Kelly Osbourne’s Nailpolish

I feel it would be lax of me to ignore the fact that the Emmy Awards happened the other day. So I am acknowledging that they happened. As everyone has come to expect by now, minus a few notable moments, they were fairly bland. Which is why the title of this blog is ‘Kelly Osbourne’s Nailpolish’… because for me, the most interesting thing that I could think about post-Emmy’s is the fact that Kelly Osbourne sported a $250,000 manicure to the event.

For what it’s worth, I thought she actually looked quite nice. But see that not even remotely exciting black manicure she has going on there? It’s worth $250,000. Why? Because the polish itself is made out of 267 carats worth of black diamonds. Which is nice and all, I guess. But like, what do you do with it the next day? I can’t imagine it’s something that you just let chip off. Do you distill it back into the bottle? Or is the idea that you have so much money that you don’t have to worry about that sort of thing?

The picture that Osbourne tweeted of the polish. Doesn’t even really look like much.

Shockingly enough, people have called the manicure “stupid” and a “waste of resources”. While Osbourne herself didn’t actually pay for the manicure, she is copping most of the flack. I don’t think that’s necessarily fair, but I do think that someone needs to put a little perspective on it. I am nominating myself. Here is a list of things that you could do for $250,000.

  • Get university educated in Australia 12.5 times – I am onto my second degree and currently owe the government a little over $20,000. Were someone to give me a $250,000 diamond maincure, I could scrape it off my fingers and wipe the debt I owe the Australian government for my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees 12 and a half times over.
  • Buy 125 round-the-world plane tickets – Travelling is food for the soul. With $250,000 you could buy 125 round-the-world plane tickets and see the world, including the parts that don’t have the luxury of wearing expensive manicure (or the luxury of being able to write snarky blogs about expensive manicures).
  • Pay your rent 9 years in advance – The average cost of a rental house in Sydney, Australia is $500 per week. $250,000 equates to 9 years worth of rent for the average Sydney-sider… that is some damned depressing math. Alternatively, you could just put a deposit on an actual house down and set yourself up a little.
  • 29 years worth of grocery shopping – In 2011, the average Australian spend on groceries per week was $164. Assuming that prices don’t budge in the next 30 years, $250,000 would buy groceries every week for the next 29 years. Alternatively, you could stock up for impending apocolypse by buying 29 years worth of canned goods.
  • Help Oxfam build 2551 schools with clean water in Cambodia – I’m sure at some stage you’ve probably given or recieved one of Oxfam Unwrapped’s gift cards, which makes a donation in the recipient’s name for specific projects that Oxfam helps fund throughout the world. It costs them $98 to build a school with clean water in Cambodia. With $250,000 you can help build 2551 schools. Alternatively, you can build 1851 wells in Sri Lanka, help support 10,000 women’s refuges globally or give 151 villages in Laos rice banks. I’m using Oxfam as an example here because they have a very obvious donation system that allows for such mathematics… but essentially what I’m saying is you could help out a shitload of charities.

So yeah, $250,000 is a lot of a money. It’s also a comically absurd amount of money to be putting into something as transient as a manicure. And it wasn’t even for a good awards ceremony either…


Talking About the Sex

I am not a prude. At least, I don’t think I am. When people are talking about sex, I don’t usually feel like I’ve missed the point. Or if I feel like I have missed the point, the wording is usually strong enough that I get a fairly intense visual (whether I want it or not) of how it’s supposed to go. However, I had a conversation with my flatmate last Sunday that made me think maybe I’ve never really had any idea about the sex and how it works. We were talking about Fergie. I’m not really sure why it came up, but remember that London Bridge song she did? No? ALLOW ME TO REFRESH YOUR MEMORY. (Thank me later.)

Now, I assume that there is some sort of innuendo going on in that song. There are some clues, like the fact that this is a 30-something year old woman wearing pig tails and a midriff top, and part of the bridge is the line “I’m Fergie Ferg, let me love you long time” (classy). But, upon further consideration, the chorus has completely thrown me: How come every time you come around my London, London Bridge wanna go down, like/ London, London, London, wanna go down like/ London, London, London, we goin’ down like. Okay, cool. I mean, wait… what? Assuming I have a “London Bridge” where is it located and, more specifically, how do I make it go down? Should I be making it go down? Once the bridge is down, how long do I need to wait before it can go back up again? This sounds like something I may need to take up yoga for, in order to achieve optimised results. Is this the case? I’m not entirely sure that sounds safe. I have no idea what’s going on. Send help.

Basically, what I discovered is that there is some innuendo that I just don’t understand. Here are five:

  1. Missy Elliot – Work It. Missy Elliot’s Under Construction album was brilliant because it combined two of my favourite things: dirty lady rap and weird video clips.

    Now… there’s some really obvious allusions to sexy times in there. My favourite is: phone before you come, I need to shave my chacha/ You do or you won’t, you will or won’t ya/ Go downtown and eat it like a vulture. Straight to the point, super obvious and very funny. Thank you, Missy E. The problem for me comes with the chorus: Is it worth it? Let me work it/ I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it. I think I have a vague idea of what’s going on here. The problem with putting things down, flipping them and then reversing them (aside from the fact that I feel like I would probably pull something if I tried) is that I picture this:

    Behold! My MS Paint skillz!

    Like… I can’t help but picture household objects in the place of the thing that I feel like she’s probably talking about. It’s a problem. On a side note, from now on I will only be communicating through the medium of stick figure, since I am clearly displaying some talent in this area.

  2. Kelis – Milkshake. More lady rap because this is catchy as hell and Kelis is a champion. This came out when I was 13 (oh God) and thus provided the soundtrack to many a school dance.

    So, high fives all round for Kelis’ cheeky reference to the difficulties of being a woman with a sexuality (Once you get involved/ everyone will look this way, so/ You must maintain your charm/ Same time maintain your halo). Get it, girl. On the other hand, what the fuck is a milkshake and why is it attracting boys to the concrete square that I call a yard? From the video clip and other lyrical content I gather that it’s something sexual, but beyond that I’ve got no idea. How do I judge if my milkshake is better than other ladies’ milkshakes? Whilst I understand that Kelis needs to charge me if she is going to teach me the ways of the milkshake, I’d like to know what I’m buying before I cough up the cash.
  3. Ministry – Jesus Built My Hotrod. Slight change of pace here. I used to love Ministry and I really liked this song.

    So I realise that beyond the weird mumbling about cars and Jesus at the beginning and the end of this song, the lyrics are fairly incomprehensible. I had to look them up. They weren’t much help. There’s some stuff about trailer parks and putting fingers in ladies. Basically, the most coherent part of the song is that Al Jourgensen wants us to “ding a ding dang” his “dang a long ling long.” Which, to be fair, probably means exactly what I think it means, but nonetheless sounds totally uncomfortable and like it involves a lot more waving around of the junk than I would like in a bedroom encounter.
  4. Rihanna – Birthday Cake. Rihanna talks about sex a lot. Usually in a really obvious kind of way… which is why this song is so confusing.

    So the key lyric here is: I wanna fuck you right now/ But he wanna lick the icing off/ I know you want it in the worst way/ Can’t wait to blow my candles out/ He want that cake. I’m not even really sure where to go with this, because in my opinion food should never really be introduced into the bedroom, no matter what those women’s magazines tell you. Especially not cake. You’d be finding crumbs forever and if he missed a spot with that whole icing gambit you’d wake up even more sticky and full of regret than usual. Basically, rather than a visual of sexy sex times, this song just makes me think that whoever wrote it was probably really hungry at the time. Rihanna came in and demanded a new hit, preferably about the sex and all they could think about was boobs and cake. Which is why the outro is just the word “cake” over and over again.
  5. John Mayer – Your Body is a Wonderland. Yes, I understand what’s going on with this song. Just stay with me for a minute.

    When asking around requesting suggestions for this list, my friends pointed out that John Mayer spends an inordinate amount of time in this song “discovering” this girl. Obviously, discovering just means he’s worked out where he can stick it. But then there’s this lyric: Take all your big plans and break them/ This is bound to be a while. Essentially, John Mayer’s lady love has to put her life on hold because Mayer may or may not have failed basic biology. Either that, or he knows something about lady bits that I don’t… but since finding “wonderland” involves searching a rabbit hole I’m kind of a little scared to go looking.

If anyone can give some insight into the exact meaning of any of those terms, please feel free to enlighten me in the comments. If you went searching and discovered some extra Wonderland-based theme park section of the female anatomy that I don’t know about, please share. Other than that, I owe many thanks to Wes and DeeDee, who are a lovely couple with a GIGANTIC CD collection which they mined to help me get this list together. You can find Wesley on Twitter and you can find DeeDee (who also goes by the name Katie, cos she’s sneaky) here. She’s crazy talented. Right. That’s it. I’m out. Be excellent to each other.

Hobbits! Hobbits Everywhere!

Today’s blog is going to be really short for a couple of reasons. Mainly because I spent all day filming interviews in the Western suburbs and I am exhausted, but also because I don’t really trust myself to be super coherent about what I’m about to show you. So uuh…hey! Hey, you guys! Look what happened!

Ahem. Excuse me one moment, but: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Calm. I am very clam. AHHHH! No I’m not! I’m really excited! I know I spend a lot of time talking about The Hobbit (this will be blog post number 3) but I have feelings! So many feelings! And then they go and give me a new trailer and it happens when I’m tired and I just want to curl up into a ball and cry because December is so, so far away.

But, although this trailer made me bounce up and down on my bed with ridiculous joy to the point of breaking it (my room is falling apart… what is my life?) it did absolutely nothing to alleviate my fears about the fact that they’re making three films. Seriously, look at all the stuff in that trailer. There’s the unexpected adventure part, a trip to Rivendell, the first meeting with Gollum and trolls, amongst other things. Where to from there? Sure, there are epic battles to come. But you can’t make a whole film about one battle and the slaying of a dragon, let alone two more films. What else is there to put in? How? Why? Everything about this screams “terrible fucking idea, Peter Jackson.”

Off to bed to dream of hobbitsies.

Argh. I don’t know what my feelings are doing. I’m torn between levitating with glee and hiding under the bed riddled with anxiety. Curse you, Peter Jackson! The only solution is to nap until Decemeber. Or at least, just have a nap for now. I’m really tired. This blog post is ridiculous. I am sorry. If I promise to write a better one next week, do you promise to come back? (Please don’t go. I love you.)

Frankie and the Foot Fetish

Ever wonder what Frankie Muniz is doing nowadays? No? Me either. Forgotten who Frankie Muniz is? That’s reasonable. Here’s a picture:

All child actors have to master the art of looking vaguely surprised in promotional photos.

He was Malcolm in Malcolm in the Middle, which I remember as being brilliant. I could be wrong though. It’s been a while. It had a great theme tune. That always helps. Anyway, like most child actors he kind of dropped off the radar there for a while. Apparently in the years following the show’s wrap-up he’s been racing cars for Jensen Motorsports and drumming in a band called Kingsfoil. Also, he now looks like this:

Like a terrifying man-baby.

Sounds fairly harmless, no? Considering ‘child star’ stories are usually full of drug binges, DUI arrests and nude photo scandals, it’s probably a good thing that he’s  managed to keep such a low profile. However, he did decide to direct Kingsfoil’s latest film clip and I think it reveals a little more about him than he originally intended. Don’t worry. He only appears in the video for about 3 seconds, so I’m not about to call him out on an embarrassingly large ego. Just have a look and see if you notice… something.

So, aside from some very earnest staring into the camera and a couple of weird attempts at artistic statement through the medium of fire-and-water throwing/ sped up emotional gesticulating at the side of a woman’s face, did anyone else notice the amount of time that the camera spent focussing on feet? Because there are a lot of feet in this video. In the space of a 4 minute song, there are no less than 13 separate shots of feet, shoes or feet in shoes. That may not seem like a lot, but each shot lingers for an uncomfortably long time and in a 4 minute video it adds up to about 30 seconds worth of foot-related material… which I just feel is unnecessary.

Just a sample of feet.

What’s really unnerving is that they’re just so disconnected from every other shot that happens. You’ll be watching some people standing having a drink and then suddenly! Barefoot jumping! Naturally, the conclusion that I have drawn from this is that, whilst he didn’t have some sort of teenage meltdown as a result of a childhood spent in the spotlight as a cast member on a popular TV show, Frankie Muniz did develop a foot fetish and it’s made an unsavoury appearance in his video clip. Clearly, that’s the only logical explanation. That, or he’s made the mistake of every aspiring artsy music video director and assumed that disconnected shots of body parts make a piece more interesting. Pro tip for any aspiring arsty music video directors: disconnected shots of body parts make nothing interesting. At all.

Also, did anyone else notice that none of the party goers in this video look at all like they’re having a good time?

Maybe Frankie’s potential foot fetish was getting in the way of the party. Or maybe it’s just really hard to look like you’re having the best time ever drinking and moshing to a song that barely warrants more than a sort of exaggerated sway.

Kingsfoil’s single, What Your Mother Taught You, is available on iTunes now, if you’re into that whole melodic rock thing. Alternatively, you could really do yourself a favour and instead download the Malcolm in the Middle theme tune and relive the early 00s. That’s what I’m doing.

Peaches Geldof is a Parent

I like to pay attention to what Peaches Geldof is doing. Not because I think she’s interesting or special – as far as I can tell, she’s mostly just famous for being the daughter of Sir Bob Geldof… does she do other things? I don’t know. But, being of a similar age, I feel like Peaches and I are negotiating similar obstacles, so I like to know what she’s up to. At age 23, Peaches has managed to write a dreadfully pretentious column for Nylon magazine (“The sun glows a burned orange as it sinks behind a skyscraper, a car horn screeches irritably, the wind whistles through the acres of willows in Central Park:  New York, the most offbeat and eccentric city in America, is my new home.”…oh, honey…no.. .) , get some really awful tattoos, have nude photos and stories of hard drug use hit the internet, be married twice and produce a child.

Things I have learned from Peaches: avoid getting naked and (allegedly) taking heroin.

I mean, I can’t really comment on the tattoo gambit, cos of the three that I have, two of them look like they were done in prison with a ballpoint pen and a cassette player, but other than that, what Peaches has essentially done is give me a check list of everything I don’t want to have happened to me by age 23. Especially the whole “married with children” part.

So that’s why what happened the other day is so brilliant (by ‘brilliant’, I of course mean ‘awful’). Four months ago, Peaches gave birth to a son with her current husband, Thomas Cohen (lead singer of the band, S.C.U.M… the ideal candidate for fatherhood, really). They named it Astala, which is just kind of cruel really. But I suppose when you come from a family who names their children Peaches and Pixie, you’ve got to get your revenge somehow. Anyway, the other day she dropped the baby and, thank goodness, someone was around to photograph it.

The baby ACTUALLY flips.

Look at its little legs!

I’m not posting this because I think that Peaches is terrible mother. She actually looks kind of concerned (as concerned as she can look, anyway… I’m not entirely sure she’s able to muster a full range of facial expressions). I also think, at some point, most parents lose a grip on their kid. At one stage during my early years my own mother became convinced that she’d lost me. After 15 minutes of frantic searching, turns out I’d just rolled under the chaise lounge. It doesn’t make them bad people, it makes them tired parents with a lot going on. The bit that gets me about this is that SHE MANAGES NOT TO DROP HER PHONE! No attempt is made at a two-handed effort at stopping the stroller (or pram, depending on your geographic location) from going over. And then, when she rushes round to try and pick the kid up, she doesn’t hang up. She just keeps talking.

I would have loved to be on the other end of that conversation. “Oh shit!” “What was that crash?” “Nothing, babe. Just like, dropped the baby or something.” “Oh… it’s OK, yeah?” “Yeah. Phone’s OK too.” “Oh good.” It’s just such a bizarre thing to look at I don’t even really know what to say about it. Nothing screams “not quite ready for parenthood” louder than talking on the phone whilst disentangling your child from mangled remains of his flipped over baby buggy.

So, what did I learn about my life today? I quite like my phone. It’s one of my few luxury items and it’s permanently stuck to my hand because I’m constantly using it for something/ everything. When faced with a scenario, possibly involving a baby, where I may be forced to drop the phone, I would probably try to avoid doing so. Having said that, I’ve dropped the damned thing about a million times and it has a cracked screen. At this stage in my life, I should probably not be allowed to have a baby. That is what I have learned from Peaches. (I should also learn to stop learning my major life lessons from paparazzi photos of babies on the ground.)

One last thing: has anyone else noticed that Peaches tends to date/marry men who look like her dad?

Exhibit A: With current husband Thomas Cohen and father, Sir Bob Geldof, on her wedding day.

Exhibit B: With first husband, Max Drummery.

Note: I’m only laughing at this because the baby is fine. Despite doing backflips into the cement he is unharmed.

Lana Del Nude

So Lana Del Rey, who made a name for herself by writing a catchy little ditty and then following it up with one of the weirdest live performances ever (on SNL, if you’re curious…I can’t find an appropriate video), is GQ‘s Woman of the Year. Which is cool, I guess. I’m not really into it, but the people that I would pronounce Women of the Year probably aren’t appropriate for the nude cover shoot that comes along with this auspicious title. Oh yeah… she’s naked on the cover of GQ. Which is kind of what I wanted to talk about. Before we have a look at Lana, let’s look at the other covers, shall we?

Men in Suits

Ok. Cool. I see how it is. Now for Ms Del Rey’s cover.

…something’s missing.

Spot the difference. I’ll give you a hint: It isn’t the fact that Del Rey is wearing lipstick.

I’ve got a couple of issues here. Aside from the strange definition of what constitutes a “Man/Woman of the Year” (…Robbie Williams?… Actually?) was the nudity totally necessary to shift the magazines? I’m not opposed to a naked cover shoot. In fact, I quite like them and I realise that this is a ‘gentlemen’s’ magazine, so I guess there’s some lee-way for having boobs on your cover. Honestly though, I just think it would have been a funnier and much more interesting statement if they had dressed the five cover models in exactly the same way. I mean, the four guys are wearing identical suits. With the exception of Tinie Tempah’s slightly sassier pocket square, they’re all exactly the same. But it’s then topped off with “also…ladies have boobs.” It’s just kind of… boring. It’s not provocative. She just looks nice and nude.

On top of the nude cover, this is the photo spread inside the magazine:

Uhmmm… what?

Now, that’s just provactive for the wrong reasons. It looks like the beginning of a higher end porn film. Jesus, GQ! Learn to find some middle ground. You’ve gone from bland to a bit off in 10 seconds. They didn’t even bother to find some suitably saucy male model to sexy it up with her. It’s just the creative director from the shoot. His name is Paul apparently. Del Rey called him “very hands on.” Seems accurate.

Anyway, that’s my two cents. You know that the lady would have looked fine as hell in a suit, so it’s just a little baffling as to why they didn’t just do that instead. Oh well.


Hansel and Gretel… Witch Hunters?

Allow me to begin this post with a really long and exasperated ‘EUUUUURGH.’ “But why, Alex?” you ask, “What has happened that could possibly bring forth such tones of displeasure? Did Peter Jackson announce they they were splitting The Hobbit into four parts?” HUSH! Don’t even speak of such things. It’s nothing that bad. It’s just that Hollywood has gotten stuck in a rut recently where they’ve started taking these iconic tales, amping up the supernatural element and calling it a blockbuster.

Here, I’ve broken it down into simple studio math for you:

Found scrawled on a napkin in a dive bar in L.A.

Of course, they haven’t just tried this with fairytales (they recently released Abe Lincoln: Vampire Hunter) but it’s probably a good focal point considering that the trailer for Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters has just been released. Check out this hot mess.

Gee, that looks like a witty and original taken on a….NO! NO IT DOESN’T! IT LOOKS STUPID AND THIS IS STUPID! You know you’re doing something wrong when, having seen two minutes of the film, out of order, I can tell you exactly what is going to happen and who will watch and enjoy this film. In fact, I can tell you all of the ingredients this film is going to have, just from the trailer.

Let’s break it down, shall we? We’re in the middle of Europe – non-specific Europe, but the bit of Europe with a lot of creepy forests and vaguely threatening accents. Kind of like Germany, but with a bit more mystery and menace… so probably further east. Doesn’t matter though. Audience doesn’t care. Getting the lead actors to work on having accents to match the setting is too hard though, so that’ll be left up to the extras, who (let’s be honest) are probably gonna be killed off later anyway. The setting lends itself to the supernatural, so it’s just a matter of picking which one you like.The vampire craze is slowing down a little cinematically, and Red Riding Hood has only just been redone, so wolves are out. No matter. With a couple of remakes of Snow White under the belt and a Disney rendition of Maleficent not out yet, witches looks like they might be making a come back. Hansel and Gretel has witches. Hansel and Gretel can fight witches. Boom! Plotline! Now that that’s been established, it’s time to throw in the other elements that we need to send this baby sky high.

Other successful films have been made in this genre, so rather than having to come up with anything original, just pull elements that work from other franchises. Based on extensive market research (i.e. watching a bunch of other films in the same vein), we can surmise that audiences like a few things. The evil needs to be obvious – so we must dress it up like a cyber-goth at a warehouse party. Observe.

Ah, black lipstick. Contact lenses. Long black hair. I see you are the bad guy in this film. Carry on.

Voila! So, that was easy enough. What else do people like? Period costume! Well… they like women in corsets anyway. It’s practically the same thing. But they also like lots of weapons and explosions. Oh no! A dilemma. Fear not kids! That’s what steam punk is for. So we can dress women in corsets, but also give them practical, crime-fighting (leather) pants to wear. And guns. Lots of guns. Think like Kate Beckinsale in Underworld. And then cross it with some Hugh Jackman in Van Helsing business. Bam! You’ve got your Hansel and Gretel.

Honestly, I’m not sensing enough leather here, but whatever. We can work with it.

Well that was easy. Now just add heavy rock sound track, poorly written script and some explosions and you guys’ll be good to go. I’m expecting my royalty cheque in the mail any day now.

In all seriousness though, who came up with this? Because it looks awful. I’m a big fan of Jeremy Renner, although I am firmly of the opinion that he should just play those strong silent types that don’t do a lot of talking. A “shoot first, ask very few questions later because that would involve talking and it’s not really my area”, kind of guy. And they have him doing a voice over on the trailer! To a terrible script!

“Me and my sister. We have a past. We almost died at the hands of a witch. But that past made us stronger. We’d gotten a taste of blood. Witch blood.”

Oh! You mean it was witch blood you’d gotten a taste for!? Because I couldn’t have fucking guessed that from the goddamn witches that were popping up all over the trailer, the fact that the movie is called Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters or the fact that the opening three seconds of the fucking trailer is you two killing a bloody witch. AH!

It’s alright. I’m calm, I’m calm. It’s just that, as an audience member who really enjoys going to the movies, who really enjoys horror movies, blockbusters and blockbuster horror movies, I resent being treated like an idiot. And that is what this trailer/film is doing. It’s holding your hand and taking you on a walk through a bunch of things that have worked previously and carefully explaining them to you. It’s not challenging, it’s not interesting and it’s insulting. TL;DR: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters, is coming soon. I will not be giving them my money.

Taylor Swift Breaks Up With Some Dude…Again

I will preface this blog by saying that I am not, nor will I ever be, a fan of Taylor Swift. I think she’s tricked people into thinking that she’s adorable because she writes “quirky” country pop songs about failed relationships that “we can all relate to”, when in reality she writes bitchy hate notes about relationships that don’t go her way and convinces 14 year olds that the most appropriate way to deal with feelings is to publicly shame the other person and disregard any wrong-doing on your part. Having said that, she is dating a Kennedy and just bought another house worth a couple of million, while I’m sitting in bed waiting for pay-day so I can eat something that isn’t pasta… So I guess she’s winning. But whatever. Point is, she recently released a new video for her song We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. And it’s accidentally by-passed ‘quirky’ and gone straight to ‘fucking weird’. Check it out.

Did anyone else spend most of that whole thing in open-mouthed amazement? Because whoever was responsible for this concept has clearly lost their mind. I don’t even know where to start…

Actually, I definitely do know where to start. Let’s skip over the intro where there is some weird, slightly terrifying craft bird stuffed in the tree outside Swift’s window and jump straight to the fact that there the whole band (who magically appear in her living room) is made up of furries. Like, for no reason, suddenly, people in animal costume! What the ever-loving fuck?

The guy in the back’s face screams “this is not what I signed up for.”

I’m not even sure what everyone is supposed to be dressed as, but I do know that the overly enthusiastic girl with the violin is a squirrel. More on her later. Right now, let’s have a look at this guy:

He has this face THE WHOLE MOTHER-FLIPPING TIME. Like…actually the whole time. It’s terrifying. I don’t know how to cope with it. So I’m not. I’m just going to move onto the other over-enthusiastic guy:

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE!!? What bizarre-o extras agency provided them!? Or are they the regular members of Swift’s touring band? Because if that’s the case, I feel like that tour bus might be the seventh circle of Hell.

Now, it’s nigh on impossible to get a good screen shot of it, but when the party scene comes around, keep an eye on over-enthusiastic squirrel lady, because she totally stacks it while doing some sort of manic-pixie-dream-girl jumping dance on the couch. No one acknowledges it and we move on. Which is brilliant.

While the sudden appearance of people in animal costume (and a car made out of cardboard) is my main peeve in this video, I am also annoyed by Swift’s need to reinforce what a good girl she is by wearing glasses. She did it in that other obnoxious song she released, You Belong With Me, which has that catchy little line – “she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts”, which essentially translates to: “she’s a dirty tramp and you should like me better.”

“I wear glasses because I am a nice girl.”

“So you should ditch your brunette hooker of a girlfriend and come hang out with me.”

It’s a cheap gimmick that’s been used in every 90s teen flick ever and while a lot of people reference those ironically, I get the impression that isn’t what’s going on here. Anyway, if the “nice girl with glasses” thing has failed for you so many times, Taylor (like, enough times to pad out a couple of albums) you should probably just find a new gimmick. Or, at the very least, stop doing that weird drunk girl pointing dance thing.

Just point and mime like you’ve had a few too many beers on a Saturday night! Yeah, like that!

Anyway, I hate that video. I hate that song and I hate that I’m another 24 hours off getting paid this week. So, I guess the moral of today’s blog is Taylor Swift shouldn’t make videos when I’m out of food because it makes me a grumpy mother-jumper.

Create a free website or blog at