Nicki Minaj (The Mirage of Talent)

Alright, so I have not had much time to share my wisdom with the world lately, but after seeing the outfits for the Grammy's I just HAD to tell the world my story in regards to the "infamous" Nicki Minaj.

This is hard because I don't even know where to start. 

Let's start off by letting you all know right now that I am NOT about to RAVE about Nicki Minaj - so if you are one of those mindless people that inexplicably loves whatever is flashed in front of your face or is easily brainwashed by the insanely overplayed "hits" on the radio, don't bother. Put your iPod back onto shuffle and drown out the real world with the schizophrenic ramblings of your newest teen idol, please. 

Now, if you are offended by what I have just said go back and listen to some of the lyrics this girl "spits". Completely non-sensical. Don't believe me? Here you are (Exhibit A) :

"Tell them hoes stoppington; they know they want everything that we be coppington”

"Stop sniffin that contraband cuz you was penny pinchin my accounts laced. Attention! About face"

"Somehow I understood him when he spoke thai, never spoke lies and never broke fly"

"You're slicker than the guy with the thing on his eye"

"He could ball with the crew, he could solo, But I think I like him better when he dolo"

I mean, what the hell?!?! Does anyone actually listen to the shit she is saying? It's ridiculous if not just downright ludicrous. She does not belong on the top charts anywhere - this girl belongs in a fucking nut house where she can take pills to try and quiet the crazy voices in her head. Or atleast sort them out - if you think someone with a thing on their eye is slick, you need help. Plain and simple. 

Now if you are still doubtful of just how much acid this girl drops - I will bring you right to Exhibit B. Get ready for it...

 This looks like something a crackhead would pick out the VV boutique and then sport on their next street corner conquest for $5.20 (cause let's be honest, a hooker in this outfit will take two extra dimes wherever she can)

 This is a Willy Wonka space outfit - which is actually quite fitting for this Space Cadet - Still hideous though

This is one of my favourites. She reminds me of a discoloured Smurfette. And don't tell me it's not true - 

CHECK IT:

It looks like one of those living-art tableaus... only created by an Egyptian on opium. 

It is almost as though the gold pieces are part of some torture device, trying to entangle her and kill her. Though, that would be doing the world a favour...  

My mother-in-law. HA! Kidding. But seriously this is so retro 80s, it's HAMMERTIME!

And then last but definitely NOT least...

Really?! Calm down LadyGaga/Madonna (who I am convinced may be the same person at this point).  It's the Grammy's - I know the acid is getting to you, but despite the hopped up, tripped out convoluted thoughts floating around in your head, you are not visiting the Vatican today. Your calendar must be all fogged up from the powder.

Yes, you did draw some attention to yourself - as the strangest outfit of life, but frankly - do you want to be the LadyGaga egg or the Bjork swan of 2012?!? These are things people will laugh at in years to come when they hear your name. Considering your level of talent, most likely the only thing they actually remember. Pray you marry Mr. Drake from Degrassi: it is your only hope to being mentioned anywhere after your 15 minutes are up!

LAWTON-OUT

"The Miserable"

Alright well, it has been a few days and it's been a whirlwind at work. Lots to do and not enough time to blog and work. *sigh* Generally, this is not an issue for me so I will not complain. 


However,... today I saw the cast of the new Les Miserables movie and I just had to tell the world what I think about it: 


Amanda Seyfried was cast as Cossette. Yes, I just said that. Travesty of the umpteenth degree.


It makes me want to throw my lunch up in my little blue garbage pail at the side of my desk. I imagine the casting directors feel the same way right now - or they should from the stench of their failure on this one. Am I saying she CAN'T be Cossette? - Nooooo,... that would  be overly judgmental of me. Am I saying she should not be Cossette? Abso-fucking-lutely. 


It's like I am the only person in the world who realizes that Amanda Seyfried looks like the human incarnation of those creepy Celestial Eye Goldfish! Why are your eyes so big?!? - and more importantly, why do you still get to act alongside the hottest men in the world (i.e Justin Timberlake, Channing Tatum and Hugh Jackman) despite that fact? If the media is trying to make me feel like even a regular girl like myself can get these heart throbs than thank you for that, but something tells me that's not it. I think they have actually fooled themselves into believing she really IS hot - as if she hit her movie quota for hotness or something. But, can anyone name a guy who has Amanda Seyfried on the top of their "Elevator List"?? Didn't think so. 


Keep your globe-sized eyeballs and get out of what was supposed to be my most anticipated movie of the year. Goddammit! This is not Letters to John, Amanda - your half-assed acting is just not going to cut it and will, in turn, ruin what could have been the most epic film adaptation of a musical in this day and age. And, I knowwww... it's not your fault, but to the casting directors:


I hope you're proud of yourselves.

LAWTON OUT.

Wine & Bleach

So last night I made a string of wildly ridiculous observations after the application of bleach blonde hair dye which may or may not have been in there too long and 3/4 of a bottle of wine. 


1) I cry at almost anything mildly emotional. I am not talking about those commercials about abused pets or starving children in Africa (though these are two types of commercials banned from my viewing for that reason), but things like the Olympics. I am that person that actually cried watching BOLT (an animated tale of a dog - made for small children) and not because the dog died or anything (no no) but because at the end he finds his little girl again. If someone's dream is coming true, or they are falling in love, or their heart was just broken, or they lost their animal, or the cool kid stuck up for them, or they won, or they lost - I am crying like baby. The one that gets me EVERYTIME is 'TV love.' Anything that has anything to do with TV love is too much for me. Real love - HA! Piece of cake. There are no ridiculous songs being sung outside windows, or someone purchasing a star in your name in real life okay? The most romantic real love gets for me is East Side Mario's on a Saturday - or my fiance offering to pay for ALL the groceries this time since I am low on cash this pay cheque. Nothing to be deemed tear-worthy.


2) Free-bras remind me of chicken cutlets. In fact, it appears they also feel like chicken cutlets. Which makes me wonder why we would ever bother wearing them in the first place. I can barely get myself to handle raw chicken to make a meal, never mind stick it on my breasts for what they have decided to call 'support'. When I look like I just walked out of a 70s film in the heat of August, you cannot call it 'support'. They should look like Meghan Fox not bloody flapjacks. Though, if you ever get stuck on a date wherein your new interest MUST see these hideous excuses for a bra, all you have to say is this: "Annnnddd (like you have another surprise for him)... I brought dinner." Give a cutsey little Vanna White pose and smile. Hopefully he'll laugh. Let's face it, the alternative is having to stare at his disgusted face as you peel these things off and wipe your breasts down with a baby wipe because otherwise your chest will start collecting all sorts of souvenirs (dog hair, fluff, sheets). 




LAWTON OUT