Vibes and Stuff.

NO GUYS REALLY I’M NOT GAY: Bunheads

I watched this new show called “Bunheads” last night on a sketchy website which shall not be named. Since the themes were pretty feminine and non-manly, figured that I get it out in the open unless people find out about it later on when I run for public office or something.

Overall, the show is decent. Its about a showgirl named Michelle who hates her job because of her flat chest size (big-breasted dancers are allowed to display, and therefore get more money), and her rat-infested apartment. Ironically, the only excitement she can get in Las Vegas is by avoiding the eager yet annoying advances of Hubble, a fourtysomething who snakes his way into the dressing room whenever he’s in town. Her friends tease here for hating a guy who seems nice, but in her eyes, Hubble’s a scrub and she don’t want none.

After a failed audition for the famed “Chicago” cabaret, she agrees to spend some of Hubble’s time on a date- while downing tons of alcohol. Determined to win her heart, he tells her of the place he lives, a town called Paradise with a house built at the edge of the ocean. Normally, this is where our protagonist screams rape and douses him in pepper spray, but in vino veritas. She takes him on his offer, freakin’ marries him at a drive-through cathedral, and moves to his house.

So, up to that point, I didn’t dislike the show, but I wasn’t digging it either. Since the show’s producer was the same lady who created “Gilmore Girls,” most of the dialogue comes out in this catty repartee, sort of like Busta Rhymes without the rhyme and on half the speed. But the show remained on that topic of romance and love which, although not overt and vomit-inducing, was still not able to keep me beyond the first episode.

What at least guarantees a viewing of the second episode deals with Hubble’s cantankerous hag of a mother and the children she trains in ballet. Long story short- He lives with his mom. Blech. And Michelle was nearly ready to rescind all hope for the dude, especially since her new mother-in-law, Fanny, did not particularly greet with the grace of a swan; more like the grace of a woodchipper.

Anyways, the four main teenage girls that Fanny teaches sum up nature’s usual female stereotypes: the biotch, the biotch’s accomplice, the oblivious one, and the body conscious chick on the verge of an eating disorder (seriously? the chick with the nicest thighs gets disowned? white people, why?). Michelle finds them with a making idle talk about some scholarship audition in between swigs of stolen beer. She then decided to impart some knowledge to the young’ns by conducting one for them.

It was her most human moment of the show, as she gave these girls a break from the worthless drama that reigns supreme in their lives while also giving herself a break from the newfound drama of her scandalous marriage. In the end, the body conscious chick has great confidence in herself, although decidedly temporary, and Fanny eases up on Michelle when she realizes that she did in fact know how to dance and was not a Vegas hooker as she immediately suspected.

The twist that takes place after this feel-good moment seemed pretty risky for a new relationship drama, especially on on ABC Family, but if the writers and the actors make it work, and the show manages to inject more organic humor into the show, I might have something to watch on that channel. To be honest though, “Secret Life” has that really hot chick in it, but the hell with cringing through fabricated suburbian baby mama drama for that. Give me the makings of an interesting story.

I will now write about Breaking Bad in another post to redeem myself.

Midnight Ramblings, Part Tree.

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh.

I’ve been really confused sexually nowadays. Not like orientation, but like, its hard for me to get into a relationship. And what is the dynamic of sex in a relationship? Is it a true way to express love? Is it really preserved only for procreation? 

I love San Antonio. Still intrigues me how unique the culture was down there, and how much historical preservation has taken course over there. The riverwalk was so amazing to me. A damn natural body of water criss-crossing its way through a metropolitan area? Fascination at an extreme peak.

I finally started on the third book in the “Girl who does shit series” which is aptly titled “Girl Who Kicked The Hornets Nest.” It has the same narrative pull of the other two books, and since it is the last one in the series, I’m itching to see how it ends. And Lisbeth Salander is tantalizing, of course. Guess you can call this my teenage Harry Potter thingamabobber.

About Harry Potter: I am done. Not going to cry or whine because there is no point shedding agony for a fictional universe. Sometimes I wonder why I gave up on the series: was the last book too long? Is the premise too unwieldy and childish for me to suspend disbelief at this age? Was the wasted tension between Harry and Hermione a turnoff? Is it another mainstream thing that I simply shy away from because I am myself? Who can say. Regardless, I will not sympathize with the obnoxious fan-fueled money laundering scheme that was splitting the last book in two. I have heard that it helped the movie adaptation, but my mind is made up. Thanks for occupying my childhood, but hey, we must part ways.

Water. They need to change the flavor.

Blue Cream Soda. My favorite soda underneath Dr. Pepper.

Captain America was a fun film, albeit completely predictable and bringing nothing refreshing to the Avenger table. Chris Evans will be a great addition to that film, however. 

My guitar playing has been adequate, but I know that I should ramp up my practice time twofold. There is a talent in me that is begging to be unleashed. I hope.

The Office has turned out to be a great show. Really glad I took the initiative to watch the entire series this summer. Steve Carell and Rainn Wilson are top-notch actors, and the other cast members definitely pull their own weight as well. Angela is now hot because I have this weird spot for stuck up women. And OMG, Ellie Kemper smiles so damn much!

Yeah, its a good thing, but holy shit her face must hurt after the shootings. And yes, she is possibly the cutest woman-person on earth.

Today was my sister’s thirteenth birthday. She is growing up too fast… (sheds tear)

Scotch eggs! Do you know what this is? One of the best things to come out of Nigeria besides internet fraud jokes, crude oil and me. One hard-boiled egg wrapped in corned beef then deep fried. You will die, I promise you.

Just started on Sons of Anarchy today.

Whoa… this and Breaking Bad are two of the grittiest and realistic shows I have ever seen. Like, the pilot alone had me drop my jaw maybe four times in a row. Don’t blame me for not having seen the Wire, that one hasn’t been in the card. 

Our home theatre system is finally getting installed after such a long wait. Can’t wait to break it in with Inception and Alice in Wonderland, hehe.

I naturally write/type “theatre” instead of the American “theater” and Word always has a problem with this. And I use the upper case “J” for both cases, because I thought that was cool back in the third grade.

Adieu.

Previous ramblings:

http://femdog.tumblr.com/post/2051865497/midnight-ramblings

http://femdog.tumblr.com/post/2480371376/midnight-ramblings-part-deux

I like when people ask me if I watch a certain show,

and then I can gleefully tell them that I don’t watch television.