And is it just me, or does looking at Ashlee Simpson make you wonder what Jessica Simpson looked like before the nose job?
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
AshleeGate: The Story Which Just Gets Better
Randy sent this little tidbit along from MSNBC.
Ashlee's manager/ father (the combination of which explains oh-so-much) on the incident:
“Just like any artist in America, she has a backing track that she pushes so you don’t have to hear her croak through a song on national television,” Joe Simpson told Ryan Seacrest on Los Angeles radio station KIIS-FM. “No one wants to hear that.”
I like how this family operates. EVERYONE does this. EVERYONE. Oh, and she had a tummy ache and never did it before. And it was the band. They played the wrong song... and... and...
And apparently the Simpson family has not learned a simple truth in American culture: if you ignore something and refuse to feed the press with quotes, etc... the issue will go away, and in two months, people will have a hard time trying to remember whether it was a dream or if it really happened.
You know, when Ashlee Simpson was just a small time act, playing bars and clubs, selling demo tapes for $5.00 out of the trunk of her own car, you know... paying her dues... she didn't need a back up track. Ashlee Simpson, is it possible you've sold out?
Read the story here.
Randy sent this little tidbit along from MSNBC.
Ashlee's manager/ father (the combination of which explains oh-so-much) on the incident:
“Just like any artist in America, she has a backing track that she pushes so you don’t have to hear her croak through a song on national television,” Joe Simpson told Ryan Seacrest on Los Angeles radio station KIIS-FM. “No one wants to hear that.”
I like how this family operates. EVERYONE does this. EVERYONE. Oh, and she had a tummy ache and never did it before. And it was the band. They played the wrong song... and... and...
And apparently the Simpson family has not learned a simple truth in American culture: if you ignore something and refuse to feed the press with quotes, etc... the issue will go away, and in two months, people will have a hard time trying to remember whether it was a dream or if it really happened.
You know, when Ashlee Simpson was just a small time act, playing bars and clubs, selling demo tapes for $5.00 out of the trunk of her own car, you know... paying her dues... she didn't need a back up track. Ashlee Simpson, is it possible you've sold out?
Read the story here.
Monday, October 25, 2004
As mentioned above, Ashlee Simpson had a little problem on SNL Saturday night.
Ashlee Simpson blames her band for a mistake the technician with the DAT made. Meanwhile, Jude Law is embarrassed for the both of them
And because Ashlee Simpson represents everything dumb about the music industry, The League is doing its part to make sure this snafu gets as much coverage as possible.
Intrepid Leaguer L. Denby has located not only the photo above of Simpson making the situation worse, but she's also located the video of Simpson both (a) inadvertently revealing the man behind the curtain and (b)showing no talent for improvisation.
In addition to the video above, here is Simpson drawing attention to the problem instead of just hoping it will go away.
CNN.com jumped in on the snafu here.
For those of you keeping track:
1) Simpson's first song on SNL went off without a hitch.
2) Her second song began playing
3) Simpson wriggles uncomfortably on-stage. I am told this is her dancing, and not some further gaffe.
4) The lyrics to her 1st song began to be heard over the top of the second song.
5) The hands of the guitarists do not seem to actually move from about 00:04 on the timeline to 00:24. Meanwhile, music is playing.
6) The vocal track cuts out
7) Simpson dances terribly
8) Band looks uncomfortable and thanks God for their over-styled anonymity
9) Simpson disappears from stage
10) go to commercial
11) a few lame skits. Want to find Bear City funny. Impossible.
12) end of show curtain call. Jude Law says something about "live tv"
13) Simpson blames band for playing "wrong song" which means one or more of the following:
a) The band has never before rehearsed with Simpson
b) Simpson's voice is an intangible force able to appear and disappear without her moving her lips/ originates from her belly
c) Simpson cannot improvise and sing one of her own songs when cued by her own music
d) Simpson has hired a magical band which doesn't need to touch its own instruments in order to produce music
e) Simpson thinks owning the DAT makes you part of the band
f) The ability of the band to play should not outweigh the OC'ness of their hair
g) Simpson is a shitty liar
h) Simpson doesn't know when to quit
14) Simpson's career completely unaffected as her pre-teen audience rationalizes the incident and angrily attacks those pointing out why Ashlee Simpson sucks
15) Maybe being the sister of an untalented singer doesn't qualify you as the next queen of rock n' roll
Ashlee Simpson blames her band for a mistake the technician with the DAT made. Meanwhile, Jude Law is embarrassed for the both of them
And because Ashlee Simpson represents everything dumb about the music industry, The League is doing its part to make sure this snafu gets as much coverage as possible.
Intrepid Leaguer L. Denby has located not only the photo above of Simpson making the situation worse, but she's also located the video of Simpson both (a) inadvertently revealing the man behind the curtain and (b)showing no talent for improvisation.
In addition to the video above, here is Simpson drawing attention to the problem instead of just hoping it will go away.
CNN.com jumped in on the snafu here.
For those of you keeping track:
1) Simpson's first song on SNL went off without a hitch.
2) Her second song began playing
3) Simpson wriggles uncomfortably on-stage. I am told this is her dancing, and not some further gaffe.
4) The lyrics to her 1st song began to be heard over the top of the second song.
5) The hands of the guitarists do not seem to actually move from about 00:04 on the timeline to 00:24. Meanwhile, music is playing.
6) The vocal track cuts out
7) Simpson dances terribly
8) Band looks uncomfortable and thanks God for their over-styled anonymity
9) Simpson disappears from stage
10) go to commercial
11) a few lame skits. Want to find Bear City funny. Impossible.
12) end of show curtain call. Jude Law says something about "live tv"
13) Simpson blames band for playing "wrong song" which means one or more of the following:
a) The band has never before rehearsed with Simpson
b) Simpson's voice is an intangible force able to appear and disappear without her moving her lips/ originates from her belly
c) Simpson cannot improvise and sing one of her own songs when cued by her own music
d) Simpson has hired a magical band which doesn't need to touch its own instruments in order to produce music
e) Simpson thinks owning the DAT makes you part of the band
f) The ability of the band to play should not outweigh the OC'ness of their hair
g) Simpson is a shitty liar
h) Simpson doesn't know when to quit
14) Simpson's career completely unaffected as her pre-teen audience rationalizes the incident and angrily attacks those pointing out why Ashlee Simpson sucks
15) Maybe being the sister of an untalented singer doesn't qualify you as the next queen of rock n' roll
Halloween Spooky Tales! Day 1
By Jamie McBride Steans
Ok, I'm going to attempt to write a Halloween tale for you. You kinda put the kibosh on anything ultra creative by insisting it be true.
The house I grew up in, a 2 story with large attic and basement, was built in 1905 (Aught-5!) by early Lawtonian William H. Quinette. This was a great house for kids and my older brother and I spent hours playing in the vaulted-ceilinged attic (complete with large wasp nests and large wasps) and three roomed basement. The only place I refused to go was the storm cellar, which had no light and to my recollection harbored a spider convention.
When I was about eight years old, my dance instructor revealed to me that when she was in high school she had been friends with a girl who used to live in my house.
Dance teacher: "You know it's haunted, right?"
Me: "No it's not."
DT: "Yeah, the guy that built the house died in the master bedroom. [Dance teacher's friend's name] saw his ghost on the front stairs once."
Me: "No she didn't"
But it was too late. Even though I didn't believe in ghosts, my dance teacher had successfully managed to totally freak me out. For five full years not once did I use the front staircase after dark, terrified that I would meet face to face with old Bill Quinette. For five years after that I would only use those stairs on occasion at warp speed (yes, I did this well into my teens. shut up). I never did see a stupid ghost and it's a miracle I did not fall and bust my ass on the stairs while fleeing the imaginary Mr. Quinette. Maybe he liked us and didn't want to scare us away. I can only hope he appeared to greet the next owners after they felt it necessary to paint my old room orange.
By Jamie McBride Steans
Ok, I'm going to attempt to write a Halloween tale for you. You kinda put the kibosh on anything ultra creative by insisting it be true.
The house I grew up in, a 2 story with large attic and basement, was built in 1905 (Aught-5!) by early Lawtonian William H. Quinette. This was a great house for kids and my older brother and I spent hours playing in the vaulted-ceilinged attic (complete with large wasp nests and large wasps) and three roomed basement. The only place I refused to go was the storm cellar, which had no light and to my recollection harbored a spider convention.
When I was about eight years old, my dance instructor revealed to me that when she was in high school she had been friends with a girl who used to live in my house.
Dance teacher: "You know it's haunted, right?"
Me: "No it's not."
DT: "Yeah, the guy that built the house died in the master bedroom. [Dance teacher's friend's name] saw his ghost on the front stairs once."
Me: "No she didn't"
But it was too late. Even though I didn't believe in ghosts, my dance teacher had successfully managed to totally freak me out. For five full years not once did I use the front staircase after dark, terrified that I would meet face to face with old Bill Quinette. For five years after that I would only use those stairs on occasion at warp speed (yes, I did this well into my teens. shut up). I never did see a stupid ghost and it's a miracle I did not fall and bust my ass on the stairs while fleeing the imaginary Mr. Quinette. Maybe he liked us and didn't want to scare us away. I can only hope he appeared to greet the next owners after they felt it necessary to paint my old room orange.
ROUGHLY 1000 POSTS, AND STILL ABSOLUTELY POINTLESS
This is the 998th post on The League. Can you believe it? Sometime tomorrow, I reckon we'll be at 1000, depending on how funny the news is.
In reality, we've already passed 1000. In the beginning, I almost gave up the ghost a week or so in. Luckily, Jim D. was there to slap me back to my senses, AND he still had my postings in his cache. I reposted, and I think if you look, my "first day" of posts is about a week's worth.
So 1000 postings. Should be cause for some sort of celebration, but, instead, it kind of makes me feel a little weird about all this. I mean, I've probably got 2-4 times more posts than most bloggers who've been around a similar duration. And my readership is still completely unknown. That, and it's actually a little bit of work, and ain't nobody paying me to do it.
The hits I get come mostly from people either looking for nude photos of Ann Coulter (a creepy past-time, not to mention... do you REALLY think anyone ever got their hands on nude photos of Ann Coulter?) or else they come from IMDB.com. Jim tends to take my posts regarding movies, TV, etc... and then do my legwork for me, linking IMDB back to The League.
The rest of my hits are either people looking for images I happen to have, the occasional creepy search for "ryan steans", or "melbotis". But at least 50% I have no idea who they are. If it weren't for the comments section, I'd feel I was completely howling into the void.
So where does the League go from here? I have no idea. More of the same, I'd guess. Probably less Britney Watch. That's been unpopular.
I guess you can continue to expect a lot about Superman, comic books, movies, TV, Superman, Arizona, Austin, Superman, the cat, the dog, parental visits, Superman, Halloween, Christmas, bad lunches, bad pop stars, Superman, etc...
As always, Loyal Leaguers SHOULD be the driving force behind The League of Melbotis. We aren't shy, and we certainly welcome topics of all shapes and sizes. So, you know, if you have a topic you'd like to see batted about here, speak up.
I do feel bad there wasn't some profound 1000th anniversary post, but, you know, I've been busy and this kind of snuck up on me. Maybe on the actual third anniversary.
So as a sort of 100th post anniversary thing, let's see how many of you will pop up in the comments section and say "aye". I'm just curious about my readership.
This is the 998th post on The League. Can you believe it? Sometime tomorrow, I reckon we'll be at 1000, depending on how funny the news is.
In reality, we've already passed 1000. In the beginning, I almost gave up the ghost a week or so in. Luckily, Jim D. was there to slap me back to my senses, AND he still had my postings in his cache. I reposted, and I think if you look, my "first day" of posts is about a week's worth.
So 1000 postings. Should be cause for some sort of celebration, but, instead, it kind of makes me feel a little weird about all this. I mean, I've probably got 2-4 times more posts than most bloggers who've been around a similar duration. And my readership is still completely unknown. That, and it's actually a little bit of work, and ain't nobody paying me to do it.
The hits I get come mostly from people either looking for nude photos of Ann Coulter (a creepy past-time, not to mention... do you REALLY think anyone ever got their hands on nude photos of Ann Coulter?) or else they come from IMDB.com. Jim tends to take my posts regarding movies, TV, etc... and then do my legwork for me, linking IMDB back to The League.
The rest of my hits are either people looking for images I happen to have, the occasional creepy search for "ryan steans", or "melbotis". But at least 50% I have no idea who they are. If it weren't for the comments section, I'd feel I was completely howling into the void.
So where does the League go from here? I have no idea. More of the same, I'd guess. Probably less Britney Watch. That's been unpopular.
I guess you can continue to expect a lot about Superman, comic books, movies, TV, Superman, Arizona, Austin, Superman, the cat, the dog, parental visits, Superman, Halloween, Christmas, bad lunches, bad pop stars, Superman, etc...
As always, Loyal Leaguers SHOULD be the driving force behind The League of Melbotis. We aren't shy, and we certainly welcome topics of all shapes and sizes. So, you know, if you have a topic you'd like to see batted about here, speak up.
I do feel bad there wasn't some profound 1000th anniversary post, but, you know, I've been busy and this kind of snuck up on me. Maybe on the actual third anniversary.
So as a sort of 100th post anniversary thing, let's see how many of you will pop up in the comments section and say "aye". I'm just curious about my readership.
Sunday, October 24, 2004
The Weekend in Review (post 997)
So, let me start by saying Garfield: The Movie really, really sucks. Really, really, really sucks. Even my planned cackling at the career dips of Breckin Meyer and Jennifer Love Hewitt didn't pan out. I mean, I just... felt... sorry for them. They looked permanently stuck in a toothpaste ad.
The truth is, Garfield can't really withstand a review, because I really don't have enough time nor do I know enough words to eviscerate this flick properly. But suffice it to say, look... this movie, like so many adaptations, had nothing to do with the original material. And one wonders, short of fulfilling a contract with Jim Davis, why on earth this project ever received the green light.
I laughed exactly once during the 80 minute movie, and that was Garfield's homage to Apocalypse Now's "Never get off the boat" scene. The movie sort of half-lifted the story from "Here Comes Garfield", but took so many turns for the worse, you'd really have to know what you're looking for to draw the parallel.
Clearly the film's producers had two ideas in mind in making the movie (1) children's movies are so idiot simple, characters should in no way be funny, or interesting or developed (2) Whatever made Finding Nemo, Shreck and Toy Story so popular with adults and children... let's do the opposite and make sure the parents' brainwaves only become engaged when counting product placements (and for the Daddies... whenever JLH appears in a tiny dress).
The final scene of the movie looks like a demo real showing Garfield dancing. And this was the second time I laughed. By this point, the movie had broken my spirit, and it was either laugh or cry.
"It... it just... sucks... so... bad"
This weekend also has marked the arrival of the Christmas Season. I saw my first Christmas present commercial this evening on ABC Family (yes, I am watching "The Hollow"), and then they ran an ad for ABC Family's 12 Days of Christmas. So, 2 Christmas commercials in 30 minutes.
That isn't to mention that the lights are going up on Mill Avenue, or that Bath & Body doesn't already have up its Christmas display.
But this is Halloween Week, and so I've been trying to keep it Halloweeny up in here. In that spirit, we watched 1932's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Which is way creepier than I remember the version I read as a kid being.
Also, the in-laws were here. We watched some football, got lost in downtown Phoenix, and spent a few quality hours at the Arizona State Fair (turkey leg.... mmmmm).
And did anyone else catch Ashlee Simpson go into meltdown on Saturday Night Live? man, if there were any justice... But, of course, nobody will care. is it any surprise she's lip synching and playing with a band which clearly hates her? Bwah ha ha ha ha
And Jim e-mailed me story of interest to Texas Exes.
TEX is being retired.
It's a little like hearing the dog you played with in college died. I'm kind of sad about it. Sure, registering online is 10x more efficient, but where's the thrill of the hunt? Where are the 7:50 A.M. alarms so you can roll over and start calling? Where's that screaming, "F**k you, TEX!!!! F**k you!!!!" when you can't get your class? Where's the shout of "whoo-hoo!" when you do get it? Man, the kids today will never know.
So, let me start by saying Garfield: The Movie really, really sucks. Really, really, really sucks. Even my planned cackling at the career dips of Breckin Meyer and Jennifer Love Hewitt didn't pan out. I mean, I just... felt... sorry for them. They looked permanently stuck in a toothpaste ad.
The truth is, Garfield can't really withstand a review, because I really don't have enough time nor do I know enough words to eviscerate this flick properly. But suffice it to say, look... this movie, like so many adaptations, had nothing to do with the original material. And one wonders, short of fulfilling a contract with Jim Davis, why on earth this project ever received the green light.
I laughed exactly once during the 80 minute movie, and that was Garfield's homage to Apocalypse Now's "Never get off the boat" scene. The movie sort of half-lifted the story from "Here Comes Garfield", but took so many turns for the worse, you'd really have to know what you're looking for to draw the parallel.
Clearly the film's producers had two ideas in mind in making the movie (1) children's movies are so idiot simple, characters should in no way be funny, or interesting or developed (2) Whatever made Finding Nemo, Shreck and Toy Story so popular with adults and children... let's do the opposite and make sure the parents' brainwaves only become engaged when counting product placements (and for the Daddies... whenever JLH appears in a tiny dress).
The final scene of the movie looks like a demo real showing Garfield dancing. And this was the second time I laughed. By this point, the movie had broken my spirit, and it was either laugh or cry.
"It... it just... sucks... so... bad"
This weekend also has marked the arrival of the Christmas Season. I saw my first Christmas present commercial this evening on ABC Family (yes, I am watching "The Hollow"), and then they ran an ad for ABC Family's 12 Days of Christmas. So, 2 Christmas commercials in 30 minutes.
That isn't to mention that the lights are going up on Mill Avenue, or that Bath & Body doesn't already have up its Christmas display.
But this is Halloween Week, and so I've been trying to keep it Halloweeny up in here. In that spirit, we watched 1932's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Which is way creepier than I remember the version I read as a kid being.
Also, the in-laws were here. We watched some football, got lost in downtown Phoenix, and spent a few quality hours at the Arizona State Fair (turkey leg.... mmmmm).
And did anyone else catch Ashlee Simpson go into meltdown on Saturday Night Live? man, if there were any justice... But, of course, nobody will care. is it any surprise she's lip synching and playing with a band which clearly hates her? Bwah ha ha ha ha
And Jim e-mailed me story of interest to Texas Exes.
TEX is being retired.
It's a little like hearing the dog you played with in college died. I'm kind of sad about it. Sure, registering online is 10x more efficient, but where's the thrill of the hunt? Where are the 7:50 A.M. alarms so you can roll over and start calling? Where's that screaming, "F**k you, TEX!!!! F**k you!!!!" when you can't get your class? Where's the shout of "whoo-hoo!" when you do get it? Man, the kids today will never know.
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