Monday, January 11, 2016

Fool’s-Gold(en) Globes


All told, I think I watched about five minutes of the Golden Globes last night. I really just can’t handle the narcissism, self-congratulating and back-patting. Not to mention that, as the Saints learned the hard way, it’s hard to get behind any contest where victory is bought and not earned. I mean, do we really think Jennifer Lawrence gave the best female comedic performance of the year?  Uh, no. Melissa McCarthy runs comedic circles around “Joy’s” prepubescent self.

Anyway, as expected, there were plenty of cringe-worthy moments. Some were so bad they were good; most were just really, really bad.

One in the latter category occurred when Matt Damon “won” a best actor trophy for The Martian. Although he had to walk past his wife to get to the stage, push past her even, he failed to acknowledge her in any way. Apparently he forgot that his beard wife plays a huge part in perpetuating the narrative that he’s a regular guy, married to a regular lady, who’s just a down-to-earth family man. Sure, he thanked her in his acceptance speech, but what’s that saying about actions vs. words? In his defense, perhaps he was afraid that if he didn’t rush the stage and get his award quickly, Amy Adams might have a Steve Harvey moment and realize that she’d read the card wrong, ultimately giving the trophy to Steve Carrell instead. Given Damon’s comedic ability, or lack thereof (Stuck On You, anyone?), this was probably a legitimate concern. (Now, had he received the award for the bumbling performance he gave as he floundered his way through a defense of Sean Penn’s controversial interview with El Chapo, I would have totally supported the decision; that was one of the best comedic performances I’ve seen all year.) 

Then there was everyone’s best friend, Amy Schumer, with her actual best friend, Jennifer Lawrence, presenting their respective films as Best Picture nominees (neither won, by the way). Seriously, what happened to these two? They used to be so likeable. Now, not so much (and it’s not even entirely because of Amy’s completely unlikeable persona, i.e. her true self, in Trainwreck). Why do celebrities feel the need to pontificate ad nauseam on things they know nothing about? Newsflash, celebrities: I don’t want to know your personal thoughts/beliefs on, well, anything. Just entertain me like the dancing monkeys you are. 

Dance, monkeys. Dance.
 
Jennifer Lawrence took it to another groan-inducing level in her post-win press conference when she told a member of the foreign press, with a mom-level finger wag, to stop looking at his phone and to “live in the now.” This wouldn’t necessarily be the stupidest thing ever except for the fact that, based on the reporter’s very thick accent, it was fairly obvious that English wasn’t his first language. What everyone else in the world room seemed to understand, therefore, was that given the high-pressure situation and the fact that he was attempting to speak a language other than his own, this reporter had chosen to read his question off his phone in an effort to not eff it up. Nice job, Jen. You probably made him feel like a total idiot for trying not to look like a total idiot. In the end, though, it really wasn’t he who looked the fool, was it?

And speaking of how people looked, I sure hope someone called the police on behalf of Brie Larson because, based on what I saw last night, half of her body has been stolen. I didn’t even recognize the 21 Jump Street actress as she accepted her best actress award for Room. Someone better give Girlfriend a sandwich real quick.

Last night at the Golden Globes (L) and in 2012 (R). Seriously, where's the rest of her?

Then there was Lady Gaga, who rarely disappoints. As an aside, apparently faux British accents and lots of nudity are the only requirements to win a Globe; I can’t really identify anything else the Gags could have done to win for American Horror Story. I am grateful for her win, however, for one very specific reason – and it involves Leonardo DiCaprio. As she clomped her way up to the stage – probably, like Matt Damon, fearing that the Hollywood Foreign Press would change its mind if she didn’t get to the stage fast enough – she knocked Leo’s elbow. His reaction alone was worth the eight hours of torture required to endure the entire broadcast.

  Perhaps she misjudged her new width, provided by those bat wings she has glued to her hips. They're like a cat's whiskers, except in reverse.  

And in case you missed it because (unlike me), you don't feel like watching the above GIF 8,000 times, here's the money shot:


Not much of a poker face there, Leo.

Let this be a lesson to us all: Nothing stands between the Gags and her Globe. Nothing at all. I must say, for a man who has experienced all the dangers of a new frontier, including an enraged grizzly bear, he seems fairly fearful of this lady's touch. This could be for two reasons: 1) he's a fan of American Horror Story and has seen how terrifying her acting character's behavior is, or 2) he happened to notice the ferocious talons she's currently sporting on those hands of hers.

Either way, Mama Grizzly's got nothing on Gaga.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

Not-So-Pure Michigan

Love. It’s a many-splendored thing. And what better way to show one’s love than by going to extraordinary lengths to propose? After all, as Gammy says in The Proposal (which, ironically, is on as I write this post), “How a man proposes says a lot about his character.” I mean, if reality TV has taught us anything isn't it that huge, over-the-top gestures are the secret to a long and successful marriage? I wonder then what Gammy would have to say about Michigander William Cornelius Jr.’s New Year's Eve proposal to his girlfriend Sheri Moore.

It was original, I’ll give him that. Any uninspired schmuck can hide a ring in a champagne glass or utilize the “kiss cam” at a hockey game; how much thought does that take? But what about a proposal at a regular old retail store? That takes some real innovation. Surely it doesn’t get much more splendored than a marriage proposal through the loudspeaker at Walmart.

Right?

And after overtaking (with permission, of course) the store’s PA system to offer his proposal, Cornelius presented his lady with an engagement ring that he had procured from the same retailer - valued, I might add, at a whopping $29.62. Talk about one-stop shopping. It’s actually surprising that more people don’t make similar proposal choices. Perhaps Mr. Cornelius will start a revolution.

What I hope will not become a revolution, however, is how the diabolical duo chose to celebrate their engagement. You might think that after plunking down less than $30 on an engagement ring, there would perhaps be a dollar or two left over to splurge on some wedding night favors. But no. Instead of choosing to do things the old-fashioned (read: legal) way, and placing the desired items on, say, a grownup wedding registry, Michigan’s own Bonnie and Clydenelius chose instead to lift $80 worth of sex toys from a nearby mall. Stolen items included a “Bride-to-Be” thong, as well as an edible one, sex candy and a vibrator.

You know, just the essentials. 

A match made in heaven? Or perhaps a little further south?

But fear not, my friends. As the above photos indicate, the devious duo was eventually apprehended. In case you’re wondering, the bride was caught outside of a Taco Bell – another cost-effective choice, I’ll admit – where she immediately blamed the entire thing on her fiancĂ©, despite the fact that there was actual videographic evidence of her sticky fingers. (Sure didn’t take long for her to flip on her man. This marriage isn’t doomed at all.) As for the groom, well, he was found at a table in the mall’s food court. Asleep.

You really just can’t make this stuff up.       

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Cheeseburgers in Paradise

Folks, I have big news. Like, really big. Earth-shattering even. Finally, after an excruciatingly long wait and many, many sleepless nights (just me?), the secret to Tom Brady and his lovely wife Gisele Bundchen’s supermodel bodies has been revealed.

And today, my friends, I’m going to share that very secret with you. It’s really going to change your life. Ready? The secret is…

Money.

Yes, the beauty and his wife have loads of those gorgeous greenbacks. And they spend at least some of them on a private chef who makes them delicious meals full of veggies, grass-fed steak, chicken and salmon. All organic of course. According to their chef, “If it’s not organic, I don’t use it.” The Brundchens also ingest no coffee - or caffeine of any kind - no dairy, and no tomatoes because, allegedly, they cause inflammation. Who knew? Apparently I’ve been eating crates of tomatoes in my sleep.

Other helpful hints? No sugar, white flour or MSG. What?! I think my brain might explode. When did sugar and flour become bad for you? Oh right, 1994.

The organically inclined Brundchens

So, if you win tonight’s Powerball, or for some other reason have the million dollars necessary to buy only organic foodstuffs, and, oh yeah, HIRE A PRIVATE CHEF TO COOK THEM FOR YOU, then you too could look like a supermodel. Or his wife. Obviously money doesn’t automatically give you a Sports Illustrated body (see: Oprah), but it certainly helps. And anyone who denies this fact has obviously forgotten what it’s like to be poor (see: Oprah).

Personally, I think this is a genius move on Gisele’s part. If you require your football-playing husband to subsist on a diet of quinoa and seaweed, then when he finally gets a little freedom – say, at an away game – he probably won’t be interested in cheating on you with a woman; he’ll be much more likely to cheat on you with a cheeseburger. Well played, Gisele. Well played.  

And speaking of lifelong marriages (or not), congratulations to former president George H.W. Bush and his lovely wife Barbara who are celebrating their 71st wedding anniversary today. Those 71 years have surely been fruitful, producing six children (one of whom died of leukemia at age 3), eight years at Number One Observatory Circle, four years at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., and eight years (which I’m fairly certain will be the only years; sorry, Jeb) as the parents of the occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.  

January 6, 1945

Congratulations again to Mr. and Mrs. Bush! May we all be so lucky as to find someone who loves us through 71 years of ups and downs – and who lets us eat the occasional taco. Or tomato.