I Wanna Be a Billionaire
I've been slacking on the blogging lately. What can I say? First I came down with a case of World Cup Fever. Waking up at 5am to be at the bar by 7am to cheer on your team, and more importantly jeer the opposing one, takes a toll on you. After that I was busy being "Tío Ando" to my 4 nieces and earning my status as #1 World's Greatest Uncle. When you spend 11 full days taking the teenager to get her first manicure, playing Wii Batman & Robin with the 8 year old, teaching the 3 year old to say words like "fierce" and "trifling", and making up songs for the 4 month old that included me calling her a cross-eyed monkey baby, you don't have much time for anything else.
Mostly though I've come down with a severe case of summer Idon'tgiveafuckitis. Every year around the time the days get longer, the nights hotter and your lunch break errand time doubles because of all the teenagers shenanigating in your way slowing you down, I tend to get this attitude of "Oh fuck everything." I blame the fact that adults don't get summer vacation. I want to have 3 months off to do nothing but chillax, bump the latest summer anthems from my car while driving to the beach to work on my tan. Or even better, I'd like to win the lottery so that I can have the time and money to do those things year round.
Just like Travie McCoy sings in his new single, I, too, want to be a Billionaire so freakin' bad and buy all of the things I never had. On top of the shopping sprees, the amazing brownstone overlooking Central Park, and traveling the world and brunching in a different city every day, I also have a few things that I'd do with my money that may seem a little out of the ordinary to some.
First of all, I'd hire a personal trainer to get me into the best shape possible. Not just any ol' personal trainer you could get at a gym. No, I want to hire choreographer, LaurieAnn Gibson, from Making the Band 3 fame. LaurieAnn has choreographed the movie Honey and Lady Gaga's recent video hits Paparazzi, LoveGame, Bad Romance, Telephone and Alejandro. Throughout the seasons leading up to the formation of Danity Kane, LaurieAnn trained and worked the girls into lean, mean, synchronized dancing machines. I want to hire LaurieAnn to teach me to dance as if I were a contestant on Making the Band 3. I want her to mold my body and make me worthy of being the next member of Danity Kane, assuming the band were still together and took men. I want her to yell "boom, boom, kack" at me while I learn the latest hip thrust and booty pops. I'd also like cameras there so that I can look into them and give my "confessional" about how hard I've been working on learning the dance moves and how badly I want to be in the band. They don't actually have to record me, I'd just like a camera there to talk into.
The second thing I'd do if I were a billionaire is become Batman. Well no, not the actual Batman, that's been done. I'd be a hotter, skankier version of a crime-fighting vigilante. (Think a manly Catwoman.) I'd travel the world to brunch and learn mad ninja skills which would aid me in my fight against crime. Being a billionaire would ensure that I have enough money for all of the latest crime fighting gadgets and outfits that'd be housed in a secret room in my New York City brownstone. I'd kick some serious ass with the style and fierceness of Scarlett Johansson in Ironman 2. And I'd ride around fighting crime on a motorcycle.
'Cause every self-respecting, leather clad, sexy crime-fighting billionaire should have a motorcycle.
Eclipse – The Gay Vampire Movie
I'd mentally prepared myself for it this time. I had a game plan and was sticking to it. I went up to the ticket counter and asked for "one for the gay vampire movie". (I actually asked for it that way. I have witnesses.) I'd read the first book, saw the first movie and hated them both. I attempted to read the second book, listen to the audio version and just gave up. I'd seen New Moon two weeks prior and spent the majority of the time checking on my friends' Facebook statuses or playing with my niece. This night I walked in to the theater with a water bottle carrying tequila and was going to have a good time watching the latest Twilight installment, "Eclipse". I'd gone in with the mindset of "I'm solely going to judge and have a good time doing it."
4 shots of Patron Silver couldn't make that movie interesting for me. The movie was a new form of terrible - it was turrible.
I would like my money back. No, for real. I want my $9. I don't want them from the movie theater, studio execs or the cast. I want my $9 to come from the person who was responsible for the horrible choice in wigs for the movie. Come on. The Twilight movies have made damn near a babillion dollars and you couldn't spring for a better wig for Bella? I get that Kristen Stewart chopped all her hair off to film "The Runaways" with Dakota Fanning so that film could go and make $16.75 but you could have done a better job of choosing a wig for her. Why didn't you talk to anyone involved with the making of Chris Rock's "Good Hair"? They could've helped you out. That hairline of hers wasn't the slightest bit believable and I couldn't help but stare at it the entire film. I'd sooner believe that a gay vampire, a 'roided up werewolf and a portion of the Forks high school male population were fighting over her pasty-white emo ass than that that was her natural hair. Bella and her horrible wig spent the entire movie just like the previous two installments. Mopey faced, crying about how much she loves Edward and how her entire existence was solely to pine over his melanin-deprived bony ass. Alright already. We get it.
The only part where I was remotely interested in the movie was when Edward and Jacob are in the tent talking to each other while Bella is sleeping. I thought the movie makers were going to throw in a twist and we'd be watching some Brokeback Mountain action go down but alas, all they did was talk about how they loved Ms. I'm-incapable-of-smiling-like-a-human-being-even-in-real-life.
Several people have told me that I should focus on Taylor Lautner and his chiseled abs to help get me through the movie. (Now that he's of legal age I can feel free to comment on his body. Justin Bieber, I'll talk to you on March 1, 2012) Yes, Taylor Lautner makes me want to go old-school and wash my laundry by hand - on his abs but, that caveman face of his just ruins it for me. Granted, he seems to have grown into his forehead a bit since he filmed New Moon but he hasn't fully lost that cro-magnon look about him. Yes, his abs are to die for and I'd gladly lick whipped cream off of them given half a chance. But guess what? Without even trying I can name 37 men who competed in the World Cup off whose abs I'd also like to eat various foods. And at least in the World Cup if a referee makes a bad call somebody gets fucked.
More than I can say goes down in Twilight.
World Cup Fever
Anyone who knows me knows that my knowledge of sports is basically "blah blah blah touchdown yadda yadda yadda goal blah blah blah Go Team Go!" I pretty much stopped paying attention to sports after 3rd grade when Kick-Ball was no longer an option during P.E. So it's a surprise to my friends and especially to myself, that I've gotten so wrapped up in the World Cup Fever. I'm finding myself waking up early to watch games on South African time, keeping track of game scores at work, and most importantly checking up on player's bios. The reason I'm paying so close attention to the World Cup this time is that I had never before noticed how hot the players are and how lovely they look running up and down the field in those shorts. It all started because I wanted to watch hot piece of ass and new Armani model, Cristiano Ronaldo in action and noticed that he wasn't the only hottie on the playing field. I couldn't make a decision on which team to root for because I just couldn't keep track of which team had the highest amount of hot guys and thus Aldo's Hottness Scoring System (TM) was created.
The AHS System takes into account each player's "Fuckability Factor" and rates them on a scale of 0-3.
0 - No, thank you.
1 - I wouldn't kick him out of bed.
2 - Yes, please!
3 - I would throw my momma from a moving train to hit that.
Each team's score is then added up and a winner is chosen. Each player is mainly scored on face, thanks to the team lisintgs on the FIFA website. If a score cannot be immediately determined other factors such as height, age and in rare events, Google image searches, are brought in to make a decision. It's a purely subjective scoring system based on my own personal preferences but so far the AHS System is about 70% correct on a game by game basis.
The majority of the players are ranking in 0's and 1's, several 2's, especially in Spain and so far only 2 players have received the ultimate scores of 3's. Cristiano Ronaldo received a 3 because well, God damn have you seen him?
And most importantly Carlos Bocanegra, captain of the US team received a 3.
Carlos Bocanegra received a 3 so quickly that I actually debated opening up the score all the way up to a 5. He is my new boo. Somewhere out there Channing Tatum is sad and can't figure out why.
If a team has a player that scores a 3, then it can throw off the AHS rankings even though the opposing team came in with a higher overall number. Case in point, the England vs. USA game. England came in with an overall AHS score of 15 to USA's 12, however the fact that Carlos Bocanegra is my ideal man threw it off balance and I could not choose who to root for. The game resulted in a tie, thus proving that the AHS system works.
Never before have I been so fully invested in any sporting event. If I'd had a regular Mexican dad I'm sure he'd be beaming with pride right now because his son finally fulfilled his stereotype and was glued to the television watching futbol. My uncles and I would finally have something to talk about that didn't involve the weather or why I'm not married yet. Granted, I wouldn't tell them how exactly I chose who to root for but when it came down to game time, we'd be side by side, screaming and cheering at the TV, listening to the vuvuzuelas and drinking Miller Lite Tallboys with Carlos Bocanegra on the can. We'd all be smiling, myself for a completely different set of reasons.
Olé-olé-olé-oléééé indeed.
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And finally, if anyone finds these Miller Lite cans with my boo on them, I want 4. I'm not kidding.
Share on FacebookOne Gay’s Complaints on Sex & the City 2
By now all the interested parties who wanted to get dressed up to the nines, have a girls' night out drinking cosmos and watch the Sex & the City sequel have already done it so I'm not actually revealing any pivotal plot points in this rant. In order to do that there'd have to be a legitimate plot for me to reveal. Let me start off by saying that I enjoyed the series enough that I own every season on DVD. I can quote lines upon lines of dialogue from the show and before the first movie came out I did want to get dressed up and catch the midnight screening of the movie. But the sequel was just a piece of crap that made no sense at all. I left the theater slightly confused. I wasn't ready to demand a refund but I wasn't sure if I liked it either. After taking a few days to let it marinate I realized what bothered me so much about the movie.
My main issue started off right at the beginning with the big, gay wedding of Stanford Blatch and Anthony Marantino. Really Sex & the City writers? Really?! Ever since they met, Stanford and Anthony hated each other but you had to go and have the two homos in the series end up together in the end. There were no other homosexual men in all of New York City available for them to end up with. None at all? Both Stanford and Anthony went through all of the gays in Manhattan and decided that they were better off together? They scoured every bar, club and coffeehouse in all of Chelsea and came up with nothing else? Come on now, that's just lazy writing.
Granted some of the hottest sex I've ever had has been with people I can't stand but that doesn't mean I want to spend the rest of my life with them. I don't even want to spend the rest night with them. My complaint is that this just further encourages my straight friends to try and hook me up with the first homosexual they meet. "You two would be perfect for each other!" Why? Because we're both gay? How about you give me one thing we have in common besides the fact that we both love penis and then I'll decide if I let you set me up. Now if you're new gay friend is Channing Tatum look-alike then please ignore that previous sentence but in general how about you put in a little effort if you are going to try and set me up? At least half of the Sex & the City writers must have been gay men. Why would they go and perpetuate the myth that just because two people are gay, they're automatically perfect for each other. I don't try and set you up with my newly widowed uncle just because you're both straight and single, do me the same courtesy.
And why was Carrie buying spices?! We all know that bitch doesn't cook.
When I Grow Up
I recently joined a Facebook group called "Everyone I know is getting married or pregnant, I'm just getting drunk". This pretty much sums up my life right now. If I'd followed the path that most of the cousins my age did, by now I'd be married with 4-5 kids or at the very least be working on my 2nd marriage. Instead I'm 29 with no kids and to my knowledge I haven't been legally married. There was one crazy New Year's Eve in Las Vegas but I haven't seen any signed papers so I'm pretty sure the marriage wasn't legally binding.
You'd think that since the countdown to my 30th birthday can now be measured in months rather than years I'd maybe start thinking of settling down, starting a family or at least have more than $4 in my account the day before payday. I've been late to work damn near everyday for almost a year. No one seems to notice other than the people in the cubicles in my immediate vicinity. A more responsible adult would arrive at work on-time even when the boss wasn't watching. Those responsible adults clearly don't know how good the extra 9 minutes of sleep that the snooze button provides are. It's been scientifically proven that those 9 extra minutes of sleep are the best sleep of the entire night so I like to hit the snooze button a good 3-4 times before I get up.
Will there ever be a day when I can listen to the Ying Yang Twins "Wait - The Whisper Song" and not lose my shit? I don't see that happening any time soon. There's just something about the lyrics and ridiculous amount of bass in that song that makes me wanna raise a glass and shake my ass. Grown men singing ... excuse me, whispering to a woman about how their entire existence will change once they see their penis sounds like the most ridiculous concept for a song ever. And granted it is, but there's just something about the power of this song that makes me wanna throw up my hands and do the dance that my friend Magda and I made up for it in college. There's just no stopping the power of that song.
Will I ever stop giggling when I see two boys kiss in public? Doubt it. You'd think that since I've been kissing boys since I was 13, I'd be more of an adult when I saw it out in public instead of giggling like a 2nd grader who just heard his teacher let one rip. The first time I saw this was at Penn Station on my first night in NYC. After I stopped giggling at the sight of two grown men kissing in public, I grew concerned for their safety. Surely, their cars would get keyed or their windows smashed. Then it hit me that I was concerned for nothing. This was the Big City, these guys probably didn't have cars anyway. My friends like to point out any male couple kissing or holding hands as we're walking on the streets of Manhattan just to hear my school girl giggle at the preposterousness of homosexuals roaming the streets free. I don't see this behavior of mine stopping anytime soon either, at least not while I still live in this podunk town.
One day when I am a grown-up I will figure out what I want to do with my life. I will arrive at work on time after having eaten a breakfast that did not consist of a bowl of Cocoa Krispies and/or Pop Tarts. I will pay my cable bill before Dish Network sends up a pop-up message on my screen asking for their money every two minutes until I either pay them or pop in a DVD. Most importantly when I'm an adult I will stop roaming the aisles of Target singing the latest Ke$ha single for hours until my buzz off the Olive Garden wine wears off. One day ...
but not today.
Share on FacebookGone Too Soon
Like the passing of a loved one who's been under intensive care for a while, yesterday's official notice of the cancellation of Melrose Place 2.0 was inevitable but heart-wrenching nonetheless.
When the original Melrose Place series debuted in 1992 it took a while to gain its footing and secure an audience but it was given the time to grow and turn into the pop culture icon it is today. It was renewed for a second season and continued to entertain audiences for 7. Melrose Place 2.0 wasn't given that same chance. Instead, after a single season it was canceled, yet shows like 7th Heaven, One Tree Hill and Smallville continue on into double digit seasons. Seriously, Clark Kent hasn't figured out all of his powers yet? Jesus, just give him the damn red and blue suit and get it over with already.
The CW should have done with MP 2.0 what they did with the 90210 remake. They brought in some of the original cast at the beginning to appeal to the older viewers and then developed the new characters they had. The old cast members were brought back during sweeps week to raise ratings. No one wants to see Donna Martin's face on the new 90210 week after week. Instead, MP 2.0 had both major storylines of the season focus far too heavily on original characters Dr. Michael Mancini, Sydney Andrews and Amanda "I buy my Botox in bulk and use it all in one sitting" Woodward. Having Heather Locklear show up in nearly every episode is probably what scared away half your original audience.
The other half had already been scared away by Ashlee Simpson-Wentz' horrendous acting (and I use the term loosely here) "skills". Really CW, what were you thinking? I get that Ashlee and her nose 2.0 are pretty but did you not notice that the girl cannot act? At all! MP 2.0 needed a red-headed crazy bitch in the vain of Kimberly Shaw but Mrs. Simpson-Wentz was not it. You could have done so much with a certifiable crazy bitch on the show and you missed your mark by leaving her on too long.
Melrose Place could have been the west coast answer to Gossip Girl. They were the first television show to regularly mention tweets and status updates, just what today's youth are talking about. I could not care less about Oprah's No Phone Zone campaign but hearing PR agent Ella Sims say that she gave up texting while driving was the first and only thing that actually made me put down my phone while driving.
You had a great formula. An established older fan base ready for a remake, gorgeous 20-somethings living in apartments whose square footage would make any person jealous, and one of, if not the, best television show soundtracks I have ever heard. The music on MP 2.0 wasn't the finger on the pulse of pop culture, it was the actual heartbeat of it. Week after week MP 2.0's soundtrack introduced us to hits that we would then continue to hear on the radio and television for weeks to come. The beginning of the second episode was the first time I heard Ke$ha's "Tik Tok". Say what you want about the crazy, white trash version of Lady Gaga but it's been 8 months and not a week has gone by where I haven't heard that song played on the radio or some commercial.
What am I going to do with my Tuesday nights now that I no longer have Katie Cassidy's sass to entertain me? How will I continue my life in the fall without knowing if Doctor-by-day/hooker-by-night, Lauren and Thief with a heart of gold turned restaurant owner, David will be able to make their relationship work? And most importantly where will I now go to get regular views of Nick Zano's sexy as all hell abs? Tell me that, all-knowing CW execs! Where will I get that now? Boo on you CW execs, boo on you for not having the foresight and patience to know what a great series and pop culture phenomenon Melrose Place 2.0 could have turned in to had you just given it the time to grow.
RIP Melrose Place 2.0, you were taken from us too soon.
For any adult who dares to judge my television viewing habits yet watches a certain Gilligan's Island re-imagining where people run around an island hiding from a smoke monster I say to you - Ya motha! Now with that said feel free to leave comments and tell your friends about this blog.
Share on FacebookLet Your Light Shine Bright
This week the entire Internet has been all over Greyson Michael Chance, the 12 year old singing sensation who covered Lady Gaga's "Paparazzi", posted it on YouTube and was on national television 3 days later. The second real YouTube star, following Antichrist Justin Bieber, to earn immediate fame and a record deal from YouTube. I give Greyson props though, the kid can sing like nobody's business. He's definitely got talent. Hopefully he won't fall prey to the same overproduced beats on top of which the Biebs sings "Baby" 18 times in a row and calls a chorus.
I'd like to point your attention to another YouTube "star" though. For every Justin Bieber and Greyson Michael Chance there are thousands upon thousands of people who don't get the same attention or success. It's one of these YouTube unsung heroes to which I'd like to introduce you to today. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Timmy Dumot.
I'm a full-grown adult and I don't know the lyrics like this kid does. I would also never have the balls to dance around in front of people in an outfit 3 sizes too small, much less to let it be videotaped. Timmy may not have the talent, voice or side-swept bangs that Justin and Greyson have but he does have heart. Timmy doesn't miss a beat even when his parents try and sneak into the spotlight by providing some unneeded backup vocals and pants-less backup dancing. He can do the back-up harmonizing for himself (03:51). At 03:33 Timmy breaks it down, takes it to the floor and shows us just how fierce a grade-schooler can be. I applaud you, Timmy. When I was your age and singing Paula Abdul's "Cold Hearted Snake" I didn't put as much heart and soul into my performances as you do.
Keep your head up, little man. Justin Timberlake didn't win when he was on Star Search but that just left the door open for him to join the Mickey Mouse Club. You may have not have gotten yourself a record deal from this video but you have definitely secured a spot in my heart and in the hearts of tens or even dozens of others. Just keep that budding diva attitude in check until you really make it big. Then you can create an alter-ego and have him dish out the Sasha Fierce attitude to your parents when they're ruining the video.
Lady Gaga performed for years in bars and clubs before she gained worldwide success. For now just focus on your craft, find your own Mama Knowles to dress you properly and keep on letting that light shine bright Timmy.
Bieber Fever
Earthquakes, floods, disease and famine - all signs that the end times are upon us. Most major political or cultural figures throughout history have been pinpointed as a potential for being the Antichrist, foretold in the Book of Revelations, who will come forth to bring armageddon. Biblical scholars to your regular run of the mill crazy Christian fanatic have all tried to name who the Antichrist will be. George W. Bush, Mahmound Ahmadinejad, Prince Charles, the Pope, President Obama and even Oprah have all been accused of being the Antichrist. I now give you a new name to consider - Justin Drew Bieber.
Could Justin Bieber be the Antichrist? Is this blonde, cherub-faced teenager really the disguise of The Beast? Look at the signs. He came out of nowhere, rose to power and now has thousands of loyal followers who are ready and willing to follow the instructions of his every tweet. Yes, biblical scholars have said that the Antichrist would be a political figure but a simple comparison of the turnout for the last presidential election vs. American Idol voting will show you it's clear that America is really run by pop culture.
Come on, the first person to get a recording contract, a platinum record, the ability to cause massive riots among teenagers and an invitation to the White House Correspondents' Dinner all from simply being a YouTube sensation and no one questions whether or not Satan was involved? Am I the only person to think some virgin sacrifices had to have gone down in order for him to rise as quickly as he did?
What about that signature hairstyle of his? Seems to me a person could easily be hiding something underneath that perfectly blow-dried mop of hair he's got going on. Perhaps something like the mark of the beast? Is the reason for his constant hair flipping really to hide the 666 mark on his forehead? I mean really, has anyone ever seen the Bieb's naked forehead? I haven't.
This week we saw but a glimpse of J. Bieb's power when he tweeted a picture of him and his "girlfriend", Kim Kardashian. She was instantly hit with death threats by throngs of prepubescent girls. A simple tweet from him ended it and Kim's life was spared. This 16-year-old's mere presence is enough to cause thousands of teens to riot and have malls shut down and concerts cancelled. What will we be in for when he turns 18 and comes into his full power? Bieber already controls Twitter. Do you know how hard it is to get on the trending topic list? Much less to consistently be in the top 10 week after week. If that's not a display of Lucifer's power then I don't know what is.
Is the "Bieber Fever" currently sweeping the nation actually the rising heat from the depths of hell coming forth to consume us all? You decide.
Dear throngs of prepubescent girls, I write jokes. If you have a death threat or comment to send my way then leave it here in the comment section.
Share on FacebookDon’t mind the mess
Bear with me as I figure out this WordPress business and move my site over to it.
If anyone knows HTML, shoot a bitch an email: whathadhappa@gmail.com
I have header questions.
Share on FacebookAdventures in Vacationing Part 4 – How to Have a Proper Vacation
I've probably recovered all the memories I'm going to recover without going into some sort of psychiatric treatment like the people who go into hypnotherapy to recover suppressed traumatic experiences or past lives. Suffice it to say all the memories I do have point to the fact that I had a kick-ass vacation.
From what I've pieced together I've been able to come up with a list of things for a great vacation.
1. Pace yourself
If you're going to start drinking at 10:30 am that's perfectly acceptable. After all, it's 5 o'clock somewhere. Don't however, start off with the hard stuff pounding shots like an 18 year old on Spring Break in Mexico finally able to legally drink. Start off slow and remember to eat lots of protein to absorb the alcohol. Plus you'll need the energy you get from food to dial all your friends, family and exes when you're completely wasted and tell them the business.
2. Chillax
There are vacations you take where you go visit family. There are vacations you take with the intent to sightsee and cram as much as humanly possible into the time you have. Then there are the vacations where you just want to chill and relax. If you are on one of these vacations, don't stress. You may be in a new town but more than likely this place ain't going anywhere and you can see the sights on your next time here. For now, pick up the phone to have room service bring you another bucket of beer and find a hottie to rub some more sunscreen on you. This ain't a L'Oreal commercial but you are worth it. Act accordingly.
3. Deny everything
I probably picked this up from years of watching Star Jones on The View but I now add "allegedly" to damn near every sentence that comes out of my mouth. When I'm drunk I like to tell my friends that "one of us may possibly be drunk but I'm not at liberty to name names." (Read that last sentence in a very slurred voice.) Admit to nothing. This comes in especially handy when your friends call you out on the secrets you spilled. I didn't spill anything. I said allegedly.
4. Bring your own camera
You can't exactly deny everything if you've got pictures of you snorting coke floating on the Internet, just ask Kate Moss. Bring your own camera. Take a few pics and then pass it on to a friend. This way all the incriminating pictures of you will be on your own camera and you decide what exactly gets posted to Facebook. You definitely don't want your shenanigans tagged so that your family in Mexico sees what you're really like. There is no need for your 80 year old aunts to see pics of you wearing bunny ears and singing karaoke.