The Chili Peppers Are Slow on the Uptake

The Red Hot Chili Peppers, everyone's favorite band for about two weeks in the sixth grade, have decided to sue Showtime/their awful, awful show Californication. I'm not entirely sure why this is just happening now, eleven months after we first heard about this show way back during pilot season. Perhaps Chili and the Pepps (as I like to call them), had figured they'd let it slide as free publicity for their 1999 album of the same name. That is, theoretically, until they actually saw an episode of this vulgar, crass, hacky, piece of shit show and decided it wasn't in their best interest to have any association between the two. And you know if LTNA thinks something is vulgar, it's got to be pretty uncle-fucking, pig shit, dead baby vulgar. Just sayin'.

"The band claim that the the title is 'inherently distinctive, famous ... and immediately associated in the mind of the consumer' with the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Anthony Kiedis, the band’s lead singer, added: 'Californication is the signature CD, video and song of the band's career, and for some TV show to come along and steal our identity is not right.'"

Yeah, the RHCP are pretty much right on this one, and I hope they win. I don't really think they need the money, and I'm not exceptionally invested in the principle of it all, or anything. Mostly, I just think the show is dreadful, and those hacks need to pay for wasting thirty minutes of my life on that pilot.

I had actually assumed that Showtime had gotten the band's permission in order to clear the title of the show before, you know, airing it. But, I guess I gave Showtime, and by proxy the Chili Peppers, too much credit for assuming they'd actually be on top of their shit enough to realize the blatantly obvious conflict in a more timely fashion. The show's hack writing staff also rips off the Peppers' song title "Dani California," with one of the characters sharing the same name.

Sadly, I doubt this lawsuit will do anything except go away or, at best, force Showtime to shell out some dough to make it go away. There are enough imbeciles out there to have made this show a big enough success for it to already have a second season pickup. On the plus side, the success of Californication (the show), gives me hope. After all, if perverted tripe written by hacks can enjoy that kind of success here in Hollywood, there's hope for LTNA too! Did I mention the people behind this show are goddamned hacks? 'Cause they are. Hacks, that is.

God. Fucking. Damnit.

As a native New Yorker, I can barely express my intense chagrin over discovering what I missed this Saturday, when I was busy having another bullshit night in suck city, here in L.A. Long-time fan of Saturday Night Live that I am, I have lusted over actually attending a taping for years, and curse their cruel "lottery" ticket-giving system for never affording me the opportunity. But, this weekend's even liver than usual performance of SNL would have been the coup of coups!

The SNL cast (sans Maya Rudolph), plus some veterans like Horatio Sanz and Rachel Dratch put together a "too hot for TV" live show at UCB, where tickets originally went for just $20. But naturally, Criag's List scalpers entrepreneurs were selling tickets for as much as 3 hundo in the end. The proceeds went to benefit the crew who had been laid off due to the current writers' strike, which just makes Amy Poehler and the gang seem extra awesome for doing this.

The final "fuck you" on this vile cake of shit-LTNA-missed-out-on is that the host of Saturday Night Live-- No, Seriously, LIVE! was the adorable Michael Cera, whose enviable deadpan delivery has been enormously entertaining since his earlier days as George-Michael Bluth. The standing-room-only crowd was a motley crew including Lorne Michaels (who was not involved with the event), some of the aforementioned laid off staff members and, apparently, Jim from The Office.

So, yeah. As if seven years of living here still had me on the fence, L.A. is, indeed, a vapid wasteland for which I have bottomless contempt, and all the truly cool shit happens in New York. Confirmed.

Things with More Appeal.14

Reunited, and it feels so...fair. Now that I'm "back" and all, I've decided to have my first post exhibit me phoning it in with my customary efficiency. You knew what this was.

To wit, I'm resurrecting the whole Things with More Appeal bit. It is marvelous filler, after all. I haven't decided if I'm going to be doing these often, or with any regularity. Nevertheless, we're off, with the first installment of TWMA v. 2.0. Time to get your dick wet!

This week's Thing isn't anything new, or at least it isn't anything new to me. However, I revisited it recently because it's f'in hilarious, and I was pleased to discover it held up on a second (and immediate third) viewing. It's a sketch called The Jeannie Tate Show about a crazy soccer mom who hosts a talk show from her mini van while she's running errands. Her guest is Bill Hader(!) from SNL, whom I lurve. I was planning to have his wife, Maggie Carey, destroyed so I could have him for myself, until I learned that she directed this sketch. A keen comedic sensibility can offset even my most bloodthirsy murderous intentions. For now.

You can check out some of her other stuff here, but Jeannie Tate is definitely my favorite.

So, enjoy!

I'm as Suprised as You Are

Hey. It's been ages, huh? You look great. Really, really, great. It's so nice to see you. I know, I should have called. I'm sorry. It was hard for me too, okay? Look, I didn't come here to fight. I just thought, maybe we could, I don't know, give it another go. You know, pick things up again, like the old days. It was never you, it was me. I was married to the job. But, I'm ready to try again. I've been thinking about you a lot lately, and how things ended. I've missed you. I've missed your musk as much as you've missed my signature reach-around. Most of all, I...I still love you. Always have, my darling. I'm committed to this relationship, again.

Committed, at least, until I don't feel like it any more. Damn it's good to be back!

Kevin Federline Is a Great Actor

Kevin Federline is going to be on CSI. Surely, this sort of stunt casting will help the series gain some of the precious street cred they've been lacking, as producers have ignored my letters suggesting a fourth spin-off series, CSI:Jersey-- not to mention my other letters suggesting they add a second black guy. (Perhaps I should stop writing my letters in crayon.)

In any event, throwing Federlizzle into the CSI mix is a lot like adding a second black guy anyway, so maybe they took my advice, after all.

"According to reports, Federline will play an arrogant teenager who harasses investigators Nick Stokes (George Eads) and Warrick Brown (Gary Dourdan) while they are working on a case."

I'm sure playing "arrogant" will prove a challenge worthy of K-Fed's delicate acting abilities. After all, he certainly proved his acting chops at the Teen Choice Awards last week, when I was totally convinced he was a successful black rap star. I mean, I'm no Harvey Globetrotter, but I was rubbing my eyes in disbelief over the apparent lack of melanin in my caucasian brethren's epidermis.

It's just a good thing he doesn't look a day over 16, instead of like a functionally retarded sexually potent wigger pushing 30. Yep, it's a good thing indeed.

Happy Birthday, Buck Futter

Sean Connery turns 76 today. He doesn't look a day over 72, if you ask me.

That's nearly eight decades of poontang "tore the fuck up," as he would say undoubtedly. Or, maybe I'm thinking of Bill Bellamy...

Anyway, I'm going to spend my down time today (as if I have any), working on a mash-up of Timbaland's Nelly Furtado's hit song "Promiscuous Girl" paired with 50 Cent's "In Da Club," to make an entirely new hit song called "Promiscuous Septuagenarian Gentleman Partyin' Like It's Yo Birfday." It's going to be the song of Autumn 2006. Just watch.

Today's Lack of Images Courtesy of Blogger

It's a strange day indeed when I'm left trying to decide between talking shit about K-Fed's performance on the Teen Choice Awards last night, vs. talking about Osama bin Laden's alleged obsession with Whitney Houston (not to mention his apparent enthusiasm for MacGyver).

With regard to the former, it feels like the K-Fed posts write themselves all too often. Where's the challenge?

Then again, since when do I go for anything "challenging"? And considering that even a loser like Paula Abdul "feels sorry" for Britney Spears because K-Fed's performance was that bad, I couldn't help but jump on the bandwagon with my blogging comrades and reaffirm that Federline's performance met all of my hopes of being impossibly shitty-- shittier even than the video quality of it here on You Tube. Just try to get past that smug fucker Dane "I Was Funny Four Years Ago" Cook at the beginning of the clip to Britney waddling out to introduce her greasier half. I promise you, you will be disappointed.

As far as the whole Whitney Houston/bin Laden angle, well... it just seems too random to be made up. I really don't even know what to say about it, except I'm looking forward to Kola Boof's thoughts on the elusive Suri Cruise, as well as the Kate Hudson/Owen Wilson "Are they or aren't they?" debate du jour. Maybe we'll really strike gold when Kola writes a book about bin Laden's obsession with Kevin Federline-- no, not because of his music, but because of his beauty.

To Tide You Over...

Until I have time to write a real post again, my lovelies, enjoy!