The Annekenstein Monster

It’s pretty sad when “better than pleasant” is the best that Paula “I think your farts sound cute, but you know I love you” Abdul can summon up in terms of high praise.

*shudder* I had a nightmare last night that Gloria Estafan was the guest judge for American Idol, and the ‘kids’ had to sing her shitty songs. *shudder*

I’ll tell you right off that I missed the first 30 minutes of American Idol last night. Truth be told, I kinda wish I missed the whole thing. My god, how bland. Still, I’ll critique the first three performers, even though I didn’t see them. Except for the brief 4 second recap at the end of the show.

First up:
Jennifer Hudson…No wait. She got voted out of the competition. Before Crooner John.

First up, Fantasia…another upbeat number, forcing audience participation. I’m guessing her voice irritated those who don’t like her, and even those who were firmly in her camp are starting to lose faith. So profoundly did last week’s vote shake things up. She dedicated her performance to Jennifer Hudson, I hear. I didn’t even know she was sick.

Next, George Huff…his facial expressions are getting more and more animated. I wonder if Pixar is secretly behind the lovable cuddly that is George Huff. His singing, I gather, hasn’t recovered from his two week slide into uh oh. I predict next week George blows the socks off America. He is so due. This week wasn’t strike three. Rather a foul ball into the opposition team’s dugout.

Then, LaToya Jackson…from the 4 second recap, I couldn’t tell how she performed, so I’ll guess. LaToya was okay. If I was feeling randy, I might even say she was aaiight. Wait…just a sec…hyuughhhggh… hyuughhggh… those were dry heaves. I just re-read the part of the sentence where I wrote “feeling Randy”. Hyuughhggh… I declare, sight unseen and sound unheard, LaToya’s performace Dry Toast.

Fourth, Crooner John… Hyuuughhggh. Let me don my too-tight white t-shirt, red pants, goatee and an attitude so that I can say: Worst. Singing. Ever.
For the love of god, Humanity, vote this schlepp off the island!

Fifth, Hawaiin Girl…batting .333 is great in baseball. But when you only hit one out of every three notes. You’re off the team! Or, in America’s mind, You’re in the Top Three! To be fair, those one-in-three-correct notes she did manage, she hit them out of the park! And wasn’t that flower cute. Awwww! Jasmine, you know how much Paula loves you. She loves you enough to lie to you that you have a good, strong voice. Awwww!

Sixth, Diana LaGuardia… I remember when Diana was this >

It’s pretty sad when “better than pleasant” is the best that Paula “I think your farts sound cute, but you know I love you” Abdul can summon up in terms of high praise.

*shudder* I had a nightmare last night that Gloria Estafan was the guest judge for American Idol, and the ‘kids’ had to sing her shitty songs. *shudder*

I’ll tell you right off that I missed the first 30 minutes of American Idol last night. Truth be told, I kinda wish I missed the whole thing. My god, how bland. Still, I’ll critique the first three performers, even though I didn’t see them. Except for the brief 4 second recap at the end of the show.

First up:
Jennifer Hudson…No wait. She got voted out of the competition. Before Crooner John.

First up, Fantasia…another upbeat number, forcing audience participation. I’m guessing her voice irritated those who don’t like her, and even those who were firmly in her camp are starting to lose faith. So profoundly did last week’s vote shake things up. She dedicated her performance to Jennifer Hudson, I hear. I didn’t even know she was sick.

Next, George Huff…his facial expressions are getting more and more animated. I wonder if Pixar is secretly behind the lovable cuddly that is George Huff. His singing, I gather, hasn’t recovered from his two week slide into uh oh. I predict next week George blows the socks off America. He is so due. This week wasn’t strike three. Rather a foul ball into the opposition team’s dugout.

Then, LaToya Jackson…from the 4 second recap, I couldn’t tell how she performed, so I’ll guess. LaToya was okay. If I was feeling randy, I might even say she was aaiight. Wait…just a sec…hyuughhhggh… hyuughhggh… those were dry heaves. I just re-read the part of the sentence where I wrote “feeling Randy”. Hyuughhggh… I declare, sight unseen and sound unheard, LaToya’s performace Dry Toast.

Fourth, Crooner John… Hyuuughhggh. Let me don my too-tight white t-shirt, red pants, goatee and an attitude so that I can say: Worst. Singing. Ever.
For the love of god, Humanity, vote this schlepp off the island!

Fifth, Hawaiin Girl…batting .333 is great in baseball. But when you only hit one out of every three notes. You’re off the team! Or, in America’s mind, You’re in the Top Three! To be fair, those one-in-three-correct notes she did manage, she hit them out of the park! And wasn’t that flower cute. Awwww! Jasmine, you know how much Paula loves you. She loves you enough to lie to you that you have a good, strong voice. Awwww!

Sixth, Diana LaGuardia… I remember when Diana was this >

I had heard about the awfulness that is the TV program Scare Tactics. A couple of nights ago, though, I experienced it first hand, and I was repulsed.

If you don’t know what it is, here’s a synopsis: So-And-So is host, and sets up each wacky scenario. Then we see someone get traumatized, then they tell her she’s on Scare Tactics, and they all laugh.
The two scenarios I came across were as follows. Number one: Some rich guy is, apparently, wanting to hire an assistant. At his mansion, he and another assistant (the grifters) lure an unsuspecting young woman (the mark) into the house, I assume, from an ad. Just as the interview begins, a message comes across the intercom/message machine, for all to hear. The message comes from a wacked out fanatic female stalker.
Guy tells victim not to worry, she’s crazy, but can’t get in. SMASH! Something smashed through a bedroom window. Quick, victim and already-assistant, go investigate. “We’re creeped out, but okay…” They go to the bedroom, see a brick that was thrown through a window, with a scary note attached. “We’re even more creeped!”.
They come badk in the main room, and see the guy tied up in a chair, with blood trickling from his head. Crazzee Woman is there, wielding a real-size Clue Impliment. Totally freaked out, the victim is told to sit on the sofa, and then to help tie up the victim.

That was enough for me. I switched the channel. After a quick perusal of other channels, though, I was back.

This time, a young female victim, and another young woman were in a big old house in the woods. It’s night, and apparently some monster is skulking around outside. Some guy is outside with a shotgun, investigating. Victim is getting really freaked, especially when they see the hairy monster slink past windows of the house. Some Guy comes smashing in through a patio door, glass flying everywhere. Followed by Sasquatch.
Victim freaks out, but “hold on, don’t freak out. You’re on Scare Tactics.”

This is the lamest, least interesting crap of schlock on television today. Bleccchh!

I tell ya, Allan Funt is somewhere rolling over in his grave. Of course, his toupe stays in place, making the other patrons of the cemetary do a double take. Now that was comedy!

That was definately enough for me. I’ll not be returning.

Sketch 22, our summer sketch comedy show is coming along very well, thank you. In fact, we have a tentative running order for our sketches and videos, and it’s not yet May. How does this timeline equate to other summertime sketch comedy shows I’ve been involved in? Well, for those, now would probably be the time that we start thinking about maybe committing to putting on a show. So, we’re pretty far ahead of the curve this year.
The sketches themselves are in various states of readiness, many are close to being finished, and we have a couple of hilariously funny videos already in the can.

The next video we shoot should be extra fun. We have a sketch where tourism officials are desperately running out of time and are having difficulty coming up with the next year’s PEI tourism video campaign. They mistakenly leave it in the hands of a friend of a friend of a friend, who just happens to be a producer of pornographic movies. The tourism video he comes up with is very much of his world, and stars some of his stable of actors.

I love the porn actor names we came up with:

Cassandra Cummings, Dick Vertical, Rock Hardon, and (the best porn name I’ve ever come up with:) Kitty Glissenpussy

Honk honk

Honk honk

Alright, I’m playing along.

From The Crow Road, by Iain Banks:

“A season was a decade, and every year a life.”

It the thing to do:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

.

Today I learned about a big hotel (not sure which one) in Vancouver, that has a dog that lives in the lobby, and it befriends guests. Isn’t that a great idea to make people feel comfortable?
That conversation moved into a brief talk about Vicki Gabareau’s TV show, of which the above hotel is a sponsor.
Then to seeing Charlottetown’s guitarist extraordinaire, Chris Corrigan, on Vicki’s show one time. He was playing guitar for Rita MacNeil.
The reference to Chris Corrigan spurred memories of The Dogs, and how great it was to go to Pat’s Rose & Grey, and to The Dip to watch them play. I remember countless nights of watching Chris play guitar, back when I had slight aspirations of becoming proficient on the guitar.
From Chris, we moved to Mike Mooney, and how he’d stick his tongue out, like a lizard, when he sang.
Mike brought back memories of the band Touch & Gone, and we were trying to remember the name of the guy who sang, and who’d (irritatingly to me) play air guitar during the guitar solos.
Which brought back memories of the Dixon Road hippies who’d dance and float about on the dance floor during those solos.
The dance floor made us think of how great it used to be to go to dances at the old Montage Dance building (it burned down, youngsters). And not just going to dances there, but about how great the building was. Big rooms great for all kinds of multi-purpose arts uses.

Which brings me to this question: Why doesn’t Charlottetown have a place like that now? The ARTS Guild is the closest thing, but it just doesn’t work (except for when Sketch 22 performs there, Thursday and Friday nights, July and August this summer).

So many speculations about Ryan Seacrest’s sexuality, most implying he’s gay. If he is, how great would it be if he said so.

Besides that, though, I come to this post because of this quote, which he said this week on AI, after Crazzee-Eyez Hudson got the boot:

“America, don’t forget you have to vote for the talent. You have to keep your favorites in the competition.”

Well, which is it, Mr. Seacrest? You want we should vote for the talent, or to keep our favourites in the competition? Mean to say, if’n our favourites in the competition aren’t necessarily the talent, then we have a problem.

After a couple days of reflection on this week’s American Idol, I have this to say, then on to other things: I think the producers of the show are probably pretty excited about the outcome this week. This controversy has certainly stirred up the pot, and even more people will likely be tuning in next week. You can bet, they don’t mind losing one of the divas.
Also, when I was watching the awful Barry Manilow song (which he performed quite well, however. Shows how much of a professional he is compared to these Idol wannabees) about ‘Freedom’, with the video of waving American flags in the background, I was struck by the idea that Americans have been brainwashed into the concept that Freedom=America. I doubt they can imagine the word freedom without thinking of America. I think that’s why so many get bothered with them.