by Cassidy on December 21, 2009
Christmas came early this year, and it comes daily.
3 o’clock is must see TV and if you’re not home during the day as I am set your D.V.R. to ABC. Why? Oh man, because James Franco is on General Hospital.
Yes, dead serious.
I caught wind of it last night so I hit my record button in disbelief. Even those of us who work from home need to actually work at 3pm, but at 4:30 I was ready. Perched on my favorite seat in the house in front of my flat screen I hit play and braced myself.
Sure as Sheila there he was, critically acclaimed, Hollywood heartthrob, actor on the rise, James Franco. I was stunned, ok, and giddy.
With gritted teeth and flared nostrils Franco (..the name of his character. YES I AM SERIOUS) huffed out these lines: “always treat people with respect especially when they invite you into you-rthey’re…(mistake) home, and prepare food for you….or at least buy you stuff..”
The actress he was doing the scene with kept looking over her shoulder, I imagine for someone to call cut. It was AWFUL!!! Franco looked like he’d learned the lines as he walked on set. Personally it seemed to me like he was being purposely over the top as if he was making a mockery of the whole genre.
I have to say that this feels like a stoner’s bet. (Mind you, I have only heard of such things, but am certain they exist.)
Somewhere in an apartment near Columbia University where the actor is studying for his master’s degree there is a group of guys huddled in a room at 3pm every day laughing their faces off at Franco taking what was no doubt a dare after smoking a doob.
If I’m wrong so be it but I’m getting the hardest laugh of my life.
If it was meant to be hilarious….I totally get it.
If it was meant to be serious…I’m totally scared.
I’ll be watching either way.
Thank you James Franco.
Thank you.
by Cassidy on October 28, 2009
Got gossip?
Unless you’ve been living under a rock, wearing a blindfold and earplugs the answer is invariably yes. Because gossip no longer solely resides in the pages of The Enquirer adjacent to the three-headed baby or whispered on the wind over your neighbor’s fence, you can get the daily dish on CNN, from your 11 o’clock news, and on any morning show.
Gossip has become a loud and proud part of our culture.
So when did it become so acceptable to talk about each other’s private business? And when is it fair game? The cult of celebrity gossip is rapidly growing it seems and whether we like it or not, it’s here to stay. There was always a measure of scrutiny that came with the job of being famous and from the outside looking in it appeared the risk weighed far less than the reward. But how far is too far and who is off limits? Politicians? Athletes? It’s obviously open season on actors and musicians but why? And do we truly have nothing better to do than to discuss the parenting skills of Balloon Boy’s Mom and Dad or the sex life of an ESPN analyst? (Please ask yourself now why you even know who Balloon Boy is).
Richard Heene the infamous Balloon Boy father wanted attention and I suppose this would be a case of be careful what you wish for. But would we have even heard about this story for so long much less at all were it not for the media’s insatiable appetite for dramatic, gossipy, “you be the judge” journalism? I don’t want to be the judge. Why must we judge? It’s becoming a bad habit. Keep it about the work, that’s what I say.
What is it about our society that loves to build people up to tear them down? And we say it just like that too, “Oh, you know, we like to build people up to tear them down.” Really? We do??
With childhood hunger on the rise and growing casualties overseas isn’t there a better use for our time and energy? Not to mention the airtime. We have more power than we give ourselves credit for. These shows and stories only exist because we consume them. Say no and watch how fast they disappear.
The next time you find yourself engaging in the misfortune of an actor who was caught cheating on their spouse ask yourself; Is this is really the world we want to leave our children? Picture Falcon Heene in 20 years speed dating and the girl across from him asking “Hey, aren’t you Balloon Boy?”
Perhaps it won’t cause you to donate all those plastic babies to Goodwill and you’ll still be Octomom for Halloween, but maybe, just maybe you’ll throw out that TEAM KATE t-shirt.
by Cassidy on September 12, 2009
I had my first Manhattan apartment well over a decade ago on 90th and Central Park West that I shared with another girl, we were just entering drinking age and both waited tables at Houlihan’s on 59th and 5th.
When not slinging beers for the 5th Avenue elite in need of a quick burger and brew, our evenings were spent trolling New York’s bar scene. I was single back then, and while never naïve my friends and I were slightly carless with our attire, showing more skin then maybe I would now and characteristically unconcerned with the “what if’s” that living in the city held for young attractive women.
We knew to walk fast looking straight ahead with purpose, and a lot of us attached pepper spray to our key chains, come to think of it you don’t see that so much anymore. Hmmmm?
The one common thread though stringing us all together was the subway flasher. We’d all seen one at some point. The lone man sitting across from you, full car or empty, afternoon or night, he’d stare at you just long enough for you to notice and when you did there it was, his exposed member glowing beneath the fluorescent bulbs. Some stories are more horrible than others and I am happy to say that that mine went pretty much as I just described it. Not pleasant, yet hardly traumatic. But there are men who have done unspeakable things on a busy subway when fronts are pressed to backs and well, let’s just say they, left their mark on an unsuspecting female.
Yes, that is correct.
So this supposed new string of flashers has grabbed the attention of a city and perhaps that has made it front-page news but I promise you this is nothing new. The only difference now is the invention of the camera phone so flashers beware. If you wish to be spared the embarrassment of the world knowing what New York women have known for years. Keep it in your pants.
And ladies, I’m beginning to see a light at the end of the flasher subway tunnel.
☺
by Cassidy on August 28, 2009
