Xtina playing dirrty?

Stills: Christina Aguilera, “Your Body;” Beyonce, “Party”

I don’t really know how I got sucked into watching Christina Aguilera’s video for “Your Body,” but I did. I understand that it must be hard to reshape your image – being a genie in a bottle isn’t going to cut it anymore – but is imitation really the highest form of flattery, or is it just imitation?

It immediately reminded me of Beyonce’s “Party” video with its trailer trash motif, and it’s also reminiscent of Lady Gaga’s “Eh, Eh” video with its vintage pink haze and array of wigs.

And speaking of Beyonce and Lady Gaga, the whole plot of the video is killing men – sounds like “Telephone.” Basically the whole thing is bits and pieces of been-there-done-that. Christina, remind people that you can out-sing everyone on the radio right now, and stop trying to out-sex Beyonce and out-weird Lady Gaga. You won’t win at that.

*Side note: I apologize to Christina for suggesting that she wasn’t actually supposed to be in the new Pitbull song, “Feel This Moment,” (JK I don’t apologize, that was funny). But she is in it and it’s GOOD…mostly only because I lurve A-Ha.

Lincoln Swift and Bieber Park: A partial AMAs recap

First, don’t try to figure out that title. It’s an inside joke…with myself.

I missed the majority of the AMAs – and by “missed” I mean wasn’t interested in watching – but I did flip to the channel in time to catch a few key performances. I witnessed Taylor Swift trying to be sexy during her performance of her new pop dance song, which shows the world that she can whine in a number of different genres. Then Lincoln Park came on and I changed the channel because they’ve sucked since I was in fifth grade. And to complete the trifecta of musicians I hate, Pink was next in line.

That man is not light.

I can’t say for sure what Pink has been doing in her spare time, but I’m fairly certain she’s training for Cirque du Soleil. Her multi-colored paint interpretive dance with the Incredible Hulk was both odd and incredibly impressive especially since she simultaneously belted out her terrible song that I can’t even remember right now. Despite awful taste in her own music, I have to award Pink performance of the night (out of the ones I saw) for actually showing some talent – even if it was better suited for the circus than the AMAs.

Then post-Selena Justin Bieber dusted off his broken heart and rocked out in his leather wife beater. He air grinded with Nicki Minaj on stage, and went on to win the whole show. Good for you, Biebs, you’re the cutest little tool out there.

And then when the producers were sure that all the little girls and boys were tucked in bed while visions of J-Beibs danced in their heads, they uncaged the rabid pop stars.

This makes so much sense

Christina Aguilera came out full auto-tune and full Wonder woman costume, but she wasn’t there to sing. She was there to be the ring leader of her own personal freak show. There was a little house, there was confetti, there were people with bags over their heads, there were drag queens and female body builders and a fat Black woman who did a split (oh my). Was there a song? I don’t know. Was there dancing? Maybe? Were there pants? No because female singers have all signed a pact to only wear leotards on stage.

I thought Xtina’s sideshow was bad enough (and definitely could have benefited from Pink’s acrobatics), but Swizz Beatz said “I see your trannies, and I raise you one Chris Brown tripping on acid.” He wins.

The “performance” of Swizz Beatz, Chris Brown and Ludacris was like witnessing a psychotic episode. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it was. Dancing waitresses jumped around to a frantic beat/siren while Chris Brown ripped off his shirt and unhinged his limbs like a maniac. Swizz Beatz and Ludacris rapped something about it being your birthday. It was a display of screaming and gyrating that I could have done without.

Luckily my boy Pitbull was there to break up these two hot messes with an awesome sampling of A-Ha’s “Take on Me” that featured a second-long Christina Aguilera cameo – leading me to believe that she wasn’t actually supposed to be in the song, but just stumbled on stage.

Get out of here, Christina. We’ve already seen your butt cape.

Being the American Music Awards, of course the night ended with a good Korean joke. I don’t want to be a Debbie Downer, but we’ve had non-stop natural disasters for the past two years, Twinkies have been laid to rest and there is a small Korean man brain washing the masses to gallop like a horse. The world is most definitely ending.

For some reason I was already getting a scary Apocalyptic feeling from the bizarre Gangam Style/Too Legit to Quit mash-up performance even before the song ended with Mr. Gangam and MC Hammer standing over the backup dancers playing dead on the stage floor. Creeped me out. Sure it was kind of cool, but I will be listening to Whitney Houston songs on repeat on my headphones starting December 20th. If we are all doomed, I’m not interested in the last sound I ever hear being Gangam Style.

It’s the end of days.

Hey, sexy lady.

September is stupid

It’s the last day of August, which means the last day of summer. I know it’s not officially fall yet, but everyone knows September means fall. I’m not ready to put away my white pants!

Anyway, in honor of the last day of summer (depressing), enjoy:

And Pitbull’s remix: Ai Se Eu Te Pego

Mr. 907

This baby looks like he’s jammed out to “Mr. Bojangles” more than once in his 8 months of living.

Yesterday the Internet exiled my friend Pitbull to a Walmart in Kodiak, Alaska. A comedian thought it would be funny and ironic to use an online contest to send him to a remote island where the people are obviously too busy gutting fish to know about popular music. Offensive. Just because the people there live inside ice does not mean that they can’t appreciate a little Cuban rap. Pitbull gladly traveled to the frozen tundra and embraced his Eskimo fans because, unlike David Thorpe, he can probably appreciate how rich in pop culture Alaska really is.

For example, Jewel is Alaskan and Holly Madison spent her pre-pubescent years in Alaska. We also have Alaska to thank for comedies like “The Proposal,” Cuba Gooding Jr.’s claim to fame, “Snow Dogs,” and SNL parodies of Sarah Palin.

So, I’m not surprised that Pitbull’s time in Alaska was a success. I am, however, surprised that they have a Walmart. I thought all home goods in Alaska were hand-crafted by Inuits.

Note: this post is not meant to offend any Alaskans – not that they even have the Internet anyway. (Just kiddinggggg)

Can I skip Christmas?

Call me a Deb if you want, but I’m just not ready for Christmas this year (I live in denial of the passing of time). I haven’t bought a single Christmas present nor do I really want to, and I don’t really want anything from anyone else (except maybe flat black boots). So I proposed a solution to my family: let’s go away to somewhere really random for Christmas and just skip the whole present thing. They were all in agreement until we realized that apparently other people have this idea too, which means flights are ridic. So since I can’t go to any of my chosen destinations, I decided to pretend:

Choice #1: Savannah to hang out at Paula Deen's restaurant and eat butter. She IS a lady.

Choice #2: Charleston to gaze at palm trees and pretend that I'm in The Notebook and Ry Guy will see me through the window of a restaurant.

Choice #3: Santa Fe to wear ponchos and buy turquoise jewelry.

Choice #4: New Orleans to hang out with the Cajuns and eat Zatarans.

Choice #none: Instead I have to settle for a snowy misery in the tri-state area.

At least Alyssa and I can still keep the dream of NYE in MIA alive.

Hey, Armando. Long time no see ;)

I saw red before you did

Last summer I went to the frying Pan in NYC and I saw a blond in a red dress and thought she looked great. I had never really given red a try but the girl kind of looked like me so I thought, “I can look that hot too.” That’s when my desire for a red dress began. The hunt intensified this summer when I became absolutely determined. Then in July I saw a single red tube dress hanging up in Forever 21. I didn’t really have anywhere to wear it to, but I bought it because I had finally found a red dress – and it was only $17! Luckily it turned out to be perfect for the Pitbull concert I went to in August – and probably the reason I met him (Just kidding…kind of).

Anyway, ever since then red is everywhere! Red dresses, shirts, pants – you can’t walk into a store without seeing red. And it all culminated in a big red wad of evening gowns at last night’s Emmy Awards where 75% of the women matched the carpet. So am I a psychic trend setter? Pretty much.

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I knew it would happen!

So Friday I said I would be partying it up with Pitbull, and I bet you didn’t believe me. Well believe it. Through a string of extremely fortunate events, two of my ladies and I ended up in an intimate gathering with Mr. Worldwide (I like to call him Armando now that we’re bffs) and Marc Anthony in their hotel suite.

- Hanging with Pitbull in his suite at Foxwoods...standard night -

Here’s how it happened: Eight of us ladies decided that we should definitely go to the Pitbull concert mostly because it would be fun and outrageous but also because the tickets were only $20. So we were hanging out in our room before the concert talking about how we saw James Woods in line at Panera and one lady decided to make friends with the randos next door. Then we went off to the concert, which was awesome – surprise guest was Marc Anthony.

After that we obvi. had to go back to the room and drink before going to Shrine because who wants to buy a $12 vodka soda when you have a perfectly good bottle of Barefoot pinot in the room? Anyway, to our surprise, not only did we find a wheel chair in the hallway (jackpot) but our new friends, Lonesome George and Normal-sized Waye, from next door had won $10,000 at the casino and stuck this note onto our door with gum (classy):

Okay, deal; we’ll meet you at your $600 VIP table, no problem. We weren’t there for more than 10 minutes when Pitbull, Marc Anthony and their crew walk in. We all got to hug them and shake hands etc. and then they basically turned around and left. Being the scrappy ladies that we are, three of us had moved over to the balcony to get closer to the celebs watch everyone dancing downstairs. One of my ladies caught some man’s attention and all of the sudden we were being led through the kitchen and back to the service elevator with some chicks from Paramus and a Ukranian woman. The first elevator was too full so we had to wait for a second one, but as the doors closed we saw Pitbull and Marc.

The rest is kind of a blur. First we were in one room, then we were in a new room with glasses of Grey Goose (not on the rocks) in our hands. Then we were in a living room getting offered beer from a bar tender and listening to Pitbull’s iPod.

I was starstruck for a few minutes, but then everyone was so nice and the party was so laid-back that we just started owning the place. I helped Pitbull DJ the party.

“Um, I don’t like this one, Pitbull.”

“Okay, well how about this song? You’ll like it, it’s straight from Cuba.”

P.S. in case you were wondering, Pitbull listens to normal music. He put on “Mr. Saxobeat,” and “Take Over Control” and some of his own songs (are they under “me” in his iPod?). Also in case you were wondering, he does have eyes behind his sunglasses.

We danced with their crew and my lady schmoozed it with Marc Anthoy’s brother and nephew/cousin (exact relationship is unclear due to aforementioned Grey Goose). We also got invited to the MTV VMAs next weekend. We’re supposed to get our tickets by emailing some sketchy address…haven’t heard back about that one yet. But I’m on a lucky streak so who knows!

Then to be honest, we really just wanted to go back to the club so we gave our buddy, Pitbull, a hug and a kiss on the cheek and he told us he was so happy we came and we left to find our other five ladies who were fuming because we ditched them. But we weren’t allowed to answer our phones in the secret party!

Meanwhile, our friends, Lady S and Lady B, had been wandering the casino trying to find the Pitbull party and they wound up in the security office, and then they crashed an all-Black wedding and tried to say they were third cousins of the bride. Nice try, girls. Then they met Jenna Marbles and she gave them attitude.

The night ended with some pizza with Pitbull’s opening act – I don’t remember his name but he wasn’t at the after party so I am obviously more famous than he is.

Moral of the story: I meet celebrities, always.