Return of the keytar

Suddenly the keytar is everywhere!

They're on t-shirts:


They're in Eastern European music videos:



What next? Bollywood?

A Day in the GTA

I moved to Toronto six years ago and have lived downtown the entire time. Excursions north of Eglinton are far and few between for me, so when I get the opportunity to explore the GTA, I go all out. Chris had his parents’ shaggin’ wagon for the weekend, so we met up at Downsview station and decided to make a day of it.

The first thing I always do when I’m in the ‘burbs is get my eyebrows and upper lip threaded. I used to get it done all the time downtown, but when I first got both done for five dollars in Mississauga, I just couldn’t bring myself to pay $18 to get my brows alone threaded. For a fiver and a loonie tip, my eyebrows are shaped up and I no longer have peach fuzz on my upper lip.

Next, we headed down to Pacific Mall, where I finally bought a pair of glasses! I shopped downtown for months and because I wanted titanium and pretty frames, I couldn’t get a quote for under $1100. The ones I got are green and $600 tax in. They are pretty fancy.


Chris and I also had lunch at the Pacific Mall food court, which was extremely tasty. For $18, we got a whackload of shrimp fried rice, curry beef brisket and some deep fried soya chicken. It was better than King Noodle (sorry Scott).

Now that we were stuffed and my wallet was a little lighter. We hauled ass to Yorkdale, which is like a nightclub on Saturdays. Chris picked up two pairs of jeans at Club Monaco for $112. This completes his little denim renovation project. No more carpenter jeans from the Gap! My baby is super fan-cay.

The only iffy part of the day was our meal at Vinnie Zucchini's Italian Eatery, an all you can eat Italian resto. I’m pretty sure the salad bar was a food poisoning incident waiting to happen. Nevertheless, the poached salmon and eggplant parmesan were sublime. The risotto and polenta were pretty tasty. I won’t mention the other bits as I think I’m still expelling some of it today.

Overall it was a very successful day. We were so exhausted by the end of it that we just couldn’t drag our asses over to Neutral for a friend’s birthday.

Although I'm not quite sold on the 'burbs just yet, it was a lovely little day.

Yay Blue Jays!

Chris and I got some free tickets to the Blue Jays’ Twonie Tuesday night last night. They were playing the hated New York Yankees, so of course the place was packed.

I’ve watched a few Blue Jays games already and have had some good seats in the past. The past two times I’ve been, however, I’ve done the nosebleeds and I must say — once you go nosebleeds, it’s hard to go back.

Blue Jays games are waaaaaay better with the rowdy drunks in the nosebleeds. Twonie Tuesday in particular brings out a fantastic crowd.

Highlights from last night include:

• The most obnoxious dude in the world calling after the poor beer seller by yelling out “Hey Beer Guy” in a pseudo-Boston accent. Repeatedly.
• People just sitting wherever they wanted to. Ticketmaster be damned.
• These two New York Yankees fans trying to start a fight with about six big Blue Jays fans. The Yankees were losing already and made a huge error that led to a run for the Blue Jays. Those guys shut their mouths real fast, only to be kicked out be security anyway.
• Barely legal hoochies, dressed in full Yankee regalia from their local Big It Up store. They started flirting with some loud drunk frat boys who yelled out, “Show Us Your Tits!” Instead of flipping them the bird and throwing their drinks at the guys, they giggled flirtatiously. Nice. Feminists everywhere should be proud.

I loved loved loved it. I encourage you all to get some nosebleed seats to a Blue Jays game before the summer is out.

It's in Canada!

Watching it right now. Flava Flav is way grody. New York is a crazy bitch. I LOVE IT!

It's gotta be Nicole Richie

From The Awful Truth by Ted Casablancas...

One Horsing Around Blind Vice

Pixie Mixie, your life is becoming more and more like a serialized British comedy that would be far too raunchy and ribald for American audiences. We here in the land of the fruity and the free don't tend to condone racial slurs and messy heroin stains. Try Great Brit, Pix--that's where they use nefarious humor and the C-word like I do overdone adjectives!

Alas, Pixie is certainly very American. So, she should know better. Or maybe she does, and she just doesn't care; who the eff knows with this broad.

'Kay. Let's get ugly, shall we?

It was at a glitzy party in an even glitzier city that Pixie Mixie was relaxing at a table with some of her snootiest, closest friends. Thrilled to see the famous mini-goddess in person, a humble young man approached. He smiled broadly, in a winky way. "I am a star-fucker, and you are a star," he bravely--and totally cojones-equipped--blurted. "See where this is going?"

But Pixie wasn't in the mood to joke around. "Ewww!" she railed, loud enuff for everyone within several feet to hear. "Get this [racial epithet] away from me!"

So racist! So bossy! Her tablemates looked around, all horrified.

Naturally, the fawning fellow fled across the room. Feeling guilty, he sent over an olive branch (the kind Matt Lauer might send to Tom Cruise, say): a plate of French fries and a gravy boat. But Pixie didn't so much as touch the damn food. Instead, she bolted.

Later in the evening, Pix was back on the scene at a party nearby. Important denizens noticed that something was different about her. A sudden haircut? A new shade of rouge?

Nope. It was the mustache she had suddenly grown. Not the kind that can be staved off with a little electrolysis at Elizabeth Arden. Nope. Pixie's stache was made of powder. No, not Kate Moss white; this stache was yellow and brown. Yep, heroin lip.

Oh, Pixie, really? Well, there is something redeeming in all this. Maybe glamour girlfriend only gets racist when she's all smacked out.

See, I knew we'd end on a positive note!

According to Ted, it's not Brittany Murphy, Lindsay Lohan or Whitney Houston.

My Super Sweet Sixteen

I have got to stop watching MTV Canada. There is absolutely nothing that is going to make me a better person on that channel.

Nevertheless, I love love love, My Super Sweet Sixteen.

I cannot believe half the shit that goes on amongst the rich in America.

Some highlights:

• Aaron (son of LA Reid & Pebbles) had his invitations recorded on MP3 players. At best those MP3 players are about 100 bucks a pop and he invited enough people to fill the 40/40 club (a nightclub owned by Jay Z). Also Kanye West performed at his party.
• Marissa didn’t just get one car (a black SUV); her dad got her a “weekend car” as well (a red sports car, the only one of its kind in the US). She also died her poodles pink to match the pink theme of her party.
• Natalie, who got her step-mom to take her to Las Vegas to shop for her dress. It cost $900. She also goes to pick up her out of town friends in her dad’s Rolls Royce.

The absolute topper however is Sophie. She is a bonafide BEOTCH. This girl:

• Yells at and berates her mom throughout the show.
• Bitches out a former friend in front of all her classmates.
• Loses it when her grandmother threatens to get her a used Audi.
• Says stuff like “What Sophie wants, Sophie gets” and “If I don’t get what I want, bad things will happen.”

She stills gets a party that costs almost $200,000 and a brand-spanking new Audi.

I am going to go gouge my eyes out now.

8th & Ocean

So MTV Canada finally launched, so Canadians can finally watch My Sweet Sixteen. As I was perusing the brand-spanking new channel on a Saturday afternoon, I came across a little show called 8th and Ocean.

I am hooked.

Basically the show is about a bunch of models, both male and female, who live in Miami’s South Beach and work as new models for the Irene Marie agency.

Let’s start off with Irene Marie. Homegirl is hilarious. She is the momma bear of the group and has had so much plastic surgery that she is officially non-biodegradable. Parts of her face will be around long after the world has ended.

Then of course we have the twins. Kelly and Sabrina. Sabrina unfortunately was dealing with some skin issues and had a huge acne breakout in one of the shows. She was told to stay home until her skin cleared up, which totally made her cry. You’re a fucking model. You’re judged on your looks all the time. Get a grip.

The romance on the show is provided by Teddy (a budding lothario torn between love and lust) and Britt (a devout Christian with a bod for sin). These two are playing a cat and mouse game filled with sidelong glances and inane banter.

My favourite people on the show are the bookers, especially Suzy. She is fucking fierce. She is plain-looking but knows that she’s far smarter than these girls. She also knows that their looks will fade, but her hardass attitude will be paying her for the rest of her life. She doesn’t coddle the little darlings and often tells them bitches where to go.

Check out the trailer:

I'ma Bitch Slap You!

As you will recall, on the show Flavour of Love, Pumkin spit on New York.

New York never forgot it and she is one crazy beotch.

This little clip is from the re-union show.

Poor Kimora

After months of rumours, it's finally happened. Kimora Lee Simmons is now a single lady.

From PEOPLE magazine:

Rap mogul Russell Simmons and his wife Kimora Lee Simmons are splitting, a rep for Kimora confirms to PEOPLE.

Russell issued his own statement Friday afternoon, saying: "Kimora and I will remain committed parents and caring friends with great love and admiration for each other. We will also continue to work side by side on a daily basis as partners in all of our businesses."

The statement also says the couple have been separated "for some time," but have continued living under the same roof.

Russell, 48, and Kimora, 30, married in 1998 and have two daughters: Ming Lee Simmons, 6, and Aoki Lee Simmons, 3. Both girls model for Baby Phat Clothing, Kimora's offshoot of her husband's Phat Farm clothing line.

The former Kimora Lee, whose father is African-American and mother is Japanese-American, was a model, for Chanel and others, when she began dating Simmons, a cofounder of Def Jam Records.

The pair met in November 1992 during New York City's Fashion Week. She was 17 and about to finish high school; he was 35 and a self-admitted ladies man. "I was skeptical," model Tyra Banks told PEOPLE in 2002 of her initial reaction to the relationship. But, she said: "She turned the man about town into a loving husband and papa."

The couple were married by Simmons's brother, Pentecostal minister and rapper Joey "Reverend Run" Simmons of Run DMC, on the Caribbean island of St. Bart's on Dec. 20, 1998.

As most people know, I love love love me some Kimora.

Rumour has it Russell's been "doing yoga" with a younger model named Denise Vasi. He sooooo traded last year's Bentley for this year's suped up version.

I hope Kimora goes on Tyra's show and gives us a version of the spurrned wife that puts Jennifer Aniston to shame.