Showing posts with label Neuticle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neuticle. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

"Alien v. Predator" Finally Has a Worthy Sequel: Spice Rack to Take On the Jowly Green Giant















That's the scoop that our pal Lesley of Eater LA brings us. On Sunday, October 14, in Los Angeles, California, Betty "Spice Rack" Fraser will go funbags to (smaller) funbag with CJ "Jowly Green Giant" Jacobson in a cook-off.

CJ, possum, you'd best be careful. You may have survived Arianna Huffington, but Spice Rack is a real ball-buster, a giant-killer.

"Hell, she's a man-eater," Miss XaXa concurred. "Just look at that picture. It looks like she's eating CJ's remaining..."

"Now, now," we hastened to interject. And with good reason, for Lesley has another scoop up her sleeve (she could work at Baskin-Robbins). But don't click unless you want to view an extremely plausible spoiler alert about the finale.

For those of you who don't care, go fish.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Jowly Green Giant Wins Frozen-Food Challenge (Natch), Comes Out as One of the Ungay (Snatch)
















Possums, the Ungay--they walk among us.

We learned this from our pal Lesley at Eater LA, who in turn learned it during her exclusive interview with the Jowly Green Giant, CJ Jacobson:

You mentioned that a friend told you someone in a chat room asked if you're gay. They actually said, "So is this tall drink of water gay?"

Those fuckers. I almost have a problem being too ungay.

"Oh no he di'in't," we thought to ourselves.

"Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an insecure man," said Miss XaXa, snapping her fingers in her best RuPaul.

Well, actually, we were confused more than outraged by his statement, so much so that we tried to diagram the sentence on the back of an envelope, just the way Mrs. McDougal taught us when we were wee bairns, new to this country and learning the lingo. All to no avail.

As we have mentioned before, CJ has the most peculiar and interesting syntax and vocabulary, well worthy of study if representative of SoCal surfers and volleyball players, something along the lines of, "The Crawfish Fell Awry: A Study of Fricatives and Metaphors Among the Tribes of Palos Verdes."

But this statement is just a masterpiece. We start with "ungay," and figure he must mean "straight," and then "too"--too straight? Is that possible? And then he has a problem with being too straight? Does that mean being too straight, whatever that means, gets him into trouble? Or does it mean that he has difficulty being too straight? Oh, but wait, there's another modifier. He almost has a problem. So does that mean he is too straight, but doesn't have a problem? It's enough to make Wittgenstein (who was gay) weep and say, "Told you so."

"Please stop; my head hurts," pleaded Miss XaXa. She gets worried when she sees that gleam in our eye, a worry that was not dispelled when we argued that CJ's statement is actually a publicist's goldmine, and that he ought to license it for use by high-profile Hollywood actors, so that when anyone goes asking questions of, oh, say, Tom Cruise, John Travolta, Wentworth Miller, or Jake Gyllenhaal, they can all say, "I almost have a problem being too ungay." It's genius, chloroform in verbal form.

We turned for enlightenment and analgesia to UrbanDictionary.com:

1. Ungay

(or Un-gay) Heterosexual

Don't trust him, after all he's one of the ungay!

2. Ungay

(Pronoun, adj.) equivalent to the words "undead" and "zombie", however, used to describe a zombie which is gay. Also may be used to define a homosexual who has crossed over to the straight world. The word originated one late night at a Dennys in San Diego, 2002, during a topic about independent zombie films.

This town has been overrun by the Ungay! They rose from their graves and started humping everybody!

3. Ungay

To make less gay.
To make straight.

That remake of Straight Up by Halifax is way better than the original. It's ungayed
.

4. Ungay

an action taken by people to try to correct their previous sentences from sounding gay or gayish. often ends up in no avail.
(usually implied in instant messages and chatrooms)

(C and E are guys)
C : why didn't you bring your phone, at least the vibrations will wke you up.
C : *realises and begins process of ungay-ing. oh shit, i mean the vibration in your pocket when you receive messages
E: wtf?


Ok, so CJ's not gay. He's a zombie. Well, that clears things up.

Then we remembered CJ's exchange with Howie on the last episode, where Howie looked like even more of a "douche" (another favorite terms of the PalosVerdians) because he, like, didn't get that, like, OC good ole boy CJ was, like, being sarcastic.

"Well, maybe he was joking," we said to Miss XaXa. "Perhaps we ought to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"As long as we know that we don't want Don't Ask, Don't Tell turning into Don't Ask the Tall."

OK, CJ, so you got the benefit of the doubt. But just in case, the Feather Boa Brigade and the Glitter Squadron are on standby and ready to attack the Beanstalk and the Magic Beans. Ok, Magic Bean.

Monday, July 09, 2007

First Reaction, Part 3: Discomfort Food

Now comes the much-hyped hot tub scene, which is remarkable mainly because Brian “Asshat” Malarkey actually gets into the hot tub without his hat. We’re shocked. As it is, we sort of envision his headgear as a kind of talking, Harry Potter-style Sorting Hat, whispering into Brian’s ear, “You’re so money, baby,” and we can only imagine the distress at their parting. After all, what’s an Asshat without his hat? Merely an ass. In a brilliant example of Bravo Foreshadowing™, Asshat jokes how it’s all fun and games until you’re before Colicchio during Judges’ Table. Cue Bernard Herrmann.

It’s the next day, and everyone is at the Elks Lodge. Tom is doing his troop inspection, during which he learns that Camille loves “chuna.” We remain fascinated with her speech patterns, the way she speaks…so…slowly, and the way she pronounces her “t”s. We still remember how, during one Quickfire Challenge, she talked about how she loves to flavor things with “cheese,” only to realize, as she kept talking, that she meant “teas.” We’ll get to our fascination with her eyebrows in a different post.

CJ mangles yet another French word in this episode. Having set him straight on “froots de mare,” we feel compelled gently to point out that “tuile” is pronounced “tweel,” not “twill.”

Sara and her chicken à la king are joined by Howie at the oven, and we clearly hear her ask Howie to “turn it up to 300 for [her].” She returns later to find that the oven is on cool-down. Hung tells the camera that he turned the oven off after his chickens finished roasting, but he tells her that he didn’t turn anything off. It’s a fabulous, eyebrow-plucking, Gong Li move, but be careful, Hung, lest someday the chickens à la king come home to roast.

CJ confesses that he is struggling. He is having difficulty plating his dish, which repeatedly crumbles: “I know it’s not going to totally stay up; it’s not going to stay all erect.”

Of course, we chortle, as Bravo no doubt intends us to, but then we wonder whether it is right for Bravo (and us) to make erectile dysfunction jokes about a man with a Neuticle.

And Miss XaXa reminds us that there was female imagery as well: “My sauce broke” and “When I added the tuna, it leaked out all its juices.”

He greets the judges (Alfred Portale, Tom Colicchio, Ted Allen, and Padma, Lady Rushdie) thus: “Hello, chefs and Padma.” There’s something quite right and quite droll about this, everything in its place; Ted can be a chef, but Padma can’t. And then he mispronounces “tuile” again. Ted pronounces CJ’s dish “very grassy, green,” which prompts Miss XaXa to yell, her eyes atwinkle, “Of course! Jowly Green Giant, that’s what we’ll call him.”

The other chefs present their dishes, and then it’s Micah’s turn. In introducing her meatloaf, she notes, “I know Americans like to put ketchup on…” and Alfred Portale and his slender-fingered musician’s hands, crossed across his chest, are not pleased with what he terms “a little attitude.” Verdict: “It’s terrible.”

Asshat—did he think the old folks would look kindly on the retro chapeau?—presents a lobster dish, but, surprisingly, no cutesy name for it.

And we’re back at Judges’ Table, where Ted Allen describes CJ’s dish as a “big, green blob.” Ho, ho, ho, Green Giant indeed. Tom torpedoes Micah’s dish as “the meatloaf that keeps giving.”

“Like herpes,” Miss XaXa chimed in.

The two favorite dishes are Howie’s and Dale’s. Having been in the bottom, and now in the top, Miss XaXa points out, makes Dale officially versatile. Good news, Gays. Nonetheless, the dead father narrative arc wins out, and Howie is the victor of the challenge.

There are five people in the bottom this time around, Micah, Sara, CJ, Lia and Brian. Fittingly enough, with five people and CJ standing right in the center, it looks like a giant middle finger being given to the judges.

The Bravo Foreshadowing™ is justified by Asshat’s presence in the bottom five, despite having immunity, and by the dressing down Tom gives him: “You’re gonna have to start looking at meat at some point.” Asshat resists the obvious comeback, as do we. It was all fun and games and stupid hats, wasn’t it, until he was indeed in front of Colicchio. Asshat silently swears (we surmise) never again to joke in the hot tub.

The U.S. citizen who went to middle school and high school in Massachusetts and who admitted in an interview to having made turkey meat loaf for her clients pretends never to have seen meatloaf before: “They showed it to me yesterday and it was just a round of ground beef and brown gravy.”

Sara also tries the foreigner defense for not being familiar with American comfort food: “I’m from Jamaica.” Ahem. Why, then, didn’t she pick the fried chicken and macaroni cheese when she had the chance, since, as she told the Jamaica Gleaner News, “Both my grandmothers were excellent cooks. One was a very rustic cook. She was from the Turks and Caicos Islands, so she cooked macaroni and cheese and fricassee chicken and all that good stuff”? In other words, she knew how to cook mac ‘n’ cheese and all that good stuff. Indeed, as the paper points out, “[s]he started out making French toast and muffins for her family as a four-year-old.”

Portale tells CJ that his dish was “so green, so green that it was frightening.” Yup, Jowly Green Giant is definitely sticking.

Lia is chided for not doing enough, which prompts her to utter the immortal line, “I guess I didn’t really understand how complex franks and beans are.” Honey, welcome to Gender Studies 101. FTMs across the land salute you.

There’s a commercial break, and then Bravo is about to announce the results of the phone poll as to whether Joey or Howie is the better cook, but not before showing Padma spanking Tom with what looks like a wooden spoon. “Oh my,” says Miss XaXa. We’ve got it taped, but if anyone has a screencap, we’d be mighty grateful.

In the end, Fauxmicah is pykagged and, rednosed and crying, manages to stir the depths of Jamie Lee Curtis’ soul in a New York bar.

And so it goes, possums.