/11 commission, and countless soldiers whose lives have been destroyed by discrimination, there is neither a rational nor a moral basis for retaining Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. The only thing keeping it in place is pure bigotry.

2. So, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is bad for the U.S., but what does that have to do with military recruiters at our law school? We have an anti-discrimination policy that includes sexual orientation. We demand that all employers interviewing on-campus sign a statement that they will abide by our policy. The military, however, is exempt. Congress threatens funding for the entire university if we do not violate our own anti-discrimination policy. The effect of this is that JAG gets to push their way in against the school’s own rules, use our resources, and then say that regardless of our excellent performance, I and others will not be hired by them.

Very reasonable people who are against Don’t Ask Don’t Tell will tell you that JAG recruiters should still be allowed in order to maintain our military and to dismantle the discriminatory policy from the inside-out. With all due respect to them, this would never be a question if it were women being excluded from hiring, or Muslims, or any other suspect minority, as it should not be. We all pay the same tuition, but some of us are not afforded equal opportunity. Students need to stand up and send a message to our leaders by saying that this behavior is not acceptable to us. The administration needs to do so as well. Perhaps the leaders of JAG will finally pass along the message to the Pentagon that Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is jeopardizing their efforts to be effective agents of the law just as it is jeopardizing efforts to protect our country.

3. I want to make this a bit more personal now. It was never my intention to get involved in gay activist work during my law school career. I’ve done identity politics, and I was hoping to be known as more than just That Gay Guy. Ms. O’Neill’s effort in protest of an issue that doesn’t even affect her, though, has moved me to action too. The main reason for that is, as a JAG officer, one of your responsibilities would be to prosecute gay service members. If you are in JAG, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is more than a nebulous policy, it is your policy to uphold. I don’t seriously believe that most of my classmates would want to prosecute me simply because I share my life with a male partner of six years. That soldier could be me, or any number of our classmates, friends, or relatives.

So long as they continue to be a part of the military’s discriminatory practices, JAG does not belong on our campus.

Image snatched from the Servicemembers Legal Defense Network.

The Golden Globes

Lately my inner voice has been uncharacteristically silent. Why I cannot say, but I can tell you this for certain: there’s nothing like Rule 9 of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure to make me say, “Gee whiz, I sure do feel like blabbing about celebrities tonight.” Funny how that seems to co-ordinate with the most drunken show in Hollywood outside of Britney Spears’ New Year’s party, The Golden Globes.

So without further ado, here is the pre-show and show commentary. May God forgive me for being a terribly evil man.

6:37pm
The E! show started earlier, but none of the real stars show up this early, and I am not in the mood to see Ryan Peecrust vamp for 30 minutes. Anyway, here we are, and I have to tell you first off, do you know why I like Sheryl Crow? When life gives her a lemon, she wears it. Lance Armstrong dumps her and takes back the ring, and my girl goes and wears one of the bridesmaid dresses to the Globes. You go girl!

6:40pm
It’s a good thing Vanessa Williams isn’t a big star because it means no one is going to have to sit behind her Latina drag queen wig. Vanessa darlin', that hair isn't appropriate unless your name is Chi-Chi and you're lipsyncing Gloria Estefan songs for dollar bills.

6:45pm
You’d think Tina Fey wouldn’t get so dressed up for a PTA meeting.

6:48pm
Penelope Cruz has a fantastic dress, but that hair is proof of why dating a homo isn’t always a bad thing for a woman. You look at that hair and think, Doolittle Lynn is back in Butcher Holllow taking care of those babies while she’s out on tour with Patsy Cline.

6:58pm
If you’re a member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, you shouldn’t frame your girls with a bunch of beads to emphasize them. I’m talking to you, Eva Longoria.

7:01pm
I am glad Marc Anthony’s aversion to daylight didn’t stop his wife from showing off her mami’s serape.

7:06pm
I was so excited about Elaine Boosler making a comeback, that is until I discovered that it was really Kyra Sedgwick. My disappointment was tempered, though, by how very proud Isiah Washington made me by not calling Ryan Seacrest a fag.

7:13pm
Does the fact that Puffy Puff Daddy P. Diddy Diddy Wheat Puff is dressed like a busted version of Hugh Heffner finally convince everyone that he is not a fashion icon?

7:18pm
With all of these actresses in white in January, I can’t help but wonder where is Serial Mom when you need her?

7:20pm
The blonde gal from “Grey’s Anatomy” is a-ma-zing! Dress, jewels, hair…perfection! Oh, her escort is the gay guy from “Grey’s.” That explains a lot.

7:22pm
Ever since Felicity Huffman played a trannie, she’s been drama on the red carpet. I highly recommend it for other actresses.

7:30pm
Cate Blanchett seems to be on the Edge of Seventeen. She sees your Gypsy, and asks that you Stand Back.

7:36pm
Poor Jeremy Piven. He thought he’d get to talk on camera if he came early, then Brad and Angelina defied normal red carpet rules by showing up early, and the Piv got cut off mid-sentence. Damn you and your rebel lifestyle, Brangelina, and your false eyelashes of power!

7:40pm
What the hell kind of Proud Mary drag queen pageant bullshit has Tina Knowles made her daughter wear to the Golden Globes?! And why does she look like she’s been buttered? Nobody is that damn ashy!

7:43pm
Every time I see Zellweger, I want to smack her with a rolled-up newspaper and ask, “What have you done? Bad girl! What have you done to your face?!”

7:59pm
I can’t believe Ryan Semencrest almost made it through his entire broadcast without denying that he’s a big ‘mo. Granted, when he does finally deny it, all I can think is that he needs to have a big glass of Shut the Fuck Up, but still, two hours is a lot of restraint.

It’s showtime! Also, I've lost the ability to tell time at this point!

• They get right on it this year with the awards, and I’m so happy for Jennifer Hudson, the true star of the only movie I’ve seen twice at the theater in years! I hate her dress, but someone hooked her up with a good lacefront, so good for her. Of course, when Miss Ross hears that comment she made about Florence Ballard, she’s going to snatch it right off J-Hud’s head. And look, Beyonce’ is crying! Either she knows she is about to lose Best Song to Prince or Jigga poked her in the eyes.
• Given how Jeremy Irons is dressed and how he looks tonight, I’m terribly afraid there is a problem with scurvy in Hollywood.
• Edie Falco just proved that there is in fact an outbreak of scurvy in Hollywood. Get those stars a sack of oranges, stat!
• Third cocktail of the night, and I’m already a little bored.
• That old lady beat Beyonce’ for Best Actress? WTF?! What kind of old farts vote for these awards anyway?
• During the commercial break, Prince put his hand on the camera to hide himself after not showing up to accept the award he won. Here’s an idea: if you don’t want to be on camera, you might not want to show up at an awards show, Stretch. Oh, also, if you’re trying to be anonymous, you might want to reconsider that bedazzled mustard yellow Nehru jacket.
• Overheard at the Globes: Robert Duvall says to his publicist, “Did I just get beaten by Bill Nye the Science Guy? Seriously? You are so effin fired.”
• Sienna Miller was previously known as that girl Jude Law cheated on. Now she’s just that greasy British chick. Nice lateral move, Sienna.
• Cameron Diaz looks like her dress was made by a gay mummy who lost in the first round of Project Runway. If I were Justin Timberlake, I'd dump her twice just for good measure.
  
• I love that they always give a brief shout-out to the Ernst and Young accountants on these shows, and I wonder who exactly I have to sleep with to get my accountant pal Amy on the Globes to count those votes.
• I’m not drunk. Jamie Foxx, now he’s drunk.
• Jamie Foxx isn’t drunk. Sharon Stone, now she’s DRUNK!
• I don’t even care what anyone else says, I think Clint Eastwood looks hot dressed as a Solid Gold Dancer.
• This may be the first time Drew Barrymore has looked like a woman instead of a perpetual girl. It suits her. Yes, I'm not making a snarky remark, I really think she looks pretty. Damn, I must be really cocktailed now!
  
• I’m seriously crying for America Ferrera. Everyone is crying for her because it is so lovely to see someone who is genuinely grateful for their award. You know when Will Smith’s dykey wife is crying, you’ve said some stuff to move folks. On a nicer note, it is wonderful to see a normal, healthy, beautiful woman win. In fact, the best dressed ladies tonight were all normal-shaped women, which perhaps will inspire the Olsens to eat a damn cookie.

So, that’s the Golden Globes this year. If you want my commentary on the Oscars in 2007, you might suggest that my professors assign something really dull that night as well. We’ll wrap things up with the best and worst dressed.

Best-dressed: Eddie Murphy in an all-black Dolce & Gabbana tuxedo and Felicity Huffman in an emerald dream of a gown.

Worst-dressed: Jeremy Irons in his Ass-Pirates of the Caribbean ensemble and Cameron Diaz looking like a very fluffy tampon.

The Weekly Cheese: Cover Version Edition

There's a long-standing practice in pop music where pop tarts of varying talent re-record big hits in a bid to boost their own profile. This especially seems to be true for singers who do not write their own material, and who are faced with a shortage of hits to record. The assumption, of course, is that if it was a hit once, throw on a few synth riffs and it will be a hit again. Often they are right, but the results can be tragic as we'll see in this edition of The Weekly Cheese.

Bananarama & Lananeeneenoonoo, "Help!"

Brit comedy team French & Saunders used their act to parody Bananarama (then the biggest music group in the UK) and their cheesy dance routines, shirtless male dancers, and studio produced vocals. They called themselves Lananeeneenoonoo. Anyway, the Bananas thought it was so funny, they collaborated with the comedians on this cover of the Beatles classic. At least it was for charity.




Paulina Rubio, "I Was Made For Loving You"

I put this one in just to annoy Val. In her quest for a crossover hit, Paulina covered this Kiss song on her English-language debut. I hated the original version, but this hot mess is like nails across a chalkboard.




Samantha Fox, "I Only Wanna Be With You"

Those of you who know me well know of my Dusty Springfield obsession. Rumor has it that Dusty liked this version of her first 60's solo hit. I think it would give an Osmond a cavity. The trash can theme in the video is no coincidence if you ask me.



Kylie Minogue, "The Locomotion"

You know it hurts me to post this. She was young, and both Little Eva and I forgive her.



Britney Spears, "I Love Rock and Roll"

I wonder if she had to show her bacon flaps to Joan Jett to get permission for this travesty. At least she doesn't show them to us here.




And sometimes, very seldomly, a goddess gets it right and shows the others how it is done.



Well played, Cher.

Trading Faces Trend Watch: Accessories

The style gurus here at Trading Faces have noticed as of late that the rubber message bracelet trend has extended to the adult film industry. The Lance Armstrong-sponsored LiveStrong bracelets are proving particularly popular. This does not surprise us as the bracelets can have a multitude of uses in porn and are far easier to clean that more traditional porn accessories, creating a versatile look that should prove wearable for multiple seasons to come.




Well played, gentlemen. Well played indeed.


Screen capture from Oscar contender "A Matter of Size 2," a film that while more fashion-forward than its predecessor, lacks the emotional core of the original.

Avada Kedavra

When Lord Voldemort activates the Dark Mark, Ashley Olsen needs to learn it is not time to be out shopping.


photo shamelessly lifted from the evil genius of D-Listed.

Fight for the cervical cancer vaccine!

Sorry I've been so quiet, but I'm taking a blog break because I'm not feeling particularly inspired. At least not inspired to lamely attempt to make you laugh. However, I am inspired to have you get up and fight. The Family Foundation of Kentucky is lobbying against a bill in the Kentucky legislature that will add the cervical cancer vaccine to the list of vaccines girls are required to get while in elementary school. Because the FDA-approved vaccine (invented here in The Ville!) prevents HPV, a virus that causes almost all cervical cancers, and because that virus is sexually-transmitted, they argue that giving this vaccine encourages sex. WTF?!

The fact is 74% of Americans carry HPV. Regardless of when a woman decides to become sexually active, she is most likely going to get the virus that can lead to cervical cancer. Are we really so afraid of sex that we're willing to let women die for it? I've set up a new blog called Kentuckians Against Cervical Cancer where I am attempting to collect the stories and photos of Kentucky families touched by cervical cancer. The idea is to get their faces out there before the public and the legislature to let them know that this is not about morality, sex, or anything else other than saving Kentucky families. If you have a story for us, please visit the blog and share it. And if your state is proposing similar legislation (California and Michigan are at the moment), I encourage you to support it in any way you can.