The notorious trailer. Apparently the Broccoli family isn’t all about that “right to satirize” statute anymore than Prince is. They sued.
Category Archives: Celebrity
duct tape, lingerie of the Great White North
Maybe you have Victoria’s Secret stores where you live. Oh fine, gloat. They’re illegal here, or sumpin’, for lo, we have nothing so much as a dearth of Victoria’s Secret stores here in Canuckistan. What does this mean? It means that inhabitants of the Great White North, male and female, must make do with what they have and, in many cases it means that we must make do with such lingerie as is available from Lee Valley.
Victoria’s Secret supplies, in addition to reasonably-priced suiting lines and blog fodder, and as you may be aware, a diverse range of lingerie, including push up sports bras, strapless contraptions in sizes larger than you’d think prudent, and much more. And, frankly, however overpriced they may be, they all work.
But up here in Canuckistan, we are deprived. We can do the online thang. We can do the mailorder thang. But if we do not do the credit card thang we cannot do the Victoria’s Secret thang in any way, shape, or form.
Except…
Except in the most Canadian form of all. Let me tell you a twofer of tales that will tell you that, when it comes to continence or glamour, Canuckistan will take a back seat to no-one.
cut to Gilligan’s Theme music.
Once upon a time, like last night, mine hosts told a tale, a tale of a fateful shit. That started from their friends’ baby, and that was all of it. The baby knew the diaper was the way to own its’ parents, so nightly she’d divest herself of it’s malevolence. No way! No hope! The diaper shed, no matter what the ‘rents would do. Halfway through sleep they would awake and toss that fateful poo.
ENTER RED GREEN
So the baby took its diaper off for attention: solve the problem the Red Green way, by duct taping the diaper in place. Until baby can handle a switchblade, you’re good to go!
So ends Part the First.
Part the Second: I taped my tits for this?
Surely I can’t be the only woman who’s admired a photo of a fortysomething celeb whose boobs are still perky enough to put out an eye. The secret, as I learned from my in-the-know friend Sandy, is Duct Tape.
I am a fortysomething not-yet-celeb, and I have, as I may have mentioned, long since transcended human dignity. I was also a woman who had to attend an avante-garde art opening in a strapless bodysuit.
I used the duct tape.
Three days and six showers later I was unsticky. I think I have finally figured out the secret to Brandon Davis’ unique attraction: no matter how coated with adhesives you may be, you’ll slide right off his grease-streaming carcass.
Show me the luv, people: the Bloggie Awards: nominatez-moi!
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Rose Bowl: 200 stormtroopers on parade
And when Darth Vader himself is leading and George Fucking Lucas himself is watching, you’d better believe these amateurs took it very, very seriously.
This year is the 30th anniversary of Star Wars, and to celebrate it a group of fans called the 501st Legion: Vader’s Fist wanted to participate in the annual Rose Bowl parade in their homemade Imperial stormtrooper costumes. Normally, George Lucas is, frankly, a bit of an asshole when it comes to “copyright abuse” and all that, but in this case something got to him (perhaps he has a dog named Max?) and he softened up, allowing them to perform unimpeded, and even helped some of them with their airfare.
After presenting George Lucas with a Stormtrooper helmet autographed by 200 parade-attending 501st members and a personalized 501st Legion letterman jacket, the troops performed a quick series marching routines for Grand Marshal Lucas at the Pasadena training grounds. Satisfied with the presentation, the team of drill instructors (comprised of the Legion’s own experienced members led by Col. Anthony Toledo) released the troops to enjoy a few short hours of “down time” before launching 2007 in Star Wars style. Not only is the new year the 30th anniversary of Star Wars, but also the 10th anniversary of the 501st Legion. Thank you to all of our friends, family and fans who have given the Legion such wonderful support for the past decade! Happy New Year!
Here is the video of the Star Wars section of the parade, including Lucasfilm‘s two floats (note to overseas readers: all the float decorations and colouring in the Rose Bowl parade are made from the petals of real flowers. In a sense, it’s the most biodegradable and ecofriendly parade there is!) featuring boogeying ewoks and the Queen of Naboo, wherever the hell Naboo is. Like you saw the last three films either. Alas, no Chewie.
No, there was no Jar Jar Binks.
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motivational video of the year: Impossible is the opposite of possible, by Michael Cera
Stolen from Gawker. Sure, Aleksey Vayner‘s video was so over the top as to constitute unintentional self-parody, but I’m all for piling on when you smell blood, and Vayner‘s been hemoragging ever since Dealbreaker got ahold of the damn thing and broke it worldwide. Wonder what he’s doing now? I expect the phrase “Would you like that Venti-sized?” figures large in his workday.
In any case, here is Michael Cera, former Arrested Development star, kicking sand in the eyes of the hapless Uzbek. I’d like to take this opportunity to point out that I was the first person to question whether or not that was him in the skiing section, a point obviously not lost on Cera.
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Fuck Them All, by Mylene Farmer
What is it about French female singers? Last time I got this verbose over a music video was Vanessa Paradis’ Coup Coup, which was indeed a sweet little video, even if her voice was never going to set the world on fire. This time it’s Mylene Farmer, an unspeakably beautiful and delicate (and, apparently, immortal) redhead with a voice that would charm, if not the birds out of the trees, at least all the slackers off the sofa and to the window, and whom I first ran across on MuchMusic, our godforsaken Canuckistani music channel, and then a couple of years later at my friend Alain‘s place. He wanted to show me this amazing CD he’d gotten, all in French, from a friend of his who was a flight attendant. He was rather shocked I knew the songs, but who could forget Comme J’ai Mal? Both the song and the video, with Mylene transforming into an exquisite butterfly/moth hybrid are absolutely unforgettable, and it doesn’t hurt that she followed that up with California, one of the best, and most brutal, synopses of the SoCal experience in music. It kicks Hotel California into the dust, particularly if you know what the words actually mean, which is always optional in Hollywood.
And she’s a Canuck, too. We all look like that, honest.
But this is her comeback song, from 2005, and it’s called Fuck Them All. She hasn’t aged a minute, although something about her face screams really expensive work done, the voice is as amazing as ever, and so is the sense of theatre. Enjoy this Goth romance/feminist emancipation/war protest song. It just may be the most beautiful protest song ever filmed. Translation coming TK; I don’t trust my own French. Volunteers?
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French lyrics and English translation over the jump, courtesy Mylene Farmer International Forum, which also has some interesting interpretations of the song. Follow the link for those.
raincoaster 