CW Network Makes a Case for Striking Writers with ‘Crowned’

Two weeks ago, after the (totally fixed) Top Model finale, the CW network did a huge favor to the currently-striking WGA members.

It foretold a chilling tale of the future of broadcasting, barring an end to the strike… sub-par reality TV.

Ladies and Gents, hold your noses for: Crowned, The Mother of All Pageants.

Yes, the show is as insipid as the title suggests. Several pairs of mother-daughter teams live in a cheesy bubblegum-pink “castle” whilst competing against each other, beauty-pageant style.

Slate magazine referred to the contestants like this:

Some were veterans of the tiara circuit, and others were rank amateurs, and most were wearing too much blush. Their universe is gynocentric and homosocial.

True enough, save for one exception: Annette and Alana, the least-vapid (and most out-of-place) team. Mom is a professor, and daughter just seems like a normal, well-educated, non-pageant type of girl. I was looking to these two to give the show a breath of fresh, un-perfumed air.

[Cue 'Ironic' by Alanis Morrisette .]

Screech & Mom, The Plagiarizing Bombshells

Instead, they offered comic relief… and an extreme example of what happens when one spends all of one’s time in a book: functional illiteracy.

The teams were given the task of selecting a name that conveyed inner and outer beauty.

The walking-Texas-pageant-cliche types chose predictably bad (but rightfully descriptive) names, like Skin Deep, Hot and Not, and my fave, The Redheaded Bombshells (who, in naming themselves, tried to one-up The Blonde Bombshells). Oh, the Drama!

The Plagiarized Ones

So by the time Annette and Alana came up, I was hoping for something cerebral. In Latin, perhaps? Mom is an Anthropology Professor, after all!

We get to watch them brainstorm. They want something to convey their quiet yet intelligent nature.

We practically see a light bulb form over Daughter’s head.

“Silent but deadly!” she cries.

At this point, I’m prepared to cut her some slack. She is young, after all, and with youth comes naivete.

Silent But Deadly

I’m waiting for Professor Mom to chuckle and explain the fart connotation, perhaps suggesting they call themselves “The Embeletifas instead (latin for quiet and lethal.)

But she does not.

Instead, Professor Mom says “That’s brilliant!”

Cut to the “De-sashing Ceremony”.

There, looking otherwise calm and dignified, stand A & A in twin sashes that say “Silent But Deadly”.

The Judges are visibly trying to hold it in. As if it weren’t enough to have to deliver lines like “One of you will be DE-SASHED!” with gravity, now they have the two most intelligent contestants sporting beauty-queen style sashes with “Silent But Deadly” in scripted font.

Head Judge Shanna Moakler, MTV Star of “Meet The Barkers”, has to be thinking this whole thing is a set-up for “PUNK’D”. She’s not uttering a word.

The honors fall on Carson from Queer Eye, who is visibly appalled at having to say that the name makes him think of (covers face in horror)”Silent smelly farts!”

Poor, poor Mom. Her face was priceless. But on the plus side, the drama surrounding the misguided name kept their team on for another week.

And in the following episode, they showed themselves to be a class-act. Which is another way of saying bo-ring in Reality TV lingo. And boring= eliminated.

If only they had taken a cue from the other black team- the Einsteins who called themselves “Skin Deep” (after the Judges pointed out the absurdity of their name, they changed to “Beauty is Skin Deep” which, you know, shows how much deeper they are.)

Say what you will about these bitches, but they know the Omorosa Law (which dictates that in Reality TV, the Villain(s) will make it to the finals, regardless of performance). Not only did they trash-talk and almost start a fight (I’m guessing that they were cast to fill the stock role of angry black woman squared), but Mom repeatedly flashed her cooch for good measure. How’s that for pageantry?

Despite doing horribly in all of the competitions, as of episode four they are still around. I predict they make it into the finals, which will do even more to de-elevate the show and the status of the reality genre.

Damn, I miss the writers. I miss airwaves that aren’t littered with crap.

So WGA members, relax. The CW network is doing more for your cause than any amount of press could.

It’s NOT Bad Plastic Surgery! New Disease Offers Explanation for Jackson Oddities

A new type of Vitiligo?

Yesterday my eyes were assaulted while reading jezebel,  the virtual equivalent of  Jane Magazine [R.I.P.] (+) US Weekly (-) Glamour.  Jezebel’s tag-line is “Celebrity, sex, fashion. Without airbrushing.“ 

Given the context, you can imagine how unsettling it was to stumble upon the (presumably non-airbrushed) image of Janet Jackson on the left.

Apparently, when your last name is Jackson, every day is Halloween [cue Ministry song of the same name].

It’s one thing to catch a bad case of Madamism at the Plastic Surgeon’s office, but the Jacksons seem to be subject to a disease that makes Madamism seem entirely benevolent: Trans-col-o-sex-us (TCS).

On the upside, we now have a perfectly rational explanation for the Jacksons’ spontaneously mutating bodies, lily-white offspring, inappropriate bed-sharing, and devastatingly inappropriate fashion choices!

Check out the presentation below and become enlightened:

WARNING: Do not fall asleep within 30 minutes of viewing; this is high-octane nightmare fuel.

Vapidly,

Jenna

Public Service Time: gift-giving advice for men who want to get laid next year

HINT: if you follow their gift-giving advice, you’ll be needing to use this photo a whole lot next year. (Print, laminate and hide in bathroom!)

It’s practically Christmas, but I know most men haven’t yet found the inner resolve to undertake the most overwhelming of tasks: shopping for the wife/girlfriend.

Because it’s the season of giving and I’m nothing if not generous, I’d like to offer men and the women who love them a public service. Let’s call it chick-gifting 101.

For the guys out there, proper chick-gifting requires you to understand one key principle.

Now I realize that the following maxim is kind of like the warning label that says “this bag is not to be used as a flotation device”, obvious but sadly necessary.

Most of you men out there may find it a tad condescending. Still, if it saves just one man from disaster, it’s worth stating.

So here goes.

Men and women are different.

Men are into utility and problem-solving. To most of you straight men, no gift is as thoughtful as a gadget, tool, or the ever-popular and effortless gift-card to an electronics/home improvement store.

Women, however, generally want something personal and tasteful. Utility ranks a distant third.

So guys, unless she specifically asked for something from the electronics or appliances department, stay away.

Unless your new year’s resolution is involves never sleeping with her again.

But you knew this already, right?

You were planning on getting her something personal, fashionable and not cheap. You’re even planning to make your annual pilgrimage to the mall for her!

But before you do, you’d best be armed with the following knowledge.

What can I say, it’s the holidays and I’m here to help.

It’s a sad fact that where there are generous givers like yourself, there are unsavory scam artist-types, just waiting to take advantage your good intentions.

No, I’m not referring to Ms. Nabu Mshindi, third cousin to the Sultan of Nigeria, who will gladly give you a piece of her 50Million$US fortune if you kindly wire her the bank fees in advance.

I’m talking about scam artists who are much more shrewd; those who have perfected the art of flying beneath the radar while taking advantage of well-meaning but naive targets like you.

They refer to themselves as Ad Executives.

Being a man, you probably think yourself too wise to be had. But, I’m telling you, these evil-doers are shrewd.

They’ve even gone so far as to conduct covert ops in order to find out the way you think. They even have a nice-sounding term for it: market research.

It seemed like a good idea at the time!

They know that as of right now, your mind is reeling with something like this:

Shit, I’ve got to get something suitable for my chick so I don’t have to worry about not getting laid. Let’s see, what would I want if I were her? Something useful and sweet, like a big-screen TV. Better not risk it though…after I gave her that super-high end vacuum last year, she cut off sex until March! Chicks! So impossible to figure out! Better play it safe and get her something feminine and classy, even if it means going to the mall. At least she’ll know I did something I hate doing to get the damned gift. That ought to be good for a few blow jobs.

Good intentions like these present the perfect opportunity for the aforementioned scam artists.

You want to get her something feminine and seemingly classy.

More likely than not, though, you have no idea what these adjectives actually mean to a woman.

All the scammer has to do is convince you that his product fits the bill.

They know how to get to you, invading your subconscious via your beloved big-screen TV. They litter the airwaves with ads during football; ads that show hot women receiving the most foreign of objects, lingerie and jewelry, and falling all over themselves with delight.

No matter that the products advertised are made in China for 1/100th of their retail price. Like a bad polyester wig, the products look authentic to the untrained eye but quickly fall apart when actually used.

Of course, you men never use these products yourselves– right?– so you’re likely to think that $250 at Victoria’s or Kay Jewelers was money well spent.

Until you see your woman’s expression on Christmas day.

Write it down: MUST NOT SHOP AT VICTORIA’S SECRET OR KAY JEWELERS. IGNORE HOT CHICKS IN ADS.

These companies are the absolute worst. They are practically modern snake-oil salesmen. They are purveyors of sub-quality crap.

The fact that VS makes the bulk of it’s revenue during the holiday season should tell you something: women never buy their crap for themselves. In fact, Target makes a higher-quality bra.

But it gets worse. There is a larger problem that comes from shopping at VS.

Buying a woman cheaply-made, badly-designed (read: uncomfortable) lingerie means you’ve just bought her something only good for use in the bedroom.

This makes it second only to the big-screen TV as the most self-serving of gifts a man can buy.

If you think your woman really was cool when you bought her something from Victoria’s Secret in the past, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say she has passive-aggressive tendencies. Or a room-temperature IQ.

Because just about any woman worth buying for sees the VS Christmas gift as a ploy.

And whether you realize it or not, upon receiving your gift, she may very well get mad enough to deny you sex.

How’s that for irony?

And how many relationships fall apart because of sex, or more precisely, lack thereof?

So please don’t fall into their traps. These evil scam artists break up families!

Only slightly less offensive are the scam artists working for Kay Jewelers. Still, their methods are equally shady.

Men know that women love jewelry. What they don’t know is why.

Women see jewelry as an expression of a man’s willingness to endure a sacrifice for the sake of their woman’s happiness. We don’t really want that 2.5-karat engagement ring so we can stare at it all day. After all, diamond jewelry, unlike costume jewelry, is worn not for fashion but for sentimental reasons. The real reason we want that pricey rock is because it tells us that our man thinks we are worth the $25K sacrifice he endured by purchasing it.

More importantly, it tells the world that we are worth it!

Nothing says “My man is poor… and has no taste” like these pebbles!

So when a man buys us something as tacky as Kay Jewelers’ “journey pendant”, which is nothing but small diamond scraps, it tells us, and more importantly the world, that our man thinks we are worth very little.

Add to that the fact that this same pendant can be bought at a jewelry mart in downtown LA for $50, and you’ll understand why no self-respecting woman would wear it regularly.

Which leads me to my next suggestion for all of you gift-challenged dudes: if you must buy jewelry, go downtown and buy the largest solitaire diamond earrings you can afford.

A better choice for your woman (and your libido)

Personally, I’m wearing a pair of 1/2K diamond earrings right now that cost about the price of that hideous journey pendant.

If jewelry isn’t in the cards for you, figure out what kind of perfume your woman wears and buy some. Or better yet, ask her girlfriends what the hot handbag is right now, and get it for her.

But please, do not buy the cheaper version with the slightly different label. It may be the same to you, but I promise, there is a big difference between Gucci and Cucci.

If you want the latter, better spring for the former.

Public Service Announcement complete.

Have a Merry Christmas, and a Vapid New Year!

Vapidly,

Jenna

Doc, there’s something in my Botox! Madamism Strikes Hollywood

As noted in my last post, everyone you see on television makes money with their looks. If you have a but-her face, it doesn’t matter how talented you are; no one wants to watch you on their screen. Or at least that’s how casting directors see things.

So it’s no surprise that most, if not all TV actors follow the sage advice of their respective managers and do whatever necessary to try and hold on to their looks.

Ever notice how soap actors don’t seem to age at all? No, they are not living on a zero-gravity planet; they are living in the offices of good, subtle Dermatologists and Plastic Surgeons. But sometimes, as in the case of Kanye West’s mom, things go awry.

Fortunately, ‘awry’ usually doesn’t equal death. Sometimes it equals caricature-ism: stars end up looking like a cross between the Joker and a blowfish. Or like a tranny puppet… but more on that later.

No single soap actor illustrates this point quite like Hunter Tylo. Remember her? She sued Aaron Spelling for sex discrimination and won approximately one zillion dollars. Sadly, she just lost a son to a seizure disorder (for which she is suing his therapist.)

With all of those lawsuit winnings, one would expect her to seek out the best Plastic Surgeon known to man.

Instead, she appears to have visited Dr. Frankenstein.

It doesn’t add up. I smell a rat!

Could it be that Hunter, overcome with grief, decided she wants to quit the biz without forfeiting future earnings?

If a Plastic Surgeon were to ruin her face, he’d be responsible for her inability to work ever again…. ka-ching! Problem solved!

Honestly, I’d believe this sue-happy explanation if I hadn’t seen this effect on stars elsewhere. Whatever it is, it seems to strike suddenly, without warning. One day you look normal, and the next… you look like Priscilla Presley, circa 2007. Or Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

Could it be that there is a vicious disease striking middle-aged actors?

In fact, there is. It is what cityrag calls Madamism. It’s too early to know for sure, but it appears to be transmitted through contaminated Botox and/or scalpels, primarily in the Los Angeles metro area.

Madamism is named for Madame (from Wayland Flowers and Madame), the transvestite puppet who appeared on Solid Gold, Hollywood Squares and had a short lived TV show, Madames Place.

Check out this photo compilation (from cityrag) and venture a guess: which one is Madame?

HINT: it’s not the woman on the left. Don’t let the size of the photo fool you!

Still not sure? Maybe it’s one of these:

This phenomenon is really sad, because when done properly, plastic-procedures really can appear to stop time.

Just look at Cindy Crawford, 15 years ago (with Gere) and now (with Gerber).

If everyone in Hollywood would convert to Cindy’s Dermo and/or Plastic Surgeon, any and all new cases of Madamism could be avoided!

Sadly, for those already infected, the prognosis is as uncertain as their prospects for future acting jobs.

While reconstructive surgeons can offer some  help in treating Madamism, advanced cases do not respond well to any sort of treatment.

But this need not necessarily equal death for the victim’s acting career!

Some victims may be able to continue to find acting work portraying very narrow types of characters. To wit: Mickey Rourke was spot-on as a meth-lab ‘cook’ in Spun!

This may actually be good news for the Madamism victim who has complained that she never gets taken seriously as an actor. If Nicole Kidman can win an Oscar due to an unsightly prosthetic nose, imagine what Madamism can do!

Of course, there’s the undeniable fact that most victims only found work due to their pre-Madamism looks. Put another way, their ‘craft’ was not acting, it was looking good in front of the camera.

Not to worry. These Madamism victims still have somewhere to turn when it comes time to pay the Malibu mortgage…

Paging Hunter Tylo’s lawyer!

US Magazine reveals A-List Celebrity Plastic Surgery… This is news?

US Weekly is sporting a cover this week with earth-shattering news: celebrities get plastic surgery! A-listers, even!!

Why anyone would be surprised by this– you mean people that make their living off of their looks get work done?– is really the only interesting thing about this cover.

Now I did spend almost 2 years living in LA– working in the entertainment industry even– so I may have a skewed view here.

But it really is just common sense.

Not to mention tax deductible (just like the cost of J-Lo’s butt insurance)! As it should be.

A commercial real estate broker gets a deduction for the face lift on his strip mall, right? Why shouldn’t Teri Hatcher be entitled to the same?

So if it’s just business, why do celebs consistently lie about having work done?

As any decent publicist will tell you, a celeb’s success or failure is determined by the public’s ability to relate to them.

Stars! They’re just like US!!

Except they get to write off the cost of tabloid subscriptions and plastic surgery come April 15.

But I digress.

Admitting to plastic surgery consumption is considered a no-no because of fears that said public will think a star is ‘fake’. Of course, if the work is obvious and not explainable otherwise (like Star Jones’s weight loss or Ashlee Simpson’s schozz) it becomes necessary to cop to it… but only as a last resort.

To wit: how long did we have to listen to Ms. Jones droll on about Pilates as she shrank before our eyes on The View? And we all know how that turned out.

Yes, she eventually copped to the gastro-bypass surgery… while trying to gain public goodwill in order to promote her talk show/book/whatever. Needless to say, whatever it was bombed.

After all, while it’s one thing to be ‘fake’, nothing inspires public hatred like being branded a liar. Michael Jackson, anyone?

In the end, if a celeb must cop to plastic surgery, said celeb is better off if he or she can manage to remain relate-able in the process.

Pseudo-celeb/publicity whore Heidi Montag did this beautifully: Revenge Plastic Surgery! She finagled a cover-story and maybe even elicited sympathy:

“The boys in high school made fun of my flat chest!”

Being the subject of ridicule in High School? Now who can’t relate to that?

“I hated my body!”

Hatred of one’s own body? The horror!  Pass the Kleenex!

Of course, everyone knows The Hills is fake… and Heidi’s ‘engagement’ is too (let’s hope- have you seen the ring?)

So maybe she figured she had nothing to lose and everything to gain here? Everyone already thought she was fake, and sort of felt sorry for her, because she’s engaged to a psychotic douche-bag.

And it’s much easier to relate to those you sympathize with. That, my friends, is another publicist’s maxim.

In closing, I’d like to share a little gem I learned whilst working in the Industry: If no one knows you had anything done, it is not plastic surgery. You are genetically blessed… with brains that told you to go to the subtle Plastic Surgeon. But still.

Ooh, and Kyra Sedgwick is right. Botox doesn’t count. It’s like coloring one’s hair.

No, really!!

‘Til next time…

Vapidly,

Jenna