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Friday, January 27, 2006
If there was ever any doubt before yesterday that Oprah was a hard ass, take no prisoners kind of bitch, there ain't anymore. While your Uncle Grambo won't disagree with Gawker's assertion that it was the "Best. Television. Ever.", it was also the single most uncomfortable hour of television since "Cop Rock." Oprah unleashed the kind of tongue-lashing on Jimmy Frey that is normally reserved for late night Spanktravision session of Bella Does Jenna. Oprah fucked the bullshit and threw down on everyone's favorite fake writer, who was first exposed as a plagiarist here on whatevs.org back in January 2003. I mean, how much creedence can you place in the kind of guy whose motto is cribbed from a 311 song?
That said, Oprah crossed the line in the sands of coolness from rightfully pissed to vengefully destructive at about the two-minute mark of yesterday's show. Her attitude was frighteningly similar to Beth Stolarczyk's recent proclamation that "If you fuck me, I'm just going to fuck you harder" on "Gauntlet 2."
The right thing to do would've been to begin the show with her apology, followed by an extended conversation with the Frank Rich's and MoDo's and Nan Talese's of the world about the difference between memoirs and autobiographies and, more importantly, about why the truth matters. That would've set the stage to bring out Frey for the last 15 minutes or so of the show. Which, frankly, would've been MORE than enough time to admonish and scold the man for hornswaggling millions of zombified housewives. Instead, she paraded a slew of self-righteous inquisitors on stage to berate the visibly shaken author for ONE FULL HOUR, all the while presiding over the situation in a manner eerily reminiscent of Lyndie England. It was almost as if she was revelling in Frey's flagellation. It was scary, it was sad, and it was wrong. Oprah should know better. After all, her hair is WAY more fake than anything Frey put on the page.
Moral of the story? "Nobody fucks with the
Anyone wanna go to Amsterdam with Vanegas and Perez Hilton? Um, didn't think so. Who are the ad wizards who came up with the idea of Bloggers In Amsterdam? Leave it to a bunch of stoned-to-the-bejeezus Euros to become the frontrunners in the category of Most Fucktardly Wurst Attempt To Captialize On The Media Buzz Surrounding Blogs Evs.
Speaking of Euros, Free Darko posted their fantastic "Euro Guide For Beginners" earlier this week. All of you FOWs who heart the NBA as much as your Uncle Grambo does should immediately stop what you're doing, print a copy of this and save it for the next time you plan to take a durst. Just make sure said durst doesn't occur at the office ... that is, unless you don't mind that repeated bellylaughs will ID you as the douchebag with his pants around his ankles in the handicap stall. Marzipan.
BREAKING! New Sacco and Vanzetti buzz! It has something to do with Upton Sinclair, but too many words make your Uncle Grambo's head hurt.
Pete Doherty's life reads like a James Frey memoir. Only in Doherty's case, it's really happening. Mr. Babyshambles himself was arrested not one, not two, but THREE TIMES YESTERDAY! UPDATE: Doherty Behind Bars After A Heroin Bust.
How in the samhell did the paths of Damon Dash and Piper Perabo ever cross, and why would they be spotted together in the LES? There must've been a support group that night for people with alliterative names.
Fergie is a minger. I agree ... I think?
Springsteen to perform at The Grammys. Even though it seems likely that he'll perform "Devils & Dust", it sure would be bovs if he dropped some E-Street science on our collective asses.
Remember kids, it ain't a legitimate democracy unless the White House says it is. What do they have against hummus, anyway? I loves me some falafels.
And in what will surely go down as the worst news of 2006, word has broken that Charlotte HatherHottness has left Ash. Somewhere in the lower southwest side of Grosse Pointe, Damizz is surely crying into his beer. Your Uncle Grambo will mourn this loss until the day I drop. [via Torr]posted by Uncle Grambo |
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Introducing ... Panda Style! It's kinda like the reverse cowgirl, only with more bamboo and Dun Tan on the hifi.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Professional women's sports. Some say no buzz. While your Uncle Grambo is more supportive than a Maidenform of amateur women's athletics (ie, anything Olympic related like ice skating or gymnastics), I've never felt compelled to attend, let alone watch, any of the horrificly homely monstrosities that lurk around leagues like the WNBA and the LPGA (Michelle Wie and Paula Creamer being notable exceptions). Call me old fashioned, call me boorish ... hell, call me sexist. I'm just the kind of guy that prefers my lesbians on the Playboy Channel, not on ESPN.
That said, I can't get enough of the WTA. Really. While men's tennis has become unbearable to watch (mainly because of the way that advances in racket technology altered the game), I can't think of many better ways to spend a Saturday afternoon than sitting down on the couch and cracking open a few cold ones to watch Martina Hingis prowl the baseline. Which is EXACTLY what The Senator and yours truly did this past Saturday afternoon. And, in three words, it was best.
As your Uncle Grambo reported here back in November, The Swiss Miss has decided to return to competitive tennis after an injury forced her into an involuntary three year hiatus from the game. But watching her play on Saturday afternoon, it was almost like she never went away. Her serve still leaves a lot to be desired, but her groundstrokes were flawless and she showed some great quickness on the court. The latter could perhaps be attributed to conditioning and physique; I can't remember her ever looking this taut and, dare I say, svelte. She toyed with Iveta Benesova (who ain't no slouch in the looks department either) for most of the first set before easily dispatching her in the second. Hingis ended up taking the match, 6-4 6-1.
And, despite losing to Kim Clijsters in the Australian Open quarterfinals earlier this morning, it would be unfair to categorize Martina Hingis' first Grand Slam run since the 2002 US Open as anything other than spectacular. It will be exciting to see her get back into court shape over the next few months; definitely look for her to make a run at the French Open in May.
Until then, please enjoy Nummer and H-Bomb's review of this weekend's Peter Sarsgaard / Strokes episode of Saturday Night Live. Also worth noting is that your Uncle Grambo finally got around to posting their review of the Dane Cook / James Blunt episode from early December. Read their review and then tune in this weekend be sure not to miss the debut of Kristen Wiig's Target Lady in this week's rerun of said Cook episode. Believe me when I say it's pure Brills Murray.