Mark Foley's scandal is pretty classic. It features all the great hallmarks of a good sex scandal. Sex, intrigue, authority figures, pictures of sixteen-year-olds erect appendages! Essentially, all the things America needs to protect. Because if we don't, the terrorists win.
But, on the serious, Foley is kinda romantic with his messages.
"how my favorite young stud doing"? Somebody is smooth.
"did you spank it this weekend yourself" Ooh, Mr. Foley! You're making us blush!
"well I have a totally stiff wood now" Congrats.
"Do I make you little horny?" Little is the correct term.
As chairman of the House Caucus on Missing and Exploited Children, Marky Mark introduced legislation targeting online sexual predators. As he explained to an NPR interviewer in 2002, "Where I have to draw the line is using children for the excitement of those more mature people who should know the difference and know better."
Ok, we do have to defend him on this. It wasn't pedophilia. Those boys were definitely post pubescent and hot!!! Can you blame a guy for trying? According to the United States House Committee on Standards of Official Conduct, you can.
This post will go without photos, for if you have not already made a photo album in your mind for the following TV shows, then...go fight a duel. And lose it. And die. But less heroically that our dear Xander Hamilton.
(T)AHP abhors television stations.
Ah yes, they do bring some enjoyable programming; however, for them the TV shows aren't mere facets of entertainment, but lucrative deals to create moolah for the honchos as 30 Rock (not to be confused with Tina Fey's delightful sitcom.)
These stations are the man. They are the man who cancels your favorite show midway through its sixth season. They are the man who creates spin-offs that ruin the originals, but still make money. These are the man that decides to have the Fonz literally jump a shark, starting a trend of horrible plot lines that ruin incredible TV. These are the men that hog the Golden Globes, SAG Awards, and Emmys for their own shows, while denying little shows the limelight.
Here are three examples:
The Gilmore Girls. While it is true that the show-stopping team of Amy Sherman-Palladino and husband Daniel Palladino created a wonderful show, they were lured by the man into the land of Jezabel. And primetime. And non-CW/WB/UPN networks. And killed a great plot line. Lorelai had something with Luke, Rory was not lovelorn, and everything was filled with the witty banter of Sookie and Stars Hollow gang. But when the man got full control of the show, he turned it into a glorified OC. Where's the Kirk?
Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Joss Whedon makes masterpiece. Masterpiece gets tiring for programmers. The man creates a final season, and a spin-off, and bites the neck of a great TV show--(if you think of it Angel is the living dead Buffy.)
And finally, Project Runway.
If Lifetime and the Weinsteins ruin this Bravo-licious show (regardless of the fact that Top Design and Shear Genius were bad), there will be hell and yards of chiffon to pay.
Anyone who's anyone knows that Alexander was born on January 11, but the year of his birth is somewhat uncertain. Most historians now use January 11, 1755 as the date of his birth, although disagreement remains.
We loved you on The Office as the adorable Jim Halpart. We kinda get the warm fuzzies when you look at Pam in that way that just seems like you would do anything to make her smile.
But we just like this:
We would knit him tons of scarves.
and we can forgive the fact that he's a Red Sox fan and we're totally Yankees.
He supports our theory that Brown University has all the hot boys (class of '02)! And he has a degree in playwrighting. (Fun fact about your bloggers: we once co-wrote a play about dead gerbils. Future post? Comment if you want it.) Nevermind. Brown boys are hot. And mature.
We really like the curve of his nose.
And the curve of his...other...things.
We're sleazy. You love it.
He's cute. You love it.
Love Always,
The Alexander Hamilton Project
PS
AND
we could not get this to embed anywhere, but see this:
Once upon a time and a land called Lobbying, there lived a ambitious, successful man by the name of Jack Abramoff. Lil' Jackie lived a pleasant life. At Beverly Hills high school where he was a champion weight lifter and, according to the gospel of NPR, a bully. He also found his way to Judaism through the film of Fiddler on the Roof. He gave back to cinema as well, by helping to write an anti-communist action film entitled Red Scorpion that included this little chestnut:
Dewey Ferguson: Man, what I'd give for a bacon-cheeseburger right now. Wash it down with an ice cold glass of beer. Fuckin' A.
Kallunda: When we arrive at Porto Silva, there will be a celebration, and much feasting. Beer too.
Dewey Ferguson: Fuckin' A!
Lt. Nikolai: Do the americans all swear so much as you do?
Dewey Ferguson: As a matter of fact, in America, an American can swear whenever, wherever, however much he or she fuckin' well pleases! It's a little something we call freedom of speech, which I'm sure you Russians aren't real familiar with!
Speed up many years later, where Jack-Jack is a powerful lobbyist and, what many would consider, a balla. That is evidenced by the way he rocks a fedora.
He was gracing sky boxes 'round the world and his own restaurant. But that would all come crashing down when he was investigated for corruption for, y'know, giving people the sky box visits and trips to his restaurant. He's now doing about 5 years in the big house. But out of the myriad of reasons to love him, our favorite is that he's in a pepetual state of, "Oops, y'all."
Jack Abram off? But I hardly know Abram! And I would probably only let him get to second base.
The lovely vestige of current-day pop culture, American Idol, celebrated an American icon with its theme this week—Dolly Parton. And as I watched each contestant respectively butcher or breathe life into songs from her remarkable songbook, culminating the next night with their group number, “9 to 5,” my mind went reeling back to one of the best films ever made… “9 to 5,” of course.
Now this movie is known for its humor, well-played by the lesbian comedienne Lily Tomlin, respected actress Jane Fonda, and the singer-turned-actress Dolly Parton. With such a cast, where can you go wrong?
Well…nowhere! These three women conquer the working world, and their boss, with the assistance of dream sequences, pot-smoking, and cartoon rabbits. It is hard to imagine at what point this movie isn’t hilarious.
Now, while it’s easy to dismiss a movie like this as kitsch, it really deserves its recognition as an Oscar-nominated film (granted, for Dolly Parton’s wonder song that opens the film.)
The film really is a blend of different types of comedy. There is the satire in the dream sequences: Lily Tomlin envisions poisoning the boss as a Snow White, Dolly Parton ropes him like a bull in a truly cowboy-manner, and Jane Fonda is very femme fatale as a spy hunting a boss-man.
But then there is situational comedy: Lily Tomlin getting pulled over by the police while returning a stolen corpse to the hospital. Jane Fonda shooting at the boss with Dolly’s pistol.
And finally there is irony: The boss’ wife finding her husband in bondage, while he simply tosses it up to exercising. Jane Fonda having to reject the husband she’s separated from, all so she can continue to keep the boss prisoner.
And honestly, its just funny when poison is confused for artificial sweetener. The movie even has drunk secretaries, old men playing a Mr. Magoo role, and black women quipping in their diva-licious manner.
Beyond that, the movie now has achieved a cult-status. It’s the movie of gay men and feminists alike. It also captures the late ‘70’s perfectly. It is Mary Tyler Moore in feature-film form. It is big glasses, pastel color, and everything else that typifies that era.
And really, think about it. What’s better than Lily Tomlin.
Or Jane Fonda.
Or…Dolly Parton.
(Btw: Recent developments mean that this movie will be reinterpreted for BROADWAY. With music and lyrics by Dolly Parton, and a cast that includes the Lovely Allison Janney, this will prove to be spectacular.)
And for your blogging pleasure, a slightly incredible tidbit of info about Alexander Hamilton:
Did you know that Presidents and Governors are not the only politicians to have sex scandals? Well, by golly, it's true!
Alexander Hamilton's career and reputation were (almost) destroyed when he was involved with Maria Reynolds. Things got ugly when her husband found out. The husband, when convicted of counterfeiting, told James Monroe and Aaron Burr. Rumors spread and Hamilton told everyone about his dirty little did, that he indeed had sexual affairs with that woman. He almost dueled Monroe because of it! But Aaron Burr stepped in, and calmed him down...
Hamilton from that day forward dueled a lot apparently. But not to worry, the American public has forgiven him.
Besides, it's not like FDR and JFK (who are on other bits of currency) had their own affairs. Pfft.
Ah, this beloved cancelled show is literally overflowing with sex gods. The maturely immature jokes and sly wit (literally, every time we watch it, we find something different.) makes our heart sing and our brains pound. This magical show isn't tricky, it's an illusion! Trust us, if you're not watching this show, you're making a huge mistake. We cannot wait until 2009 for the upcoming movie, and are hoping for some hot cousin-on-cousin action.
Here is, in our humble, obsessed opinion, here are our top-ranked Arrested Development that we want to make pop-pop in the attic with.
10.) Tony Hale as Buster
Mmm, what do we love more than an emotionally stunted, Oedipus-like, captain-hook handed, Liza Minnelli-dating Buster?
"Make love in your own hand, Mother!"
"I decided to sleep in the car so my snoring wouldn't bother you. And I left that recording of my snoring so you wouldn't know I'm gone."
Lindsay: You’ve had $80,000 worth of cartography lessons. Get us a channel to the ocean. Buster: Okay, okay, okay. (Pauses) Buster: Obviously this blue part here is the land.
9.) Alia Shawkat as Maeby
What isn't endearing about a young girl who possibly has a crush on her possibly not blood related cousin. How about a girl who asks people to marry her as a way of distraction? Or maybe a girl who pretends to be a wheel-chaired twin, Shirley, who has a fatal case of a bull-shit illness, "B.S."?
"Let's sit quietly and consider how ridiculous that statement actually was."
8.) Ron Howard's disembodied voice.
The only way to describe his narration is teeming with sexuality. Oh, the erotic way he says, 'Next time, on Arrested Development' sends shivers down our collective spines.
GOB: Well, I will tell you this, Michael... I don’t have a son...
Narrator: He does.
G.O.B.: But if I ever do, I’m either going to take him to the cabin in the woods, or I’m going to promise to take him and then not take him. But the one thing that I will never do is not tell him that I’m taking him to a cabin in the woods, and then not take him!
Narrator: G.O.B. was growing up.
7.) David Cross as Tobais
Possibly the most amusing character on the whole damn show. Never without the non-sequiters, at one point they brilliant writers pulled off an entire arc where he pretended to be his version of Mrs. Doubtfire, Mrs. Featherbottom. Never mind the never ending repressed homosexual jokes. If the show was an entire half hour of Tobias sitting in a room, I would watch. Thankfully, they're more creative than that. We hope we can get this Never-nude to change his ways.
"Yes. Lindsay and I are planning a night of heterosexual intercourse."
Tobias: OK, Lindsay, are you forgetting that I was a professional twice over? An analyst and a therapist--the world's first analrapist. Lindsay: Yes, and you were almost arrested for those business cards
Tobias: I prematurely shot my wad on what was supposed to be a dry run, if you will, so now I'm afraid i have something of a mess on my hands.
6.)Jeffery Tambor as George Sr.
This man (both Tambor and George Sr.) is a genius. The inventor of the poorly constructed/thought-out/marketed product ever: The Cornballer. He spends much of the first season in jail and later breaks out, to be confused for his twin brother, Oscar- the one who got the hair in his family.
Michael: We've got a picture of you with Saddam Hussein. George Sr.: I thought that was the guy who played the Soup Nazi. I told him how much I liked his work.
5.) Jessica Walter as Lucille
Mrs. Lucille Bluth loves all her children equally, but doesn't care for Gob. Never without a drink in her hand and a skirted suit on, Lucille Bluth is known for quite a few things, seldom printable on a 'family blog.'
Oh, Michael, honey. I want to cry so bad. But I don't think I can spare the moisture.
I’ve been drinking since before you were born. So if alcohol’s the reason I’m here, I got news for you, bub, it’s the only reason you’re here, too.
I can't stand overly dramatic people. They make me want to light myself on fire.
4.) Will Arnett as Gob
What's the best part about Gob? Is it that creamy voice? They way he leaves paper bags in the freezer marked: 'Dead Dove. Do Not Eat?' The fact that the final countdown plays everytime our favorite magician starts a show? Nope, our favorite has to be his black puppet, Franklin.
"Don't call my escorts whores."
"And that is why Jesus was often referred to as the King of Kings. Queens. The King of Queens."
3.) Portia Del Rossi as Lindsay
Lindsay is the hottest rich girl married to a possibly gay nevernude ever. Period.
I'm tired of trying to find happiness through lies and self-medicating. If you need me, I'll be at the bar.
2. ) Jason Bateman as Michael
So, we're fairly certain that we just in love with Jason Bateman. In everything. Including Teen Wolf Too.
Michael: (To George Michael) Hey, why don't you pop a tent in front with your cousin Maeby. Well, this is a good chance for you to rub off on her. Her? You know, the feeling that you're FEELING is just what many of us call... a feeling.
1.) Michael Cera as George Michael
And we're definatly in love with Michael Cera. For the past three or so years, we have constructed an intricate alternate universe in which we are dating, and destined to marry Mr. Cera. (Our children's names are Daisy and Jack, by the way.)Our love runs deep for this boy who will eventually get his own page- we're waiting so we can do him justice. But we first fell in love with him as awkward teen George Michael. And its pretty clear why:
Michael: What do you think of when you hear the word Sudden Valley? George Michael: Salad dressing, I think. But for some reason, I don’t want to eat it. Michael: Right. But Paradise Gardens... George Michael: Yeah. Okay, I can... I can see marinating a chicken in that.
I bought you a wedding ring... tone.
Michael: Keep in mind, we are building something that is not only for our kids, it's also for George Michael and Maeby's kids too. George Michael: We can't have kids. What's the matter? What are you saying? It's not even an option, really.
One of the most only violent episodes in senate history took place in 1856. The scene? A dimly lit-old senate chamber, in which Preston S. Brooks, a representative and a fierce carrier of a walking cane, was pissed off. He had vowed to get vengeance of Charles Sumner of Massachusetts. (See, back in the ye olde days, they were all about avenging.
The back story is Charlie Sumner gave a speech against slavery insinuating something about Brooks' cousin and whatever and
BOOM!
Preston S. Brooks is on top of Charlie Sumner, and not in the fun way. More in the caning way.
Now, keep in mind that this is 1856. This was no plastic, or marble, jewel-encrusted pimp cane. It was wood. We're going to guess that you most likely live in the 21st century (unless The Alexander Hamilton Project is the only thing extraterrestrials have to study human life. In that case, hi!) You might not never have seen a wooden cane. But just trust us: cylinders that splinter as they hit you? They hurt.
They eventually pulled Mr. Brooks off, but not before rendering Sumner unconcious.
Most people consider this a precourser to the Civil War. (T)AHP also consider this amusing.
We federalists like to hate on stuff. It goes way back to the XYZ affair. And, to continue this tradition, we’re going through the ABC’s of hate. No amount of lithium can stifle this Manic-depressive Monday.
We abhor that show The Hills. We don't understand why it is on television.
We admit, we're a little misinformed. We've only seen two episodes of that show and couldn't get through an entire half hour of Laguna Beach. Nonetheless, we cannot stand it.
First off, its the cast. Their uninteresting lives, their lack of facial expressions, the sheer entiltlement of it all.
Lauren Conrad has a completly astounding lack of charisma. Its quite a feat to be able to freeze our over-emotional hearts. And those fabric scarves she wears piss us off. What's the point? They don't keep your neck warm if they're woven with linen. Also, don't the live in L.A.?
And, personally, (T)AHP don't quite buy that whole Lauren vs. Heidi fued. We don't quite believe they were originally friends. We don't quite believe Heidi is a real person and not a robot.
We don't care if her boobs or his mustache is fake. (Blonde guys with facial hair shouldn't happen.) Their little photoshoots are, and that's just gross. So's this:
Seriously, though. Its bad enough that we kinda keep up with the Kardashians. Why must we be subjected to faux-celebutaunts? And, on one final note,
While watching the ANTM (America’s Next Top Model, for the unaware) Marathon on MTV this fine Friday, I was bombarded with the commercials of MTV. Now, for those of you who have not experienced this lovely cable channel it is essentially 5% programming and 95% commercials. And seeing as MTV is socially aware, the commercials not for beauty products or TV shows are undoubtedly for causes.
The causes cover a small range. It is basically anti-drug, anti-tobacco, and HIV awareness. This got me to thinking, which cause makes the best commercials. They obviously are trying to save your life. So basically it’s a little game now. Which form of death will you not die from?
Anti-Drug
You’ve definitely seen these commercials before, since I am determined that there are only 3 commercials, and they just switch out actors, actresses, and the occasional cartoon dog. These commercials revolve around three themes: rejecting drugs, ruining your life, and ruining other’s lives. They definitely make a statement, but let’s evaluate!
The rejecting-drugs commercials are some of the more visually pleasing ones. The best one is about the boy standing center-frame, watching as people come by and change his outfit, hair, and accessories. He just stands, stoically, against all that comes his way—edited to be fast-paced and stunning. Then he breaks free from his pot-induced lack of self-awareness, and walks away from the people who just shaved his head. I guess it works, but it’s a little ridiculous.
The ruining-my-life commercials are quite hilarious, however. It is impossible not to laugh at cell phone girl who worries about the revealing photos circulating the youth of America that were taken when she was “so high.” At this point, you are supposed to feel sorry for the girl, however I have known a limited number of pothead girls. They genuinely amuse me, granted in a completely horrible way. Especially because this particular one targets the Latin community, so our little pothead answers the phone, "Hey, chica!" In the end, humor is the only reaction received from these commercials. This is evidenced by the many Facebook groups dedicated to Pete's couch. It's an amusing little ad in which three reefer-mad friends sit on "Pete's couch" with their eyes glazed over as one of them talks about nothing dangerous happened, and how the real world is more exciting. Then Pete's couch transports them the woods, then a basketball, court, an ice rink...Pete must be the son of Mrs. Frizzle with his magic couch. If getting high means apparating into a movie theater, pass it to me!
The final type of commercial appeals to sympathetic, soap opera fans everywhere. These are the ones that focus on how pot affects people second-handedly. These are the stories that stick. The little brother who is waiting for older brother to play with him, the grandmother who made food for her grandson, and waits for her pothead grandson—all of these genuinely make good commercials, although a tad cheesy. These, however, are not seen as often. Perhaps the potheads that need to be reformed are very self-centered.
In the end, these commercials are the most cinematically pleasing. However, the message is lost in the stories crafted. I find myself caring more about the grandmother, than about the pothead grandson. Rather than telling Mr. Mary Jane to reform his ways, I want to tell his grandmother to give up on him. Maybe I’m just a pessimist.
Anti-Tobacco
The anti-tobacco commercials are much more simple. These have always revolved around people making a statement in the middle of Any City, USA. These are universally statement-oriented. These are the commercials that look like they were filmed on a hand-held camcorder by a high school SADD club. But more recently, they became flashier, and therefore they leave room to evaluate old-school commercials, and new-school commercials.
The old commercials went something like this: person on megaphone talks to stunned crowd in some undistinguishable city. They speak of lies spouted by evil Big Tobacco, while their comrades do something shocking, like filling the rode with dead bodies, or having a person sing who has a hole in their neck. It’s very Cloverfield-esque. You are meant to be shocked and horrified by the evils of tobacco and smoking. You then go get a nicotine patch, regardless of whether you used tobacco or not.
The new commercials are now so ironic that it is ridiculous. They mean to be, however. These commercials usually begin the same way. Two people, in the years during college when they must be promoting some movement, set up some tobacco demonstration. And then with little warning, they second-guess the facts they spout about the lies of Big Tobacco. Cartoon characters pop up, and they start singing. If Enchanted didn’t elaborate non-Pixar Disney’s comeback, these commercials do. People singing about typos in regard to the number of tobacco-related deaths…that’s sheer brilliance. But in the end I find myself remembering this:
And not this:
HIV Awareness
These commercials are always the same. They always show information on screen. In questions, facts, or anecdotes, they somehow display a message of safe sex. Sometimes they have people talking—some of the most attractive HIV-infected people that live. Occasionally Africa is mentioned, but more often then not they are just trying to get Americans to wear condoms. They aren’t showy. There is no story, and sadly no unicorns. But I find myself listening more. These commercials may also be more effective because they are more controversial. And let’s face it, if they are a person who smokes pot, chews tobacco, and has sex without condoms—which commercial will they actually listen to? These. Why? Well, let’s see. They are addicted to cigarettes, they probably like pot a lot, and these commercials actually make sense. The lack of grandmas and unicorns wins.
But in the end, which commercial do I want to see? This one.
Welcome to the precedent for our “HOT” segment. Did you know Alexander Hamilton set the precedent for the Secretary of Treasury? Good lord, I hope you did.
Now, whom have we deemed worthy of copulation? Joel Stein. He, the hottie of Time Magazine, whose columns often draw the angriest letters. He, the hottie who actually takes up space in well-respected publications talking about his own insecurities and the first time he got high. He, the hottie who could get away with a mullet in his teens.
For serious.
You might have seen him as a talking head on VH1’s I Love the 80s, or 90s, or whatever else VH1 tells him to love. Perhaps you caught his episode of Bill Maher- it’s the same one where Mr. Maher gets heckled. After Bill (another future hottie of the week) physically kicks the detractor out, our witty object of lust simply says:
“Its OK, I only brought one guest.”
Continuing in his grand adorable quest, when another heckler pops up, Joel Stein quips:
“That one’s not mine.”
See why we’re in love? And here’s another picture of this fine hunka-hunka man. Look, he likes babies!
And here’s where it gets better.
Joel Stein once had his own TV show, ‘Hey Joel.’ That was animated. Where he interviewed celebrities. That’s theme song was sung by the amazing band, Fountains of Wayne.And it only aired in Canada.
Here is a portion of our favorite piece by him, in which Joel eats a pot brownie. You’re welcome.
Coming Clean About My Drug History
I can’t wait to get into harder drugs. it used to be when I saw those ads where the guy talks about how heroin made him not care about his family, food or sex, I was sad. Now all I can think is, “How have I allowed myself to be fooled by this mirage of family, food and sex? Hook me up with some of that juicy heroin goodness!”
Until last weekend I had never tried any illegal drugs. This was a source of embarrassment, knowing that people I considered far less cool than I, people who were my parents, had at least smoked pot. So when I found out that George W. Bush, a man who likes only the Beatles albums that came before Sergeant Pepper, had hinted that he’d done drugs, I knew I had to loosen up. Bush said he hadn’t done any drugs since at least 15 years before his father’s Inauguration, which means he couldn’t have been older than 28 when he last got experienced. That’s how old I am. If I ever hoped to run for office, this was my last chance.
Fortuitously, I had lent my apartment in New York to my friend Lani, who has access to a garden in California. Aware of my Clintonesque refusal to inhale anything, Lani has been offering to make me pot brownies since high school. When I returned to my apartment, there was a thank-you note and a baked good.
Getting stoned wasn’t that exciting. Sure, I felt a little tougher, picturing myself with long hair, skipping classes, listening to Rush and slamming fudge-nut brownies, but the main thing I felt was confusion. I had defined myself as the guy who never used pot, and now I didn’t have that lazy sense of identity. But I’m not nervous about spiraling into harder drugs, wandering through Tompkins Square Park jonesing for a fix. Not unless there’s a pusher with a good recipe for cocaine Rice Krispies Treats.
You can read more of his fun, fun stuff at www.thejoelstein.com.
Also, here are the lyrics for ‘Hey Joel’ by Fountains of Wayne.
This is a show about a Jewish guy named Joel stein In real life he writes for a magazine called time But now he has his own cartoon show on VH1 In which he works for a TV show, a made-up one But even though the show has a standard sitcom feel All the interviews of famous people are for real Joel likes to ask ‘em questions that’ll make ‘em squirm Sometimes he gets punched out Joel never learns Hey Joel What do ya know? Ya got your own show Try not to blow it ‘Cause if you’re not funny then you’ll soon be gone And they can fill the time with more Lenny Kravitz songs Then you’ll be in obscurity where you belong Hey Joel
