Michael Jackson, Resurrected

Well my fellow reptiles, the Wacko Jacko Clan has done it again! And by that I mean generating more press (and thusly more dollars) by waving Michael’s shriveled corpse in front of a camera.

Four years ago Michael Jackson died of a drug cocktail consisting of propofol (a pre-anasthetic) and bennies (a.k.a. antidepressants- lorazepam). Now I avoid daytime TV like the fucking plague but on The Talk, panelists Sharon Osbourne and Sara Gilbert made a pair of realistic comments on the Jackson Clan taking li’l MJ’s GP Dr. Conrad Murray (serving a 4 year prison sentence) to court  for $40 billion dollars. Now both women come from celebrity backgrounds- Sara acting, Sharon metal- where drugs are simply part of the entertainment culture, so they have direct experience with drug use and/or those who use. A combination of inspiration, arrogance, privilege, boredom, and stress has invited the uses of pharmaceuticals as quick fixes. Gilbert was bombarded with Twats from rabid MJ fanfucks screaming their umbrage over their black-turned-white-quasi-Peter Pan idol, and today she backpedaled.

Way to go Darlene.

Why don’t we step into the Wayback Machine and zip back to 27 January 1984. Wacko Jacko was filming a Pepsi commercial in front of fans when a pyrotechnical effect misfired causing Mikey’s scalp and face to catch fire. Suffering 2nd degree burns he was scarred and had permanent nerve damage, not to mention the trauma of the injury. It was either at this time or his two previous nose jobs that Mike began his addiction to painkillers that opened the doors to other prescription drug abuse. Remember coke, weed, meth, and smack, the accepted drugs that stars abuse that turn up in red-topped newspapers aren’t the only ones. Judy Garland and Elvis were total pill freaks, enabled by family, friends, doctors, agents, and producers alike. You think Mikey was any different?

It’s a fact that the last two Jacksons that were solvent were Janet and Michael until the 1993 sex abuse allegations. Michael was more than likely financially supporting his siblings’ lifestyles. But the millions he raked in sales after his death was taken by record companies and creditors with little to spare even for his mother and kids who were handsomely provided for in his will leaving the bulk of his fortune to his charities. This, of course, didn’t sit well with those who expected a big payout, so they held up little brother’s burial for 10 days forcing for his estate to pay for not only MJ’s tomb in Hollywood Forever Cemetery’s private mausoleum, but for ALL THOSE JEHOVAH WITNESS ASSHOLES’ WALL PLOTS! And adding insult to injury, they forced the LAPD to provide a motorcade for the the Staples Center memorial that displayed an empty gold plated casket, but it was a time when the police department was suffering motherfucking cutbacks!

So what can we take from all this? A failed reality show, a ridiculous musical (that only ran in London’s West End), and a Dumb and Dumber kidnapping of Katherine and the kids couldn’t keep these big-headed assfucks afloat, now they have to resort to the talk show circuit and Court TV to kick a dying horse for sympathy and money. People, Dr. Conrad Murray is just one of thousands of Hollywood’s Dr. Feel Goods. If he didn’t procure for Mikey, someone else would have (and we all know that despite an agency “contracting” him on paper under shitpiles of legalese it was really Michael). And MJ had an entourage that wanted to stay in his good graces to get a piece of the action, Murray liked the money addicted starts gave him, and if anybody said “no” they were ignored, threatened, or removed.

Welcome to La-La land people. Careful what you wish for, you just might get it.

Sephora, surprisingly ghetto

I am not ashamed to say that I like Sephora, I’m just ashamed that I have patronized its stores. There are two main hubs in NYC, across the street from Herald Square’s Macy’s (and one door up from Old Navy) and on Union Square (on the same block as Barnes & Noble’s).

It really is for the SATC wannabes and their gays, but I will say the Union Square Sephora doesn’t blast their Euro-techno-rave-dance-pop epic fail bullfuck (unlike Aerosoles- OMG WTF!). I am a red lipstick addict and had have been on the safari (of “Dr. Livingston, I presume?” epic proportions) for the perfect shade for years.

1) Graftobian- red (Their red glitter is cool too.)

2) Maybelline Color Sensational– Red Revival and Very Cherry

3) Kat Von D Painted Love lipstick– Hellbent, Underage Red, and limited edition Adora (I used to get this shade of red back in high school in the 99 cent stores and Rite Aid. How far we have fallen.)

4) Too Faced Lip of Luxury– Runway Red and Drop Dead Red

5) DuWop– Private Red (doesn’t change shade for shit, and yes Smeyer has her Twifuck makeup line with these asshats)

And BIG surprise (for some one who assiduously avoided lip glosses from their 90s hype like the motherfucking plague):

6) Buxom Big and Healthy lip gloss and full-color polish- Trixie, Betsy, Vanessa, Charity, Ginger, Betty, and Roxanne.  And they all do Barcelona. (And, no, they really don’t plump up your lips. But it will be nice and tingly and no stickiness or tack.)

7) Fresh– Sugar Shag (I also love their Sake and Cannabis Santal fragrances, but get Bvlgari Blv Pour Homme on Amazon.)

Now my beef is with the fucking customers. You’d think with these predominantly skinny white girls running around like chickenheads the moment Lee Byung-hun walks into a room ready to line up, they’d be a little bit more… I don’t know… HYGIENIC with the fucking testers! It’s a goddamn wreck at the Herald Square Sephora (only a tenth or two better at Union Square) and I haven’t gone back from my first visit two months ago. It looks the same way that Duane Reade on Fulton Street Brooklyn before the chain’s mass renovations! I mean these goddamn bitches put the damn tester makeup on! I don’t want to sound paranoid, but Mom always taught me to just swipe the shit on the back of my hand to see if it went with my skin then wipe it off with a tissue. And I do that! Do you know the kinds of bacteria makeup contains? Do you have your fat heads up SPJ’s ass not to know this? I mean motherfucking seriously!

Well Mom likes Trixie and Sugar Fairy and wants a couple of tubes, so I’m going to the Fresh and Bare Escentuals stores in the city. But I don’t have high hopes for cleanliness.

Stay tuned for my next update in my adventures with eye shadow! In all of my makeup wearing years (’round 16) this four-eyed geek has never wore eye makeup. Well, Too Faced was just too hard to resist so I purchased Lash Gasm in black, Lava Gloss liner in Super Gloss Black, Duo Shadows in Lucky Charms and Shamrock Chic, and an eye shadow Blender Brush. Because you have to dress up enough to get all smartassy when they’re giving you the secret personality test during a job interview.

If Foamy was POTUS, the world would be a lot more livelier. You know it's true you fat bastards.

Love of loosies…

Ah the loosie, a teenager’s BFF and only 50 cents. I don’t want to sound self-righteous (even though I dogged Eddie Cahill for smoking) but smoking does suck… and yet I just finished a Camel Light (I really should have gotten an Ultra Light).

I hadn’t had a smoke in 3 years (Capris suck fucking ass but Camel flavors were pretty good) and before that was high school. I was one of the 50% of the population in my wannabe basement school that was a fan of Newports (Light Menthol). Bugs Bunny, Bogie, and peer pressure be goddamned because nobody– and I mean no-fucking-body in my damn school offered my ass a smoke. I had to go out and spend my $7 dollars! And the shit is nasty as fuck. The only reason why I even started was to lose weight. Nicotine is a stimulant that kills hunger pangs! You can only do so much caffeine in a day, and I can’t afford to waste my (sugar free) Red Bull (my true favorite is the lo-carb Arizona Energy). And even then it didn’t work, and that’s why I only smoked on and off for a couple of years.

But sometimes you need a nic fix so I hit up the ol’ bodega and sure enough loosies were still 50 cents. These damned anti-smoking advocacy groups must be smoking some kind of lo jack because they insist that the reason why kids smoke is because of media and ads. I call bullshit! My father was an occasional smoker (Marlboro Ultra Lights and pipes- he looked like such an old fart with the corncob one), my late Godmother and her mother (Parliaments), her father (cigars- YUCK!), my late great uncles (Marlboro and Camel), and all the Quebecois relatives (filterless French imports) were smokers. Half the moms in my elementary school were smokers (Kools were popular back in the mid-80s amongst the ladies). But I tell you, they’re the real reason as to why teens smoke, they want to imitate and escape. Look grown-up and cool. Need a legal fix? Have a cigarette and a beer. Their parents do it all the time.

Oh yeah and I was especially pissed when Bloomie outlawed the flavored Camels. I tried the coffee one, and it did have a pleasant taste- at first-  but ultimately it just masked the nastiness. He only did it to bow down to Philip Morris, RJ Reynolds main competitor. Kids won’t be drawn in by the candy flavoring, fuckwits. Chances are they were already smoking Camels, or whatever their usual brand is.

But don’t worry, you can go back to reading Twilight and live in your dream world where there’s a west coast of Brazil. Meanwhile I’m seriously looking into Power Pops, Fatgirlslim, and Blu. My fat ass can’t afford denial anymore.

P.S. Stay tuned for my review of Smeyer’s Relapse novella rehash, The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner. I just DLed it off 4shared and got a big kick from the little introduction. How could anybody believe the bitch had it edited? Ladies and gentlemen, for your consideration:


No two writers go about things in exactly the same way (Yes bitch, we research and keep our cultish views to ourselves). We all
are inspired and motivated in different ways (A rich terrestrial goddess); we have our own reasons why some characters stay with us (You’re Bella, and your fantasy lover is Edward and they’ve never left you and never will) while others disappear into a backlog of neglected files. Personally, I’ve
never figured out why some of my characters take on strong
lives of their own (Lusting for the Celestial Kingdom doesn’t count sweetie), but I’m always happy when they do. Those characters are the most effortless to write (That is a disrespect to real writers), and so their stories are usually the ones that get finished (So you can buy a real diamond tiara like Tammy Faye Baker).
Bree is one of those characters, and she’s the chief reason
why this story is now in your hands, rather than lost in the maze
of forgotten folders inside my computer. (The two other reasons
are named Diego and Fred.) [Cats or kids?] I started thinking about Bree while I was editing Eclipse. Editing, not writing—when I was writing
the first draft of Eclipse (Regardless of how many times you repeat yourself we still don’t believe you), I had first-person-perspective blinders on; anything that Bella couldn’t see or hear or feel or taste or touch was irrelevant (Just like research and other people’s opinions). That story was her experience only.
The next step in the editing process was to step away from Bella and see how the story flowed. My editor, Rebecca Davis, was a huge part of that process, and she had a lot of questions for me about the things Bella didn’t know and how we could make the right parts of that story clearer (I bet she attempted suicide many times over this job). Because Bree is the only newborn Bella sees, Bree’s was the perspective that I first gravitated toward as I considered what was going on behind the scenes. I started thinking about living in the basement with the newborns and hunting traditional vampire-style. I imagined the world as Bree understood it. And it was easy to do that.
From the start Bree was very clear as a character, and some of her friends also sprang to life effortlessly. This is the way it usually works for me: I try to write a short synopsis of what is happening in some other part of the story, and I end up jotting down dialogue. In this case, instead of a synopsis, I found myself writing a day in Bree’s life. Writing Bree was the first time I’d stepped into the shoes of a narrator who was a “real” vampire—a hunter, a monster.
I got to look through her red eyes at us humans; suddenly we were pathetic and weak, easy prey, of no importance whatsoever except as a tasty snack. (Just like your days as a missionary?) I felt what it was like to be alone while
surrounded by enemies, always on guard, never sure of anything except that her life was always in danger. I got to submerge myself in a totally different breed of vampires: newborns. The newborn life was something I hadn’t ever gotten to explore—even when Bella finally became a vampire. Bella was never a newborn like Bree was a newborn. It was exciting and dark and, ultimately, tragic. The closer I got to the inevitable end, the more I wished I’d concluded Eclipse just slightly differently.
I wonder how you will feel about Bree. She’s such a small, seemingly trivial character in Eclipse. She lives for only five minutes of Bella’s perspective. And yet her story is so important to an understanding of the novel. When you read the Eclipse scene in which Bella stares at Bree, assessing her as a
possible future, did you ever think about what has brought Bree to that point in time? As Bree glares back, did you wonder what Bella and the Cullens look like to her? Probably not. But even if you did, I’ll bet you never guessed her secrets. I hope you end up caring about Bree as much as I do (You’ve just contradicted yourself there. You don’t seem to care about her much two paragraphs ago!), though that’s kind of a cruel wish. You know this: it doesn’t end well for her (Anybody who is a threat to you/Bella deserves suffering and death, right?). But at least you will know the whole story. And that no perspective is ever really trivial (Because they have to agree with yours in order to do that).
Oh yeah, any fellow Italy fans for 2010 World Cup? 1-1 from their Paraguay match! Let’s go defending champs! AZURRI! AZURRI!