Monday, March 13, 2006

THE STARS SHINE...

...well okay - not really...

and more of your questions answered by the crabby critic



Dear Crabby:

What did you think of the Oscars this year?

Tallulah from Austin


Dear Texas Rose:

Not much!

AMPAS (The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences) has never been a philanthropic organization disseminating accolades to genuinely deserving artists. In fact, The Academy was originally conceived as a guild-busting anti-union vehicle to keep all its artisans in check.

Recall, if you will, that Garbo never won an Oscar. Neither did Hitchcock. Perhaps it’s because neither was deserving of one – but I seriously doubt that.

I’ll be darned if 3-6 Mafia didn’t walk off with the little gold bald guy this year, just like a bunch of oversexed caribou tricked out on spun sugar, for their atrocity on our eardrums “It’s Hard Out Here To Be A Pimp.”

That wasn’t Best Song material, if you ask me…just noise masquerading as, well, noise.



Crabby:

Help. There’s this guy in a Calvin Klein ad that I can’t stop thinking about even though I don’t know his name. He’s kinda thin and has blond hair – I think: the photo’s black and white. Who is he? He’s gorgeous.

Sandy in Wyoming



Dear Dirty Girl:

You’re probably referring to Travis Fimmel – the attenuated and effeminate looking Australian who was recently spotted having dinner with actress Meg Ryan at New York’s fashionable Nobu restaurant.

E-yuck…she’s old enough to be his mother.

Fimmel looks about 15 but he’s actually in his mid-20s. He left home at 17 and was discovered (barefoot no less) inside L.A. Models by Paul Nelson at age 21. His beatnik decree of “I hated school with a passion, man. It bored me to death,” seems to have worked in his favor. He’s since become a hot property almost everywhere and typical of young Hollywood today – cute but deadly vacant in the cranium.

Personally, I’m not a big fan of his current trend in infantilized men; hairless, slightly buff and with all the appeal of a sport and shave Ken doll. Clearly though, he has his admirers – mostly sycophantic groupies like yourself who don’t give a damn whether he can put two sentences together and come up with one coherent thought and just want to get in his circle of friends and his pants faster than you can say Calvin Klein.

Don’t stutter, darling. Just get a fresh change of underwear.

Yours truly,
The crabby critic


Dear Crabby:

What is it with Fabio?!? I never found the guy attractive but amongst my girlfriends he’s something of a male ideal and sun god. I just don’t get it. My sister jokingly says that’s because I have ‘lesbian’ tendencies. What do you think?

Fran in Kentucky


Dear Fran:

Not that I have homoerotic tendencies…but ‘NO’ I never found the ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter’ romance poster child/heartthrob attractive either.

I remember being inside the food court of a local mall in the mid-eighties, having lunch with a female friend. When Fabio’s fabulous image appeared astride a white charger on the overhead Trinatron a bunch of women gave their Chicken Crunch a break to cluck and swoon and sigh.

Unmoved by this obvious display of immature kiddy-lust I turned to my friend and said, “What’s the big deal?”

She replied, “I don’t know. He’s okay, I guess, but I think his nipples look like a couple of tattooed pepperoni.”

To this day I have trouble looking at any pizza in the same way.

I’m not jealous. I just think there’s something off putting about a forty something guy with a chest that has more separation than Aretha Franklin’s and a do of burnt out frizz masquerading as the stale remnants of a lion’s mane.

If that’s sexy I’m glad I’m not.

Cheer up, Fran. My gal pal didn’t think he was anything to look at so you’re lack of attraction to him is placed with good company. And please…no more pepperoni!

Yours truly,
The crabby critic



Dear Crabby:

Is Ellen DeGeneres really gay?

Sarah in Queen’s Park


Dear Royally Confused:

If not - she’s certainly given a grand imitation of it.

I think it’s safe to assume by now that the Emmy-winning ‘schlock’ show hostess and former sitcom star isn’t spending her night time hours fantasizing over what Antonio Sabato Jr. looks like without his Calvins.

I suspect that your question stems from the fact that for a brief period in her public life, Ellen was linked romantically to Anne Heche, a confused little nympho who eventually decided she wasn’t into girls and instead married cameraman, Coley Laffoon – who looks, at least in some photos, as though he might be waffling over to the other side. I remember the crude rebuttals Ellen received after the news broke about the wedding. “Geez, Ellen…just how bad a lay are you?!?”

Almost none of the media coverage had anything nasty at all to say about the reformed Ms. Laffoon – who clearly was exploiting the trendy “it’s chic to be gay” cliché to its fullest.

For a while it looked as though all these media eggs being lobbed at El' were going to broom DeGeneres from the hen house. Certainly, I never could figure out why she headlined San Francisco under the banner of “the funniest person in America.”

Oh, right…it’s Frisco!

Still, her ratings tanked after she ‘came out’ on her sitcom. The show was cancelled shortly thereafter and Ellen disappeared from the stand up circuit all together. Ah, but then came the talk show – that nattering annoying travesty of ‘can we talk’ with a trendy gay slant masquerading as hip journalism.

I can’t say that I care for El’, her stammering monologues, intrusions into other women’s purses or her frenetic gyrations that daily take on the flavoring of a break dancing chicken. But there’s no denying she’s popular in that disposable ‘of the moment’ way that most celebrities of her generation are. Will we be talking about her in fifty years? Try, not even in twenty – except maybe to laugh about how idiotic she was and how moronic we were for following her every move.

And please, Ellen…if you’re reading this – stop dancing.

Yours truly
The crabby critic




Dear Crabby:

Are you anti-gay?

Denise in Santa Monica


Dear Denise:

No. I’m anti-people who think I’m anti-gay. Take the stuffings out of your ears – Butterball!

- C.C.




Dear Crabby:

You’ve gone on record for criticizing people who are…shall we say…sexually experienced. What’s your glitch? Why are multiple partners a big “no-no”?

Brandi in Jonestown


Dear Brandi:

Because you don’t want to be known around town as a little
“ho-ho”!

- C.C.




Dear Crabby:

Is jerking off evil?

Jerry in Brownstown


Dear Jerry:

You must have been raised Catholic. But to answer your question simply – ‘NO’ masturbation is not evil. I mean you won’t grow horns (well, maybe one), go blind, go mad or go to hell for spanking the monkey.

I tried to find some history on where all these crazy curses began. Swiss physician Samuel Tissot gets the first nod in 1758 for his moderate condemnation of ‘chicken choking.’ But it’s really Sylvester Graham who translated the research into mass hysteria. Tissot merely speculated that masturbation might induce pimples, rheumatism, muddle-headedness, headaches and hemorrhoids.

But in 1834, Graham translated masturbation into a sadomasochistic form of self abuse or self pollution in which the ‘victims’ were awkward, suspicious and dirty individuals doomed to “a body full of disease, and with a mind in ruins…(a) loathsome habit tyrannizing…with the inexorable imperiousness of a fiend of darkness.”

So much for fact based medical science!

Seems the bigger the lie the more people believe – or at the very least – fear it. But there’s absolutely NO TRUTH to the rumors that whacking the walrus will give you acne, grow hair on your palms, make your member shrink or grow, give you cancer, lead to chronic fatigue, hair loss or lower your sperm count.

A recent study estimates that about 98% of the population has gotten up close and personal with themselves/by themselves at least once in their lives…we can’t all be crazy, infertile and condemned to eternal purgatory. Bottom line, Jerry – the fact that you’ve either done the deed or are about to, makes you normal…at least by the rest of our population’s standards.

Yours truly,
The crabby critic




Dear Crabby:

I’m tired of hearing about Natalee Holloway. How many girls go to some tropical paradise every year to screw and drink their brains out and come home with some STD they pass on to their boyfriends. As far as I’m concerned she got what was coming to her.

Brian in Charleston


Dear Brian:

Indeed – what did she give you?

You sound like a guy who’s been burned by one of those boozin’ ballin’ babes from the Bahamas.

You know, I remember all too well having a similar conversation with a friend of mine around the time Nicole Brown Simpson had her throat slit like a stuffed pig en route to the slaughter house. My friend’s justification was pretty much the same as yours for Natalee – “She’s a tramp. It wasn’t her first time screwing around. She’s hardly an innocent…” and so on.

Oh, pardon me…but where in the penal code does it say that a crime of murder will only be prosecuted if the victim died in a state of chastised grace?!?

But back to Natalee: do I think that girls like her, who go on vacation expecting to drink to excess and possibly have multiple one night affairs with guys they barely know deserve the congressional medal of honor for expanding the boundaries of alcoholic and sexual tolerance?

Decidedly not!

In my book, Nat’s hardly a little princess. She deserved a light smack to set her straight – and not by you or me - but by her father the first time she came home clueless, hung over and wearing her underwear on the inside out. And ‘NO’ I don’t think that Joran van der Sloot – the media’s prime suspect in the case - had anything to do with her sudden and untimely disappearance.

But did Natalee deserve to die?
Are you serious?


I’d hate to be living in a country where you were President.

Too many Pina Coladas?
OFF WITH HER HEAD!
More than one lover in a five year span?
OFF WITH HER HEAD!
Dumping a dead head boy toy for Mr. Right…hell hath no fury, eh?
OFF WITH HER HEAD!

I’m a fairly moralistic guy, Bri – but it’s beyond me how unprotected sex with a total stranger can or should equate to the death penalty. Perhaps if the burning, itching frustration of seeing Natalee Holloway on the nightly news is too much for your tender moralist sensibilities to bear then you should find some other festering wound to treat or scab to pick. No doubt you’ve plenty more where this one came from.

But incidentally, Brian – they make a cream for that!

Yours truly
The crabby critic


@2006 (all rights reserved).

2 Comments:

Blogger melodyann said...

Oh, well said, Crabby. Well spoken.

I've decided I'm a fan........

March 13, 2006  
Blogger bre said...

I love the way you handle these questions...The questions people ask, astounds me...But probably, their lack of common sense is more astounding...Great job at answering them.

March 15, 2006  

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