YES WE CAN.

This was our neighborhood last night at 1am. White people. Black people. Old people. Young people. All of them erupting onto the streets in celebration of the choice we had made. The choice our country made. 

 I am so very proud. 

photo credit: www.eyemaze.net

Put on a Happy Face!

(insert excuse here for why no one has blogged)

Hiya.

Two things.

1- Last night I had grilled pizza and French 75s in Morningside Heights with my beloved Crussell. Before we had dinner, I was waiting for her outside of the restaurant on 112th st. All of the sudden all of these people start taking pictures. No celebrities were in sight. I was confused. I thought perhaps they were photographing St. John the Divine (which is lovely and also allows elephants inside) but they weren't.

They were taking pictures of a diner. Why? Because it was the exterior of the place they used to eat at in Seinfeld. It took me like 5 minutes to figure it out. Hello people, it's been a decade!!!!

2- It's raining and gross and generally rather Eeyore-like today.

Don't worry! Clicking this will make you feel 100% better.

-L

Second verse, same as the first!

Kate and I spent our Sunday at Stink Fest 'o8, a street fair which culminates in a cheese eating contest. It was the same as last year, but everything managed to improve. Last year's cheese eating champ packed away a mere 80z; whereas this year the guy ate nearly a pound. Last year we watched our beloved Marty Markowitz preside over the festivities from a far. This year we chatted with him about the Brooklyn Bridge's birthday, he gave us Brooklyn pins and even posed for a photo with Kate! (If you know Kate you understand that a dream has now been realized) Somehow, the roasted corn even tasted better.  It turns out we even took an eerily similar picture to commerate the day. mmm. Corn. I love traditions. 

it's officially summer- and I'm officially blogging.

Hey there Kids.

Today was the longest day of the year and it was a lovely one.

The Gayrab and I spent the solstice having one of those urban vacation days. We went to Pastis for our beloved French '75 (I know. Pastis. You're rolling your eyes. But I swear we starting going there well before Carrie Bradshaw & co. made it a thing.) I don't know how it's possible, but when one mixes champagne and gin, they become almost refreshing.

Then we took a trip... to Water Taxi Beach. 

First of all, it requires a 

Water Taxi. How novel. After what seemed like a brisk four hours of sunning ourselves on the Hudson, we arrived. There was sand. There was a bar. There were... some interesting people.

After an extended interlude on the dock (and

 legitimate fears that were about to be stranded in Long Island City) we boarded our second water taxi of the day and watched the sunset before dining at South Street Seaport. (Just when you were done judging us on Pastis!) It was sunny and perfect and I never see New York from the water, it looks all shiny and happy. I wanted to cue the theme from Working Girl...

Hello? Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me...

This was a terrifyingly long hiatus.  Is anyone even reading this? Unclear. I'm not waiting any longer. It's time for this blog to rear it's ugly head again! I'm sure tens of people are excited! I had thoughts of giving up- but one can't just abandon projects that are nearly four years in the making. Not under my watch. 

I'm not sure why Kevin and I fell off the wagon this time. I think it was a lethal combination. of papers to grade and limited internet access at work. No matter. We're over that.

There are a million things to talk about, and all in good time. I just wanted to write a quick note. I'll leave you with two things:

THIS should make you sit up and worry.  (John McCain is older than chocolate chip cookies! and the polio vaccine! and area codes!) 

For balance, here's a really happy, three year-old picture of Kevin & I in Paris.

I feel better, how about you?

SEE YOU SOON!!!

-Leigh (and Kevin)

I truly, truly think this is one of the funniest things I've ever seen.

XOXO,
Kevin.

Leapin' Leprechauns!

Ooops. I can not fathom that there was no post on this blog for St. Paddys. Granted, this years festivities were a little subdued...but still. Kevin and I are so very proud of our Irishness. We're just slackers...
Today is a bit of a sad day for me. I finally got around to inspecting and registering my car here in the fine state of New York. I've had a NY license for awhile now; but I still had my DC tags on the car. I always liked them. They're special. For those of you who are unaware of the plight of DC, the city has a congresswoman. Who is not allowed to vote. Which means that even though they live at the epicenter of American government, DC residents effectively have no say in it's actions. It's akin to living in say, American Samoa. Or Guam.
The people of the District of Columbia are collectively so fed up with this obvious error that in 2000 they voted to put their anger on their license plates. (It should be noted that the Clinton administration supported this measure; whereas when a certain imbecile was elected, he made them take those plates off his limos.)
Anyway, it always struck me as a cool move. Which is why my plate now hangs in my office as a gesture of solidarity:

Anthropology: Brooklyn Style.

I've been suspicious ever since I moved to Brooklyn. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Something was off about this place. I couldn't decide what it was until a few weeks ago when I was having dinner with friends in Cobble Hill. Cobble hill is not my neck of the Brooklyn Woods. I have lived (albeit briefly) In Fort Greene, and now Clinton Hill and as I was strolling down Court St the other night, it was eerily similar to the summer when I'd poked around in Brooklyn Heights, or hung out at bars on 5th ave or Smith St. But what was it about this borough that was irking me?
Then yesterday as I took a Sunday stroll for coffee and a muffin it hit me. I knew what was wrong.
Every girl in Brooklyn has a hipster boyfriend. Every last one!
Now, I'm not even sure if I'm in the market for a hipster boyfriend- but, boy, if I wanted one this would be the place. Yesterday my ipod-induced solace was constantly interrupted by the plethora of hipster boys on the go. You know them. You've seen them. They have a uniform after all: Skinny jeans, (usually skinner than those on their female counterparts) ratty old converse (or vans.) Sweaters with thumb holes like they are all Kurt-Cobain-playing-MTV-unplugged. (Can be substituted by old- worn in leather jackets [of the motorcycle variety] or of course; the ever popular hoodie/band shirt combo) Aside from their swooning girlfriends; they have standard accessories: ipod, tattered looking book, eco-friendly shopping bag filled organic this-and-that. Perhaps a Baby Bjorn carrier and kid in an American Apparel onesie to boot.
And of course the one accessory that always gets me: The dog. (Usually of the big, friendly mutt variety)
Yesterday these endless, happy twosomes seemed to have taken over. I mean, I know I asked for it. It is Brooklyn afterall. I thought perhaps my mind was exagerating; playing tricks on me.
No Leigh, every girl in Brooklyn doesn't have a hipster boyfriend.
And then I turned the corner, on to my own street and I was behind them:
The adorable couple; walking the French Bulldog while discussing Howard Zinn.
I mean really; how much can one person take?

"What is more Fantasy than peacock?"

Oh, Roberto Cavalli; I couldn't have said it better myself.
It's that bittersweet time of the year again kids. Another season of our beloved Project Runway is about to come to a close. While I'm sure Christian is counting down the moments to his coronation ceremony- I would just like to say that I am rooting for Jillian. I have consistently liked her stuff and she's from Strong Island to boot. (I think Kevin may still be mourning the loss of Chris- whom we all loved- but I'm sorry: you lost me at human hair.
Please chime in the comments section and cast your vote.
In other news- can anyone believe that is March already? Maybe it's just me, but I feel like '08 is whipping on by. Kevin and I will be sunning ourselves in Montauk before we know it. (At least that's how I hope it plays out- I need some warmth) March is good though. I mean, it contains the most important holiday of the year, so how bad could it be?
To end this post of rambling I'd like to add a warm welcome to The Gayrab who has returned to New York and today spends his very first night a matchbox of his own. (Well, more of a gilded cage than a matchbox;I don't think there are too many Matchboxes on the Upper West Side...)

"I think I may be beginning to disappear..."

What? Julie, no. You will never disappear. You are a goddess, an icon, an Oscar winner (unless they find a way to go back and retroactively give your Oscar to an inconsequential pretty young thing slathering on fifteen pounds of latex to vaguely resemble a celebrity), and you are the eptiome of class and craft.

I really do think I'm too depressed and enraged by Marion Cotillard's Best Actress win to do an Academy Awards fashion recap. Truly- Worst. Oscar. Ever. I've been accused of hyperbole for saying this, so I'd love to explain why...

(ahem)

I'm not a performer, but if I were, I would find it wildly insulting that Hollywood seems to have such a poverty of imagination as to think that mimicking an existing person is the height of creativity. It's paint-by-numbers frivolity, whether it's Marion Cotillard doing it or Philip Seymour Hoffman or Reese Witherspoon or Cate Blanchett. Did she sound like Edith Piaf? Sure. Did she look like Edith Piaf. Sure, thanks to pounds of paint and tape. (And I WILL debate whether turning someone into Edith Piaf is more artistically significant or nuanced than turning Eddie Murphy into an obese lady.) But does screaming and fainting and lip-synching really represent the height of screen acting? FUCK no. And it certainly doesn't deserve the first Oscar ever awarded to a French language performance. I'm confident, in fact, that somewhere Catherine Deneuve is rolling over in the grave of good taste.

In ten years, at the 90th Academy Awards, there going to be doing one of those montages they're so fond of, reflecting on Best Actresses past, and Marion Cotillard will flash up there, and everyone will look at each other and say, "What? We have her one for that? Oooff. My B."

There. Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I might as well say that Leigh and I endorse Amy Adams and Helen Mirren for best dressed. (Sorry, I can't help myself!! I'm a slave to gowns!!)

Check it:



I mean, can we just agree that what we see here is existing and soon-to-be Hollywood royalty? I look at Helen Mirren, and I hear "Nobody Does It Better." I look at Amy Adams, and... Well, I just generally go a little ga-ga. I must have a think for redheads in green.

Also, Kristin Chenoweth is disgusting. Sorry, had to throw that in there.

OK. Time to go buy Dolly's new album on iTunes!

XOXO, Kevin!

PS- Now, I wish her nothing but the worst in life, but I will say this for Marion Cotillard's dress: I hated it. Now, there's a compliment in here somewhere, so bear with me. I thought her dress was ugly and ill-considered, but in a year with some of the boring-est red carpet fashions I've ever seen (even Tilda wore black!!), at least she stood out. It wasn't black or red, so bully for her. And her hair looked nice... Bitch.

See how I do...

BEST PICTURE- "No Country for Old Men"
BEST DIRECTOR(s)- Joel & Ethan Coen, "No Country for Old Men"
BEST ACTOR- Daniel Day-Lewis, "There Will Be Blood"
BEST ACTRESS- Julie Christie, "Away From Her" (Note: She'd fucking better...)
BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR- Javier Bardem, "No Country for Old Men"
BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS- Ruby Dee, "American Gangster"
BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY- Diablo Cody, "Juno"
BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY- Joel & Ethan Coen, "No Country for Old Men"
BEST ANIMATED FILM- "Ratatouille"
BEST DOCUMENTARY FILM- "No End In Sight"

OK, I'm dropping the "best"...
CINEMATOGRAPHY- "No Country for Old Men"
EDITING- "The Bourne Ultimatum"
COSTUME DESIGN- "Atonement"
ART DIRECTION- "There Will Be Blood"
SCORE- "Atonement"
SONG- "Falling Slowly" from "Once"
SOUND MIXING- "The Bourne Ultimatum"
SOUND EDITING- "The Bourne Ultimatum"
VISUAL EFFECTS- "Transformers"
MAKE-UP- "La Vie en Rose"

LIVE-ACTION SHORT- "Mozart of the Pickpockets"
ANIMATED SHORT- "Peter and the Wolf"
DOCUMENTARY SHORT- "Freeheld"

Whew.

Scattered thoughts...

Hey, all! So yeah. Leigh has it right. This is a busy, harrowing time of year, and our blog responsibilities got away from us. (I just sat here trying to think of a word mash-up for "blog" and "responsibility"... "responsiblogity" is just too affected...) Apologies all around.

As Leigh also noted, the Oscars are this Sunday, and I'm really wicked-super-killer excited. It's my favorite day of the year, after all. (Sidebar: We think Julie Christie's gonna win, right? That Edith Piaf cooze is making me nervous.) I'll be saluting the neo-Western in some sweet Brad Pitt garb. Fun times!

This is awesome:


Ugh. It's 10:19pm right now, which means I'm tired, and my brain is muddy with random thoughts. I should probably be, you know, cleaning my room, or donating money or time to a worthy cause, but all I want to do is focus on the new "Dancing with the Stars" contestants, if I'm being honest. One presumes you've all seen them by now, but if you haven't...

Adam CAROLLA- Former "Man Show" co-host and total douche.

Christian DE LA FUENTE- Random handsome Hispanic man, and likely good dancer.

Shannon ELIZABETH- That old lady from "American Pie." No, not Jennifer Coolidge. The ugly one.

Steve GUTTENBERG- God among men!!!

MARIO- I have no fucking clue. Some R&B guy, I guess? Whatever.

Marlee MATLIN- Deaf Oscar winner!

Penn JILLETTE- Father of Moxie Crimefighter Jillette.

Priscilla PRESLEY- Scary old icon.

Monica SELES- I had to look her up, but she's this famous tennis player, and there are two amazing facts about her: (1) She was once stabbed on the court by a crazed fan (!!), and (2) She had to battle the tennis powers that be to earn the right to grunt during a match. I mean... Wow.

Jason TAYLOR- I think he plays football. I know he's handsome.

Marissa Jaret WINOKUR- Fat lady. ("Why are you being so mean to Marissa Jaret Winokur?! She was so good in 'Fever Pitch!'- Roommate)

Kristi YAMAGUCHI- Skater, best known to me as having once been Mulan for a Disney on Ice special.

So yeah. That's that. One would presume that Kristi Yamaguchi has the advantage, right? I bet she can dance. I mean, she was a truly awesome Mulan. But I bet this heretofore-unknown Monica Seles character could do-it-to-it, right? I mean, if she had to battle to win the right to grunt on the tennis court, I bet she'll be viiiiiiiicious on the dancefloor. And this bitch got STABBED! That's nuts! She's a fucking pirate!

If I can be totally offensive for a moment (Uh oh...), are they shitting me with Marlee Matlin? I mean, Heather Mills was one thing, but MARLEE MATLIN CAN'T HEAR THE MUSIC. That just seems... Mean, I guess? And yes, I know "She's built her career on defying expectations," but so has Stephen Hawking, but that doesn't mean that I want to see his paso doble.

That's all for now.

Team Guttenberg,
KEVIN.

Oopsidaisies

I'd say about twice a year; this blog falls horribly to the wayside. It appears the first slip-up of '08 has commenced. J'apologize. But you know they'll be more on the way...because the most important night of the year in this blogosphere is just around the riverbend! That's right- Sunday is Oscar night, which means I have a costume title to defend and Kevin and I have some serious fashion blogging material again. Finally! Between that and the Project Runway Finale, I'd expect to hearing a lot from us in the near future. (Unless Rami wins, and then we'll be too angry to blog. Stop draping already you beast!)
Patience, dear hearts.
This blog will be fierce again in no time.

Civic Duty.

GET UP
AND
VOTE.

I'm not telling anyone who to vote for. (Not that I wouldn't I mean- hello- a blog is a soapbox if ever there was one.) While the management here at Kevin & Leigh's Sexy-Ass Blog may disagree on which candidate to support; we do agree that you should all be at the polls. Besides, there might not be a blog to read if we have to stomach another four years of a republican-controlled White House. Kevin and I will be too heavily medicated to type.
Let's get the ball rolling people.

The 2008 Screen Actors Guild Awards Fashion Recap

OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS!! Did you watch the SAG Awards last night? No? You didn't? Oh. Well, that's OK. You can just watch the Oscars, when they're on-...

Oh, fuck!! There aren't going to be any Oscars this year! And there weren't any Golden Globes! There's been only one televised awards show recently, and you missed it. Oh, EFF. It sucks to be you!

Wait... Are you crying? Oh, honey. Please don't cry. It's OK. Seriously. No. C'mon. I promise. Oh, Jesus. If you can't stop crying, at least wipe your nose. Here, wait. I know what'll make you feel better. What if I give you a fashion recap of selected gowns, and we make fun of famous people? Doesn't that sound like fun? I mean, it's not going to be everybody. Let's not get carried away. But it'll be everyone that I (a) give a shit about, and (b) can steal free photos of from various websites. Sound cool?

See, you're feeling better already! SO LET'S GET STARTED!


Let's start off on a positive note- Christina Applegate, the first lady of American television comedy. She is gorgeous. She always looks gorgeous. She is remarkable, lovely, and talented. I adore everything about her, as well as this look. Fuck, this one was really boring.

And now on to some more interesting ones...


Jane Krakowski's totally making a play to be the new Morgan Fairchild! I don't really get that as a life goal, but whatever floats your boat. The top of this dress looks like it was made out of these little bedazzled fruits that my mother likes to buy at Treasure Island. A most unusual store? A most repulsive dress.


Viggo Mortensen is a Romanian count? What?? Who knew. Oh, well. I'd still battle him in the steamroom anyway, if you know what I mean. (I mean buttsex.)


Oh, now HERE we go. (Cracking my knuckles.) Debra Messing's all dolled up for 70's Vegas lounge act! Well, let me clue you in, sweetheart. The Stardust got torn down, and it's a crying shame your shiteous dress wasn't in it at the time. Go away. You're depressing.


Sandra Oh's dress makes it look like her boobs are partially wearing a tie. Sandra Oh's boobs are partially a gentleman.


I don't know what to say about the Jolie-Pitts these days. (Except that AJ was robbed of an Oscar nod!! Laura Linney? Pho. Ning. It. In.) Her dress- which I guess kind of looks like tie-dyed diarrhea, I suppose- does nothing to dispel the pregnancy rumors, but nor does it do anything to dispel the fact that they're the most generous, philanthropic, and inspiring couple in the entertainment industry, so... There. Suck it, haters!!


Can every couple (including Brangelina) age into people so awesome as Hal Holbrook and Dixie Carter? They're my TomKat. My Benniffer. My Diggs-Menzels. (Note to self: Wear more white scarves with eveningwear.)


OH, MICHELLE. You're too perfect for words, photographs, or my eyes!! I can't even comment on you, you're so flawless. It's like how really religious Jews write God "G-D," because they're not even good enough to say the name. From now on, I'm calling you "Mi--he-le Pf--ffe-."


I know that Tilda Swinton is supposed to be some kind of a high-concept art project that I'm too dumb to get, but sometimes it makes me so happy, and sometimes it's an uninspired, sloppy metallic lounge suit. (Didn't Nick Verreos get kicked off Project Runway for making a suit that looked like this?) Go back to making real movies, you once-respectable semi-insane sometimes-genius!


Relatively speaking, he's new to the red carpet scene, so let's all cut Zac Efron some slack. You're a pretty, pretty doll princess, Zac. We promise. Keep up the good work.


Maybe all of her fashion sense has gone to her gestating Oscar- WHOOPS! I mean Fetus!- but Cate Blanchett looks like a Laura Ashley paintball target. Unacceptable. "I too can command busy patterns, sir! I shall steal all your gown's bric-a-brack if you dare to try me!"


Oh, Jenna Fisher. Oh no. Oh merciful Jesus. Oh... CHRIST. I mean, I'm in different to boobs, generally speaking, but this bitch must hate hers. Is that armor? Was she in 300?


Leave it to Platinum Fox Julie Christie to show up Tilda in the "Lady In Pants" contest. Yes, JC is gorgeous. Yes, JC won a well-deserved trophy, and is on her way to an equally well-deserved Oscar. Yes, she is hot as the flaming surface of the sun at age 67. (Is G.I.L.F. a working acronym?) But what really drives me mad with desire is how much I want my hair to look exactly like hers. I'm buying an at-home perm kit right now! I'm gettin' me a Marcel Wave, and it's all thanks to you, Julie!!


Here we have current Oscar nominee (and apparently-famous-in-France person) Marion Cotillard. She played Edith Piaf moderately well in some fucking lame movie, but she's actually really pretty in real life, so I'm apparently supposed to give a shit about her. Whatever. This dress is nice. And what you can't see is that her hair was full of glitter. So mad respect for that.


And finally, and with all due exaltation and worship, for the second time at a major awards show, Leigh and I crown Ugly Betty's America Ferrera as Best Dressed of the night. Yay!! This lace-y one-shouldered number was pure understated Hollywood glamour, and it brought out the natural glow of primetime TV's hottest ingenue. Well done, America!! (Oh my god, when was the last time you heard us say that?!)

OK. This has been an insane amount of fun, and while we hope we get to do it again soon... We're not holding our breath. And so we say to you, until we get to harshly judge women's personal fashion choices again... Godspeed and good luck.

In the Holy Name of Ruby Dee,
KEVIN (and, by proxy, Leigh)

How can a commercial make me so sad?

Maybe it's the fact that I want a dog so badly.
Maybe it's the soothing sound of David Duchovny's voice.
Who knows. But every time this Pedigree ad comes on, I have to fight tears.
I would totally adopt Echo. Wouldn't you?

p.s.-In happier news, tonight is the LAST TIME Dubya gets to address the State of our Union. Gas prices spiraling out of control. Economy on the brink of recession. Should be a good one.
p.p.s- Don't worry- Kevin's on SAG awards duty.
Mickey Rooney,
L

And You Thought Hannah Montana was a Hot Ticket

Ladies and germs- the zeitgeist of Joe Iconis has reached a fever pitch. After selling out a four-show run, he had to add a midnight show on Sat, to meet fan demand. Like he is Miley Cyrus.It appears there are two Joes. First, there is the Joe Iconis with whom I share the more-than-occasional drink. The Joe Iconis who loves my parents' dog.The Joe Iconis who communicates almost exclusively via text message. Our friend Joe. And then there is JOE ICONIS-winner of awards, singer of songs, pied-piper of musical theatre- leading a band of teenage white girls 'round the interwebs. I mean, we have always loved Joe. Now we have to share him. With five sold out shows worth of people. It's fantastic! I mean, the breadth of his wikipedia article alone is rather impressive. But then you add in the reviews. And the Youtube videos. And the girl who almost pushed me down the stairs of the theatre last night screaming "I WAS IN LINE TO SEE JOE BEFORE YOU!!!" It's crazy like a fox. I said to Kevin that I think we are fast becoming"The Liv Tyler to his Christina Applegate's ex-husband". It's not that we haven't seen this coming since, oh 1989. Maybe it's because I was out of town for years, who knows. It's just that last night, it was right in front of me. And it's a delight.

Better Get to Birthdayin'!

As I've done for the past two years, I want to take a brief pause on January 19th to salute the birthday of America's greatest musical treasure, Dolly Rebecca Parton. She's 62 years old today, and she's soon to be back on top of the pop culture universe in a big way- February sees the release of her new album, Backwoods Barbie (though I'm sure everyone is already familiar with the brilliant single "Better Get to Livin'" and the ensuing music video, which is one of Dolly's best ever). Later on this year, she's taking the stage version of 9 to 5, for which she's written a new songs, to the Ahmanson Theatre in LA (Note to Leah: When this happens, I'll be sleeping on your couch), before bringing said show to New York next spring.

So 2008 is going to be very Partoncentric. And I couldn't be happier. I already have my seats to see The Lady at her March 7th Radio City show, and I'm fully counting the seconds til then.

In honor of this earthly goddess, and in celebration of how America seems to be remembering just how indispensable an icon she is, please enjoy the below YouTubes. This is a small collection of some of my favorite Dolly duets. Note how she makes artists look more relevant and attractive just by being near them.









Yours in Parton,
KEVIN xoxo

Hostess with the Mostest.

Last night McGrath and I trekked to the Upper East Side to have ladies night at Che' Hansson. Let me tell you, it was a classy affair. If I have people over to my apartment, it almost always ends in dialing for dinner. Not at Marissa's. There was homemade hummus. There was homemade sauce. I mean, observe the presentation. Note the perfectly placed basil leaf atop the ricotta:Now that's just plain classy. And now I will follow this lovely evening of wine and gossip by accompanying Kevin & company to see a movie about a girl with a man-eating vagina. (No really, it was at Sundance.) It's a strange life I lead.

The Billy Bush Awards.

Man was that awful.
Well...let me clarify. I feel that the WGA is fully justified in asking to be compensated when people view and buy their work. So cancelling the globes had to be I guess.
But for the love of god, did we have to watch Billy Bush?
Was NO ONE ELSE available from the entire NBC news roster? Why the hell should we care what Tiki Barber & company have to say about anything?
(For the record, I am no fan of Nancy O'Dell either, since she is pretty much singularly responsible for Wendy Pepper making it to Olympus Fashion Week..but I digress...)
It was just so...joyless.
In an attempt to remind us what award season is truly all about I offer you the following:
Here is this blog's '07 Globes Fashion Review. Joan Rivers has nothing on Kevin.
and here is Nikki Blonsky finding out she was nominated. [it's long. Skip to 4:19 and be rewarded.]

Here's hoping for an Oscar ceremony?
-L

"What do they got? A lot of crap!"

In 1989 I fell in love. (with a movie) I saw the Little Mermaid four times in the theatre. I watched it on vhs until the tape literally died. I sang "Part of Your World" so often I'm sure my parents wanted to invest in ear plugs. No one was happier than I when Disney announced it was mounting a Broadway production- and no one more disappointed in the giant pile of crap that is currently playing at The Lunt- Fontanne Theatre. It was so bad it was comical. Kevin and I were openly laughing through the majority of the show. I didn't have the proper words to explain it. The lucite set, the horrible dancing, the fact that they moved on HEELYS - I didn't have the words- but one man does. Now that it has opened PLEASE see what Ben Brantley has to say because his prose is genius. "But Leigh- I don't read theatre reviews" Oh contrare. Just look at what he said about the set:
"a distracting set (by George Tsypin) awash in pastels gone sour and unidentifiable giant tchotchkes that suggest a Luau Lounge whipped up by an acid-head heiress in the 1960s. The whole enterprise is soaked in that sparkly garishness that only a very young child — or possibly a tackiness-worshiping drag queen — might find pretty."
C'mon, read it!

Random Thoughts: 1/9/07

Hiya Kids.
Sorry I've been absent from the blogosphere as of late; I was busying ringing in the 2008 in the district. It was a lovely time filled with friends, pocket-door dance parties, arthritis inducing Nintendo battles, and me spending a lot of quality time at the Dupont Manor.
1. Regardless of your views on who won the New Hampshire and Iowa primaries, more people turned out to vote in them than in the last 3 election cycles. Good News.
2. Have you seen the preview for that Jessica Alba movie The Eye ? Aside from looking heinous, it's totally a rip-off of what I'm sure is the far superior Blink featuring a blind Madeline Stowe receiving an eye transplant. Does anyone else remember that movie?
3. Coke Zero was named one of the "Hottest Products of 2007" I couldn't agree more. I loves me some coke zero. I understand some of you don't get it- in the words of the Gayrab " I want my diet soda to taste metallic, that's how i know it's diet!" but I still think there is one Coke product the world could do without.
4. This season of Project Runway truly had not captured my affection as much as its predecessors- until last week. Hershey's Challenge? Excellent! I'd like to say, for the record, I think Jillian was robbed. EDIBLE CORSET made of Twizzlers people! hello!:

Alright, that's enough. I have to take advil before my novocaine wears off. A word of advice from your friend Leigh: Floss your teeth like 20 times a day. OR ELSE.

IOWA HEARTS HUCKBEES...

....so start getting scared.



by guest blogger Popzilla

Well the Iowa Caucus was last night, and forecasts for November are already being made. Sure, it's months away, and this caucus is about as telling as winning an award from the Hollywood Foreign press, but some things are certainly becoming clear.
Oprah is truly the kingpin we have all known her to be. She has already ruined the beef industry, a non-fiction writer's career, and Broadway, so why not Hillary Clinton's campaign? Check! But what Oprah needs to realize is that if Obama gets the nomination (shudder!), she is going to have to face a competitor who has never been beaten. I am referring, of course, to none other than Chuck Norris.
The kick-fighting, action jean wearing former "Texas Ranger" has been hard campaigning for Republican candidate Mike Huckabee. And no one has ever seen Chuck Norris lose. He was seen last night during Huckabee's speech (after a nine-point victory over Mitt Romney) with his wife Gina ( a dead ringer for Candice Cayne, btw) and it looks like Chuck is in it to win it.
Now in a perfect world, he would reek havok on the Obama campaign, kicking Oprah and Barack down (and Jay Leno while he's at it, please?), jeopardizing Huckabee's own campaign, whilst Hillary ascends to her rightful place in the White House.
But kick-fighting or not, I think we need to all start being very scared of Mike Huckabee. Not just because of his Republican politics (hating gays, liking bibles, being obese at least once). Here's why:

- He started his career as a Southern Baptist minister.....he believes in creationism....and Biblical inerrancy. In other words, he's ready to inherit the wind. In the classroom. Hide your children.

- In 1992, he wanted to put a quarantine on AIDS patients, adding, "homosexuality is an aberrant, unnatural, and sinful lifestyle, and we now know it can pose a dangerous public health risk."

- When he was governor of Arkansas, he pardoned a convicted rapist who later raped and murdered another woman. Seriously!

- He is a bass player in the political band, Capitol Offense. And as we all know, chicks dig bass players.

Scared enough yet? This man could be president. Or Vice President under Mitt Romney, who ain't much better.
Time to take back the country kids.
Or threaten to move to Canada, again.

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES