The Hills: For Better Or Worse

You know the drill by now. Episode can be viewed here.

Another fairly mundane episode this week. Lauren learns that Jason is engaged, Spencer and Heidi make me reach for the Emetrol yet again and everyone drinks! (My tolerance to alcohol at this point is pathetic. After pickling my liver at The Best Friend's birthday bash in July, I haven't been able to stomach more than one drink, regardless of what it is.)

Drinking with rock stars always means doing more than one shot. I don't pal around with rock stars on a daily basis or anything, but I have read Hammer of the Gods enough times to realize that any rock star worth his salt is probably half-a-step away from being a full-fledged alcoholic.

The fact that Heidi doesn't get Spencer's impassivity to china and other registry items proves that she is woefully ignorant when it comes to the nuances of men. As a general rule, most heterosexual men do not get all a'flutter when confronted with place settings. You want to see men get really excited about something? Round up his boys and toss a Wii, a copy of Madden 2008 and a 24-pack of beer in the mix.

In regards to Jason and Katja's engagement -- dub? This was pretty much my reaction too.



Yeah.

Why would a girl with a future (Katja Decker-Sadowski is a national tennis champ) want to get her fingerprints all over that train wreck? I realize that women are attracted to bad boys, but there's 'Bad Boy' and then, there's lifetime liability...and guess which category Wahler falls into?

Why was everyone playing dress-up this episode? Heidi looked like a little girl who got a little too into her Bridal Barbie playset. And Whitney with that fedora and those oversized red-framed sunglasses? Yikes. No, honey. No. I realize vintage is very cool, but a smash-and-grab of the $0.50 table at Goodwill is never a good idea.



Quote of the Week: Again, our winner is Lauren for this little vocal gem: "I don't picture my engagement party to have a keg and a Bob Marley poster." If you are in possession of either, you're probably not old enough to be considering marriage or possibly even drinking legally. Oh yeah and odds are, you're also a massive toolbox.

And speaking of tools, it's time for another edition of You Look Like A Pratt!

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This week, Pratt-Daddy unveiled, 'The Beavis' -- an insult to low-brow humor fans everywhere. The resemblance really is startling. Everything from the fluffy blond pompadour to those harpic white teeth.

And while we're on the subject, you know what kind of asshole is embarrassed to tell his folks that he's getting married? The same kind of asshole who would stage a faux engagement for a reality show.

Next week: Vegas, baby, Vegas! More Lo! More Brody! And our favorite hyphenate return -- oh, Justin-Bobby.

I am disgusted...

Do we really live in a country where a man is arrested for asking a question?

Should a man be dragged away, wrestled to the ground and tased for using up his "alloted time" at a public debate?

21-year-old Andrew Meyer, a communications major at the University of Florida, was arrested and repeatedly tased for asking Sen John Kerry (D-Mass.) questions regarding the 2004 election and Kerry's involvement in Yale's Skull and Bones secret society.

Meyer didn't yell 'Fire' in a crowded area. He didn't threaten Kerry nor anyone else. He just asked questions...and UFPD, being the power-tripping rent-a-cops they are, hurled Meyer to the floor and jolted him with electricity, blatantly ignoring his cries for help and pleas of, "Don't tase me, bro."

John Kerry claims not to have heard Meyer's screams, but I find that hard to believe. His anguished howls tore through the auditorium and for anyone to claim aural ignorance? It's not only sad, but it must be a lie. I respect Kerry for stating that he wanted Meyer to continue with his line of questioning, but don't understand how one man can sonorously drone on and on while another lies screaming in pain mere feet away.

Asking questions might warrant a physical altercation with law enforcement in a dictatorial nation, but America is not a dictatorship and we, as Americans, have the right to ask whatever the hell we wish without fear of persecution.

The police do not have the right to brutalize law-abiding citizens. Six police officers armed with tasers versus one college student is not a fair fight and I sincerely hope that the officers involved in this incident are prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

We're being told that we're fighting for freedom and democracy in Iraq. Maybe we should be be fighting for it at home first.

Links:

TheAndrewMeyer.com
MSNBC coverage
The Gainesville Sun coverage
Michelle Malkin -- a truly despicable human being in every sense of the word.
Jon Robin Baitz -- More Pinter Than Pythom @ The Huffington Post
Greg Lukianoff -- Florida Tasers Away Student Rights @ The Huffington Post
Nick Antosca -- Kerry Should Be Ashamed and the Cop Who Tased Andrew Meyer Should Be Jailed

The Hills: They Meet Again

You know the drill. Catch the show here and read the comments below:

Spencer's pseudo-slop was nauseating. "I miss you..." Dude, she's in the same city and you'll be blowing up her cell all day. Now, I realize there might be a little of the pot/kettle situation happening here considering just how much I write about missing my fiance, but for the most part, 1000 miles separated us -- not approximately 30 Starbucks locations (What's that, like five miles in L.A.?)

Speaking of Working Gal Barbie -- that's exactly what Heidi resembled: a working gal. She needs to pick up an issue of Glamour because that much cleavage at work? Definitely a don't.

The Ketchup thing was painfully planned for optimum drama. I mean, they live in Los Angeles where a new bar opens every half-hour. Would it really have been that hard for Heidi and Spencer (Spiedi? Henser?) to find a different venue to patronize?

Quote of the Week: The honor goes again to Lauren. Upon seeing Jason bobbing around idiotically in his seat, Miss Conrad commented, "That's good. You should do that when you meet people." With dry, cool wit like that -- she could be an action hero. Runner-up? Heidi of all people for the snarky, "Maybe they're back into movie-making action..." Now, I'm not saying Heidi and Spencer are the ones who spread that rumor, but judging by the look on her face -- I'd say it was pretty obvious.



Or...maybe she was just in serious need of a bowel movement. You know, other than Spencer.

Oh and speaking of Miss Montag -- who taught her the word, 'baffling'? Hearing her say that was like watching a chimp use tools for the first time. I was, well...baffled by it.

Love Lauren's gray dress! I can't find a picture of it anywhere yet, but as soon as I do -- I want. I want. I want.

Homeboy probably would poison Lauren's drink. And on that note, it's time for this week's edition of: You Look Like A Pratt.

This week, I noticed Spencer making a face that looked like an unholy union between Egon Spengler and Slimer, both from the 1984 classic, Ghostbusters. I like to refer to this face as the Slime-gler:


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Unfortunately, I couldn't find a screencap of the face, so this week -- use your imaginations and check out Pratt Daddy throwing up some seriously distended hand-signs. 90038 REPRESENT!

Score for Elodie. I'd glad she gave Heidi a dressing down because Miss Montag is in dire need of one. When all of your friends jump ship, that probably means you did something wrong.

Why didn't my Loser Ex ever buy me a Chanel handbag? I don't remember that dude buying me as much as a stick of gum. Although, my loser ex never resembled a beaver in heat, so maybe it all evens out.

Final thoughts:

If we substituted a letter in the word 'aunt', we'd have a pretty good description of Heidi and Pratt-Daddy? The word begins with a 'C' and ends with an 'R', but ain't 'Contractor.'

In regards to next week's episode -- who doesn't tell their parents about their upcoming nuptials? Douchebags, that's who. Heidi, welcome to the life of being a Starter Wife. You better get yourself an iron-clad pre-nup, darling.

Oh and real quick before I dash off, let's talk about the Tila Tequila show. She's not straight and she's not gay. She's just a ho, fo' sho'.

How To Make A Grouchy Jaime

+ Searching for a vein in my arm is not like searching for the Holy Grail. It's not that hard. I am not Cusho -- the Human Pincushion. I am a 24-year-old with a slightly irrational fear of blood and needles. Be nice, be sympathetic but most of all, be quick. The last thing I need is for someone to tell me that I, "scared the vein away" before they jam another needle into my flesh. Inept medical 'professionals' = Grouchy Jaime.

+ The knowledge that the three Band-aids Medi-Wench slapped onto my flesh today will have to painfully be ripped off very soon = Grouchy Jaime

+ Paps' bedside manner = Grouchy Jaime. Yes, I've always been scared of needles and blood and no, saying, 'it's not so bad' and telling me to, 'deal with it' has never worked to make me feel better. Why, dear God, do you think it would work now? Oh and telling me that Sparky would treat me the exact same way? LIES! She would hold my hand and then, procure both pizza and DVDs for the both of us.

+ No car. No Chipotle. No Publix subs. No Wawa Iced Tea. All of these (or lack thereof) = Grouchy Jaime

+ The Best Friend might not be able to make it down to El Dub this week. No quality time = Grouchy Jaime.

+ Missing my baby = Grouchy Jaime. No kisses, no bean game (no, it's not some bizarro covert sexual reference. I'm talking about Dr. Robotnik's Mean Bean Machine), no Veronica Marsathons, no waking up to awesome music = Grande No Whip, Extra Foam, Double Shot Grouchy Jaime.

The Hills: Second Chances + more of MTV's exhaust fume television

You know the drill by now. Episode here and thoughts below.

A fairly quiet episode this week despite the return of Jason and Heidi's Lady-Macbeth-as-a-ninny impersonation. So quiet, in fact, that this week, we don't have a quote of the week nor do we get to play You Look Like A Pratt. A damn shame, that, but hopefully, next week will make up it. Anyway, moving on:

Lauren's relationship with Jason reminds me of The Godfather (as well as a soured relationship of my own): "Just when I thought that I was out, they pull me back in!" Thank God she didn't follow it up with Al Pacino's signature 'Hoo-ahhh!' That would have been disturbing.

Without Spencer's Machiavellian scheming, Heidi wouldn't have even have thought to snake the position from Elodie. No-one deserves the job more than Heidi?! Come on! What does she even do? Does loitering around the Bolthouse offices and provides her boss with gossip regarding her ex-BFFE really constitute as 'work'? Spencer is definitely the Iago to Heidi's (very stupid, very blonde) Othello. I can't believe Heidi actually had the gall to tell Elodie that she, "didn't want to step on anyone's toes." Isn't that exactly what she did?

Derek and Jarrett -- is there some factory in Jersey that mass-produces guys like this? The gym-rat-tight-tee-wearing-overgelled idiot? Does anyone actually find this attractive? Lauren said she wanted to stab herself in the eye during this excruciating date. I wanted to stab myself in the eye while watching this excruciatingly painful encounter. I mean, honestly -- who dedicates that much time to talking about vintage shirts that cost $0.40?

Let's talk Jason -- still looks like a feral beaver and still reeks of Eau de Douche. His appearance on The Hills isn't what interests me, though. MTV finally jumped on the Dancing/Skating/Knitting with the Celebrities bandwagon with Celebrity Rap Superstar -- a show that couples Q-list hip-hop hopefuls with rappers as their mentors. The 'talent' on this show?

Shar Jackson (I have this theory that your celebrity stock immediately plummets when you come into contact with Federline DNA), Perez Hilton (who kinda looks like he'll be appearing on an episode of To Catch A Predator in the very-near future)



See what I mean?

Sebastian Bach (Is there a television show he won't do?), Countess Vaughan (The Curse of Moesha, perhaps? It's like the Poltergeist curse...only much, much lamer), Jamal Anderson of the Atlanta Falcons (one too many hits to the head?), Playboy Playmate and Girl-Next-Door Kendra Wilkinson (because one lame reality-based television show just isn't enough), Efren Ramirez (that poor bastard will be known as 'Pedro' for the res of his life, no matter what he does) and rounding out this cast of winners is our very own J.Wahl.



I caught him on TV a couple of nights ago performing the LL Cool J classic, Goin' Back To Cali. Now, I know they say there's too much violence in hip-hop but if Uncle LL appeared and knocked him out, I think it would be completely justified.

What Lauren ever saw in this toolbox,I'll never understand.

Next week -- more Lauren and Jason! More Heidi and Spencer! And hopefully, a little less Justin-Bobby.

Thoughts on Britney Spears' Video Music Awards Performance

Gimme More? No. Please don't. Seriously. I've had enough.

Spears looked like she should have been gyrating at a strip club by the airport instead of being onstage at the Video Music Awards. There was nothing remotely entertaining about the performance. To call it 'mediocre' would be a kindness Spears definitely doesn't deserve. She barely lip synced and barely danced. The entire performance was far more insulting than any of Sarah Silverman's jabs. I think The Fiance put it best when he said, "This is like watching a really bad high school talent show."

"It's Britney, bitch." We know, bitch. Your exploits have been splashed all over various media outlets for entirely too long now. And when did usage of the word 'bitch' become analogous with 'edgy'?

What good is blowing Criss Angel if you can't get some bad-ass magician theatrics out of it?!

I wonder how Camp Britney is going to spin this? I mean, what's the best way of saying, "Our client was out boozing it up until the wee hours and didn't really feel it was her responsibility as an entertainer, to actually entertain" without actually saying, "Our client was out boozing it up until the wee hours and didn't really feel it was her responsibility as an entertainer, to actually entertain."

I read that Spears makes approximately $700,000 a month. You'd think she could take some money out of her Cheetos-and-Red-Bull fund to purchase some better quality hair extensions. Helpful hint -- Claire's at the local mall? Not the best place to buy weave.

Face of the night: 50 Cent.



The expression is classic -- "Trick! Sit yo' tired ass down."

Oh God - this is somebody's mother.

It Begins...

Because I am an ass of epic proportions, I missed the Colts laying the pimp-hand down on the Saints last night (41-10). Kinda bummed about that, but definitely looking forward to the 2007-2008 season.

Does living in a new city mean new allegiances? Philly may be filled with beer and cheesesteak-fueled Eagles fanatics, but this girl's still rocking the orange and teal. And this year, like every other, I'm convinced that we'll be making it to the big show.

Yes, our quarterback is almost eligible for social security and yes, we have another new coach but we're the only undefeated Super Bowl winners in the history of the NFL, we're the only pro team Dan Marino played for and we were among the stars of the 1994 Jim Carrey classic, Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. If that doesn't qualify us as Super Bowl material, I don't know what does.

Being a Dolphins fan, you quickly learn to love having your still-beating heart ripped out of your chest and stomped on as if someone was putting out a fire. But when we win (especially when we beat the Pats, Jets or Bills), it heals all. There's nothing more beautiful than seeing Tom Brady's pitiful face falling against a backdrop of cheering fans decked in orange and teal. And this year, we've got a secret weapon. Well, three of them, actually.

Samoans -- fullback Reagan Mauia, center Samson Satele and defensive tackle Paul Soliai. Genetically, Samoans are superior athletes. They're big, they're tough and they can make Rice Krispies out of bones. Take Soliai, for example.



6'4" and tipping the scales at 344 lbs. Dude's built like a brick shithouse. And not only is he huge, but he can move. In 2007, big man ran the 40-yard dash in 5.02 seconds and had a 30 1/2 inch vertical jump. To put that in perspective for you -- Soliai can jump half my entire height. Yeah. Bad-ass.

In addition to unabashed optimism, the start of season also means foaming at the mouth while reading Sports Guy Bill Simmons' picks every week. Now, I love Simmons. I think he's funny, intelligent and a great writer. But, he's also a die-hard Pats fan and his picks, more often than not, suck. His wife (the delightfully charming Sports Gal), on the other hand, is awesome and in addition to making great picks, she also waxes philosophical on the really important matters (i.e.: what the hell is Heidi thinking in regards to Spencer and who had the better sideburns -- Brandon or Dylan?). For his week one pick, Simmons had this to say:

REDSKINS (-3) over Dolphins
The Dolphins' fans are angry that I stuck them in the Bruce Coslet Division yesterday; this is on the heels of Tampa fans being mad about the Tropicana Field photo essay; and the Jacksonville fans still being ticked because I made fun of their city two years ago when the NFL stupidly awarded them a Super Bowl. I'm slowly turning all of Florida against me and couldn't be prouder.

(Next up: Orlando! If you ever wanted to know why the terrorists hate us, just spend a week there and it will all make sense. I've been there twice and there won't be a third time. No wonder Shaq fled for L.A.)

Firstly, we're gonna spank the Pats just like we do every year, so you and your team can suck it. Secondly, Orlando's not that bad a city. I lived there for four years and had a great time and finally, listen to your wife! She was smart enough to pick the 'Fins over the 'Skins and come Sunday, she's gonna reap the rewards.

So yeah, football season's upon us and I couldn't be happier. In the past, the Dolphins have made both me and Hootie cry, but this year? Tears of joy, baby. Like the fight song says, "When you say Miami, you're talking Super Bowl!"

RIP Luciano Pavarotti

Luciano Pavarotti died today of pancreatic cancer. He was 71.

The English hold a bit of a special place in their hearts for Pavarotti. After all, his majestic rendition of Nessun Dorma from Puccini's Turandot scored England's World Cup hopes during Italia '90.

I think Mark Oliver of The Guardian put it best: "It may have been mercilessly parodied and ridiculed for its mass, housewife CD-buying popularity but it was the tournament's greatest ever TV theme."

I can't listen to the piece without red and white imagery flashing through my mind -- a victorious goal. An ecstatic footballer sliding on his knees while clutching his shirt, his face alight with joy. A thunderous crowd roaring with approval.

Italia '90 was 17 years ago (and we ended up losing to West Germany in a penalty shoot-out...which reminds me of a Gary Lineker quote: "Football is a simple game; 22 men chase a ball for 90 minutes and at the end, the Germans win") and since then, the English team has had numerous songs detailing their glory -- Fat Les' Vindaloo, The Lightning Seeds' Three Lions but in my mind, Nessun Dorma will always be the unmitigated anthem of English football.

Rest in Peace, Mr. Pavarotti.

The Hills: Rolling With The Enemy

If you missed last night's episode, you can watch it here. If you caught it -- let's discuss:

Why is Heidi's boss so interested in the affairs of Heidi's former friends? Unless my boss was a 14-year-old girl, I'd be really weirded out by that.

Speaking of Bolthouse, I cannot believe that Heidi got a chance to meet Chelsea! How is that her job?! I'd cleats-up tackle someone for the opportunity to meet Joe Cole or John Terry and I'm willing to bet good money that David Beckham is the only footballer that Miss Montag could identify in a line-up. This fact had me suffused with verdant jealousy...until I realized that Heidi goes home to Spencer every night and then, I just felt kinda bad for her.

Speaking of Pratt-Daddy, it's time for another edition of You Look Like A Pratt. This week, he unveiled the Pouting Ferret Face:

It looks like there's a tiny, very blonde ferret nesting underneath his lip. There are certain men who can pull off facial hair. Mr. Pratt is not one of them. He looks like someone ran amok on a Ken Doll using a yellow Magic Marker. Thank God he shaved by the end of the episode. It was so distracting.

Unlike the follicular follies of Spencer, Lauren's friend Ryan had the most glorious white-boy 'fro I've ever seen. It emanated from his head like rays of blonde sunshine. I wonder if that's difficult to maintain....

More Lo! The more I see this girl, the more I realize that every girl needs a friend like her -- someone who's brutally honest and will tell you, "Honey, your ass does look fat in those pants." Or in Audrina's case, if it's been four months, Justin-Bobby should probably be your boyfriend.

Speaking of Mr. Bobby, we had a thumbs up/thumbs down situation with him this week. Thumbs Up: He drives a bitchin' Camaro.
Thumbs Down: "Rebelling" against society by dodging commitment is piss-weak. In addition to this, his comment about how he got the 'gist' of Audrina was incredibly condescending. It's like saying, " You have so little substance and are so far beneath me that I don't have to attempt to fully understand you. I understand the superficial sheen of who you are and that's all the effort I have to put in." Lauren said it best -- "You weren't being oversensitive. He was being over-asshole."

Which leads us right into the quote of the episode. While Lauren's little nugget of wisdom was good, this week's distinction goes to Brody Jenner who eloquently huffed, "What a bitch," after hanging up with Spencer. Breaking up is hard to do, Brody but I'm sure you'll bounce back. It's always tragic when hetero lifemates split. I mean, this is exactly what the conservatives are on about when they talk about the dissolution of moral values in this country. We need to get back to a time when 'bros before hos' actually meant something.

And I never thought I'd ever associate Republican politics with The Hills, but I'll be damned if Pratt didn't have a little Bush moment this week. Apparently, rolling around with Spence's enemies makes you an enemy. Doesn't that sound an awful lot like either you're with us or you're against us? Spencer, I realize that you've probably only stumbled across MSNBC or CNN while channel-surfing, so let me put this in terms you'll hopefully understand -- only a Sith Lord deals in absolutes. So, let's back it up with the power-tripping, alright Anakin?

Jen Bunney has ugly shoes. I'm sorry, but those wedges were just hideous.

And here are some snaps of Miss Bunney accompanying Heidi for a spot of wedding-dress shopping. As someone who's experienced an influx of bridal paraphernalia in her life lately, I'm gonna go on the record and state that Montag's dress might just be the most generic looking gown ever.

Next Week: Jason! Heidi and Spencer's Machiavellian Scheming! More Urban Aphorisms Courtesy of Rich White Dudes!

Oh and just for a hot second, can we talk about Justin Timberlake's FutureSex/LoveShow on HBO last night?



Dear God, what I would have given to have been in that audience. You can survive with one kidney, right?

Despite The Fiance's insistence that Timberlake resembles a giant Gerber Baby (In his defense, these comments were probably spurred by my frequent verbal ejaculations of, "Oh Mr. Timberlake. Womb for rent" and "Dude, I would ride that donkey to sleep!"), the show was incredible. Tight instrumentation, sparse yet effective visuals and the vibe was much more like an intimate club show than a mythological Madison Square Garden appearance. Every song was great, but what sold it for me was What Goes Around...Comes Around. Phenomenal. Just phenomenal.

If you have mp3s of the show, please send 'em my way. Thanks guys!