A Little Hump Day Happiness

An ATG friend and supporter was kind enough to send us this picture of the Sweet Ginger Prince, knowing how we love him and how we never hesitate to post his pictures. Today’s pic is particularly adorable. But don’t be fooled; although it looks like he’s smiling at his queenly grandmother, I have it from a reliable source that he’s actually thinking about ATG’s most recent post, which just goes to show how refined and intelligent his humor is.

A handsome prince with a great sense of humor? Someone catch me as I swoon.

Pigskin-Playing Doppelgängers

Well, folks, ‘tis the season for giving thanks. And, although the last crumb of pumpkin pie has long-since been eaten and the hand-traced, construction-paper turkeys put away, it still seems an appropriate time to give thanks for all that we have. This was especially true on Thanksgiving Day when, as I found myself surrounded by delicious food and a loving family, I realized what I’m truly thankful for: football.

Yes, friends, Thanksgiving offers some fantastic football-watching opportunities, especially this year, as we were fortunate enough to see my Champion Cheeseheads go 11-0 on the season. But, in between cheering for touchdowns and screaming at the refs’ bad calls, it struck me how familiar some of the players looked - and not just because I’m an obsessed fan who Googles said players at all hours of the day and night, but because their manly mugs were reminiscent of other famous faces.

Admittedly, this blog post probably won’t appeal to all of ATG’s million(ish) fans, but to those of you who love the pigskin like I do, you’re welcome. And for those of you who don’t, with the playoffs fast approaching, this may be a good opportunity to brush up on enough football trivia to do a little name-dropping here and there. However, football fan or not, prepare yourself for the visual feast you’re about to encounter.

(But, please remember, like all feasts, some items won’t be quite as tasty as others.)

So put on your stretchy pants and get ready to chow down. Hope you’re hungry…

Ryan Gosling vs. Alex Smith

Gosling (L) and Smith (R)

We might as well start our feast with a dish guaranteed to please just about everyone’s palate. If Ryan Gosling ever decided to quit his acting and saving-the-world jobs, and try his hand at American football, he’d be Alex Smith. Smith spends his days quarterbacking the San Francisco 49ers and, until this season, was embarrassingly bad at it. But they must’ve added some Ovaltine to the San Francisco Bay in the offseason, because suddenly he seems quite capable of playing football and has led his team to a 9-2 season so far. Not too bad for a pretty boy.

Tracy Morgan vs. Marshall Faulk

Morgan (L) and Faulk (R)

Viewers of the NFL Network know that former St. Louis Rams running back Marshall Faulk, a commentator for the network, isn’t funny. At all. And fans of comedian Tracy Morgan, star of 30 Rock and SNL, know that the only running he appears to do is to the fridge at halftime. However, despite these notable differences, these two share an undeniable resemblance. I’m just waiting for Marshall to end one of his NFL segments with these five immortal words: “I’m gonna get you pregnant.” 

Faizon Love vs. Warren Sapp

Love (L) and Sapp (R)

If you’ve ever seen Couples Retreat, the Christmas classic, Elf, or, ironically, the football flick, The Replacements, you’re probably familiar with actor Faizon Love. He’s racked up quite an impressive resume on-screen, while his brother from another mother, former Tampa Bay Buccaneer Warren Sapp, has racked up an equally impressive resume on the field (including a reputation for being a dirty player). Unfortunately, Sapp and the ironically named Love also appear to share the same anger issues, as they both have rap sheets containing domestic abuse charges. Must run in the family.

Jordy Nelson vs. Deion Sanders

Nelson (L) and Sanders (R)

Stick with me on this one. Despite their slight difference in skin pigmentation, these two actually look fairly similar. They have the same-shaped head -- covered in little to no hair -- and similar, prominently displayed ears. And, although Sanders -- a former Dallas Cowboy -- was a defensive player and Nelson -- a current Green Bay Packer -- is an offensive player, they’ll both go down in football history as being fierce on the field, which just goes to show that Michael Jackson was right; it don’t matter if you’re black or white.

Beast Doll vs. Clay Matthews

The Beast (L) and Matthews (R)

If you’ve ever watched Green Bay Packer linebacker Clay Matthews play football you know that he can be a little beastly. So it stands to reason that his look-alike would be the Beast doll from Beauty and the Beast. They’re both large and intimidating; they both have the same chiseled jaw; and they both have long, flowing locks. But we Packer fans are hopeful that the similarities won’t stop there; for, you see, at the end of the movie, the Beast got the girl and, with any luck, at the end of the season, Clay will get his second Super Bowl ring. Go, Pack! Go!

So there you have it: a feast full of football doppelgängers. Now, who's ready for dessert?

You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby

Today marks the birth of ATG’s most fantastic, most beautiful, most creative, most witty, and without a doubt, most shoe-fabulous contributor. And, although the spectacular FP puts all of her fellow birth celebrators to shame with her magnificence, it’s become a tradition here at ATG (and by tradition, I mean this is the second time we’ve done it) to highlight some other, albeit slightly less fabulous, birthday-sharing folks. So, without further ado, I give you noteworthy November 6 births:

Emma Stone

Born 11/6/88 in Scottsdale, Arizona

Endearing Emma

Remember Emma Stone when she was that adorably awkward girl in House Bunny? She was sweet and funny and the kind of girl you wanted to be friends with. Unfortunately she recently pulled a Lindsay Lohan; meaning, she went from a normal-sized redhead to a Hollywood-sized (i.e. borderline eating-disorder skinny) blonde. (She’s allegedly a blonde in real life, but, really, aren’t there enough of those in Hollywood already?) She did manage, however, to snag a plumb role in The Help and the eye of Jim Carrey and, really, at the end of the day, what else can a girl ask for?

Ethan Hawke

Born 11/6/70 in Austin, Texas

Edgy Ethan

Remember Ethan Hawke in Reality Bites when he looked like he needed a good cleaning? Unlike Emma, Ethan hasn’t actually changed much. He still looks dirty and smelly – and apparently like Sugar Ray’s Mark McGrath. Along with looking unclean, he also oftentimes looks irritated, which after further consideration, makes a lot of sense. I mean, who wouldn’t hate the world when stuck in Uma Thurman’s Amazonian shadow? He remedied this situation, however, by cheating on Thurman with their kids’ nanny (original and classy, I know), who he now finds himself married to. Not-so-surprisingly, though, he still looks royally pissed off most of the time. Maybe he’d have a more positive outlook on life if he’d just take a damn shower.

Maria Shriver

Born 11/6/55 in Chicago, Illinois

Memorable Maria

She’s a Kennedy. She was married to the Governator (until she found out that he was really the Cheaternator and FatherIllegitimateChildrenernator). And she has a jawline that could cut glass. ‘Nuff said.

Sally Field

Born 11/6/46 in Pasadena, California

Successful Sally

Unarguably the most decorated performer on our list (at least until the fabulous FP gets her accolades on), Ms. Fields has made a career as the adorable girl-next-door. She was a contestant on The Dating Game twice; she survived a plane crash, when her private plane lost power on take-off (which, sidebar, is why I keep a pack of AA batteries on my private plane); and she’s never lost an Oscar she’s been nominated for, which just goes to prove that the Academy likes her. They really, really like her. (Someone had to say it.)

And today we celebrate the best November 6er of all, FP. She’s got the talent of Sally, the likeability of Emma, the business sense of Maria, and, seeing as how she’s well-groomed and nice-smelling, very little of Ethan.

Here’s to you, FP!

And next year, we celebrate in a British castle. Or palace. Maybe this one?

ATG's future home, Buckingham Palace

Who's Your Daddy?

Remember 2007? It was a great year. Britney entered her drug-induced normalcy; Juno and Enchanted were killing it at the box office; and, most importantly, we had yet to be subjected to the auditory and visual terrorism that is Justin Bieber. It’s hard to imagine a time when Bieber Fever wasn’t infiltrating every media outlet, and causing girls to wet their Disney Princess Pull-Ups, but it’s true.  

The Bieb

And now, the androgynous youth, who barely looks old enough to have had his own graduation to the big-boy potty, has fathered a child. Allegedly.

In the Bieb’s defense, apparently (at least according to TMZ) the baby’s mama originally accused her ex-boyfriend of fathering the same child, but then conveniently remembered that it was probably Justin Bieber. I’m just spit-balling here, but doesn’t it make sense that – if this was a legitimate accusation – Bieber would’ve gotten the first “Guess who’s having a baby!” phone call and not the second?

Does this look like the face of a criminal mastermind?

Of course, this accusation has been vehemently denied by the little guy and his people, but, in all honesty, I don’t even really care. I don’t really care if this girl agrees to the paternity test that JB’s camp is loudly requesting. I don’t really care if she broke any of California’s statutory-rape laws. I don’t even really care if he ends up being the dad (although I feel terrible for the poor baby who’s the innocent victim in this mess). I just want to know how one goes about concocting a credible “He’s my baby daddy” story.  

Who do you call? How do you ensure that word spreads so far and wide that you make national news? I assume it’s like starting any rumor or fad or use of a slang word, but how in the heck do you get the publicity to take a rumor like this to the ultimate level?

I’d like to know. Seriously. I mean, I’ve been saying that Prince Harry is my baby daddy for years (and, really, can’t we all agree that if anyone was going to father loads of illegitimate children, it would be him?), but no one believes me. Not one person. There’s been no call from Ryan Seacrest’s radio show. No Dateline interview. No TMZ photographer following me around.

Of course, perhaps no one believes me because there’s never been an actual baby.

So, although I still have no idea how to make myself a trending topic on Yahoo!, I do think we’ve learned at least one important lesson today: Next time you accuse someone of fathering your child – celebrity or otherwise – make sure the child in question actually exists.

And they said ATG wasn’t an educational tool.

A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes

While we here at ATG do subscribe to the theory that it’s best not to discuss politics or religion with your friends – at least friends you intend on keeping – and that an entertainment blog is the last place to bring up either, there’s been some late-breaking, life-altering news that must be shared! Although this news could be filed under “religiousy” (if that was a real word), it is actually much more about the British royal family, the Sweet Ginger Prince, and, most specifically, one girl’s dream to conquer both.

Who's excited about a new royal addition?! No, not a baby. An American princess!

Sounds like changes may be afoot for the world’s most overpublicized royals. The World Wide Web is abuzz with the news that British Prime Minister David Cameron has proposed a few legal reforms; reforms that would essentially abolish several antiquated laws dating back to the 17^th century. What does this mean for us? A couple things, actually.

First, it means that, should Waity double up on her helpings of kidney pie and black pudding and actually gain a pound – or twenty – and, should said weight-gain result in a long-anticipated pregnancy for the Duke and Duchess, and, should said baby be a girl, the little queen could very possibly rule over all the lands (eventually). As it stands now, it’s the first son who gets that honor and not the first born. Of course, unless you’re planning to be reincarnated as Waity’s progeny, this first change won’t affect your life much.

 

What could have an impact, however, is my second piece of good news. Up until now, the heir to the British throne could marry a Buddhist. He could marry a Muslim. He could even marry an atheist. He could not, however, marry a Catholic—one more thing we can blame on Henry VIII. It perhaps had something to do with the bad blood and mass murdering that has taken place between Protestants and Catholics throughout the years. But, under Prime Minister Cameron’s proposal, this too would be thrown out; which means, ladies, that our St. Jude novenas are on their way to being answered!

Not only would Prince Harry be able to marry a nice, Catholic girl, but he wouldn’t even have to abdicate; meaning, that a nice, Catholic girl could someday be a nice, Catholic princess. (Of course, whether Prince Harry is interested in nice girls of any denomination is another topic entirely.)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some glass slippers to go Windex.  

SWM with ginger hair seeks S(?)F of princess quality. Grace Kelly types encouraged to apply.

And the Truth Shall Set You Free

I’m sorry to tell you this, my friends, but you’ve been lied to; and it’s a lie that I can no longer perpetuate. I sincerely apologize if this news shatters your world, like finding out the true identity of Santa Claus or Charlie Sheen, but the truth is the truth. And the truth must be told.

What is that truth, you ask. Well, mis amigos, the truth I refer to is this: the real, super-secret identity of one of the world’s most celebrated superheroes, Superman. I may be arrested for revealing his name – after all, many people have spent many dollars perpetuating the lie of Clark Kent – but the truth is, Superman is really…

Wait for it…

RYAN GOSLING!



Here he comes to save the day! SuperHunk is on his way!

Surprised? It’s true. And here’s the proof. (Notice how he puts his own life in jeopardy, and risks revealing his true identity, to save these poor, helpless, angry, thieving New Yorkers.)

Admittedly, it’s an old-ish video, one that got its fair share of publicity. What didn’t get publicity, however, is who Ryan’s alter ego is (that privileged information is available solely to you faithful ATG readers). Sure, he looks unassuming enough in his convict-inspired tank top and capri sweatpants, but underneath it all is a man of steel. If you think about it, it makes a lot of sense – especially if you’ve seen Crazy, Stupid, Love. This man clearly needs no factory-produced, muscle-sculpted breast plate. No faux pectorals need apply on this body, if you know what I mean.

So, next time you’re in trouble, don’t bother with your pepper spray or cell phone. There’s no need to call 911, your mom, or even Ghostbusters. Nope, just send up a little shout-out to SuperHunk Ryan Gosling and wait for the saving to commence.

And, remember folks, you heard it here first.

A Judgment-Scented Potpourri

Ashton and Demi in happier times

In case you haven’t heard, Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore have separated. That’s right; it seems that Ashton has moved out of their love nest amid rumors of infidelity.  Now, I don’t doubt for a second that cheating took place—probably on both sides, although whether it ever involved two girls in a hot tub, I couldn’t say—but the skeptic in me wonders if this is, in large part, a publicity stunt. 

It’s a poorly held secret in Hollywood that celebrity publicists will plant stories in the media, specifically when their clients have work to promote. The clients can then passionately deny said stories, thereby giving them even more media attention. It’s the gift that keeps on giving. (Rumor has it that Jennifer Aniston’s “people” are especially good at this, which I happen to believe, considering she hasn’t had a hit in years and yet still manages to land herself on the cover of innumerable magazines amid wedding and pregnancy rumors.) 

I’m not saying that this is what’s going on with Demi and Ashton, but it is peculiar timing, what with Ashton recently stepping into Charlie Sheen’s easily filled shoes on Two and a Half Men; and let’s face it, Demi has to be itching for some attention considering she hasn’t really been relevant since, well, since she married Ashton and became the world’s most famous cougar. Seems like now would be a good time for both of them to hurl themselves into the spotlight -- and guarantee they’ll stay there a while -- by announcing a marital separation.  

Regis and Kelly in happier times

In case you haven’t heard, Regis Philbin is leaving Live with Regis and Kelly sometime this year, after nearly 28 years with the show. And to that I say, thank goodness. Listen, I understand that he’s 80, that he’s been a television fixture since the 1960s, and that he is quite possibly “the hardest working man in show business,” but despite all this, or perhaps because of it, it’s time to hang up his mic. 

The reality is, he’s 80; and, although he’s a pretty impressive 80-year-old, he’s no longer an impressive talk-show host. He calls people by the wrong name or forgets their names altogether, he stumbles for titles of projects his guests are promoting, he rarely seems to know anything about the person he’s interviewing, and he gets generally confused by, well, just about everything. 

Please don’t get me wrong, he’s had an amazing run and will go down in history as one of the greats. However, even the greats need to retire. Is Bob Barker still hosting Showcase Showdowns? Nope. Is Dick van Dyke still tripping over couches and running into doors? Not that I know of. Is Joe Montana still throwing the old pigskin? I don’t think so. It’s high time we add Regis to that list. After all, mock yelling at the camera can only hide for so long the fact that you have no idea who you are or what you’re talking about. 

The Most Beautiful Woman in the World and Kieran Culkin

In case you haven’t heard, Scarlet Johansson is tied, along with Kate Middleton, for the title of Most Beautiful Woman in the World. After seeing this picture, I finally understand why, and have no doubt that you will also. Wow. Forgive me. I’ve been rendered speechless by her…beauty, so I’ll just leave you to marinate on the magnificence that is Scarlet Johansson. Consider it my parting gift to you.

You’re welcome.

Attention: Robert Stack

Well, folks, you can add it to the lengthy list of things we’ll most likely never know the answers to – an unsolved mystery, if you will – not unlike: are aliens for real and what did Mickey Rourke do to his face? I’m talking, not about how Kate Middleton somehow captured, not only a prince, but also the world’s unconditional love and adoration (although that, too, is something I’d like the answer to) but, instead, about why she always carries a clutch/purse. What could she possibly need it for? Doesn’t she have “people” to do that for her?

Seriously, I’d really like to know what’s in there. Is it:

Money? Nope. Rumor has it that the royals don’t carry money -- and, despite my greatest efforts, Kate is now a royal -- so, obviously, she does have people to at least take care of that for her.

I.D.? Considering she’s one of the most famous women in the world, not to mention the fact that she’s always accompanied by a prince, I’d say doubtful.

Lady supplies? Again, highly doubtful, as every article has her either pregnant or so skinny that she can’t conceive; either way, it’s unlikely that she’d need any kind of feminine product.

Makeup? Gee, I hope not. If she puts on anymore black eyeliner, she’ll start to look like a cornerback for the 49ers.  

So, if it’s not to carry any of the aforementioned items, then why does she need a purse? Is it to show that she’s just one of us? Just a normal girl who fell (or schemed, depending on who you ask) into this royal life? She is a “commoner,” after all. (I mean, don’t we all come from common, millionaire families?)

If her goal is to appeal to the masses, she needs to try a little harder – at least to appeal to this mass. I personally think she carries a purse so as to better display her ring – a ring that is absolutely proof positive that bigger isn’t always better and that money can’t buy good taste – without looking too obvious. 

 

What ring?

I must say, though, considering she’s right-handed, Waity’s getting quite good at using her left hand for just about everything – waving, gesturing, messing with her hair – so as to best display her ostentatious jewel. Just a friendly reminder, in case we happen to forget, of who she married and the ring he gave her.  

It’s her way of saying, “Hey, I’m just like you…only so much better.”

A smile that says, “You, too, can have it all if you’re willing to waste your ridiculously expensive degree waiting around for a decade for your boyfriend to decide if he wants to marry you.”

Boyfriend of the Week

Anyone who knows me, knows that there are three things I love unconditionally: the Green Bay Packers, Diet Coke, and Johnny Depp. It is my love for #3 that inspires this week's(ish) "Boyfriend" (don't worry, I'll get to the other two at a later date), because, obviously, no Boyfriend list is complete without the unparalleled beauty and talent of Mr. Johnny Depp.

Ironically, it was one of the worst actors in history who was responsible for bringing us one of the best. That’s right, it was Nicolas Cage who encouraged Johnny to try acting, even going so far as to introduce him to his agent. This fateful introduction ultimately led to Johnny’s oft-forgotten film debut in A Nightmare on Elm Street, which was obviously just a springboard for what has become a long and illustrious career.  

This Kentucky-born babe has had much critical and box-office success, despite apparently hating everything Hollywood represents – which is perhaps why he chooses to spend his off-time in France. (Not to mention the fact that his baby mama is French.) Sure, the proud papa of two is an exceptionally odd human being who smokes like a chimney and appears to have an antagonistic relationship with soap – which, in all fairness, seemed to be an issue even before he moved to France – but as long as we can love him from afar and never have to actually smell him, this Boyfriend will remain the star of, not only the box office, but also our fantasies, for many years to come.

They Laugh Alike. They Walk Alike. At Times They Even Talk Alike.

Caution: You could lose your mind.

For all of you that don’t know –and since we don’t live in England or Mexico, that’s probably a lot of you – the U.S. Women’s National Team was in the World Cup Finals (that means soccer) back in July. They went head-to-head with the androgynous women of Japan in a hard-fought battle, but, spoiler alert, the U.S. lost to the Japanese (words that you rarely hear) in a shootout. For those of you envisioning a shootout of the O.K. Corral variety, you’re not alone; I, too, was hoping for a fight-to-the-death kind of performance. Turns out, however, that the only revolvers in a soccer shootout are the revolving players, as they each take a turn attempting to kick the ball into the goal. One-on-one. Just the kicker and the goalie.

 

As we gathered around the super-sized television, biting our nails and futilely praying for victory, it occurred to me that the woman playing goalie for the United States was none other than The Exorcism of Emily Rose and Dexter star Jennifer Carpenter!

Jennifer Carpenter: star of film, screen, and goal box?

True, the former Mrs. Michael C. Hall looked to have gained about 30 pounds of muscle, but it was her. I would’ve bet money on it. Imagine my surprise, then, to realize that the goalie was NOT in fact J. Carpenter, but was actually a totally different person, from a totally different family. No twin. No clone. No government-constructed, look-alike robot. Nope. Just a soccer-playing gal from Richland, Washington, trying to make it in the tough world of competitive sports.

Her name: Hope Solo. Her game: soccer superstar and goalie extraordinaire – at least I’ve heard she’s a spectacular goalie. I guess I’ll just have to take everyone’s word for it, seeing as how the one time I saw her play, she lost. And, considering the fact that she could easily kick my butt, that’s all I’ll say about that.

Hope Solo's ready to exorcise her dancing demons

 

Not content, though, to forevermore be known as the American who lost the World Cup, my girl Hope is trying her hand at Dancing with the Stars – because, obviously, (alleged) success on the soccer field translates perfectly into (potential) success on the dance floor

But, back to the topic at hand...

Perhaps in split-screen, Jennifer and Hope don’t look exactly, exactly alike, but I still hold to the fact that they are quite possibly the same person. And to all the naysayers out there, I leave you with one last question: Have you ever actually seen the actress and the athlete in the same place at the same time?

Yeah, that’s what I thought.    

If I Was a Rich Girl

I have been incredibly blessed in recent months to be surrounded by a wonderfully supportive group of friends and family as I try to work through my reality-TV addiction. But, of course, there will always be people who are more than willing to slip me a shot of Survivor or a snort of Top Chef and then I’m right back where I started. My most recent relapse occurred last week in the great state of Maryland, where I was introduced (by an enabling family member) to a new waste of time: Bachelor Pad. 

The Lawyer Barbies and Doctor Kens of Bachelor Pad

 

Have you seen this? I don’t watch The Bachelor or Bachelorette (I know, shocking that there are reality shows that I can’t actually tolerate) and therefore found no use for the aptly named Bachelor Pad. But what else is there to do on a rainy, cold Monday evening?

I actually kept my superior attitude -- holding fast to the belief that, although I’m more than happy to waste hours on the Housewives, I would never be so desperate as to give even a second of my time to the Bachelor or any of its shoot-offs -- for about 30 seconds. I don’t think they’d even finished recapping the previous week’s episode and I’d already thrown aside the project I’d been intending to work on, giving my full, awed attention to the whining and backstabbing in front of me.

There were two things that struck me most about this show: first, the overwhelming number of synthetically altered bodies all in one place. I had no idea the plethora of things that a woman (or man – I’m looking at you, Jake Pavelka) could have nipped, tucked, injected, plucked, shaved, implanted, waxed, plumped-up, or plumped down. This show really is an educational experience. Maybe they’ll start rerunning it on PBS, right after Sesame Street.

The second thing I noticed was that these people are idiots. I mean, it stands to reason that if you attempt to make yourself resemble Barbie in every possible way, your brain isn’t far to follow; and let’s be honest, Lawyer Barbie is more Elle Woods than Marcia Clark.

It could be argued that by simply allowing themselves to be filmed for the show, they’ve displayed a severe lack of intelligence – or, at the very least, judgment – but what struck me even more is how absolutely uninformed they were about how much (or how little) money they could potentially win.

They all had grand ideas of how to spend the prize money, pledging to buy their moms a house, their dads a car, and the entire country of Indonesia, all with their $15K winnings. (It was actually more like $125K, but still…) Note to the Barbies and Kens of Bachelor Pad: just because it sounds like a lot of money, doesn’t mean it actually is a lot of money – or that it will allow you to buy a multitude of high-priced items. It's not 1946. A hundred thousand dollars does not a millionaire make. 

Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll take $10 of those winnings and buy themselves a clue.

Right Honorable Fan

Dear Readers, tonight we have discovered something amazing.  Truly amazing.  Life changing amazing. 

The Right Honourable Gordon Brown is a loyal ATG reader.  It's true.  Take a moment for that to soak in. 

Tonight at a lecture on the Global Economy, Mr. Right Honourable gave a wink and a nod in ATGs direction during an anecdote.  Mr. Right Honourable was remaking that he usually apologizes for the British Empire in speeches he gives in America as we generally hate the idea of a monarchy (especially a Waity monarchy).  Then he revealed that he finds it ironic since American are the largest group of consumers of stories about the monarchy.  And who is the largest cosumer of monarchy stories?  ATG...  Somewhere in all that British humour and smoke and mirrors is an admission that Mr. Right Honourable reads ATG!!! 

Oh, and Gordie, no need to apologize about the British Empire.  Only apologize for losing the colonies.

Right Honourable thumbs up to ATG!

Worthlesque

I was hoping that in the wake of the 10^th anniversary of 9/11 – as we came together as a nation, and honored those who lost their lives – that some of that solidarity and goodwill would rub off on me, allowing me to go at least a week without being a jerk.

Then I made the mistake of watching Burlesque.

Why, you ask, would I choose to watch a movie starring Christina Aguilera when I’m trying to be a positive person? I cannot defend this decision. I can’t. Apparently Glitter taught me nothing.

What I can say is that my viewing experience started off positively enough. In fact, my first impression – meaning, the first 30 seconds – was that Christina wasn’t such a bad actress. This just goes to show how very wrong first impressions can be. Ms. Aguilera has less charisma than a head of lettuce; I’m talking iceberg lettuce, not even arugula or something interesting. And, although she obviously has an amazing vocal range, I find her voice to be a bit like nails on a chalkboard – only less pleasing to the ear. I literally spent the majority of the movie waiting for her to go away, which was unfortunate, considering she was the lead.

And please don’t even get me started on her “acting” (if you can call it that). She truly has less acting ability than she does charisma. She spent the greater part of the film staring off into space wistfully, and lowering her eyes bashfully. The good news is, if you fast-forward through most of Christina’s singing and acting, it’s a much shorter movie. 

You're as cold as ice...berg lettuce

But here’s what really got me. Forget the fact that a girl from Iowa has a New York accent. Forget the fact that Cher and Kristen Bell were supposed to be BFFs despite a 30-year age difference. I can even get past (eventually) the fact that Burlesque’s writers tried to convince us that Ali (Aguilera) was a likeable person – a total falsehood – by not having every person she came across punch her in the face. What I can’t forget, nor forgive, however, is what happened during Suckstina’s audition scene.

There sat Cher, with Stanley Tucci by her side in all his bald-headed glory, looking for a replacement dancer. They watched dancer after dancer leap across the stage. I’m talking chassés, grand jetés, pirouttes. These girls were bringing it. But none of them was good enough. Not one. Cher and Stan were about to throw in the towel when, wait, here came their lovably headstrong waitress to save the day! She busted out a few hair flips and some jazz hands and, surprise surprise, got the job.

And that was the best scene in the movie.

Burlesque had absolutely no redeeming qualities, no big payoff at the end. In fact, it left me totally cold; sitting there wondering what kind of voodoo magic the filmmakers had to do to fit both Cher and Christina’s giant diva attitudes and unparalleled narcissism on-screen at the same time.

On This Day in History

Today is the very special birthday of a very special prince; although, let’s be honest, every birthday this handsome prince celebrates is special, simply because it makes him another year legal. Rumor has it that this 27-year-old lovely will soon be in Vegas, which means so will ATG. Be prepared for some candid shots of the sweet ginger prince in the coming months; and don’t worry, with maximum-zoom cameras, that court-mandated, 100-yard separation feels like nothing.

How Did This Happen?

Ok, dear readers.  Confession time:  I often hate on famous women.  I know, I know.  It's very anti-feminist of me because we can never expect men to value us if we don't value ourselves... blah, blah, blah.  But the simple truth is I despise Katy Perry, largely on the grounds that she's a TERRIBLE role model for girls (one day I'll share my thoughts on Twilight).  And she's famous for "singing"  or what I call shout-talking over music.  Oh, and then there is her lack of fashion sense. 

Exhibit One:  Cheese Head

Let's examine Katy's body of work (or at least the radio hits).  I'll give you Firework, it's a catchy song with a good message but it might be the only one. 

• I Kissed a Girl (dismissive of lesbians, appeals to men's desires to watch two women get it on, shocking lack of talent)
• California Gurls (advocating sex in multiple public places, being hot and wearing almost no clothes, shocking lack of talent)
• Teenage Dream (again with the tight pants, drunk/blackout sex, shocking lack of talent)
• Ur So Gay (highly offensive lyrics both on quality and subject matter, use of text speak in non-text medium by a person over the age of 12,  shocking lack of talent

But the one that really gets to me is Last Friday Night (TGIF).  First, it's shockingly close to another song of hers, Waking Up in Vegas.  Second, songs about Friday night are played out (and Rebecca Black's song is better).  Third, she's bragging about getting black out drunk, having sex with strangers, and maxing out her credit cards.  Oh, and the video is a self-indulgent EIGHT AND A HALF MINUTES LONG.  And there is that shocking lack of talent issue. 

But what really gets me is that she wrote a song celebrating the joys of alcohol addiction and she's married to Russell Brand, a man who has struggled and is currently in recovery from drug and alcohol addiction.  I'm not saying Katy has to never talk about alcohol ever but to make money (serious money) and make light of the subject seems a bit insensitive.  Especially when Russell Brand just wrote a sensitive, thoughful, forward thinking essay on addiction.  

The trifecta: intelligent, funny & hot

And I really, really, REALLY wonder what she and Russell Brand talk about. 

KP: Hey babe, I just wrote THE NUMBER ONE SONG IN AMERICA. 

RB:  That's great babe!  I'm shockingly underrated in America.

KP:  My song is about getting black out drunk and not remembering that you had sex with a stranger and maxed out your credit cards and being super excited to do it all again in a week!

RB: One- I am talented and funny.  Two- I did crazier things in my binges.  Three- I'm in recovery from drug and alcohol use. 

KP: I have boobs!

Hmmmm... I may have just answered my own question....

Oh and Russell, don't worry about the American audience, we don't deserve you.  These people currently have the number two song in America. 

LMFAO?  Nope...

One Last Birthday Gift

Because we all love a man in uniform (and I can't stop at one download of the Ginger Prince - especially not on such a special day)...

Bringing gapped teeth back...

Birthday Math (The Good Kind)

It might not be blogging fame, but we here at ATG are into making birthday dreams come true.  With the help of math.  Oh yes, I said it.  Math.

For R's birthday, we here at ATG give you the following formula:

Take the brains of 

Serious smarty pants

Add the wit of

Can I be her, please?

And the beauty of

Daniel Craig is a lucky man

Multiply by the goodness of

Pictured with R's late future mother-in-law

And divide by total and utter adoration of

Devotion personified

And that's the Divine Miss R in a nutshell!

Now that's some math that we can all get behind...

You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby

Seeing as how today is the birthday of one of our award-winning (if I get my birthday wish) bloggers, I thought it would be interesting to see who else was celebrating a birthday today. (Expect a similar entry in November.) Turns out that there are many, many, many beautiful, talented, and intelligent September 2 babies; however, this post will focus only on a special few.

Salma Hayek 

Born 9/2/66 in Coatzacoalcos, Veracruz, Mexico

Spicy Salma

This dyslexic actress was also one of People’s Most Beautiful. Twice. With a father of Lebanese descent, a mother of Spanish descent, and a French husband, it’s no surprise that this feisty female is also fluent in 4 languages. I assume English is one of them, despite the fact that I rarely understand the words that are coming out of her mouth. But, as someone recently told me, she doesn’t need words; she speaks the language of l-o-v-e. And this talented lady can speak “love” in FOUR different languages. Her husband is a lucky man.

Keanu Reeves 

Born 9/2/64 in Beirut, Lebanon

Kind, yet Kooky, Keanu

Another one of the “Beautiful People,” Keanu has had a surprisingly busy acting career considering he can’t act. Don’t get me wrong, I love the kid, but he needs to stick to the Bill & Ted and Parenthood type roles; even Speed wasn’t too big a stretch for his acting chops. It’s when he starts trying to do Shakespeare – and accents – that we have problems. Listen, the guy’s probably never going to win an Oscar (although, if Nicolas Cage can, then obviously movie-caliber miracles do happen) but he knows that. He owns that. And it makes him exponentially more likeable and his movies exponentially more tolerable. Bottom line, I may avoid his movies like the plague, but I still consider myself a Keanu Reeves fan.

Mark Harmon

Born 9/2/51 in Burbank, California

Celebrating the big 6-0!

Manly Mark

The only stateside-born entry on our list, this Sexiest Man Alive (seriously, those 9/2 babies are some bea-utiful people) has been married to Mindy from Mork and Mindy (aka Pam Dawber) for 24 years. He played quarterback at UCLA, was Ricky Nelson’s brother-in-law, and rescued two boys from a burning car after they crashed outside his home. Basically, he’s the coolest guy ever. (Eat your heart out, Chuck Norris.) AND, he stars on NCIS. NCIS is a pretty awesome show of its own merit, but it’s made even awesomer by the fact that its casting department was smart enough to cast a friend of All That Glitters’s in an episode. Sure, they killed her with her head in a toilet, but the rest of her body gave an Emmy-worthy performance. No one plays a corpse like she does.  

So, as you can see, it doesn’t get much more fabulous than a September 2 baby. But don’t feel bad; I’m sure your birthdates are almost as awesome. In the (slightly altered) words of Wicked’s Galinda, the (not quite as) Good (as she thinks) Witch, “You’ll be (fabulous). Just not quite as (fabulous) as meeee!”

And now, let’s celebrate. Pink champagne for everyone!

Offending the Colonies

I know the royal visit was forever ago but the passing of time has never stopped me from being heated about something.  And dear readers, if I can't get over the past offenses of Waity through venting to you, what do I have?

I'm sure we all remember when Waity and the hubby graced the US (well, not the US, California) with their presence.  As far as I can tell, the main purpose of this visit was to offend the whole of America - especially Texans.  Why, for the love of everything, would they wear cowboy boots and hats in CALIFORNIA???  More specifically, LA???  And why only go to LA?  Is if for Waity to show off how thin she is by comparison?  Yawn.

What the visit did give us is a series of hilarious pictures that I will turn into a comic strip.  This is done through my magic abilities to read the hearts and minds of the annoying through Paparazzi pictures.  Its a talent.

Waity:  Hey Willis, one has a great idea!  Let's dress like cowboys in LA!

Willis:  Um, Waity.  I think that may be offensive.  I mean did you do a Google search?

 Waity: One needn't!  One is the Queen of England, um, future Queen.  The colonies are lucky that one is deigning them with one's presence!

Willis:  Um, Waity, I feel self conscious.  And I feel like these pants give me lady hips.

Waity:  Well, they do, sort of.  Use those hips to walk with a swagger.  One believes that one saw a Clint Eastwood move on a transatlantic flight.  One was in business first because one was poor.  One doesn't like to remember those times.

Waity:  WILLIS! One's feet are tired of walking!  Get one a stage coach!

Willis:  Waity,  that really is going too far.  It's highly offens...

Waity:  GET ONE A STAGECOACH NOW!!!

Waity:  Oooooh, Willis!  One sees a colonist with good plugs!  One thinks it is Nicholas Cage.  One demands that you get plugs now.

 
Willis:  I don't want plugs.  I want to be natural.  It's the British way.  Remain quiet, deal with your lot in life.

Waity:  One has already made an appointment.  One cannot be buying you hats to wear everyday.  One has food not to eat and clothes to buy for one's self.

Willis:  I'm just going to stand over here and pretend I'm the Malboro Man.  He wouldn't get plugs if his wife demanded he did.

Waity:  Ooooh!  One is glad you are getting into this!  One feels like Debra Winger in Urban Cowboy.  One loves one's life!