The Elephant in the Room

According to the belovedly deranged mythology of Christianity, Easter is a celebration of resurrection, the return from the dead. Therefore, depressing as it is, it's nonetheless appropriate that this Easter weekend has marked the return from the dead of the inexplicable popularity of the overwhelmingly obnoxious Jim Carrey. Not since Pulp Fiction brought John Travolta back from Has-Been Land has a cumback been so dispiriting. And if it's not bad enough that they've brought him back, they're inflicting him on innocent children, as he further befouls the charming work of the late Dr. Seuss. Today's post-literate (i.e. illiterate) children may never discover the actual, charming books of the good Doctor, and think only that he wrote obnoxiously overblown "Family" movie vehicles for fading, comic overactors. In any event, we can be certain that the success now two weeks running of Horton Hears a Who will certainly ensure sequels. (For the record, Little Douglas himself played Dr. Seuss's Horton The Elephant some 50 years ago, in a stage production of Horton Hatches the Egg at Lunada Bay School, in Palos Verdes, California. I'm sure it was terrible, but I'm equally sure that even Little Dougie made a better, or at worst, a considerably less insufferable Horton than Jim Carrey.) Let me put it this way:

I do not like that loud Jim Carrey.
I'd rather wed a swishing fairy.
(And I should know of what I say,
As half my husbands were quite gay.)
His Horton makes me cry out "Ugh!"
I'd rather see him played by Doug.
Into Doc Suess he's sunk his hooks,
Now children will not read those books.
If animated Suess kids need,
There's a swell cartoon with Hans Conreid.
It did not maul nor broadly pander,
So why not give that film a gander?
It's on a DVD, a cinch,
Along with Karloff's lovely Grinch.
To make the sequel more than paltry,
Why not starring Roger Daltry?



I love that darling singing pommy,
Who starred in that rock opera Tommy.
If you'd prefer a diff'rent fellow,
How about Abbott and Costello?




If Bud and Lou will still cause friction,
Why not try some science fiction?
'Cause when Jim Carrey leaves you bored,
Instead we'd have a smart Time Lord.
Mike Myers and Carrey are smart alecks,
But Doctor Who can kill the Daleks!

Another movie starring Jim,

Is a prospect that I find quite grim.

But a worse thing that could bring on frowns,

Would be success for Meet the Browns.

So while Jim's hit is awfully scary,

At least it held off Tyler Perry.

I'm finished now with all my snarlings.

So I'll just sign-off cheers my darlings.

A Hard Day's Two Hours on Fox

Yes that's right darlings, this is my 101st flogging. But then, you'd know that by scrolling down to my 100th flogging just below. However, if you're one of those annoying people who waits until LOST comes out on DVD to watch it, and will permit no spoilers in your presence, don't scroll down, and WATCH TV for Heaven's sake! Nothing is more annoying than: "Don't talk about the most-buzz-worthy show on TV until the DVDs come out next December!" Sorry folks, America can't sit and wait for you. And you, the idiot who has just ordered Citizen Kane from Amazon.com: Rosebud is the sled!


If you taped The Oscars and haven't watched them yet, then Spoiler Alert! Javier Bardem won Best Supporting actor for a movie about elderly gay guys: No Cunt For Old Men.



Now to the casual viewer of this photo, it would appear that Javier is kissing Tilda Swinton's agent's ass. Actors have to kiss so many agent's asses to get jobs (I married my first agent. What does that tell you?), that they end up automatically kissing any passing agent's butt, out of habit. Some develop a taste for it. They can be tasty, but it can also lead one to turn into James Lipton, who is such a world class, Olympic-level ass-kisser that the Gay Porn Awards just nominated Inside the Actor's Studio for Best Rimming!


However, appearances can be deceiving, fortunately. You see, the picture obscures his Oscar's head. Here's a formal photo of Javier's Oscar. The unusual head was put on it at Javier's insistence.



The man is nuts for me. Here's a shot of him waking up with me at Morehead Heights after one of my special vodka and rufie cocktails, which I knew was what he really wanted, even though he only asked for an orange juice. (Did he really expect me to take an order for straight orange juice seriously? From a Spaniard yet?). He can't get enough of me, and vice versa, I assure you. (And who doesn't enjoy some vice versa?)




Meanwhile, as further proof that there is no God, as if 7 years of President Dubya weren't proof enough, America got it INSANELY wrong tonight on American Idol! They sent home Amanda Overmeyer! Okay. I can live with her leaving, as we'd seen, I'm afraid, her entire range. "Ballads are boring." she said. Well sure, since they require emotional shading, and the ability to sustain a pitch. Cole Porter, Rogers & Hart, Irving Berlin, Sondheim, what a bunch of snoozers. Ironically, her last song was Back in the U.S.S.R., which is where she'll be singing next. (Yes, I know that there is no U.S.S.R. anymore. That's part of my point. Keep up!) (Sorry. The injustice described in the next paragraph has left me a tad irritable.)



But Amanda should not have gone home this week! First they should have sent home that evil Enemy of Music, the vile and detestable Kristy Lee Cook, before she butchers another song! Do you poor, foolish KL Cook fans realize that this now means that she will be on the tour? Thousands of Americans will suffer for this, having to sit through her Godawful singing even though they never phoned in a single vote for her. The Horror! The Horror!


After butchering Eight Days a Week last week, turning it into an abomination that would even horrify patrons at Dollywood, this week she ruined You've Got to Hide Your Love Away, a song she admitted she had never heard, and selected by the title. (She should remove ""Your Love" from the title, and then take the direction.) If she doesn't even know The Beatles's songs, then she's a musical illiterate who needs to learn about music before she even tries to be a singer. Better yet, she should try being a waitress. "Eggs over easy? What's that? I've never heard of it before."


Instead, America left her on the show. The result? The Beatles had to take matters into their own hands, even though it involved John and George crawling back out of their graves. It needed to be done. Since you AI voters didn't do it, they had to



Now, what to do about moronic little dreadlock boy Jason Castro, whose musical crimes now outnumber the atrocities of his famous father? Dopey Jason said on national TV that he thought ma belle was English. He thought the song was about how Michelle was a bell? Or maybe that she was Ma Bell, the Phone Company? And he brags about this on TV? Idiot! And then he sings Michelle, a gorgeous and rightfully-beloved "boring ballad." and mangles the French pronunciation. At least he was shown up in The Stupidity Department by Simon Cowell, who didn't understand why Jason chose to do the English/French lyrics, blissfully unaware that those are the only lyrics. Simon grew up in England during the 1960s. How can he be so utterly ignorant of The Beatles songbook? He had clearly never heard many of the songs before. He called two of the songs boring (Well, they were ballads.), another one mediocre, and generally expressed disdain and unfamiliarity with the best-known songs of the second half of the 20th Century. What was he listening to in the 1960s? The Monkees?


Michael John sang portions of A Day in the Life, including the lyric "Ran a comb across my head." All I could think was, "Doesn't look like it."


In parting, The Beatles have a message they'd like to pass along.


Cheers darlings.

Life in the Future

First off darlings, congratulate me. This is the 100th flogging on The Morehead the Merrier, and no one has challenged the Truth of my flog title yet. How could they?

Now on to the most important matter in this election year: Season 4 of LOST!

You know, I was originally supposed to be on LOST. I was to play The Drink Monster. However, when JJ Abrams realized that people like drinking, but are afraid of smoking because it kills people, the role was changed to a Smoke Monster, and I was replaced by Dennis Leary - yet again! And that was the end of my brief cumback as a cast member of LOST.

In my last flogging, I spoke about American Idol, the most popular show on TV for no known reason. But at the end of it, I mentioned a few questions aroused by this week's incredibly confusing episode of LOST, my favorite show on TV these says. It seems that now they're throwing flashbacks, flash-forwards, and "Real-Time" scenes at you higgeldy-piggledy. (Hmm. Spell Check says I have misspelled "Higgledy-piggledy." Does it have a useful correction? No. It doesn't know the correct spelling, only the incorrect spelling. Well, I can misspell it without it's help; thank you.) How are you supposed to know which are when, and when is which? And by The Present, they mean December, 2004, three years ago. So, are the "Flash-forwards" to Now? Is now The Future, the past The Present, and only the distant past The Past? I'm disoriented. I mean more than usual.

Anyway, I asked a simple question, "Is Jin dead in the future?" Jin is my favorite character, solely because of his name. (Are Korean men hung like Japanese men, because if they are, Sun dear, you can do better. Try shagging Sayid. I'll bet he's fun, provided Ben hasn't told him to shoot you afterwards.) How boring that they named Sun Sun. They should have called her Vermouth. Then we'd know that they belonged together. They should put Jin on a remount of Family Affair with Mr. French, so we could enjoy a Jin and French. Let Sebastian Cabot handle Jin, I'll do the Frenching myself.

So some smart ass writes back: "Tallulah darling, in the future, everyone is dead!"

Speak for yourself, Harpo. After all, the Constitution still prevents a third term for Dubya, so we may not ALL die. Anyway, you may be doomed to die someday, but I am a Screen Immortal! I'm already 110, and heading fast for 111. How immortal can a person get? Here's what I'm looking forward to another century on.

Anyway darlings, watching the abortive, short LOST 4th season, I have put the clues together, and I now know what the Freighter People are really intending, and it isn't pretty. I've figured it out from the clues last week and this. Here are the clues:

Clue #1: Lapidus (Not Pronounced Lap-i-deaux) brought vegetables (Lima Beans - Ugh! Isn't Death preferable to Lima Beans?) to Sayid & Desmond because "We had a little problem in the kitchen." ("Kitchen"? Shouldn't he have said "Galley" or "Mess"? I always LOVE to eat in the Sailor's Mess.)

Clue #2: Sayid later said: "I hope they resolve their kitchen issues." (He hates Lima Beans! Could this man be any more perfect? I mean apart from his having been a torturer in the past, and an assassin in the future?)

Clue #3: Someone got their brains blown out on that ship. And Johnson hasn't even mopped it up yet. (Michel is "Johnson"? I love the name. After all, "Johnson" is a traditional euphemism for "Penis", and is also the literal translation of "McEwan," Little Dougie's subtly phallic last name.)

Clue #4: Regina was reading upside down SURVIVORS OF THE CHANCELLOR by Jules Verne. In this book, a corrupt Captain illegally ships a dangerous cargo which catches fire in the hold. The survivors are adrift on a raft for almost two months, during which time, some of them resort to cannibalism. (Who would take this book with them on a sea voyage? Would you want United 93 as your in-flight movie?) One character in Verne's novel jumps off the raft and drowns rather than risk being eaten by THE OTHERS.


Clue #5: Regina then chains herself up and jumps overboard. (Speaking of Regina, a name that means "Queen," so I'm lucky I didn't marry her: I've figured out why she was so depressed that she was reading upside down, which is even harder than reading right side up. Remember dead Naomi, whose body they brought back to The Freighter? Remember dead Naomi's bracelet: "I'll love you always" or something like that, and signed "R.G."? Well, obviously Regina and Naomi were lesbian lovers. They were certainly both pretty butch, and it's about time we had some gay characters on LOST. Whoever heard of an airliner with no gay people on board? Not even one gay steward survived? Anyway, lesbians are like pigeons; they mate for life, so it's not surprising Regina was out of sorts.)


Clue #6: The hunky-but-irritable Captain, whom we were told not to trust (Like the Captain of The Chancellor), said: "Some of my crew have been dealing with what might best be described as a heightened case of cabin fever."


Clue #7: In Jin's flashback, it's The Year of the Dragon. Dragons breathe fire. The Chancellor burned for days and days. (And for what Jin spent on that stuffed panda, he could have bought a live one.)


Clue #8: Lapidus is off "Running an errand" in the helicopter for the Captain. Like a trip to the 7-11?


Clue #9: Hurley is very fat. He could feed the whole crew for weeks.


Clue #10: The Captain says they want Benjamin Linus. (Who doesn't, baby? But we should not trust the captain.)


Clue #11: Ben has "A man on the ship," (Darlings, I've got a man on every ship; often more than one.) and is a puppet-master-manipulator, so he's probably controlling them.


Clue #12: Hurley is where Ben is.


Clue #13: Myles Sturm is from the freighter. He's so hungry, he was last seen eating an explosive pineapple.


Clue #14: The last thing we heard Ben say to Hurley was "See you at dinner."


Oh my GOD! The freighter people are there to eat Hurley!

In the previews for next week's episode, we heard Ben say, "What wouldn't a man do for his son?" This from a son who personally gassed his father ("Roger Workman") to death, but who knows how to delegate, like when he assigned Locke the job of killing his father. (Locke subcontracted the job to Sawyer.) Ben's views on father-son relations don't strike me as healthy. But then, everyone on LOST has a dad who is a bastard, except Jin, whose fisherman father is a saint, so naturally, Jin is deeply ashamed of him. "Why can't I have a nasty evil dad like everyone else?"

Well, don't let the inevitability of Your Death get you down. After all, it's not all despair. At least there's necrophilia to look forward to. Which is why I'm learning to blow mummies.

Namaste darlings.

Too Many Cooks

NO! IT CAN NOT BE!! How can they have voted off delectable David Hernandez, and left still breathing that Creature of the Walking Dead, that hideous blond, c'untry singing horror who tried to turn 8 Days a Week into a ho-Down? That ho should have gone down!


It isn't fair! Certainly lovely David was somewhat disconnected from I Saw Her Standing There. Of course he was. They made him sing the original lyrics, rather than change it to I Saw Him Standing There. Hello? The second biggest news story of last week (According to TV News) after Governor Spitzer being revealed as a hypocrite of epic dimensions, was Davey being outed as a gay stripper. So then they have him singing about his passion for a girl? I'm afraid that the huge non-vote that took him off was a national collective "Oh please! Come out already."


Certainly Ben Linus is shocked, and that's a man who has weathered a lot of twists. (New Otherton has cable. All The Others loved American Idol, although the Castaways all watch Survivor, and snicker, and then try to vote Ben off the island.)



I would have to say that David gave me the most unenthusiastic lap dance I have ever received from a gay stripper, when he came by for his Consolation, Cheer-Up Shag after the elimination show. (As a new, strangely unpromoted, feature of the program this year, after each elimination show, the loser/reject is brought here to Morehead Heights for their complimentary Consolation, Cheer-Up Shag from Yours Truly, regardless of gender.) But I must ask you this: if David Hernandez had been a STRAIGHT male stripper, giving lap dances to frustrated Arizona housewives (a literally gigantic, and deeply terrifying, population), would he have gone to Morehead Heights this week, instead of that unspeakable bimbette who so viley desecrated that seminal Beatles song, which John and Sir Paul wrote FOR ME?



There are entirely Too Many Cooks on American Idol this season. David Cook can sing well enough, and while his approach on Eleanor Rigby was to take a lovely, simple, sad song, and turn it into something a little more over-the-top than a 1984 QUEEN Concert if Freddy Mercury had been dumpy, unattractive, and possessed of no hair sense, (David Cook has the worst hair of the show's Worst Hair Season Ever) nonetheless, it was BETTER THAN THAT COOK BIMBETTE'S MUSICAL ABORTION!


Not that I'm bitter, but I will feel better when I see Sir Paul standing ax-in-hand over Kristy Lee Cook's lifeless corpse, which lies in a growing pool of her own blood. Paul's been having a bad enough week already. The only good thing about it was it turned Mark David Chapman into a International Hero for killing John Lennon before he had to live to hear Ms. Cook take a dump on his delightful song on American TV.


Well, I'm sure David Hernandez will do well. Here is the cover shot for his first CD: Booted!


You must understand that The Beatles and I were very close. I left our relationship out of my award-dodging autobiography, My Lush Life, as I don't like to brag. All of the thousands of prominent world-leaders, stars, artists, and celebrities who have known, loved, and shagged the bloody Hell out of me over the last century or so will tell you (Or at least the handful of them that survive and are still capable of speech will), that I am not one to boast. This is one of the many great things about me that I love the most; my innate modesty. I may do a lot of blowing, but it's never my own horn. I'm just not that flexible anymore.


Back in The Beatles Liverpool days, while I was in England making Hammer horror movies, I was always hanging with the Pre-Fab Four, making us an X-Rated Five on occasion. I will say that Pete Best earned his name the hard way, and it was a sad day for me when he left, although Ringo has his nasal compensations. (The crannies he can thrust that schnoz into are amazing!) Anyway, 8 Days a Week was written to say in music how often they wanted to gang-rock me. Can you imagine how outraged I was to hear this C'untry Fair, theme-park, rockabilly arrangement proffered on a #1 TV show? At the bare minimum, she should be waterboarded.


This lovely picture of The Beatles and I was taken in Liverpool in 1963. I'm wearing a fabulous, brand-new turban, designed for me personally by Cecil Beaton to wear to the Ascot Races. As you can see, the design was based on a famous French dildo. I didn't wear it much, because it made me severly top-heavy, and I'm unsteady enough on my pins as it is.



I later learned to my chagrin, that The Beatles were only hanging out with me, sharing new intoxicants with me, and gang-rocking me because they thought I was the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, Oops. It's a common mistake. We are so identical, both in appearance and philosophy, that people have always had trouble telling us apart. I might add that, since Maha's death, the problem has only gotten worse! See our resemblance for yourself, check out this picture, snapped when Maha dropped by Morehead Heights to give me a lap dance.



The Beatles eventually realized their mistake when they asked me about "Transcendental Meditation," whatever the hell that is. They asked me, "Haven't you been teaching us how to achieve inner peace through TM, Mum?"


"Good God no, darlings! You need to pay closer attention, and Ringo, I'm talking to you! I never said a thing about TM? What the hell is TM? I was talking about achieving inner peace through TNM, which, as every schoolgirl, knows stands for Terrific Nipple Manipulation! Now off with those gloves boys; it's time for Lesson 13: The Ecstasy of Aureoles.


Little Dougie used to know Eleanor Rigby slightly when he worked at The Hollywood Reporter 22 years ago. She did not keep a face in a jar by the door. (Though Little Dougie does, and I dread asking him where he got it or whose face it is. Is there a Missing Persons Report out on a pale-skinned man with a red handlebar mustache and a mole shaped like Oklahoma under his right eye? Never mind. I do not want to know!) She did, however, meet John Lennon by chance at a party back in the early 60s, and he took a fancy to her name, and gave her a form of immortality as the embodiment of Pathetic Old Losers. Thanks John.


Frankly, despite Ryan's constant mantra of how this is "The Strongest Cast We've Ever Had," this is a pretty lame bunch of singers, as their trepidations amongst the immortal, simple melodies of Lennon & McCartney showed, and they're going to do it again next week! By all means! There are still dozens of great Lennon-McCartney songs to mangle, maul, and crap all over. No one turned Yesterday into a rap; they haven't yet made I Want to Hold Your Hand into a Heavy Metal Goth nightmare, A Day in the Life has yet to be made into a power ballad for an overwrought would-be Whitney Huston. Oh goodie.


I do enjoy Amanda Overmeyer. She fills the void I've had since Janis Joplin caught the Last Chevy to the Trevy. (I didn't go, because I'd heard the Trevy was dry. Not my scene, and I wouldn't have thought it was Janis's either.) Well, she hasn't filled my void yet, but she will the week she's eliminated, because Rocker Chicks never win American Idol. At best, she might finish third. And Amanda isn't just a Rocker Chick. She's a Bluesy-Biker-Nurse-Rocker Chick with a whisky-voice, which must be why I love her. Oh, and when she sings, she has a Wide Stance, like Senator Larry Craig in a public toilet stall. (Same pants too, although Larry wears his under his suit pants.) And then there's Amanda's Look, which is, after all, nothing more nor less than Classic Hollywood Look. Look!




I love her. I'm afraid of her. I want her in the worst way: standing in a hammock. Might I be the Bride of Overmeyer? She did, after all, turn You Can’t Do That into a growly leather rocker, Dykes-on-Bikes, anthem of sexual harassment. That's entertainment!

The most surprising trend on American Idol this year isn't all the Davids, it isn't even Too Many Cooks, it's the plethora of daughters of Latin Dictators. We have Fidel Castro's daughter Jason...

And of course, up until last week, we had Manuel Noriega's daughter Danielle.

Following Amanda's lead, Little Jason has also opted for a Classic Hollywood Look. Now if she'd only follow her example of being an exciting singer, but I'm afraid that's outside her range.

I think a more interesting look for Jason, would be for her to embrace her roots, and adopt the look of her famous father, who certainly knows a thing or two about being a success. How many countries have you ruled with an iron fist for 50 years?

So now we know, when Fidel gave up power last month (Bear that in mind, every President since Eisenhower, and the CIA. He's leaving on His Terms in His Own Time. In half a century, you couldn't unseat the man who was actually ready to bring the whole world down in flames in 1962. Yes, you were all really impressive on Cuba --- Not!), why he gave the power to his brother, and not to his daughter Jason. Not even Fidel is crazy enough to empower this dork.


As for Little Danielle, well now we know where she got her insane, senseless sense of entitlement. Only being raised by people who could be shot if she went whining to Daddy could have spoiled that girl so badly that she acted like she was doing America a favor by allowing them to vote for her. (She probably expected Daddy to fix the voting. Hard to do from prison, Danielle.) The way she just looked disgusted, and rolled her eyes in boredom whenever Simon offered her much-needed advice on how to improve her horrible performance really plucked my annoyance string. I was amused when she dismissed Simon's last bit of constructive criticism by once again making the "Loser" hand-gesture at her head. Yes, what stings a billionaire who co-owns and co-stars on the number one TV show on three continents more than being called a loser by a spoiled teenager who has just been kicked off said TV show by a massive vote of the citizenry? How did Simon endure it?

At least he has something to fall back on.

I'm just glad they don't do eliminations on American Idol the way they've been doing them on Big Brother. Over the last two weeks, first dumpy-but-loveable Ryan got evicted with some boring bimbo - oh yes, Allison - but he couldn't get out the locked door, was brought back, uneliminated, and then made Head of Housdehold. This week, silly-orange-Mohawk-haired, over-tattooed (That tattoo they keep blurring out on his shoulder? It has crucifixes in it's design. It's not dirty or obscene. It's blurred out to avoid offending Christians. Blurry images for blurry thinkers. Meanwhile, we get to see that other boring bimbo pouring over her Bible, for God's advice on winning reality TV competitions.), and extremely well-endowed (Check out his gay porn shots on the Internet. That boy has three legs. Oooh-la-la!) James was eliminated -- for 10 minutes, and then he was brought back and made Head of Household. Big Brother, let them go! And American Idol, do NOT bring back Noriega, although if you sneak Luke Maynard back in, I'll gladly give him head in my household!

Meanwhile, is Jin dead in the future or not? Michael is on the freighter, but he's not one of the Oceanic 6? I'm confused!

Cheers darlings.