So I plan to take my daughter back to Vegas in the next few months and remembered a review rant I placed somewhere. I dragged it out of the dung heap just for you! If you want to stay downtown, go to the Golden Nugget. You can stay in the older part for a decent price. It's still classy just not trendy. The facilities are top rate. Best thing? It's the opposite of the Plaza-it's clean, secure and the service is great. You don't feel like you're in a real life mafia scene from the '50s.
Review of the Plaza
1 main Street
Las Vegas, NV
Imagine how bad a place must be if you don’t want to stay there even if it’s FREE! That is exactly what happened to me at the Plaza Hotel after my last trip to Las Vegas. After two days and four room changes, I escaped the dilapidated property.
I couldn’t afford to do it, but no air conditioning, a dirty room, a roll-a-way bed as the only bed in the room and not feeling safe due to the shady characters roaming the upper floor hotel hallways, can make you opt for a different room in exchange for a few hours sleep!
The first time we stayed at the Plaza 1995, the hotel room was dated but clean. The price was cheap and the service so-so. After our initial stay, we got offers for discount rates and took advantage of the offers on several occasions. Over the years it was easy to see a decline in the quality of the rooms. It went from an old place with some character to an old place with old stained carpet and crappy service. Ranging from faded thin bedding, to no water pressure and hard poor quality mattresses, the amenities at this place got less and less appealing.
When we traveled with friends and the main purpose of the trip was to party and gamble, it seemed like an okay deal. After all, we just needed a place to sleep. Right? But even that got to the unacceptable level.
The summer of 2009 experience was my last stay at the Plaza-forever. My first clue was on check in. They didn’t have a non-smoking room for me even though I booked several weeks in advance. After talking to a manager to get the right room choice, I got a room key, tromped over to the other tower–a major inconvenience as the front desk only has access to the north tower, rode up the elevator which reeked with fresh urine stains, entered the room ready to collapse and-viola!No air conditioning. It was over 100 degrees so the ninth floor room was miserable. I called the desk and they said someone would be up to fix it. After 20 minutes of sweating, I took my B.O. down to the desk.
One person told me the repairman was on break. After another half an hour someone called and said the air conditioner couldn’t be fixed. It was a miserable experience and no one seemed to know what was going on. It took almost three hours after I checked in to get another room.
For the next room assignment, a bellman helped me move to another room. He was told to make sure it was satisfactory so we both laughed when he opened the room door to find the bed unmade, a garbage can tipped over and beer bottles scattered around the room.
So, you get the idea. It was a joke. The manager assured me they were still in the process of remodeling and that was why there was confusion. Then he upgraded me to a mini-suite in the north tower. That so-called upgrade was another fiasco. The room featured a small bar and little refrigerator so that justified the suite title, evidently. However, there was only a lumpy double roll-a-way bed that I couldn’t sleep on even after a few cocktails! The 19 inch TV in the room featured lines on the screen and loud static. I waited until the next day to ask to be moved.
The next room was back in the South Tower which has direct access across the side alley to the bus station. I have nothing against transient people hanging out there, but I’d rather not have them lurking in the halls and stairwells on the upper floors of the hotel. The lack of security at the hotel was more than a little scary. After hearing loud profanities and a few crashing sounds, a peeked out the door to glimpse at FIP (fight in progress) and ducked back into my dungeon. Stepping over the broken glass and blood a couple hours later, I got the heck out of that dive and don’t plan to go back. We went from free to $39 a night at the Golden Nugget. The $39 difference felt more like homeless in the ally vs comfortable in the penthouse.
Keep in mind that my opinion is not based on a one-time experience. We’ve stayed at the Plaza at least 20 times over the past 15 years. It is simply going downhill fast and attracting questionable clientele. A remodel won’t fix some of the problems that come with a shabby reputation.
Tuesday, March 30
Wednesday, March 10
No poop in there! Sorry predictable girls
I know it was girl’s night on American Idol. But, it seemed kinda blah with a few exceptions. Ryan still tried to be smooth, Simon tried to portray put-offish, Ellen tried to be funny, Kara tried to look competent and Randy… well, and Randy is Randy. In not-my-usual-verbose style, I’ll give ya the scoop. Crystal is still the chick to beat. She sounded like a rock star singing a Tracy Chapman song. Siobhan and Lilly were solid, Lacy and Didi okay, Paige and Katie not okay. That leaves Katelyn who was totally boring but she represents so we gotta hope she stays around. Simon though Didi was grand. Not me. Simon thought Lilly wasn’t so grand. Not me. So, if Lilly goes does that mean Simon is smarter than me? Nope. That means he used his bully power to subliminally reach callers. Money is powerful, people.
The REAL story of the night regarding entertainment is not available to record for later viewing. That, of course, is my granddaughter’s fascination/obsession with caca. The Spanish word just sounds more pleasant. You know, poop. Tonight’s adventure started with the usual question.
“Poop in dare, poo-poo in dare?” she appears to honestly be unaware of the wretched sour smell leaking out of her diaper.
“Yup, poop in there. We should sit on the potty like Elmo does, huh?” as I hold back on the gag reflex.
“No kank Q, Gaga,” she gave as a nonchalant reply.
And who can argue with that? But it did remind Gaga of last week’s poop in dare episodes . . . now we’re talking entertainment.
She bounced in bubbly as usual with Papa closely following. Looking around for a cat to chase, Papa mentioned he thought he smelled “something” in the car.
“Anna, do we need to change your pants?” as he reaches under her arms to lift her up.
“No kank Q, Papa. Anna tooted.”
Then I noticed Papa Mark’s face turn pale and his eyes glazed over a bit. He held her in the air like she was a leper with fresh sores. “Gaga, what is that? OMG is that a turd? “
I wanted to say something like, Duh, Einstein don’t you know crap when you see it? but I could see he was on the verge of trauma so I went for the more sensitive response of, “No, not a turd. It’s too soft and runny. It’s more like a pile of steamy fresh poop.”
By then Anna was protesting with , “No poo-poo, Anna tooted. No poo-poo in dare!” And, Mark still looked stunned just standing there like some act of God would come to his rescue or Barbara Eden would rush in and twitch her nose . . . I don’t know what he expected.
Attempting to stay composed and help the tooting girl stay calm, I suggest, “Well, let’s change her.”
Too late, Ethel. Mark’s drama made the no poo-poo girl flail around a bit as he stood her on the carpet.
As soon as those cute brown suede boots touched the floor, more Papa drama happened. “Is that . . . there’s sh** on her shoe . . . OMG look on her pants . . .”
Uh, oh. He just said the ‘s’ word. He was so over-the-top drama queen, slap-me-across-the-face-to-regain –my-senses that I opted for the cold stone gaze and sternly barked, “Take her in on the bed and we will change her.” Again, not my first choice of words. But, we try to be pleasant and not curse or yell in front of the grandchild.
I ran (okay hobbled fast) into the bathroom grabbing a large towel, and threw it on top the bed. Mark reverted to the dumb act just holding her away from his body uttering a few syllables, “but . . . wh . . . bu”
I took the child and pulled off her pants. Mark stared at me, at the child, at the bed, at the poop. He was either in a trance or paralyzed by poop. I mentioned that he might want to consider helping me as one poop-lined pant leg rolled off. When I hissed, “Papa Mark please hand me the wipes,” he seemed to snap back to present time but he went straight to near hysteria with, “We’re out of wipes, we don’t have wipes . . .”
Shifting to a more realistic goal, I soothed Anna with, “It’s okay. Gaga will get you all cleaned up.” I pointed at the bed and told Mark to stay. As I waited for warm water I glanced through the bathroom door wondering which person looked more helpless. As I wiped and rinsed, wiped and rinsed and repeated as needed, I explained that packaged diaper wipes weren’t around back in the old days and wash clothes were commonly used for poopy butts. “Do you throw it away, then?”
Shoot. One explosive diarrhea-combined-with-pasty-black-stool episode caused a college-educated man to lose touch with reality.
With a happy Anna (no poo-poo in dare now) I instructed the usually wise Papa to finish dressing her. Then I spread the towel on the bed picked up poop pants, a more brown than pink sock, a wettish undershirt, a soiled sweatshirt, a little brown boot with chocolate-colored smudges on white fur lining from floor. I rolled it all into a big towel mass, stomped through the living room, opened the back door and promptly tossed the ball of poop clothes into the garage.
A king-sized comforter and a few other suspect items required removal. But, after a couple bottles of air freshener, a can of carpet cleaner, a change of clothes, and fresh bedding, the damage seemed minimal—until the next Anna tooted event.
In the meantime, I hope Mark watches Forest Gump and works on his poop phobia.
The REAL story of the night regarding entertainment is not available to record for later viewing. That, of course, is my granddaughter’s fascination/obsession with caca. The Spanish word just sounds more pleasant. You know, poop. Tonight’s adventure started with the usual question.
“Poop in dare, poo-poo in dare?” she appears to honestly be unaware of the wretched sour smell leaking out of her diaper.
“Yup, poop in there. We should sit on the potty like Elmo does, huh?” as I hold back on the gag reflex.
“No kank Q, Gaga,” she gave as a nonchalant reply.
And who can argue with that? But it did remind Gaga of last week’s poop in dare episodes . . . now we’re talking entertainment.
She bounced in bubbly as usual with Papa closely following. Looking around for a cat to chase, Papa mentioned he thought he smelled “something” in the car.
“Anna, do we need to change your pants?” as he reaches under her arms to lift her up.
“No kank Q, Papa. Anna tooted.”
Then I noticed Papa Mark’s face turn pale and his eyes glazed over a bit. He held her in the air like she was a leper with fresh sores. “Gaga, what is that? OMG is that a turd? “
I wanted to say something like, Duh, Einstein don’t you know crap when you see it? but I could see he was on the verge of trauma so I went for the more sensitive response of, “No, not a turd. It’s too soft and runny. It’s more like a pile of steamy fresh poop.”
By then Anna was protesting with , “No poo-poo, Anna tooted. No poo-poo in dare!” And, Mark still looked stunned just standing there like some act of God would come to his rescue or Barbara Eden would rush in and twitch her nose . . . I don’t know what he expected.
Attempting to stay composed and help the tooting girl stay calm, I suggest, “Well, let’s change her.”
Too late, Ethel. Mark’s drama made the no poo-poo girl flail around a bit as he stood her on the carpet.
As soon as those cute brown suede boots touched the floor, more Papa drama happened. “Is that . . . there’s sh** on her shoe . . . OMG look on her pants . . .”
Uh, oh. He just said the ‘s’ word. He was so over-the-top drama queen, slap-me-across-the-face-to-regain –my-senses that I opted for the cold stone gaze and sternly barked, “Take her in on the bed and we will change her.” Again, not my first choice of words. But, we try to be pleasant and not curse or yell in front of the grandchild.
I ran (okay hobbled fast) into the bathroom grabbing a large towel, and threw it on top the bed. Mark reverted to the dumb act just holding her away from his body uttering a few syllables, “but . . . wh . . . bu”
I took the child and pulled off her pants. Mark stared at me, at the child, at the bed, at the poop. He was either in a trance or paralyzed by poop. I mentioned that he might want to consider helping me as one poop-lined pant leg rolled off. When I hissed, “Papa Mark please hand me the wipes,” he seemed to snap back to present time but he went straight to near hysteria with, “We’re out of wipes, we don’t have wipes . . .”
Shifting to a more realistic goal, I soothed Anna with, “It’s okay. Gaga will get you all cleaned up.” I pointed at the bed and told Mark to stay. As I waited for warm water I glanced through the bathroom door wondering which person looked more helpless. As I wiped and rinsed, wiped and rinsed and repeated as needed, I explained that packaged diaper wipes weren’t around back in the old days and wash clothes were commonly used for poopy butts. “Do you throw it away, then?”
Shoot. One explosive diarrhea-combined-with-pasty-black-stool episode caused a college-educated man to lose touch with reality.
With a happy Anna (no poo-poo in dare now) I instructed the usually wise Papa to finish dressing her. Then I spread the towel on the bed picked up poop pants, a more brown than pink sock, a wettish undershirt, a soiled sweatshirt, a little brown boot with chocolate-colored smudges on white fur lining from floor. I rolled it all into a big towel mass, stomped through the living room, opened the back door and promptly tossed the ball of poop clothes into the garage.
A king-sized comforter and a few other suspect items required removal. But, after a couple bottles of air freshener, a can of carpet cleaner, a change of clothes, and fresh bedding, the damage seemed minimal—until the next Anna tooted event.
In the meantime, I hope Mark watches Forest Gump and works on his poop phobia.
Wednesday, March 3
Ungroupie me
Mediocre March 2
The topsy turvy world of American Idol got just a little dizzier March 2 when the boyz took center stage. A quick switch flip-flopping the performance nights made for nerves and excuses. Poor, poor shy boy Alex Lambert confessed he often produces pukage prior to performing, but somehow he managed to hold onto his dinner for this round. (maybe his mom cooked?) Crystal (I-wonder-if-she-has-health-insurance) Bowersox checked into a hospital where she was checked by doctors who then checked in with Idol VIPs, and said No go on the show. Then, of course, they all got checks. Not the contestants who work the endless hours away from their loved ones, of course.
So, let’s review the competition for pity votes. Add 1 for Alex-he didn’t make last week’s crowded list. Mama Bowersox pushed for frontrunner status last week. Depending on tomorrow night’s performance, that trendy hospital gown could be her golden egg. Just kidding. Tomorrow’s performance doesn’t matter all that much. Even if you imagine American Idol is all about who can sing, we already know Bowersox has the gift. Think images of mama rocking skinny toddler as she softly sings an acapella lullaby-unless you count the occasional moans from pain as accompaniment. Start dialing.
Back to the big time stage for the competition with the men. Whoops. Except separating the men from the boys, the wheat from the chafe, the rind from the melon, the soap scum from the tub—pick your favorite cliché here, was not much of a challenge. Clarity can be your friend. Not that all the guys are tone deaf, only 3-4 sucked that bad, but the group just ain’t that strong.
Let’s break it down (not MC Hammer break it down, but break it down as in take a closer look). In my totally unqualified opinion there was not much middle ground. Their chops were either very very good or they were horrid (yes, like the nursery rhyme).
• 3 big improvements from last week (2 in the super-sized improvement range)
• 1 stayed about the same but was already at the top so let’s use the cliché here of no harm no foul (maybe that’s why Alex didn’t spit up-the chicken was cooked)
• 1 slight puzzler-some parts unique, some parts uniquely bad. Things that make you go Hmmm (like MC Hammer this time)
• 4 guys tanked. The tanking action wasn’t even in the category of “I see potential” it was more like “I see dead people” I see faux singers with dead careers people.
• And the 1 straggler who was just there. Not impressive. Kinda annoying due to attire and accessories. Not annoying enough to get the boot but certainly not good enough to get a vote. He is just there and gets to hang around in the shadows.
Let’s match ‘em up and see who’s with me! Fill in the blank with the correct answers.
_____ and_____ gave up super-sized upgrades from last week and _____ got even better and he was already berry berry good to me (he could play baseball but he need to give up drooping & get pants that fit). If you answered Michael Lynche and Alex Lambert, then Lee DeWyze, give yourself a cookie. Your score is perfect so far. BTW the first two names do not have to be in that exact order.
Lynche impressed the audience and judges appearing as a seasoned singer with great stage presence and poise. Evidently he visited Miracle Max. I gave him up for mostly dead, but we all know there’s a big difference between dead and mostly dead. He still doesn’t have a great voice, but we’re talkin’ total package here. Total package plus 1 pity vote. Remember he’s the one who went to Hollywood while his wife did the whole giving birth to their first child thing. He’s a keeper. But, this is as good as he gets (write down my words here, I called it).
In contrast, Lambert, scratch that. I gotta go with Alex here due to the same last name as my BFF baby cakes Adam Lambert (hot stuff on Leno tonight). The sex appeal is a bit flat for the new Lambert. But, his voice was hot and the song worked for him. Recap: no deer in the headlights eyes, no pukage, no dashing around lost on stage for Alex. He sat on a stool and held a guitar in his hands resolving the problem of what to do with his hands and feet. He definitely knew what to do with his voice. Yahoo for you Alex! Top o’ the heap and throw in that pity ballot. Solid ground for the boy with potential but no experience. For a gullible second there I thought, Hey that’s what the show is all about, then I sobered up and figured out he’s not as polished as the others who were plucked from the street of regular Joe’s too-the street with the pro giving vocal lessons on the corner as opposed to pros on other street corners. He’s bonified.
DeWyze’s gravelly voice was a perfect fit for that great I’m-not-a-monogamous-creature anthem, Lips of an Angel. He tried to man up without his teddy bear (aka as his guitar) and replace it with a cold microphone stand. That part didn’t work out so much. He can stand in one place and sing into the mic deplete of dance moves. That’s all good. Tugging up on his drawers, however-not once but twice, is not all good. Just when I thought “No he didn’t” Yup. He did it again. Plus he’s handicapped due to NO pity points. A rarity and we can double or triple check. But I don’t think he has a sob story penned at this time.
Casey James still oozed sex appeal and gravelly notes onto the stage. Not as good as last week. But better than most of the other guys this week. He looked good, sound good and was kinda believable as a bad boy with his baby blue electric guitar. It complemented his blue eyes yet didn’t take attention away his rock solid performance and rock solid exterior mass. His pity vote status is pending further review.
The remaining contender remains high on the pity vote tally due to daddy daycare is Andrew Garcia. Probably tried a bit too hard to on a Jim Morrison song, but hey he doesn’t need to break a sweat yet.
The remaining vocals sounded like they’d benefit from karaoke class and really aren’t worth the strain on my digits to write about them.
Todrick Hall? NO, NO! It’s not there. Go home.
John Park? Ditto.
Tim Urban? Double ditto.
Aaron Kelly? Go back to your high school classes, please. Actually, AI could save a couple $$ on food and shelter costs and send the four of ‘em off with one farewell.
Jermaine Sellers? Straggler. Mediocre but kind of just lurking around. On second thought, nope. Give him up. Trade him for two Zhu Zhu pets and a Funhouse and wave bu-bye.
The judges? All four seemed less than entertaining tonight with lots of redundant comments they kept saying over and over (too cute). Really guys. Buy a thesaurus or consult with a dictionary. Find some new words. Wrong song, pitchy, and I’m a fan already sound like a telemarketer recording. I’d vote off the judges this week and start with the blank slate theory with five men and a bedpan (just in case the heaves visit again). Too predictable and unoriginal. Ellen wasn’t close to funny; the banana joke was pre-school level. Kara kept turning to Simon like an obedient domestic pet. Simon’s new love interest has obviously tamed the nasty beast within. Now he is a kinder gentler Simon and Randy . . . well, he’s still just Randy. Dawg.
Tomorrow night the girls close in for the kill. And did I say it’s stupid to pick girl/boy, girl/boy? Boot the lowest vote getters regardless of genitalia. That’s so 70’s mentality politically incorrect malarkey.
The topsy turvy world of American Idol got just a little dizzier March 2 when the boyz took center stage. A quick switch flip-flopping the performance nights made for nerves and excuses. Poor, poor shy boy Alex Lambert confessed he often produces pukage prior to performing, but somehow he managed to hold onto his dinner for this round. (maybe his mom cooked?) Crystal (I-wonder-if-she-has-health-insurance) Bowersox checked into a hospital where she was checked by doctors who then checked in with Idol VIPs, and said No go on the show. Then, of course, they all got checks. Not the contestants who work the endless hours away from their loved ones, of course.
So, let’s review the competition for pity votes. Add 1 for Alex-he didn’t make last week’s crowded list. Mama Bowersox pushed for frontrunner status last week. Depending on tomorrow night’s performance, that trendy hospital gown could be her golden egg. Just kidding. Tomorrow’s performance doesn’t matter all that much. Even if you imagine American Idol is all about who can sing, we already know Bowersox has the gift. Think images of mama rocking skinny toddler as she softly sings an acapella lullaby-unless you count the occasional moans from pain as accompaniment. Start dialing.
Back to the big time stage for the competition with the men. Whoops. Except separating the men from the boys, the wheat from the chafe, the rind from the melon, the soap scum from the tub—pick your favorite cliché here, was not much of a challenge. Clarity can be your friend. Not that all the guys are tone deaf, only 3-4 sucked that bad, but the group just ain’t that strong.
Let’s break it down (not MC Hammer break it down, but break it down as in take a closer look). In my totally unqualified opinion there was not much middle ground. Their chops were either very very good or they were horrid (yes, like the nursery rhyme).
• 3 big improvements from last week (2 in the super-sized improvement range)
• 1 stayed about the same but was already at the top so let’s use the cliché here of no harm no foul (maybe that’s why Alex didn’t spit up-the chicken was cooked)
• 1 slight puzzler-some parts unique, some parts uniquely bad. Things that make you go Hmmm (like MC Hammer this time)
• 4 guys tanked. The tanking action wasn’t even in the category of “I see potential” it was more like “I see dead people” I see faux singers with dead careers people.
• And the 1 straggler who was just there. Not impressive. Kinda annoying due to attire and accessories. Not annoying enough to get the boot but certainly not good enough to get a vote. He is just there and gets to hang around in the shadows.
Let’s match ‘em up and see who’s with me! Fill in the blank with the correct answers.
_____ and_____ gave up super-sized upgrades from last week and _____ got even better and he was already berry berry good to me (he could play baseball but he need to give up drooping & get pants that fit). If you answered Michael Lynche and Alex Lambert, then Lee DeWyze, give yourself a cookie. Your score is perfect so far. BTW the first two names do not have to be in that exact order.
Lynche impressed the audience and judges appearing as a seasoned singer with great stage presence and poise. Evidently he visited Miracle Max. I gave him up for mostly dead, but we all know there’s a big difference between dead and mostly dead. He still doesn’t have a great voice, but we’re talkin’ total package here. Total package plus 1 pity vote. Remember he’s the one who went to Hollywood while his wife did the whole giving birth to their first child thing. He’s a keeper. But, this is as good as he gets (write down my words here, I called it).
In contrast, Lambert, scratch that. I gotta go with Alex here due to the same last name as my BFF baby cakes Adam Lambert (hot stuff on Leno tonight). The sex appeal is a bit flat for the new Lambert. But, his voice was hot and the song worked for him. Recap: no deer in the headlights eyes, no pukage, no dashing around lost on stage for Alex. He sat on a stool and held a guitar in his hands resolving the problem of what to do with his hands and feet. He definitely knew what to do with his voice. Yahoo for you Alex! Top o’ the heap and throw in that pity ballot. Solid ground for the boy with potential but no experience. For a gullible second there I thought, Hey that’s what the show is all about, then I sobered up and figured out he’s not as polished as the others who were plucked from the street of regular Joe’s too-the street with the pro giving vocal lessons on the corner as opposed to pros on other street corners. He’s bonified.
DeWyze’s gravelly voice was a perfect fit for that great I’m-not-a-monogamous-creature anthem, Lips of an Angel. He tried to man up without his teddy bear (aka as his guitar) and replace it with a cold microphone stand. That part didn’t work out so much. He can stand in one place and sing into the mic deplete of dance moves. That’s all good. Tugging up on his drawers, however-not once but twice, is not all good. Just when I thought “No he didn’t” Yup. He did it again. Plus he’s handicapped due to NO pity points. A rarity and we can double or triple check. But I don’t think he has a sob story penned at this time.
Casey James still oozed sex appeal and gravelly notes onto the stage. Not as good as last week. But better than most of the other guys this week. He looked good, sound good and was kinda believable as a bad boy with his baby blue electric guitar. It complemented his blue eyes yet didn’t take attention away his rock solid performance and rock solid exterior mass. His pity vote status is pending further review.
The remaining contender remains high on the pity vote tally due to daddy daycare is Andrew Garcia. Probably tried a bit too hard to on a Jim Morrison song, but hey he doesn’t need to break a sweat yet.
The remaining vocals sounded like they’d benefit from karaoke class and really aren’t worth the strain on my digits to write about them.
Todrick Hall? NO, NO! It’s not there. Go home.
John Park? Ditto.
Tim Urban? Double ditto.
Aaron Kelly? Go back to your high school classes, please. Actually, AI could save a couple $$ on food and shelter costs and send the four of ‘em off with one farewell.
Jermaine Sellers? Straggler. Mediocre but kind of just lurking around. On second thought, nope. Give him up. Trade him for two Zhu Zhu pets and a Funhouse and wave bu-bye.
The judges? All four seemed less than entertaining tonight with lots of redundant comments they kept saying over and over (too cute). Really guys. Buy a thesaurus or consult with a dictionary. Find some new words. Wrong song, pitchy, and I’m a fan already sound like a telemarketer recording. I’d vote off the judges this week and start with the blank slate theory with five men and a bedpan (just in case the heaves visit again). Too predictable and unoriginal. Ellen wasn’t close to funny; the banana joke was pre-school level. Kara kept turning to Simon like an obedient domestic pet. Simon’s new love interest has obviously tamed the nasty beast within. Now he is a kinder gentler Simon and Randy . . . well, he’s still just Randy. Dawg.
Tomorrow night the girls close in for the kill. And did I say it’s stupid to pick girl/boy, girl/boy? Boot the lowest vote getters regardless of genitalia. That’s so 70’s mentality politically incorrect malarkey.
Tuesday, March 2
Another Colbert Nation groupie at Olympics
http://www.helium.com/users/506462/show_articles
http://celebrities.helium.com/how-to/9236-how-to-become-part-of-the-colbert-nati
Just another lesson in how/why we shouldn't take life so seriously. PLUS, a reminder of funny Canadian 'stuff' like take off hoser and let's watch Strange Brew again, eh? Ah, the Great White North.
So after I watched Stephen Colbert crawl into the fireplace (to show how "real" NBC makes the set) during an interview with Bob Costas, I'd say he's added another element to Olympic viewing. He definitely got lots of attention for the speed skating team that they would not have enjoyed without Colbert's sponsorship. Of course, the funny video of the interview has been copyright claimed by the Olympics. For now anyway, all uploads of the video seem to be off limits. Log in to www.colbertnation.com to watch shows featuring some of the Olympic medal winners and all of his hilarious Vancouver broadcasts.
From talking Bob Costas into riding a stuffed moose to accusing the Canadians of cheating and calling them out as "syrup suckers" Colbert's antics made the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics much more fun to watch. Yes, we tune in to see great athletes. Yes, I love to see dreams come true and all that fluffy stuff. But, I also really love it when a pretend sportscaster sings the national anthem(s) with a famed Canadian singer, or offers a beer to a medal winner or proclaims himself "assistant team psychologist" and proceeds to show viewers how he motivated these great athletes to capture medals. For the most part, the athletes seemed good natured. After all, Colbert served as primary sponsor prompting his loyal followers in the Colbert Nation to donate over $350,000 to the U.S. speed skating team. Even the previously disgruntled Shani Davis eventually came around and fended off Colbert in a skating "challenge". Record setting medalist Apolo Anton Ohno said he loves The Colbert Report and followed up with an appearance. Good answer! Merging the popularity of Ohno and Colbert could be so hot viewers might be tempted to miss viewing some shallow show- hmmm, (which one shall I pick?) like the Bachelor or Bachelorette.
Colbert, through his narrow-minded conservative character, does a great job of underscoring problems in politics, in society, with bears . . . pretty much all things important. Viewing The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and The Colbert Report not only gives me a great daily dose of laughter (it's good for you to laugh, you know) but viewers get a good idea as to what's going on in the world. It's ironic-don't you think, that they often give a better picture of the news than supposed REAL news shows (like FOX-aka faux news). At least Comedy Central fake news is presented as such! But, that's a rant for another time.
Check out these Colbert articles and links to links: http://www.helium.com/zones/preview/9236
Stay tuned for The Biggest Loser! The show returns from a break due to Olympic cover. Yes, I am a groupie but it's all good. Maybe I will lose a few ounces or become inspired to eat a healthy meal. Stranger things have happened so stop laughing!
There's just something sooo hopeful about watching a 500lb guy workout and lose weight while I sit on the couch and enjoy my bushel of buttered popcorn, thinking how I will start my diet tomorrow.
http://celebrities.helium.com/how-to/9236-how-to-become-part-of-the-colbert-nati
Just another lesson in how/why we shouldn't take life so seriously. PLUS, a reminder of funny Canadian 'stuff' like take off hoser and let's watch Strange Brew again, eh? Ah, the Great White North.
So after I watched Stephen Colbert crawl into the fireplace (to show how "real" NBC makes the set) during an interview with Bob Costas, I'd say he's added another element to Olympic viewing. He definitely got lots of attention for the speed skating team that they would not have enjoyed without Colbert's sponsorship. Of course, the funny video of the interview has been copyright claimed by the Olympics. For now anyway, all uploads of the video seem to be off limits. Log in to www.colbertnation.com to watch shows featuring some of the Olympic medal winners and all of his hilarious Vancouver broadcasts.
From talking Bob Costas into riding a stuffed moose to accusing the Canadians of cheating and calling them out as "syrup suckers" Colbert's antics made the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics much more fun to watch. Yes, we tune in to see great athletes. Yes, I love to see dreams come true and all that fluffy stuff. But, I also really love it when a pretend sportscaster sings the national anthem(s) with a famed Canadian singer, or offers a beer to a medal winner or proclaims himself "assistant team psychologist" and proceeds to show viewers how he motivated these great athletes to capture medals. For the most part, the athletes seemed good natured. After all, Colbert served as primary sponsor prompting his loyal followers in the Colbert Nation to donate over $350,000 to the U.S. speed skating team. Even the previously disgruntled Shani Davis eventually came around and fended off Colbert in a skating "challenge". Record setting medalist Apolo Anton Ohno said he loves The Colbert Report and followed up with an appearance. Good answer! Merging the popularity of Ohno and Colbert could be so hot viewers might be tempted to miss viewing some shallow show- hmmm, (which one shall I pick?) like the Bachelor or Bachelorette.
Colbert, through his narrow-minded conservative character, does a great job of underscoring problems in politics, in society, with bears . . . pretty much all things important. Viewing The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and The Colbert Report not only gives me a great daily dose of laughter (it's good for you to laugh, you know) but viewers get a good idea as to what's going on in the world. It's ironic-don't you think, that they often give a better picture of the news than supposed REAL news shows (like FOX-aka faux news). At least Comedy Central fake news is presented as such! But, that's a rant for another time.
Check out these Colbert articles and links to links: http://www.helium.com/zones/preview/9236
Stay tuned for The Biggest Loser! The show returns from a break due to Olympic cover. Yes, I am a groupie but it's all good. Maybe I will lose a few ounces or become inspired to eat a healthy meal. Stranger things have happened so stop laughing!
There's just something sooo hopeful about watching a 500lb guy workout and lose weight while I sit on the couch and enjoy my bushel of buttered popcorn, thinking how I will start my diet tomorrow.
Saturday, February 27
American Idol groupie
Some people are really confused when it comes to groupies. No, you don't need to be some good looking hot young thing to be a groupie. It doesn't ALWAYS mean groupie- as in hang around waiting to offer yourself up to 80's rockband has beens. I am a groupie of a short list of people/shows/stuff but I am not so hot and haven't been considered young for decades. New age groupie. That's what I am- a new age Idol groupie in the virtual world.
My groupiness today focuses on American Idol types. Yes, I was a Clay Aikin and am an Adam Lambert groupie. Groupied them PRIOR to their coming out parties, but that's nothing to me. I'm past fantasizing about that kind of relationship. I groupie them as entertainers. Adam Lambert is the hottest sexiest entertainer EVER to jump through the Idol hoops.(see www.helium.com/items/1457466-american-idol-best-performances-adam-lambert-mad-world) Actually, he would be the reigning American Idol if people in the United States could get over being anal for about one minute. I like Kris Allen but his ability to sing doesn't rank anywhere close to the range, style or performance of the person who was/is better than him. Some can't seem to separate personal limitations and allow their self-professed moral superiority to judge others. They should listen to MJ's Man in the Mirror over and over and over until they get it.
Anywho, this year's crop of Idols offers up some juicey possibilies. Yes, Kara DioGuardi
made a fool of herself over Casey James but that doesn't mean he isn't the hottest thing on the stage. But, that's not his fault. His mama probably told him to wear his shirt open. He is confident-but not too much. And sexy-in a soft way but the facial hair gives him a touch of a rugged, while the longer hairstyle looks way touchable. (breathe ej) The tiny touch of shyness/embarassment makes him that much more appealing. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. He can sing. He kinda reminds me of a hybrid version of Keith Urban, Tim McGraw and John Mayer all wrapped up in one of his golden locks with a scrunchie. (Okay I made up the John Mayer part but I wanted to throw in a non-country singer name). The third person in Casey's mix is really Bucky Covington-a much refined metrosexual version of Bucky. The hairdos, the rings and the swagger all ooze with style; plus those blue eyes could live in my contact lense case any day.
Another guy who can sing is Lee Dewyze. Love the rough smokey voice but too bad for Lee he's not as sexy as Casey. Oh, I mean too bad he's not as musically skilled as Casey. Callers made a big mistake with stupid voting on Wed. Feb. 24 for both guys and girls. But, you'll have that. I thought Tyler Grady and Joe Munoz deserved to stay. Grady=appeal to those who love 70s music (or graduated from high school during that decade) and he can sing a little while Munoz can sing a lot! Tyler's rightful time to leave shouldn't be until around final 12ish and Joe could have made it down to the last 3-4 guys. The boot should have been Tim Urban and Jermaine Sellers. I like Alex Lambert because he symbolizes the type of contestant Idol should highlight. He's not polished and all set to hit the stage because IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE AN AMATEUR COMPETITION. Also, if I were a betting woman-oh, I guess I am pretty much. Okay well, I would put money on Andrew Garcia as the guy to finish first if a guy is going to finish first. Should be big odds and not too crazy. Crazy, but I'm not talkin' like a clown crazy but more like a noncreepy normal person crazy. Aaron Kelly could get annoying fast and Big Mike (Michael Lynche) is a sweetheart but not the greatest singer. And no, this competition ISN'T about the best singer. Last year erased any doubt of that concept. Think about it people. Duh. It's a popularity contest. Pretend you are in high school again. Same concept. Haeley Vaughn hanging in for another week underscores that fact. Totally bad singing as in off key, but you know she just kept smilin' and she's so adorable (ask the judges). Guess what? Puppies are adorable too, but that doesn't mean they should be living the good life on Idol when a decent singer gets the boot.
Oh yes, speaking of the girls. Probably gonna hug Casey just to slide around him to the front of the pack. We'll see if he's got the right inside connections or if he gets used and tossed to the side. Could even be two girls in the finals. I gotta like Katelyn Epperly as soon as she irons her hair. If the 70s taught me anything it's shampoo your hair with eggs, rinse with beer then iron after it dries naturally. I suppose some idiot might singe it off and run home crying to mama, but we didn't have fancy irons in the 70s. Plus, we were smart enough to know you iron OVER the thin towel you spread over your hair. Shoot! I coulda told you it wasn't my fault even before the legal ruling. Everybody's an EJ wanna. Okay so, Katelyn can sing, but more importantly she lives in my geographic area aka Des Moines, IA. No, there isn't a cornfield in the middle of the city and yes, we do have running water and electricity. Hmmm. Now that I think of it we might be just a little ahead of some places where people think they are progressive (we don't tell adults they can't love or marry another adult) so stop the Iowa stereotypes please. Okay, true we do have a diversity of food-on-a-stick offerings at the state fair, but who doesn't? So, yes Katelyn. She'll get into the last few left standing, or singing would be a better word choice. She very sellable-as in vocally and style (don't go there). The black feather in the hair wasn't workin' too much, though.
EJ's favorite BEFORE everybody else jumped on the somebody-different bandwagon was/is Crystal Bowersox. I love that she never watched Idol on a regular basis and doesn't seem phased by all the glitz. She's pretty much for real. I doubt she sucks up to the judges, unbottons her shirt and compromises herself too much. I loved her comment about Idol not allowing original songs when a judge reminded her to be original! Of course, some compromising must take place just to make sure all the contestants are appropriately grateful and say keywords like life changing experience or I am blessed or dream of a life time, yadda, yadda, yadda. Each year the cliches become more cliche. I suppose the fact that Crystal can sing is a good touch. The harmonica is a great extra. How many times do you see the whole package? It would be nice to see a true female all-around musician win. (love Underwood and Clarkson but they don't play instruments). I don't get Crystal's dreadlocks, though. I think that's natural for some hair, but not-so-much Caucasian type hair. My daughter once had a Caucasion female friend who constantly wore dreadlocks or cornrows and the occasional dorag. I finally had to tell her she wasn't Black. Anyway, yes, I'm sayin' my main objection to the two favorites IS their hair. But, we can change that. I'll take care of it. I'll advise them to iron their hair. Then, when it gets too crispy they'll go for a trim. Viola! new hairstyles for Crystal and Katelyn! Speaking of hair, let's give some of Katelyn's curl to Lily Scott and they'd both look better. BTW I like Lily a little. It's the hair thing again. I am not crazy over white hair on young people, but I'm over it. The straight style reeks of a Cleopatra look alike; it's too stark or blunt. Also speaking of hair, why does Casey's look better than most of the girl's hair?
Now for the judges. I am a big Ellen Degeneres fan but she has yet to impress me in the world of Idol judging-too many Paulaesque comments. C'mon Ellen, you can tell the truth and coat it with humor-not Paula. And, somebody has to tell Kara DioGuardi the competition isn't about her. I sense she has a strong need to feel needed. First hint? Bikini. Simon Cowell is still the wanna-be-bad boy but gives solid advice. He's too much of a drama queen, though. He should feel like a jerk for saying things like you blew it and your career is over. Yes, he is the best judge on the panel. But, he still ain't God or some other deity. Randy Jackson is . . . Randy is Randy. He's true to himself and not too abrasive but still doesn't give unrealistic hope to those who pretty much such. The dawg thing was sickening a few years ago, but evidently no one told Randy.
Next up? Tune in for my ultra groupie experience (if that's possible with half a million other groupies) as part of the Colbert Nation as I worship all things Stephen Colbert!
My groupiness today focuses on American Idol types. Yes, I was a Clay Aikin and am an Adam Lambert groupie. Groupied them PRIOR to their coming out parties, but that's nothing to me. I'm past fantasizing about that kind of relationship. I groupie them as entertainers. Adam Lambert is the hottest sexiest entertainer EVER to jump through the Idol hoops.(see www.helium.com/items/1457466-american-idol-best-performances-adam-lambert-mad-world) Actually, he would be the reigning American Idol if people in the United States could get over being anal for about one minute. I like Kris Allen but his ability to sing doesn't rank anywhere close to the range, style or performance of the person who was/is better than him. Some can't seem to separate personal limitations and allow their self-professed moral superiority to judge others. They should listen to MJ's Man in the Mirror over and over and over until they get it.
Anywho, this year's crop of Idols offers up some juicey possibilies. Yes, Kara DioGuardi
made a fool of herself over Casey James but that doesn't mean he isn't the hottest thing on the stage. But, that's not his fault. His mama probably told him to wear his shirt open. He is confident-but not too much. And sexy-in a soft way but the facial hair gives him a touch of a rugged, while the longer hairstyle looks way touchable. (breathe ej) The tiny touch of shyness/embarassment makes him that much more appealing. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. He can sing. He kinda reminds me of a hybrid version of Keith Urban, Tim McGraw and John Mayer all wrapped up in one of his golden locks with a scrunchie. (Okay I made up the John Mayer part but I wanted to throw in a non-country singer name). The third person in Casey's mix is really Bucky Covington-a much refined metrosexual version of Bucky. The hairdos, the rings and the swagger all ooze with style; plus those blue eyes could live in my contact lense case any day.
Another guy who can sing is Lee Dewyze. Love the rough smokey voice but too bad for Lee he's not as sexy as Casey. Oh, I mean too bad he's not as musically skilled as Casey. Callers made a big mistake with stupid voting on Wed. Feb. 24 for both guys and girls. But, you'll have that. I thought Tyler Grady and Joe Munoz deserved to stay. Grady=appeal to those who love 70s music (or graduated from high school during that decade) and he can sing a little while Munoz can sing a lot! Tyler's rightful time to leave shouldn't be until around final 12ish and Joe could have made it down to the last 3-4 guys. The boot should have been Tim Urban and Jermaine Sellers. I like Alex Lambert because he symbolizes the type of contestant Idol should highlight. He's not polished and all set to hit the stage because IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE AN AMATEUR COMPETITION. Also, if I were a betting woman-oh, I guess I am pretty much. Okay well, I would put money on Andrew Garcia as the guy to finish first if a guy is going to finish first. Should be big odds and not too crazy. Crazy, but I'm not talkin' like a clown crazy but more like a noncreepy normal person crazy. Aaron Kelly could get annoying fast and Big Mike (Michael Lynche) is a sweetheart but not the greatest singer. And no, this competition ISN'T about the best singer. Last year erased any doubt of that concept. Think about it people. Duh. It's a popularity contest. Pretend you are in high school again. Same concept. Haeley Vaughn hanging in for another week underscores that fact. Totally bad singing as in off key, but you know she just kept smilin' and she's so adorable (ask the judges). Guess what? Puppies are adorable too, but that doesn't mean they should be living the good life on Idol when a decent singer gets the boot.
Oh yes, speaking of the girls. Probably gonna hug Casey just to slide around him to the front of the pack. We'll see if he's got the right inside connections or if he gets used and tossed to the side. Could even be two girls in the finals. I gotta like Katelyn Epperly as soon as she irons her hair. If the 70s taught me anything it's shampoo your hair with eggs, rinse with beer then iron after it dries naturally. I suppose some idiot might singe it off and run home crying to mama, but we didn't have fancy irons in the 70s. Plus, we were smart enough to know you iron OVER the thin towel you spread over your hair. Shoot! I coulda told you it wasn't my fault even before the legal ruling. Everybody's an EJ wanna. Okay so, Katelyn can sing, but more importantly she lives in my geographic area aka Des Moines, IA. No, there isn't a cornfield in the middle of the city and yes, we do have running water and electricity. Hmmm. Now that I think of it we might be just a little ahead of some places where people think they are progressive (we don't tell adults they can't love or marry another adult) so stop the Iowa stereotypes please. Okay, true we do have a diversity of food-on-a-stick offerings at the state fair, but who doesn't? So, yes Katelyn. She'll get into the last few left standing, or singing would be a better word choice. She very sellable-as in vocally and style (don't go there). The black feather in the hair wasn't workin' too much, though.
EJ's favorite BEFORE everybody else jumped on the somebody-different bandwagon was/is Crystal Bowersox. I love that she never watched Idol on a regular basis and doesn't seem phased by all the glitz. She's pretty much for real. I doubt she sucks up to the judges, unbottons her shirt and compromises herself too much. I loved her comment about Idol not allowing original songs when a judge reminded her to be original! Of course, some compromising must take place just to make sure all the contestants are appropriately grateful and say keywords like life changing experience or I am blessed or dream of a life time, yadda, yadda, yadda. Each year the cliches become more cliche. I suppose the fact that Crystal can sing is a good touch. The harmonica is a great extra. How many times do you see the whole package? It would be nice to see a true female all-around musician win. (love Underwood and Clarkson but they don't play instruments). I don't get Crystal's dreadlocks, though. I think that's natural for some hair, but not-so-much Caucasian type hair. My daughter once had a Caucasion female friend who constantly wore dreadlocks or cornrows and the occasional dorag. I finally had to tell her she wasn't Black. Anyway, yes, I'm sayin' my main objection to the two favorites IS their hair. But, we can change that. I'll take care of it. I'll advise them to iron their hair. Then, when it gets too crispy they'll go for a trim. Viola! new hairstyles for Crystal and Katelyn! Speaking of hair, let's give some of Katelyn's curl to Lily Scott and they'd both look better. BTW I like Lily a little. It's the hair thing again. I am not crazy over white hair on young people, but I'm over it. The straight style reeks of a Cleopatra look alike; it's too stark or blunt. Also speaking of hair, why does Casey's look better than most of the girl's hair?
Now for the judges. I am a big Ellen Degeneres fan but she has yet to impress me in the world of Idol judging-too many Paulaesque comments. C'mon Ellen, you can tell the truth and coat it with humor-not Paula. And, somebody has to tell Kara DioGuardi the competition isn't about her. I sense she has a strong need to feel needed. First hint? Bikini. Simon Cowell is still the wanna-be-bad boy but gives solid advice. He's too much of a drama queen, though. He should feel like a jerk for saying things like you blew it and your career is over. Yes, he is the best judge on the panel. But, he still ain't God or some other deity. Randy Jackson is . . . Randy is Randy. He's true to himself and not too abrasive but still doesn't give unrealistic hope to those who pretty much such. The dawg thing was sickening a few years ago, but evidently no one told Randy.
Next up? Tune in for my ultra groupie experience (if that's possible with half a million other groupies) as part of the Colbert Nation as I worship all things Stephen Colbert!
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