He is wearing a skirt. And argyle stockings. And strappy boots. And the piece de resistance: a twee little man-purse.
What do we make of this?
Well, first… I liked Cam in Twilight, even though he only had like five lines. He was adequately smoldering and shirtless during his brief appearances on screen so I say job well done.
But this…
Ok, let’s deconstruct.
First of all, this is an actual kilt. My first reaction when I saw it was to say, OMG he’s wearing a pleated skirt. (I don’t have any kind of problem with men in skirts/dresses/all forms of non-pants; actually, I think it’s kind of awesome, but it has to be done right…the man skirt surfaces every year in one form or the other, but it has yet to really catch on). But what Cam is wearing, I believe, is a Utilikilt. Yeah, I know right? Who even knew? But apparently they exist.
So, Okay, it’s a kilt. Maybe it’s the fact that it falls above the knee, as opposed to below the knee which is wear a kilt would normally fall, that makes Cam look like he’s about to enroll in a particularly progressive Catholic school. I still think it looks like a skirt.
Second, those socks. God I hope they’re socks. They’re either knee-highs (what time does the bell ring, Sister Mary Francis?) or stockings, but because of the kilt, they are dangerously close to looking like tights, which is probably more than I can handle. Then again, tights would be the polite thing to do, especially if he’s wearing the kilt the way nature intended.
The boots are a stroke of genius, though. They add a touch of masculinity to a look that is careening recklessly towards cross-dresser, so I have to give that one to him.
Now, I can totally get behind the man-purse, or murse. I wish the world would just get over it. I hate stuffing all my crap into my pockets! No wonder I’m so attached to my hoodies – I can store my whole universe in the kangaroo pouch. I wouldn’t have to resort to a dumpy looking hoodie if the world would let me carry a purse. As it is, I carry a bag most of the time (my pockets just can’t accommodate my iPod, checkbook, lunchtime reading, camera, etc.), but it’s like a gymbag, for god’s sake. I used to carry a sleek, leather messenger bag, but I got tired of the nasty looks. I got tired of telling people around here that in the big cities, ALL MEN CARRY BAGS LIKE THESE! So, I’m totally on his side on the murse issue.
When you add everything together… it’s a look. I don’t hate it. He’s still hot. But I’m almost positive he dressed like this to stir up the paparazzi.
So, as I approach him to pin this Red Badge of Sartorial Courage upon his chest, I’m also asking him if this was some sort of dare, and if so I hope it was worth it.
It took every ounce of willpower to resist typing that subject line in ALL CAPS!!
My reasons for posting a photo of an absolutely RIPPED Padalecki are two-fold. One: the obvious – he’s a favorite of mine and he’s shirtless, which equals obligatory post. Second: Li’l Sis and I were just discussing the Padalecki’s new trend towards Beefy and how that made us feel. I was decidedly thumbs up while she found it rather unsettling.
Indeed, Sam Winchester has been developing rapidly in the chest, back, and guns for several seasons of Supernatural, but it has been hard to gauge just how rapidly due to the show’s cruel tendency to dress him in bulky flannel. We got a little peek in a recent episode when he got down with a demon (mostly back and guns), but not enough to accurately assess just how much gym time he has been getting.
Now, thanks to this candid photo taken on the set of his new movie, Friday the 13th: Part AGAIN? REALLY?, we can tell just how intense those workouts have been.
I’m curious to know what Li’l Sis is thinking now… I’m sorry this post turned out to be an email to Li’l Sis (and to be honest, it kind of started that way), but I didn’t see any reason to be exclusive. The Padalecki is for everyone, after all.
Every year at this time, we gather together around a giant bird that’s been yanked, pulled, gored, and otherwise molested until it achieves the most glorious honor of sitting in the center of our table amongst mounds of various traditional side dishes for just a few moments before we rip into it like a pack of voracious, yet well-mannered, hyenas. But before we do, let us all take a moment to reflect on all the things for which we are thankful. I’ll go first.
I’m thankful for so many things, really. Britney Spears, whose new album drops on Dec. 2… the cute, argyle socks I bought at Target… pizza with cheese baked into the crust…
I’m also thankful for my 3-month old niece, who is destined to become the jewel of our bloodline and the savior of all things good and true… for the imminent return of Li’l Sis from across the wide ocean… for my family and friends… for my new job, which at the moment seems secure and exciting and fulfilling… for my health and independence…
But most of all, and I say this with the utmost sincerity, I’m thankful for Hugh Jackman.
May he continue to be hounded by photographers, now and forever.
I know these shots are a little bit old, and any and all Gyllenhaal enthusiasts have already seen them, but I just had to post these pictures. I was kind of surprised to see him looking so buff, though, because from the little that I know about the videogame, the Prince isn’t necessarily a huge specimen – but I’m not complaining. Like, at all.
The long hair is something to consider. When the pictures of Jake with the longer hair started surfacing a few weeks back, I was not a fan – mostly because it looked like he wasn’t washing it regularly. But here, it totally works.
I’m glad Jake seems to recognize who is paying his bills. If Brokeback didn’t secure 100% of the gay demographic, this movie should grab the stragglers. He knows his fanbase, and we soooo appreciate it.
My favorite show (yes, it’s official now, this is my favorite show) started up again last Thursday, and even though I totally forgot about it and had to catch it the next day on YouTube, which kind of took some of the magic out of it, I’m ready to let it take over my entire life. In fact, I go willingly.
One thing this show does better than all the rest is introduce us to the contestants. I don’t know if it’s Cat Deeley’s superior interviewing skills or what, but I feel more connected to the people trying out, whether they’re good or bad, which makes the viewing so much more satisfying. I’m usually overwhelmed and exhausted after the American Idol auditions, not only because they spend too much time highlighting the atrocious people, but also because the little time they do spend with the good singers seems shallow and one-dimensional. I don’t expect perfection… after all, these shows have to edit an entire two days’ worth of auditions into two hours (more or less), but all I’m saying is this show seems to do it better.
There were many memorable characters on the premiere episode, but one in particular really touched me. Meet Jonathan Anzalone, a 21 year old “professional dancer” from Italy.
Well, obviously, he’s hot as hell. But he isn’t just a pretty face. In his brief, yet undeniably sexy, audition segment, he scandalizes Cat Deeley, teaches us important life lessons, takes off all his clothes, puts them back on again, does a bad Michael Jackson impression, forces Mia Michaels to humiliate herself, pisses off Nigel Lythgoe, and flirts rather aggressively with the camera crew. Indeed, he had a busy day.
Judging by the reactions on the blogs Friday morning, Signor Anzalone certainly made quite an impression. The consensus seemed to be, and I’m paraphrasing, “He is soooo hot. But also… jackass.” While he did come off as rather, shall we say, cocky (no Mia, that is not a Freudian slip), I think he’s being judged unfairly. There’s an old saying that goes, “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” and I think it applies here… except it would go more like, “Don’t judge an Italian Stallion by his very pronounced bulge.” In that spirit, let’s examine his misadventures to understand him a little better.
The very moment the camera finds him, he pulls out this little number from his bag of tricks.
So, we already know he’s very flexible, although… I’m not sure that’s a dance move as much as it is porn. And even though his leg is awkwardly twisted around his head, and he looks very uncomfortable… it’s kind of hot. I can’t lie about that.
Moving indoors, Cat Deeley corners him on the staircase to ask him how American men are different from Italian men. Since the question was stupid, Jonathan gives the stupid answer, “we’re hairy,” even though he proves the statement false. Cat Deeley, observant as ever, points out Jonathan’s immaculately shaved chest, which is gorgeous, by the way, to which Jonathan responds, “Oh, you noticed.” Of course, it’s impossible not to notice his chest, considering his shirt is conspicuously (deliberately) unbuttoned. I’m not sure why Cat Deeley walked right into that set-up so blindly, unless the whole thing was scripted (which it very well may have been), but the whole exchange is indicative of whom we are dealing.
In between various shots of Jonathan hip-thrusting and posturing around the building, he tells us (sexily) that, “(he) likes (him)self, and (he) likes to show that to people.” All of this we know, but that won’t stop him from showing us again and again and again.
He shows us his abs in the lobby.
He shows us his (CENSORED) in the warm-up room.
He shows us his delicious pelvic bone area backstage.
Basically, he shows us just about everything… except any dancing abilities. He doesn’t want to waste our time. That crap is reserved for the judges.
Before going into the audition, Cat Deeley finds Jonathan more reserved and quiet, and he explains that his reticence can be attributed to the fact that he’s, “thinking about something else.” Cat Deeley, still stumbling blindly into his traps, presses him further, “what are thinking about?” He reiterates, whilst looking deep into her eyes, that, “he’s thinking about something else.” After a pause, in which we can only assume that Cat Deeley finally gets it, and then fumbles in her pocket for her rape whistle, asks him, “Are you being very Italian at this precise moment?” Jonathan, not to be swayed by hurtful stereotypes, quickly responds, “no,” because being creepy, aggressive, and inappropriate on television isn’t a trait reserved solely for Italians, which everyone knows thanks to shows like The Real World. Remember when I praised Cat Deeley for her superior interviewing skills? Well, I take it back. But not for long… I’m sure it’s hard for her to concentrate while Jonathan molests her with his eyes.
As he makes his way into his audition, he leaves Cat Deeley with one more quick look at his abs and some friendly advice on how to work off the raging lust within her after sitting next to him for 10 minutes. Cat Deeley’s only response is…
I think she speaks for us all.
In the audition, he’s spectacularly bad, but in such a hot way. He even does the whole lick-the-fingertips-touch-the-nipple move, which is just so very Showgirls and… well, I’m turned on.
The judges are confused, bemused, and amused, all at the same time, but they still can’t manage to turn away.
That’s called being dickmatized, and clearly, Jonathan has the power. To be fair, Jonathan does have some moves, well… he has one, which he performs only after removing his shirt.
Afterwards, Nigel asks Mia if she thinks Jonathan will be successful as a dancer in America, and Mia, all full of serious, says, “No, I don’t think he’ll be sex… sucsex… SEX!” and the whole auditorium goes wild, because she just said what everyone was thinking.
"Yeah, you TOTALLY said it!"
Nigel feels badly for the confused-looking Jonathan, so he takes a moment to explain the ‘Freudian slip’ to our sexy friend while Mia tries to pull herself together. Eventually she does, no thanks to Mary Murphy, who is doing her usual bansheeing and crazed cackling (oh, how I missed it), and she tells him that he won’t be successful because his technique isn’t quite up to par. Of course, Jonathan isn’t really interested in what she has to say, having already achieved his goal of dazzling her with his sexy, but he accepts her criticism with good humor and a killer smile, probably because he doesn’t really understand what she’s saying anyway. Mary continues by saying that the dancing was weak indeed. There was nothing about his performance that would make people want to get on the phone for him. Then she checks herself to admit that there might be some people out there who would get on the phone for him on account of how epically sexy he is, and even though we can’t see it, I’m sure there are about 20 people raising their hands in the audience to back her up on that one. But mentioning his incredibly good looks is really the perfect thing to do because it’s equal parts criticism and compliment, very much like Paula Abdul telling someone how good they look tonight.
So after two negative reviews, Jonathan assumes he has been rejected and dismissed and turns to leave the stage, but Nigel stops him angrily because NIGEL ALWAYS HAS HIS SAY! Jonathan tries to defend his behavior by claiming that if two judges have already said no than he’s done, but what I think is happening is Nigel has no boobs or estrogen and is therefore immune to Jonathan’s powers, which means Jonathan has no desire to deal with him. Nigel berates Jonathan for assuming anything at all (especially the estrogen part), praises his psychotic level of self-confidence, and invites him back for the choreography round. Mary agrees, and so does Mia, but only to a point, because she says that she would be reluctant to work with him because he’s a nightmare, which in her world means ‘so unbelievably hot that it’s impossible to concentrate.’ I think Cat Deeley would agree.
Later on in the choreography round, we watch as Jonathan totally botches the routine by completely ignoring his partner until the poor girl is forced to improvise by throwing herself crotch-first onto his muscular, rippling body, which Mary explains is totally understandable, which is funny because it’s true.
You can’t blame her.
After the judges let him down easy (and I’ll admit now that I was really disappointed), the camera crew follows him into the street. Jonathan, undeterred by his previous rejection, invites (nay, begs) the camera crew to come home with him. Even though the crew was probably very tempted, because GOD who wouldn’t be, we watch Jonathan’s high, tight ass disappear into the hot L.A. night.
So what do we think? When I watched the show on Friday, my opinion on Jonathan was much like everyone else’s. He’s unquestionably gorgeous, but also smug, arrogant, kind of smarmy, and really full of himself. But after watching the clip a few (hundred) more times, I found my impression changing.
Here’s my theory, and I think this will clear a lot of things up… I’m pretty sure he was trying out for a different show. Hear me out. Point 1: He’s Italian, so English is obviously his second language, right? Point 2: the word “dance” is kind of broad. It can mean all sorts of things, and all different kinds of dancers call themselves dancers even if they are working in completely different industries (think: exotic dancers). Conclusion: I think Jonathan thought he was trying out to be a stripper. Ok, ok… that’s probably a giant leap. I mean, he had to have at least seen the other people trying out and figured they weren’t all strippers. And I would hope he talked to some people and asked about the show. But after watching the video with my theory in mind, I’m convinced he thought the show was So You Think You Can Strip, and in that light, he comes across perfectly, like he was made for the role. From the aggressive flirting with every female, to the outrageous displays of his body and his ego, to the moves he chose to audition with, to the way he had eye-sex with the camera… I mean, IT ALL FITS!!!
Or not. But, you know, I just can’t make myself dislike the guy. And it isn’t just because he’s the hottest guy I’ve seen on T.V. in a very long time. He IS very arrogant, but... umm… if you looked like that, wouldn’t you be? I’m not one to sympathize with pretty people often, especially when they use their looks to get anything they want, but I can understand how pretty people are often judged prematurely and how frustrating that can be. It’s clear from watching the video that he knows he’s an incredible specimen, but there’s a pandering way about him, a desperation, that makes me think he might be… I don’t know… lonely? Alright, I’ll stop reading into things, but don’t you think it’s possible, now, after reading all of this, that his whole segment might have been a giant misunderstanding? Decide for yourself: the video of the whole affair is after the jump.
Well, I hope for his sake that one day there IS a show called So You Think You Can Strip, because, honey… straight through to Vegas.
This past weekend, I spent some quality time with my Netflix queue by watching Eastern Promises. I don’t think I need to go into how much I LOVE Viggo Mortensen, because, frankly, it would be like a kid trying to explain to you the size of the fish he just caught… I LOVE him thiiiiiiiis much… basically, it’s the kind of hyperbole that’s unquantifiable, like infinity times infinity… anyway, that’s how much I love him.
So the movie… It’s about a kindly, well-intentioned ER doctor in London, played by Naomi Watts, who finds herself drawn to the fate of a new-born baby whose mother, a Jane Doe, passed away during the birth. She finds a journal, written in Russian, on the deceased mother’s body, and in an attempt to identify the baby’s next of kin, finds herself suddenly and inexplicably knee-deep in the Russian Mafia. Turns out the dead woman was involved in the nefarious practices of said Russian Mafia, or vory v zakone (Thieves in Law), and the journal and the baby are forms of evidence greatly coveted by both the Mafia and an increasingly pushy Scotland Yard. At the center of the conflict is Nikolai Luzhin, played by Viggo, the Mob Boss’s son’s personal valet and “cleaner,” and if you don’t know what a “cleaner” does, I suggest you look it up. It’s, like… something everyone should know.
Basically, Anna (the doctor) starts asking too many questions to the wrong kinds of people and the story unfolds as she attempts to get out of a potentially fatal situation involving hitmen, mob bosses, and knowing too much. The twists are unexpected, the emotional strands are well pulled and well placed, and Viggo has a full frontal nude scene. Granted, he’s fighting two goons with knives while nude, so the blood and graphic representations of severe bodily harm kind of ruin the normal appeal of a full frontal nude scene, but I’ve learned to take what I can get in mainstream Hollywood fare. Also, the Russian accents are truly delicious on the ears. I know some people think Russian sounds ugly, but I think it’s really fascinating… the way the r’s are rolled and the way vowels are swallowed, I mean, there’s nothing else quite like it. What it lacks in phonic beauty it totally makes up for with sheer interest. I could listen to it for hours.
All nudity aside, Viggo’s character is a disturbing, yet strangely optimistic look into the human side of being a career criminal. While these men (and women) are hardened and morally bankrupt, they are still capable of human compassion and decency (at least, in this movie). Supposedly, these people are frightening because they commit incredibly heinous crimes nonchalantly, almost like it’s a habit. This movie asks what is scarier… the idea that they are capable of doing evil, or the fact that true acts of charity feel so unnatural to them? I have a lot of living left to do, but as cynical and bitter and misanthropic as I tend to be, I still believe that people are good at the core. Being kind and thoughtful and compassionate is very easy, but being evil is actually kind of hard; it requires hard work and practice and a hardening of the spirit. It’s the hardships, unfairness, and injustices in life that make good people work very hard to be evil.
The other neat thing I want to mention: tattoos play a big part in the movie. Each member of the Russian mob is etched with many important tattoos that identify their status or rank in the organization. In a way, the tattoos are visual records of the criminal’s life. For example, each stint in prison is documented in ink on their body somewhere. I assume successful hits are documented as well. So like, if the body of a member of the Russian Mafia washed up on the riverbank, or something, a person in the know could tell you the guy’s whole life story just by putting together the pictures. This isn’t anything new or anything, I know that prisoners in US prisons still do this kind of thing. But it got me thinking… if I was to document my life on my body with tattoos, what would that… be?
I remember when I got my tattoo, the hardest part was trying to figure out what to get. I remember feeling a little bit depressed because I honestly couldn’t think of anything I’d ever done or been through that might merit a permanent mark on my body. It made me feel like I hadn’t done anything or been anywhere. I went to school, and I got a job, and you know… nothing special about any of that. But after seeing Eastern Promises, I was laughing out loud to myself thinking of what my body would be covered with if I chose to do it like the Russian Mob. Like, a bust of Beethoven on my ass to symbolize my classical music training. Or two diplomas on each arm to represent my two graduations. Or something to represent those three summer camps I went to… Obviously, all of that’s pretty lame and I would never do it, but again… this gets depressing. See what I mean? This is making me want to go skydiving or something. Anything at all just to feel like I’ve done something.
Anyhoodle… see the movie. ‘Tis good! 4.5 out of 5.
Bonus Eye Candy after the jump!
These two are from the movie...
And finally, Viggo as Aragorn... quite possibly my favorite...
I just adore Anderson Cooper. Yeah, me and almost everyone else, right? I mean, how could anyone NOT be completely enamored with him? The shocking white hair, the sharp, blue eyes… the MUSCLES… MARRY ME, ANDERSON!!! Ahem… sorry about that. It’s hard to stay in control. Anyway, lately, I’ve been catching more and more of Anderson outside of his news studio. Don’t get me wrong… he’s perfectly sexy reading from teleprompters, but he’s even hotter when he’s bantering with a co-host like Kathy Griffin or Kelly Ripa. It shows that he’s witty and charming and self-deprecating, as well as foxy. Basically, if he gets any sexier, he’ll have to be studied. And I’ll have to be medicated. I’m willing to concede that part of his charm (for me, anyway) might be the mystery surrounding his sexuality. We gays love to speculate, and many a male celebrity has ridden the waves of gossip and intrigue to a profitable career. I worry that if Anderson did, like, come out or something, that mystery would disappear and I wouldn’t find him so unbelievably attractive. I guess what I’m saying is I hope he just keeps doing what he’s doing, which is simply being funny and cute and informative on my T.V.
This video of Anderson and Kelly Ripa has been circulating throughout the week and I think it encapsulates everything I’m talking about.
You know he secretly wants to do the lasso. He’s just barely containing himself. And you know if he did, he’d be really good at it. Because he just did the exact same move last night at the club. But he’s a news anchor and has to watch out for his cred. By the way, I think I love Kelly Ripa. She’s borderline annoying, true, but so am I, so we’re kindred spirits.
More Anderson after the jump...
News: Recently, he confirmed he has skin cancer. He had a mole from his face removed a few weeks ago.
...to write a coherent post in paragraph form today. Instead random tidbits…
1. I ate a lemon poppy seed muffin for lunch, and while it was undeniably delicious, I don’t appreciate finding poppy seeds all over my person for the entire rest of the day.
2. I’m really into Mariah Carey’s new single, Touch My Body even though it might be the silliest, most asinine song she’s ever released. The video is a big part of my irrational love. I LOL every time I watch it.
As an aside, I’m so happy that geek chic is in right now. My favorite manifestation of this trend would be Henry from Ugly Betty. He’s geeky, but the boy can dress.
It’s all a fantasy, though. No geeks I know have washboard abs.
More after the jump!
3. I have this great idea for bookshelves in my new apartment. I’m going to go to the Home Despot and buy decorative cinder blocks, and, along with some stained planks of wood, construct floor to ceiling shelves in the living room.
4. I just realized as I was making a list of cleaning supplies I’ll need for moving day… I’ve never actually purchased a broom. I thought they just appeared out of nowhere, like in the Sorcerer’s Apprentice.
5. Dancing with the Stars premiered last night, and I tried to watch it. Really, I did. But the absence of Maksim made me irritable and difficult to please.
6. I couldn’t sleep last night, so in a moment of sheer insanity, I picked up Oliver Twist, which I hadn’t read in years. I’d forgotten how much I loved Dickens’s writing. Before I knew it, I’d read 80 pages, dooming myself to a miserable morning. Today, besides being tired, I’ve got the musical numbers from Oliver! stuck in my head.
7. Apparently, my boss wants to have a meeting with me about my job and its direction… or lack thereof. It’s probably just her biannual ploy to convince me that there are big plans for me and that I shouldn’t do anything crazy like look for another job. Sometimes she acts like she’s terrified of the idea of losing me, which is flattering, I suppose. But wouldn’t it just be easier to pay me more? I have no principles! I can be bought!
8. I’m sad because Enchanted came out today on DVD, but I don’t have the money to purchazzie. Well, I mean, technically I do, but I shouldn’t, which is somehow worse. I saw Enchanted in the theatres, and it didn’t do all that much for me, but I recognize it for what it is, which is a movie that gets better every time you see it.
9. Speaking of movies, I really want to see Horton Hears a Who and The Other Boleyn Girl and 10,000 BC and Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day and maybe even Semi-Pro. I wish movies were free.
