I enjoyed this juxtaposition of headlines on the business page of The State today. The headlines go to this story, and this story.
For a split second, I thought maybe the stories actually were related. And in a global, trend-tracking sense, I suppose they are. Except, of course, that the larger posteriors some women seek are more of the muscular variety. Doughnuts alone won’t give you that…
It’s all about the bass, no treble.
Man, that is a FINE looking…. doughnut.
I am prepared to start Civil War 2.0 by stating without any equivocation that Dunkin Donuts’ doughnuts are far superior to the globs of undercooked dough known as a Krispy Kreme.
Trust me on this. I have done the research.
Challenge accepted. Pistols at dawn?
I’m on team Krispy Kreme.
I’ll officiate. No one could possibly be more impartial, as I’ve never tasted either, and never will.
When I was a kid, of all the things I was deathly allergic to, I most wanted to taste a doughnut. They seemed so appealing.
Now as an adult, I get a little queasy at the idea of eating something that looks and smells that intensely sweet…
I’m Southern born and bred, but I prefer Dunkin Donuts.
I drive past Dunkin Donuts to get to work. I’ll instead go out of my way to get a Krispy Kreme. No comparison.
Except since the doc scolded me for my sugar levels, I don’t eat either any more. I miss them both.
“The U.S. booty business is getting a big bump.”
-Someone over at the AP is enjoying their job.
Finally, a trend I can get behind.
Finally, a curve I’m already ahead of!
I got to wondering, reading that story, who Nicki Minaj was. So I took a look. When I see images such as these, or others of, say, Lady Gaga, with the extreme, cartoonish makeup, hair colors and costumes, I am reminded of the character that Chris Tucker played in “The Fifth Element.”
And I have to wonder, what’s the appeal?
In other words, it evokes a sort of Bruce Willis response in me, playing straight man to bizarre pop culture manifestations…
She does participate as one of three female singers on a current song called “Bang Bang” that I may or may not have occasionally blasted at high volume in my car.
You probably didn’t see the Concert For Valor from the National Mall last night on HBO. One of the other singers (Jessie J) sang the song solo as part of the tribute to the troops — and all I could think was: “How exactly does a song with lyrics like these honor our veterans?”
She got a body like an hourglass, but I can give it to you all the time
She got a booty like a Cadillac, but I can send you into overdrive (oh)
(You’ve been waiting for that, stop, hold up, swing your bat)
See anybody could be bad to you,
You need a good girl to blow your mind, yeah.
I like my pop music to come from normal looking people, with natural hair, natural faces, ordinary clothes, singing natural sounding music. People who look like this.
And sound like this…
I LOVE that version of that song. Favorite part — the verse that Rick Danko sings, with Levon talking back at him — “What’d YOU say?…”
How about this version?
Pretty good — but they skipped the “Crazy Chester” verse! The Rick Danko verse…
When I think of the way a band ought to look, this is the image in my mind. Almost this EXACT image, as I saw The Band and Dylan together on this same tour, in Memphis in 1974.
Ever since then, whenever I’ve contemplated the absurd extremes of costume donned by performers — from Bowie in his Ziggy phase to KISS to Devo to Lady Gaga, or for that matter going back to the way Brian Epstein dressed up the Beatles — I’ve pictured this, and thought, this is the way a band should look. Nothing should distract from the music.
It’s an ultimately cool, casual, timeless look. They could be graduate assistants, or guys sitting on a bench outside a saloon in the Old West. I had cultivated much this same look since my high school days. I bought myself a Navy blue tweed jacket with muted reddish pinstripes running through it that to me looked EXACTLY like what the guys in the Band — or for that matter, Butch Cassidy or Sundance — might wear. I wore it with a U.S. Navy dungaree work shirt that my Dad had given me, and jeans, and scruffy suede desert boots (like the ones Art Garfunkel is wearing in this picture).
Come to think of it, I’ve never really abandoned that look. Today, I’m wearing a vaguely green corduroy jacket with a charcoal-gray sweater vest over an unstarched sport shirt, with olive green chinos that are fraying at the cuffs.
It’s what I think is cool. And comfortable…
I had to quit wearing the desert boots because Evans quit making their Sahara Boot — and I’ve never found any others I liked as much…
I want all my musical performers to sound great. Unless it is also a visual art, like opera, appearance is irrelevant. I believe most of us would say Marina Lomazov is more physically attractive than Phillip Bush (sorry, PB, but it’s the truth), but his recital Monday night was sublime, and vastly better than anything I have heard La Marina play–and she’s excellent. Charles Fugo blew me away last year at his recital, yet, Charles is extremely unprepossessing visually.
I never could get into opera…