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.

Oh Whitney

I <3 Magneta Lane

In 1982 I was six years old and a FOB. I had been in Canada about two years. My family was broke at the time, but we had enough money for a television and basic cable. It was then that I got my first taste of girl rock.

I Love Rock ‘n’ Roll was released in 1982 and spent seven weeks at the top of the pop charts. The first time I saw Joan Jett rock out in the video, I felt an amazing surge of electricity coarse through my veins. Something about her looking like a badass and murdering the crowd with her guitar riff made me want to be just like her.

Years later, the only musical instrument I had mastered was the very un-rock ‘n’ roll flute and the only real song I had performed live was an Italian art song. Nevertheless my love of the lady rockers did not die.

The past few years have been filled with disappointment for me as girl rock was replaced with vapid chick pop. The Christinas and Jessicas of the world stripped their way into the general consciousness and girl rock had to get in the backseat. This is not to say that girl rock didn’t have representation over the past few years (I had Le Tigre among others), it just wasn’t as prominent nor as plentiful.

Then Sleater-Kinney knocked it out of the park last year with The Woods. Girl rock was beginning to awake from her slumber.

This year Magneta Lane released Dancing with Daggers and girl rock officially fluttered her lashes again.

Magneta Lane is like a better, female version of The Strokes. I am obsessed. Listen to it when you get a chance.

Viva les girl rockers.

(Notable mention to Tokyo Police Club who are not girl rockers per se, but are still fun and opening up for Magneta Lane for their April 6 show at the Horseshoe.)

Ouch!

Man Hurls Knives, Severed Penis In Rampage

Police Respond To Calls Of Man Smashing Car Windows

CHICAGO -- The Chicago Sun-Times reported Friday that a Chicago man resisted arrest in a most unusual way Wednesday morning.

Jakub Fik, 33, went on a rampage, smashing car windows on the city's Northwest Side. When police approached him, Fik hurled several knives and his severed penis at the officers.

Police subdued Fik with a Taser gun and took him into custody.

"We took him out without any serious injury, with the exception of his own," said Chicago police Sgt. Edward Dolan of the 16th District.

According to the published report, doctors at Northwestern Memorial Hospital reattached Fik's penis Wednesday. A hospital spokesman said he was listed in good condition Thursday.

The paper said that Fik lives in the 5400 block of W. Berenice Street. He is charged with two counts of aggravated assault and one count of criminal damage to property, said Officer Laura Kubiak.

Fik told paramedics he was distraught over problems with his girlfriend in Poland, Dolan said.

The suspect was bleeding when officers arrived and may have already cut off his organ, Dolan told The Sun-Times.

"At that point, this guy came running out, naked, with a handful of knives . . . and started throwing knives at the police officers that were 10, 20, 30 feet away," Dolan said. Included in the hurled items was the man's penis.

He then went back into the house and re-emerged with "another handful of knives," Dolan said.

The officer said he sneaked to the side of the house and stunned Fik with the Taser gun. The suspect continued to struggle with officers near the front steps of the home.

"About 10 feet from the front porch, right on the sidewalk, was his penis," Dolan said.

The published report included a statement from a University of Chicago urologist who said that the reattachment of a penis, while unusual, can be a highly successful operation.

Guess who I get to interview?

I am SOOOOO EXCITED!

MSN Conversation between Lulu & Scott

My friend Scott has broken some new social barriers with his notorious poker night by inviting his first gay participant. Since its inception, Scott's poker night has been a point of contention.

However, with the addition of Attit and Chris, the game broke its first social barrier, that of race and now with the addition of Chris #2, the game has moved with the times and embraced differences within sexual orientation.

The only social barrier left to overcome has to do with the issue of gender. On this issue, Scott will not budge. His argument? Sometimes a man needs a little cock.

Here is our conversation from today.

scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
he may be coming to the poker game now
Lulu says:
hot
Lulu says:
finally
Lulu says:
your game has broken barriers
Lulu says:
not only for race
Lulu says:
but for sexual orientation
Lulu says:
only thing left
Lulu says:
is the gender barrier
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
nope
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
no woman allowed
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
dan is taliban
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
i need a guys night now
Lulu says:
HAHAHA
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
before i could've gone either way
Lulu says:
the old lady riding you
Lulu says:
?
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
this is sausage
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
nope
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
but a guy needs his time
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
i work with women
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
live with women
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
i need to cock rock it sometimes ya know
Lulu says:
oh yah
Lulu says:
you definitely need some cock
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
gth
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
you deserve to be sick
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
hahahaha
Lulu says:
and you deserve some cock
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
you are tooooo much
Lulu says:
you love it
Lulu says:
you did it to yourself
scottstwocents.blogspot.com: howland says:
true

The Da Vinci Code

I soooooo did not want to read this book, let alone like it.

A few years ago my friend Hilda bought me a copy of the Da Vinci Code at a book sale. I am not at all a big fan of fiction and rarely read it. Also, I had heard a lot of hype surrounding this book and like the cultural snob that I am, immediately just put it in my “read it if I am trapped in my house and all other books, magazines or anything else with writing on it has been destroyed” pile.

Meanwhile, everyone else I knew could not stop asking me to borrow the damn thing. I think I leant it out to about three people. Each of them had the same reaction. No one could put this book down once they got their hands on it. This went on for about a year after I received the book.

Still. I didn’t want to buy into the hype. So each time I got the book back, I just left it on my bookshelf unread for another year.

Then the film talk began. Again, people were abuzz. Great debates began springing up arguing whether or not Tom Hanks was the right person for the lead role of Robert Langdon. Everyone seemed to agree on the casting of Audrey Tatou for the role of Sophie Neveu.

Still. I held out and the book remained unread by me for a few more months.

Until this weekend. My good friend Erica came for a visit this weekend and at about midnight on Friday, she demanded that I read the first five pages of the book.

As it turns out, I couldn’t put this book down and ended up reading it until 5:00AM and basically finished the book in roughly six hours.

The Da Vinci Code is just a good old fashioned thriller with some of the most intricate, yet uncontrived plot twists I’ve ever encountered in a book.

I cannot wait until the movie comes out!

South Dakota makes me sad

So it’s finally official. If you’re a woman in South Dakota and you want to have an abortion, you better be dying.

This is a sad, sad development.

Read more about the law on CBC.ca

How cute is Jake Gyllenhaal?

Now I know this is not new, but it's new to me. Although I think Jakeypoo is adorable, I wasn't so convinced that he should be on my "bangable" list. However, I've just seen some pictures that have moved Jakeypoo into bangable territory.

Here is Jake having dinner with Ang Lee:



So it seems that Jakeypoo had a bit too much to drink at said dinner.



And my favourite. Here he is looking like a jackass as he crashes a photo of Ang and Uma.


I am a sucker for drunken jackass antics. Well done Jakeypoo, well done.

I like my bangs extra crispy

Today I saw a woman with crispy bangs and it brought back some memories. For those of you who don’t know what that is, refer to the above photograph.

Now I am not above the crispy bang as during the mid-80’s I did my best to achieve the perfect crispy bang, to no avail. I never had the right cut, nor the right weight to my hair for it.

Here is how one achieves the crispy bang:

1. You start with a haircut that is not unlike a mullet. The only real difference is that the business starts further up, so that your bangs feather around your face like a sweet sweet baby chick (with a mullet).
2. Spray the bejeezus out of said feathered bangs. Aqua Net was a late 80s favourite.
3. Using a curling iron you curl your front bangs under, so that they are nice and rounded and the tips of the bangs curl to touch your forehead.
4. You fluff the surrounding area around the curled bangs.

Like I said earlier, my attempts at this look were never successful. None less successful then the time I did my hair just before my friend Paula’s 11th birthday.

I had gotten myself all dolled up and really gave’r with the Acqua Net for Paula’s party. Sadly, while I was a fan of the crispy bang, I was also a fan of playing with open flames.

This particular day, just before leaving for Paula’s party, I was seeing how long I could hang on to a lit toothpick before it burned my fingertips. While I was focusing on not burning my finger with a burning toothpick, my pathetic crispy bangs went up in flames like Scarlett’s plantation in Gone with the Wind.

Le sigh.

Leave it to the hicks to make me feel all nostalgic.

All for the hand of Flava Flav

I can't imagine putting all this effort in for Flava Flav.

Hermione is all growed up

FYI she is 15. I am sooo not going to judge, because I was doing such things at 14.


What next? Liquid ecstasy?