Hello loyal readers. I apologize for my absence in the last week or so. I feel foolish for having things like career and friends get in the way of quality time with the dumb things I truly adore. Lucky for me and anyone else who cares enough to read this blog, inspiration came quickly in the form of a PowerBar commercial starring none other than long time LA Lakers' headcase and newly minted reality star, Lamar Odom.
This got me thinking, 2 years ago, would the Los Angeles' third best player been on a national advertising campaign for an established brand? Would I have seen this commercial while watching network TV in New York City? The answer to both of these questions is invariably no.
So, what changed in the last 2 years? The first and most obvious thing; The Lakers won the championship. And Kobe certainly benefited, as the alpha dog on all championship teams is known to do. But one championship run in basketball doesn't create marketable players overnight. If that were so, I would want to buy some eurotrash suits and Spanish lessons from Pau Gasol, like immediately. The second thing, also obvious, is that Mr. Odom has recently taken a Mrs. Odom, none other than the fat Kardashian sister. (Seriously, I saw her ad for PETA and it reminded me of those wooden cutouts of cartoon ripped bodies that you would pose behind and then have some formerly homeless, currently toothless guy on the boardwalk charge you five dollars for a picture. You're not fooling anybody broadie).
So if it wasn't thing one that launched Mr. Odom's new found fame and marketability, it was most definitely thing two. And just going off the fact that the commercial I just saw exists, I would say this marriage has accomplished its goal.
What Odom has actually accomplished is absolutely brilliant. Before he married the ugly stepsister, he was unappreciated, even in NBA circles. When he won a title and his life remained the same, I'm guessing he realized that he had gone as far as his talent would take him and decided to do something drastic. So, like an actress who's got the looks but not the talent, it was time to shed his dignity (Note to Greg Oden: Notice I didn't say shed clothing. And while we're at it, can we add letters to NSFW designations so I would know whether I not I want to click? NSFWLT (lesbian threesome): Yes. NSFWSEP (semi-erect penis): Not so much.) And so, in exchange for his self respect and any semblance of the sanctity of marriage, Lamar Odom is now the most likable person on an extremely popular reality show. On his basketball team, he'll always be behind at least Kobe in terms of attention and respect. On Keeping Up with the Kardashians, his only competition are 3 completely shallow sisters and their mother, a seemingly demented former Olympic champion who now begs his wife for money to buy model airplane parts, and a transparent womanizer who managed to impregnate one of the more attractive sisters. Is it possible to screw this gig up?
But, what sticks with me the most, is how we've reacted to such an obvious sham marriage. When Michael Jackson (RIP thriller) married and publicly sucked face with Lisa Marie Presley everyone mocked him mercilessly. Now, we're presented with two people getting married on a reality television show and told in advance that the wedding isn't legally binding and we don't blink an eye. Granted, nowadays we have more important things to which we need to pay attention (Naked pictures of Snooki, I'm looking in your direction. And now I'm not looking at anything. Because I've permanently seared my retinas.), but we've really learned to look the other way on the fake marriage stuff. And Lamar played our apathy perfectly. He figured that when the root of a show's popularity was a sex tape, people wouldn't mind too much if he staged a fake marriage for our entertainment. Seriously, Tiger should hire Lamar to produce his apology press conference tomorrow. There's a man who knows how to get exactly what he wants from America. (Even if that thing is an endorsement deal for a product that is suspiciously reminiscent of two nuts in a sack: http://www.insideoutsports.com/productimages/Powerbar%20Gel%20Blasts.jpg).
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Slade: My New Role Model
Adieu, Jersey Shore. Or should I say, arrivederci. Fuck it, you wouldn't understand what I was talking about either way. You may have left and broken my heart, but I've moved on, at least for now. The object of my attention is new and shiny to me, even though it may be old news to a lot of you out there. To those who didn't pick up on the Slade reference in the title, I'm talking about The Real Housewives of Orange County.
Now, before the guys out there start questioning my sexuality, please, watch the show. The adventures of big-breasted fish face, botox bandit, other blond chick, wrinkly one that always talks about her job, and the hot chick (Gretchen, she gets a name) are high entertainment. I clearly still am having problems figuring out which one is which, but that doesn't make the show any less enjoyable.
First, at any given time, three of the five housewives are clearly whacked out on a combination of painkillers, white wine, and stripper perfume. (It's weird, but I can look and these women and literally smell the strawberry champagne lotion wafting from the inner thigh of an overripe dancer who got grandfathered into working the B squad at Scores.) Second, they fight literally all the time. And there's nothing like women who are past their physical prime and have substituted expensive clothes that their husbands gave to them for any semblance of wisdom get self-righteous. It's like self-esteem that comes out of a remote.
But at the end of the day, if you're a straight male, the reason to watch is undoubtedly Slade. Yes, Gretchen is hot. But there are hot women in far more enticing states of undress available at pornhub. Which is where I suggest you venture when you're done here. You might as well follow up some solid mental masturbation with the real thing. For those who don't know, Slade is the guy who is currently having sex with Gretchen, who looks exactly like a Barbie doll brought to life and given bigger implants. Before this (and before my time testing the limits of plausible heterosexuality with Real Housewives) he was with Jo, another housewife who was the hottest on the show during her tenure. In between these two, he starred with the former on a show called Date My Ex, where his ex-girlfriend got him even more top notch ass.
If you haven't given up reading this yet, you might be asking, who is this Slade character? I'd give you an answer, but thus is the beauty of this elusive man-beast. Even though I wanted to do research and write an article about him and even though he's been on TV for over 4 years there's next to nothing about him online. Compare him with the cast of Real Housewives of Atlanta (another winner of a show... and in this case I can actually taste the stripper lotion); their Wikipedia page is like a freecreditreport.com page, I can tell who's being evicted and who's just in foreclosure. Slade is a smiling, bearded question mark who gets to stick his dick in the hottest thing in a 50 yard radius.
Proof? Slade ostensibly sells title insurance, but when questioned in tonight's episode, Gretchen couldn't confirm that he even received a paycheck of any kind. In fact, she hired him to "manage" the money that she got when she married a dying guy in an earlier season (all class, all the time). In comparison to every other guy on the show who essentially bought their "trophy," Slade just shows up and gets it in.
There's a lot to learn here. First, the illusion of money is just as good as money. He may be a good looking dude (uh-oh the show is taking hold), but he never could have gotten in the door with these women without a cool sounding job, like vice president at a title insurance company even though it apparently doesn't come with a paycheck. Second, smile a lot and never get angry. Every other dude on the show tries to control their wife and every one of them gets less sex from an uglier broad than Slade.
Slade, if I could kill you and wear your face as a mask, I would. But, since that sounds messy and I'd probably get caught, please just keep showing up to work every day. Teach us to be more than clamsmen. Teach us to be mimbos.
Now, before the guys out there start questioning my sexuality, please, watch the show. The adventures of big-breasted fish face, botox bandit, other blond chick, wrinkly one that always talks about her job, and the hot chick (Gretchen, she gets a name) are high entertainment. I clearly still am having problems figuring out which one is which, but that doesn't make the show any less enjoyable.
First, at any given time, three of the five housewives are clearly whacked out on a combination of painkillers, white wine, and stripper perfume. (It's weird, but I can look and these women and literally smell the strawberry champagne lotion wafting from the inner thigh of an overripe dancer who got grandfathered into working the B squad at Scores.) Second, they fight literally all the time. And there's nothing like women who are past their physical prime and have substituted expensive clothes that their husbands gave to them for any semblance of wisdom get self-righteous. It's like self-esteem that comes out of a remote.
But at the end of the day, if you're a straight male, the reason to watch is undoubtedly Slade. Yes, Gretchen is hot. But there are hot women in far more enticing states of undress available at pornhub. Which is where I suggest you venture when you're done here. You might as well follow up some solid mental masturbation with the real thing. For those who don't know, Slade is the guy who is currently having sex with Gretchen, who looks exactly like a Barbie doll brought to life and given bigger implants. Before this (and before my time testing the limits of plausible heterosexuality with Real Housewives) he was with Jo, another housewife who was the hottest on the show during her tenure. In between these two, he starred with the former on a show called Date My Ex, where his ex-girlfriend got him even more top notch ass.
If you haven't given up reading this yet, you might be asking, who is this Slade character? I'd give you an answer, but thus is the beauty of this elusive man-beast. Even though I wanted to do research and write an article about him and even though he's been on TV for over 4 years there's next to nothing about him online. Compare him with the cast of Real Housewives of Atlanta (another winner of a show... and in this case I can actually taste the stripper lotion); their Wikipedia page is like a freecreditreport.com page, I can tell who's being evicted and who's just in foreclosure. Slade is a smiling, bearded question mark who gets to stick his dick in the hottest thing in a 50 yard radius.
Proof? Slade ostensibly sells title insurance, but when questioned in tonight's episode, Gretchen couldn't confirm that he even received a paycheck of any kind. In fact, she hired him to "manage" the money that she got when she married a dying guy in an earlier season (all class, all the time). In comparison to every other guy on the show who essentially bought their "trophy," Slade just shows up and gets it in.
There's a lot to learn here. First, the illusion of money is just as good as money. He may be a good looking dude (uh-oh the show is taking hold), but he never could have gotten in the door with these women without a cool sounding job, like vice president at a title insurance company even though it apparently doesn't come with a paycheck. Second, smile a lot and never get angry. Every other dude on the show tries to control their wife and every one of them gets less sex from an uglier broad than Slade.
Slade, if I could kill you and wear your face as a mask, I would. But, since that sounds messy and I'd probably get caught, please just keep showing up to work every day. Teach us to be more than clamsmen. Teach us to be mimbos.
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