Synopsis
So, I realize that growing up without MTV and all, I might not be the definitive expert on comparisons between music videos that were on MTV twenty years ago versus the music videos that are played today. I also realize that it's hard to compare videos played on MTV versus those played at its inception because it hardly plays videos anymore. I also also realize that as it stands, I kind of have an unhealthy obsession with some of it's current programming (See: Pimp My Ride, See also: Made, See Also: Next: See Also, Date My Mom, See Also: Room Raiders, I told you it was an unhealthy obsession!) and therefore I might not be able to talk logically on the topic, but I assure, I'm convinced I can.
Case 1: Eighties Madonna Vs. Madonna of today
It could be argued that the Madonna that warbled "Like a Virgin" is a very different one from the Madonna falling off of horses and wearing a red string and starring in her husband's crappy movie that we know and love (well that one could be argued really) today. The musical Madonna of today has re-invisioned herself as a techno-pop queen which, not necessarily a totally 180 from the earlier Madonna, is somewhat of a change. Basically, she remade herself into Cher but with less of a gay following. You know what, scratch the last part. But I am not judging on music alone. I am judging this on audio and video. And lately, the video part has been letting her down.
I realize I haven't seen "Like a Virgin" and "Papa don't Preach" in a decade, but the Madonna presented in those videos, despite the five-bijillion layers of chiffon and lace and black fingerless gloves, was still a presense containing both sexuality and individuality. The Madonna of the present? Is HUMPING A BOOM BOX IN A PINK SATIN UNITARD WITH A PURPLE (PURPLE!!! GAH) SEQUINED SASH. IN FARAH FAWCITT HAIR FOR GOD SAKES!! I wish I could find a screen capture of this, but you'll just have to believe me when I say this. The Look? Not sexy, not expressing individuality, unless said individuality has the sole purpose of repulsing me, in which case, it totally worked. I know that thanks to the 90's, we all know way more than we need to know about Madonna's vagina and other places related to that region, but Jesus Christ woman, I didn't need to see that much of your butt-flap all right? Also, the cottage cheese starting to form on your back end there? Not a good look for you. Really. No, Really.
In conclusion, my ruling in the comparison of 80's Madonna versus the Present Madonna is definately in favor of the 80's Madonna. Because for better or worse, at the least in the eighties, there was no PINK UNITARD!!!
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Stall Etiquitte
So, I rarely talk about work here (well, I did make an exception), because I don't want it to have any ramifications at work, but I feel there is something work-related that bares saying. Whether or not you want to believe it, there is stall etiquitte, damn it. I expect you to follow said etiquitte because it is the decent thing to do.
The one rule that I have always believed in, which apparantly not many people actually practice, is that if a person is already in a stall, it is not appropriate to start or carry on a conversation with the person already in the stall, unless both stalls or full, in which case, the conversation should be of the "Are going to be in there long?" variety with a short answer, thus ending the stall conversation. I think trying to carry on a conversation with a coworker while the extricating fluids and/or solids is rude. May not be the norm, but it's a rule I live by. A few exceptions can be made, like complimenting a stall occupant with nice footwear, but even that can be invasive, and therefore should be avoided.
Under no circumstances should you start a conversation with a stall occupant about how badly you have to extricate your own fluids, how you are having problems with the plumbing at your house, and how you had to extricate fluids at 1:00 in the morning and WOKE UP YOUR HOUSEHOLD. In the process of a rather loud extrication of your own fluids at that exact moment. Gross! I didn't want to know that. Now I can't unknow that. I didn't want to be subjected to that conversation, but I couldn't remove myself from the conversation in a comfortable, non-rude manner, so I had to be held prisoner in the stall while you bored me and simultaneously revolted me with stories of your bladder's goings-on! You madam, have no stall manners. You are bumped back to stall etiquitte 101. Good day madam, I said good day!!!
Wish I was windsurfing:
The Bloody Munchkin.
P.s. Don't think I didn't notice that you didn't wash your hands. That's duelly noted. I'm bringing in handi-wipes next time.
So, I rarely talk about work here (well, I did make an exception), because I don't want it to have any ramifications at work, but I feel there is something work-related that bares saying. Whether or not you want to believe it, there is stall etiquitte, damn it. I expect you to follow said etiquitte because it is the decent thing to do.
The one rule that I have always believed in, which apparantly not many people actually practice, is that if a person is already in a stall, it is not appropriate to start or carry on a conversation with the person already in the stall, unless both stalls or full, in which case, the conversation should be of the "Are going to be in there long?" variety with a short answer, thus ending the stall conversation. I think trying to carry on a conversation with a coworker while the extricating fluids and/or solids is rude. May not be the norm, but it's a rule I live by. A few exceptions can be made, like complimenting a stall occupant with nice footwear, but even that can be invasive, and therefore should be avoided.
Under no circumstances should you start a conversation with a stall occupant about how badly you have to extricate your own fluids, how you are having problems with the plumbing at your house, and how you had to extricate fluids at 1:00 in the morning and WOKE UP YOUR HOUSEHOLD. In the process of a rather loud extrication of your own fluids at that exact moment. Gross! I didn't want to know that. Now I can't unknow that. I didn't want to be subjected to that conversation, but I couldn't remove myself from the conversation in a comfortable, non-rude manner, so I had to be held prisoner in the stall while you bored me and simultaneously revolted me with stories of your bladder's goings-on! You madam, have no stall manners. You are bumped back to stall etiquitte 101. Good day madam, I said good day!!!
Wish I was windsurfing:
The Bloody Munchkin.
P.s. Don't think I didn't notice that you didn't wash your hands. That's duelly noted. I'm bringing in handi-wipes next time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)