Shhh...It's a Secret

Last night I watched the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show.  Well, I watched as much of it as I could before my dog went ape shit over the feather and wing creations and I had to turn it off.  This happens 100% of the time something resembles an animal on TV.  I have come to the sad realization that my children will never be able to watch the Little Mermaid or Homeward Bound, lest Rosie go barking ballistic on them and ruin their childhoods.

 

Source

 

I couldn't help but wonder during this "fashion show":  What, pray tell, is the point?  Besides the obvious: Making women feel bad about their normal bodies and giving men totally unrealistic expectations about how much space can truly exist between a woman's thighs.

 

Source

 

The models don't actually wear normal things you can buy in the store.  Thereby negating any logical reason I can see for this to be considering marketing for the Victoria's Secret brand.  If I was on the market for a $10,000,000 bra, sure this would be the perfect venue for me to see what's out there.  But the average viewer is probably sitting on her couch with in $20 sweat pants with the word PINK on her butt, with her husband- mouth agape.  Not your target market for 8-figure bedazzled bras and crotchless panties paired with angel wings.  But that's just my humble opinion.

 



Source



 

As I was flipping back between the Victoria's Secret show and the American Country Awards, which even the hosts seemed to understand isn't a real award show, I couldn't help but think of my dead ancestors.  If they just happened to be revived and caught a glimpse of these two shows at once, they would probably think the world had, indeed, come to an end.  Either that or look both ways to see if anyone is looking, pull an Irish exit, and head on back to the ground from whence they came. 

 

Source

 

Basically last night was a stupid night for America.  A hot, sexy, honky tonkin', stupid night.

 

Honkeytonk Ridonkadonk

Did you catch the CMA’s last night? If you know anything about me, you know I love a good awards show. And this year’s Country Music Awards didn’t disappoint…but most because it did disappoint and it was so entertainingly awkward that I loved it.

I was Blackberry Messaging my ass off with my sister during the whole things and these are just a few of our observations:

- Brad and Carrie: Overscripted, overacted, but totally expected. And I would kill for her legs.

- Taylor Swift – Thanks for making me feel not so average by wearing a totally unremarkable merino crew neck sweater from J.Crew. Or Gap. Or any store where most girls shop. Maybe you were trying to keep it real, but how am I supposed to know which celebrities to covet if I don’t know that your outfit cost more than my annual salary. Also, that song was terrible. And your set looked identical to my studio apartment in DC. That is not an impressive thing.

- Rascal Flatts and Natasha Beddingfield. I love that song. But I do not love middle aged white men in sparkly graphic t’s. And Natasha, good try on the dramatic performance, but this was the CMAs. Not the mother freakin Tonys bitch. Oh and you’re skirt made you look like Ursula from the Little Mermaid. But instead of Flotsom and Jetsom as your kickass sidekicks, you just had some nasally jabrone with frosted tips singing in an octave that no man should ever attempt.

- Luke Bryan, I have no idea who you are. But it's quite clear that in a production of West Side Story, you would undoubtedly be a Jet.

- Now to the good stuff – Hootie and the Blowfish Lionel Richie. Although Lionel Richie makes about as much sense on the CMAs as Miss Piggy…oh wait, she was there too…his voice is golden and that’s all I care about. And Hootie/Darius Rucker – It’s true what they say. BLACK DON’T CRACK. That cowboy hat-wearin brotha doesn’t look a day older than he did when he first started singing to let dem bitches CRYYYYY, let the tears fall down her face.

- But seriously, was Lionel headlining this thing? He was in way more performances than any of the actual country singers. This is strange, no?

I really liked how they closed the show by putting Carrie Underwood in a hideous green curtain from the 70s, and Reba McIntyre wearing the green felt from the bottom of a Christmas tree.

Way to keep me on the edge of my seat until next year.

I Heart Award Shows!