Rickrolling

Am I the only one that is still annoyed that magazines haven't given up trying to convince us that Britney Spears is still HOT? After her career and mental state took a nosedive, it just doesn’t matter how many packs of abs she has. She’s just a mom to those KFed kids. Those Toxic days are over.

Does she not look like a drag queen that plays Brit in a cabaret show? It’s her face. It’s lost its innocence and has taken on a harder edge. I haven't been keeping up with her comeback but her new music video is the worst! She’s flashing her boobs to unsuspecting pedestrians, winking at CHILDREN, and getting patted down by a hot cop. We GET it; you want people to think you still got it! Oh, and you are just sooo rebellious wearing that T-shirt with a skull wearing Mickey ears! You're almost 30, grow up!

Breathe…and to think all this started because I was surfing YouTube. I was so disappointed. It was one terrible “music” video after another. If the dancing was great, then the song was bad. If the song was ok, the story was dreadful. Maybe I’m just missing the political message underlining Lady Gaga’s video but I don’t understand the concept. Katy Perry’s video, despite a cameo by Kenny G, Hanson, and many others, was just awkward.

What’s happened to music videos? Pop-Up Videos would tear these things to pieces with their angry yet hilarious thought bubbles. And where did all this product placement come from? At times, I wonder if I’m just watching a Super Bowl length VW commercial.

And one last note: the dancing in the videos…why so angry? The dancers are break dancing for their lives! No smiling, no soft movements. Everything is so hard and heavy footed! I miss the smooth group dances of the Mickey Mouse Club graduates… Yea, I said it! I hate that the simplicity is gone and there is just way too much Vaseline on these half naked bodies. Ick! I had to watch kittens falling asleep and a puppy that can't quite roll over just to get that bad taste out of my mouth.

I need a music video that makes me want to dance with a smile on my face, where have those videos gone… Oh, on YouTube.

Kick Off

Amongst status updates about growing babies, politics, and class work are over punctuated squeals of excitement over the start of football season.

You know my love/hate relationship with football season and the crowds it brings. I’m still upset that I never got to enjoy tailgating because I was always working. When I wasn’t working, I didn’t want to deal with the traffic and the drunks. For some reason, I couldn’t get drunk enough to enjoy the rowdiness that goes on. But football season is a major moneymaker. It’s hard work but it pays off. I always chose money over football/hangovers. Now, I have an urge to make different kinds of dips, get bags of Tostitos, and throw together a big pitcher of Sangria.

For the first time being away from it all, I actually feel like I’m missing out. I miss seeing the invasion of the new freshmen that try to look “less” like freshmen but their ’03 Greek Shirts give them away. I’m going to miss carding these children and confiscating fake IDs: “Don’t try to tell me you don’t have a credit card with your NAME on it! You’re not cute enough to have ALL your drinks covered for the night.” I’m going to miss the sorority girls with last names for first names like Sloan or Mackenzie. And the frat guys with first names that are even more…like last names.

I wonder what the artsy, hipster kids are wearing these days? I wonder if the guys turned in their skinny jeans for tights yet. I hope they flood the bars and tip the bartenders well for their $1 PBR and Rumple shots. The songs from the bands that the townies have heard over and over will be fresh for their young virgin ears. Since they can’t buy the band drinks, they’ll offer a cig and a light. They will congregate outside of the bar and smoke as they roll up the sleeves of their thrift store plaid shirts. “Who’s having a late night?” “The cook sittin’ at the bar said we could go to his place if we bring the beer.”

Sigh…I’m going to miss it all, sort of.