How's My Tan?

San Diego Comic Convention.

Please remember that I love comic books and am an avid fan, the following post is not slam the fans of the genre it's just a light poke at some humor. Oh, and this isn't really a disclaimer. I'm just filling space so that bloggerz testy little html will recognize the picture and not block out all my dialogue, as per usual.

This weekend was the 39Th annual Comic Con and the fans were out. Not like they weren't already in the mood from all the sci-fi crazy stuff that's been at the box office this summer, but many chose the opportunity to dress up. Star Wars, X-Men, Pixar and many other fine franchises were well represented. That is until I came across Batman's representative. I think the Knight needs more Dark. And less Ho-Ho's. God bless Southern California.

If you haven't seen the soon-to-be the biggest picture of all time, go see "The Dark Knight". It will prove to you once and for all that Batman is way cooler than Superman. And the caliber of acting that is in this movie is amazing. Aaron Eckhart needs to marry me. Ooops, did that just print? Damn fingers. And remember after you see it, go directly(not straight) to see Mamma Mia. OMG.

How did I get this gay?

(photo LA Times)

Mamma Mia!

The irony of this post following the memorial post to Estelle Getty is palpable. This post is to tell you to get your monkey asses to the theater and see the craziest musical movie of all time, Mamma Mia. It is what the genre is supposed to be (that's right Rent, you hang your head). A crazy romp through music and beautiful frames. The fact that I want to do this on the heels of saying Good bye to a TV icon grandmother is unplanned. Extolling your mom, and recognizing extremely talented people. Incongruous. How funny life can be?

Mortality observations aside, seeing this movie will redesign how you look at life and all it's simplicities. The setting is gorgeous, the cast too. Set on a Greek Isle, remote and craggy, the set provides opportunities for staging that will have you breathless at the activity. Stairs, ladders, drain pipes, vistas, lagoons, piers, donkeys, olive groves, I could go on, but I'm too busy humming the score. The music has a devil beat that gets those of us with happy feat to start the delicious chair dancing. Belzebub's got a devil put aside for me. And soon the arms are into it, and your getting notes from the row behind you. I'm telling you that if you don't feel anything while watching this movie have someone check your pulse or just toe tag yourself DNR.

It's material is based on Pop music from a day gone by, with a romantic comedy heart and a head for impeccable delivery. The unbridled energy grabs you and won't let go until it's had it's disco way with you. Gnarly good times. Please, Merrill and Pierce singing their hearts out? Christine Baranski AND Julie Walters as backup singers? Does this come with a side of linguine white clam, cause I don't know how it could get any better. Mamma Mia! The townspeople and wedding party provide a crazy Grecian Chorus to echo the action and dialogue and to even provide council at times. What is this Aeshchylus? Just getting back to our old Grecco roots in theatre I guess. Oh, and it's homotastic, ie Fabulous. There will be shrieking from the community, be ready to find fellow Mo's in the audience. This crazy film has had me going all week, biding my time until I can see it again. This is good because after seeing The Dark Knight, everyone needs a little sunshine. Go see this movie. Now.

Ciao, Sophia.

The passing of one of TV's most phenomenal grandmothers saddened the Entertainment community yesterday. Estelle Getty passed away yesterday morning 5:30 am at her home in Hollywood. I'd been long hearing about the horrible disease that was ravaging Estelle Getty, beloved actress who created Sophia Petrillo of TV's The Golden Girls. I was amazed that she had hung in there for as long as she'd been sick; ten years plus. I'm not surprised considering the spunk with which she tackled her roles on big/small screens. She was always feisty and broke the mold when it came to grandmother roles in the TV genre. Her spirit was infectious and left an indelible mark on her audiences.

The Golden Girls ran from 1985-1992. The show was an instant hit showcasing women late in life and their struggles. The show was inspirational and fodder for many well-repeated lines from episodes. "Is that all you Italians know how to do, scream and hit?, " asked Blanche of Sophia. To which she responds, "No. We also know how to make love and sing opera." I still smile at that one. Granted the shows appeal had a large fan base with women and gay men but that's about 2/3 the populace when you really think about it.

I most appreciate that she came to this role after struggling in the entertainment Industry for forty years. On her third audition she told the make up person this was her role of a lifetime, that they needed to make her look eighty or they would be flushing away a forty year career. She won the role and then our hearts. Her tenacity needs to be celebrated along with her humor. She really was a Golden Girl. Ciao, Estelle.

(Getty Images)

It could be worse..........

.......It could be a thong. I'll explain. Surfing the internet I come to David Hauslaib's Queerty website and find this little number. Literally. A piece about grape catchers or banana hammocks if you will. Read/View the San Antonio marvel; Bikini Man.

Honestly, I threw up in my mouth a little.

Joey Chestnutt does it again.

What would the Fourth be without Nathan's Annual Hot Dog Eating Contest? I love this sport, it doesn't get enough of a tourney season. I think ESPN would behoove itself to show more episodes of Gluttony. I want to see the championship chili eaters, oyster shooters and pie snarfers. So when Independence Day comes, I salute the flag, turn on the TV and get ready to test my gag reflex.

Participating in this competition and viewing it takes a strong constitution. Watching the discomfort of the athletes (yeah, I'll call them that) in their struggle to maintain and to compete requires the fans to have an obscene tolerance to hideous. These are the people rubbernecking up and down the freeways and lingering at the open coffin wakes. These are the people who receive emails from Ripley's and Mdme. Tussuad's museums. I'm one.

In the first ever OT tie breaker in the competition's history, the finalists had ten minutes to consume five hot dogs. It was sudden death. The air was fetid, the pressure (on all levels) huge. The chance of 'Reversal Of Fortune' becoming clearer by the bite. Joey Chestnutt does it again! The winner in sudden death, was jubilant and pretty bloated. Rival Takeru Kobayashi took the defeat amiably but seems to have had is day in the sun.

Happy Fourth, from this spataglutton, to yours. Go eat something.

Indy.

On the fourth of July my Sista Sal and I have a tradition dating back to when we lived in a tiny little cottage near the shore in Yankee Key West. We have many strange rituals but this particular one is rather handy. The fourth of July is reserved for cleaning out the fridge. It seems random but if you've read any of my freaking posts you'll understand that I am the original Random House. I'm Random McNally when you try to 'go about it.' Get it, 'go about it'? Yeah, I know, "blah blah blah." So clean the fridge it is.

It starts around 11:30 am, so that the midday heat raises the stakes of your food going bad. Also the time guarantees you a good sweat for the task. Now the freezer is available to be part of the day, but not necessary. I only recommend doing it if you have extra hands. Connected to extra bodies to assist you I mean, not in the Jeffrey Dahmer, "Oh look the extra hands are on the Lean Cuisines" way. Onward. All old and unrecognizable products are trashed and the offending bag is brought immediately to the can in the yard, or dumpster be that as it may. No reason to gag any more than is absolutely necessary, I've always sad. Then the condiments are reorganized on the floor to make for a speedy transition back to their homes. They also make for a fun game of bowling with your pets. All the shelves are wiped and the remove able shelves scrubbed and dried. A good dose of dish detergent is recommended as Windex will only provide "The Illusion Of Clean" and a scent that will haunt your fridge like an angry pimp. Dive into the meat drawer and scrape up unused cheese products and or pate residuals. This can also provide a nice snack for some unsuspecting visitor who pops in for the holiday. Won't you just smile? After the meat drawer remove the produce bins and have at them. They endure the most abuse catching all the rotting fruit and veggies, kind of like Deena MacGreevy. Scrub and Purge, scrub and purge.

At this time send someone for sandwiches, sushi and a new Arm and Hammer Baking Soda for the fridge. Drink some of the odd beers that have collected themselves on your door. Nothing speaks the spirit of the holiday as a toast with Mexican, Japanese and Dutch beers. You should be pretty sweaty by now and the fridge is ready to restore. Replace all the drawers and shelves and wipe finger prints with semi damp cloth. Replace all food to the fridge interior, checking as you go to see if there's been spoilage. This is the added risk that makes the tradition so lively. Replace all condiments and mop floor from all the condensation. Do it with an attitude of looking down at the mess with righteous indignation, sort of a condescension to condensation. Yuk Yuk.

All in all the task should take an hour and will bring the family together. Even if you are on separate coasts, traditions can thrive and memories stay alive. My fridge is clean and my heart is too. I hope you can take from these experiences and raise your own hygiene.

It's a girl!!!!!!

I've been following this story for awhile. I think it's amazing the relationship the Beaties have to endure such amazing ignorance from the general public and the media. The face of gender is changing and people are going to have to realize that. Maybe while they're growing in to this acceptance we can pay women the same as men, remember Lincoln freed the slaves, and that persecution by the basis of love is an oxymoron. (dumb cattle) (I like)


Thomas Beatie of Bend, Oregon successfully delivered a healthy baby girl today. Beatie is the first 'Pregnant Man' on record. An out transsexual, Beatie lives his life as a man, having had his breasts removed and taking hormones. He kept his sexual organs so that he and wife Nancy would one day have this child. How cool is that?

Picture courtesy of ABC

Rabbit, rabbit

Here we are again. Another month and another summer. June never seems to exist in my minds eye. It's like I'm facing May one minute, getting all hot and bothered for the summer rising when the June rug is pulled out from underneath me and I'm staring at ads for 4Th of July and then Back to School ads. Usually it just flies by me but I'm determined to enjoy this year's. (And very intrigued...)

Can you believe we begin a new era on the roads of Southern California? Just when you get used to the traffic and the gun fire and the inability of people to drive in the rain; we're thrown a new curve. As of July 1st we have been liberated from our hand held cell phones. It's illegal to be driving and talking on the cell phone without a hands-free device. I look at it very Trekkian, If you have Uhura on deck to open your hailing frequencies neatly it clears the way for Sulu's photon torpedoes. (PS George Takeii, congrats on last months wedding to Mr Altman-'Live Long and Prosper) The business of looking down, dialing, redialing, looking up numbers etc will be eliminated. Right. This is so people may better focus on the task at hand-driving. Right. People weren't focused on this before cell phones, I'm not sure how this is going to be better. People make the most of their time in the car in LA. Conversations on the phone are just the tip of the iceberg of what happens in between point a and point b.

I have seen some of the gnarliest (you heard me, gnarliest) sitcoms that happen in my neighboring fishbowls du traffique. Truly, Comedia Del Car(t). I've seen a woman style her hair, apply lip product, pluck, blend and jugze her eyelashes while chatting up her toddler child in the car seat behind her. I've seen crossword enthusiasts ala 'Sideways' both in pen and pencil. I saw a man most recently alternate a rapid feeding between his soda and his Tupperware of pasta. I once saw a very small car merge onto the highway with the driver white-knuckling the steering wheel. This was as a backseat passenger was coming up and over the seat to get into the front so to better instruct the driver in the rules of the road. All this was happening with four other passengers in the car including the SCREAMING Grandmother currently occupying the front seat. It was as if the windows were tinted and airbrushed with 'The Scream' as a wrap-around. People will always find things to do in their car to busy themselves; talk, poke, yell, curse, masturbate, drink, smoke, eat, cry, sing, scratch, sniff, clean, spit, stretch, exercise, write and wrong their neighboring drivers. People are multitaskers these days.

My point, and I'll make it so I can make some phone calls sbefore I get on the road. Is that now that we've freed the hands have we opened up the Devil's Workshop? What's the left hand to be doing getting reacquainted with the right. Will we go back to a stoic world of "Ten and Two" with our hands on the wheel at all times and are eyes fixed forward. Will car to car gunfire be reduced with the advent of better driving? Will the lion lie down with the lamb? Will traffic jams go the way of analog television. Maybe we're on the precipice of a new land of peace and harmony that our FREEways will embody. Right. I see this happening about as much as I see JLo cruising Ventura Blvd looking for Mr Cecil's Ribs. That actually happens once or twice a year, she can never find it and is always on the phone calling for cross streets. I am optomistic though. I intend on making the best of this. At least with one hand free I have one for the steering wheel and the other for sign language.