Ah, the innocent days of 2008. When recession, war and high-profile celebrity deaths became the glue to bond us together like societal Siamese siblings. But now it's 2009, a whole new era, a whole new ballgame. And not just for Washington, who will call Barack Obama their overlord, or the New York Yankees, who will take the field with C.C. Sabathia and Mark Texeira and still manage to lose the pennant to smaller-budgeted organizations.
It is the final stand for celebrity land in a decade that has alternately enthralled and repulsed us. It is a time for Hollywood to make its mark on culture and the planet at large, and really give 'em the good stuff we all cream for in the tabloids.
And we got off to an intermittently intriguing start, thanks largely to the birth of what could have been the First Granddaughter-in-waiting, and a certain wayward actress' parent who may love his share of his daughter's spotlight more than the woman herself. So without any pregnant pauses, here's the top 5 things NCDSUV learned this week.
4. Paul McCartney may have had to navigate Heather Mills' body sexually despite her prosthetic leg, but at least he didn't have to stick around till midnight to ritualistically spray-tan the thing.
They say Levi Johnston, soon-to-be-husband of Bristol Palin, son of recent drug-ring arrestee Sherry Johnston and future-son-in law of Alaskan Governor/never-would-have-been-VP candidate Sarah Palin, is an apprentice electrician. Sounds more to me like the only apprenticeship he'll never graduate from is being indentured in the Palin family for all the rest of his eternally damned days.
As you likely heard through the apple-blossom-vine, the Palin/Johnston child-bearing tandem gave birth this past Sunday to Tripp Easton Mitchell Johnston. Which means their son has two options: Become a stately senator who spawns generations of same-named kin, or a racecar driver. But the only one behind the wheel of poor Levi's life is his socially Satanic (er, I mean conservative) surrogate mom, Sarah, especially now that Levi's matriarch somehow trumps her in hypocritical irresponsibility.
In a s statement, Sarah and her husband Todd referred to Levi rather coldly as "the young man," and remarked that he and Bristol are "going to realize very quickly the difficulties of raising a child."
Which is code for, "You fucked up and impregnated our underage daughter with your demon dick, and because of our puritanical value system and misguided run for major governmental candidacy, you're stuck owning up to that decision by raising this kid when you're barely old enough to have voted for me and John McCain, and then marrying Bristol and sacrificing all your individual hopes and dreams."
Sucks to be you kid. Well, both Levi and Tripp that is.
Ah, the last week before the Christmas-time blitz of abusive commercialism and schmaltzy, ceremonial sentimentality. A time for celebrities to get one last headline blast before the world pretends to care about religion and family more than the dogma of tabloid culture for a few days.
Fortunately for us, there was no shortage of boob-flashing, divorce scuttlebutt and rehab-hyjinks. So without further prolonged pause, here are the top five things we here at NCDSUV (and we hope you as well) have learned this week:
4. Tara Reid, not to be outdone by her more youthful underlings Lindsay Lohan et al, finally went into rehab for undisclosed reasons. We're guessing it's because she's been chronically addicted to an illicit co-dependent substance, but what the heckfire do we know?
Pop quiz: What's more gratifying? Finding out that Levi Johnston's mother, Sherry Johnston, was arrested on six (!) counts of felony, narcotics-related misconduct, or reading about on FOX News' website? Trick question. They're equally heeeelarious.
So wait, you're surprised that the mother of an underaged Alaskan teenager who tattooed Bristol Palin's name on his ring finger would be white trash enough to get embroiled in a massive drug stakeout? I mean, with the hundreds of thousands of dollars his mother-in-law-to-be, Sarah Palin, spent on classing up her wardrobe and, by proxy, the reputation of her Hills Have Eyes-worthy extended family, this was no doubt a shock to several unsuspecting citizens.
Man, oh man, if only this news emerged during the election. Would have been pretty fascinating to see the conservative spinmeisters turn this into further evidence for Palin's persistence in the face of constant personal turmoil.
Ugh, I just got post-election hangover douchechills.
After exhausting my spontaneous observational blogging energy last night, I decided to experience Obama's victory, and John McCain's concession, among the masses.
And while there were a fair share of thoughtlessly reactionary, self-satisfied young lefties hurling mean-spirited insults at McCain at my designated watering hole, it was hard to obscure the tact and authentic passion with which the somewhat disgraced Arizona Senator delivered his speech.
Sure, he awkwardly tapdanced around the racial aspect, bumbling through references to Obama being "African-American" and congratulating America's minority population. Yes, the waning moments of his words were wrapped in a fair amount of naively hopeful jingoistic rhetoric.
But it was genuine, humble, thoughtful and profoundly moving, and an incredible serve to his victorious counterpart that further enabled Obama to volley back with equal grace and conviction.
OK folks. No more conjecture. No more tomfoolery. No more advantageous list features and daily commentary exploring the cultural shrapnel of the buildup to Election 2008. Consider all that the featherweight undercard to the heavyweight main event between Barack Obama and John McCain; the foreplay to the candidates' electoral tango; the peaceful Native American residency before the slaughter of Christopher Columbus and his fellow explorers; the... yeah, you get the idea.
By the end of tonight, only man will stand alive atop the steaming shitheap of economic recession and international entanglements that is the U.S. government, and the media (god bless 'em) are here to give us blow by biased, results-happy blow on the path to their poll-determined fate.
And thankfully, NCDSUV is here not so much to complement their skewed stab at proper journalistic scrutiny, but to take a magnifying glass to the larger tangential proceedings over the next four or so hours. So sit, back, enjoy, and say a prayer for democracy. Unless you're a Commie liberal. Then just count the hours till the almighty is resurrected and smites all you heathens anyway.
7:00 p.m. Testing, testing, one, two... is this thing on? Ah, excellent. One small step for blog kind.
7:01 p.m. Woah, woah, woah, let a guy get his footing. Charles Gibson's already calling Kentucky for McCain and Vermont for Obama on ABC. Which is sort of like boldly projecting a life of loneliness and despair for a high school class' biggest nerd and unwarranted success and endless casual sex for its homecoming king.
7:05 p.m. I intended to make a comment about the absurdity of NBC's regal "digital studios," but got sidetracked perusing red carpet pictures of their green-screen queen Anne Curry. Anyway, they're ridiculous.
7:11 p.m. I shall only refer to CBS analyst/former Bill Clinton Press Secretary Dee Dee Myers by her given name of Margaret Jane. At least until it's clear that any references to Margaret Jane don't translate to the readers and I undermine my larger point.
7:13 p.m. Wow, only 13 minutes in and CBS just lost audio on two of Katie Couric's correspondents. Haven't they spent the last several hours preparing to at least be solid gold right off the bat? I mean, it's not like you see me sandwiching multiple posts at once and pretending as if it's in real time because I can't keep up with the pace. Yeah, it's not like that at all.
7:19 p.m. Let the gimmickry begin! Take that, NBC's digital studios. CNN's beaming Jessica Yellin in from Chicago via a motherfucking hologram. It is, as Yellin suggested to Wolf Blitzer, very a la Princess Leia being transmitted to Luke Skywalker via R2-D2. And good thing Wolf and Jessica just wasted two minutes giggling over their nifty technology and talking about Star Wars. This is going to only get more inane per minute.
7:24 p.m. Shepard Smith (who knew he'd be anchoring MY9 in New York?) is calling a one percent lead for McCain in Indiana with nine percent of districts reporting. Yeah, that's a really relevant update. These things are like basketball games, where you may as well just tune in for the last five minutes. Also, his co-hostess (working on the name folks) just referred to these early poll results as being an "inexact science." Skeptical inexact was exactly a word, I Googled it. The sixth result was "the inexact science of penis measurement."
7:30 p.m. Interesting that both NBC and its sister network, MSNBC (its brothers and cousins were unfortunately stuck at nearby airports with weather-related delays) are furthering this whole "virtual" election coverage M.O. with tickers that almost look three-dimensionally clickable. Is this supposed to subliminally compel me to visit their websites during the evening so I can boost their page views? Mmmm, clickable.
7:34 p.m. OK. Some mystical syndication programmer (damn you, TBS!) is challenging my political diligence by showing a Season 3 episode of Seinfeld, incidentally the lone season I don't own on DVD and have ostensibly committed to memory. Hey, hey, put that remote down. If I can't watch it, neither can you.
So, here we go folks. A day that will live in infamy for some segment of the American population, and either way will signal a decline in page views for national blogs that should make the Dow dissent seem like a manageable point-dip.
NCDSUV will be on the scene (i.e. on its channel-changing couch), reporting to you live with a collection of thoughts and observations from the coverage and culture around Election Night. Because who the fuck wants another brow-beating op-ed about their preferred candidate?
But in the meanwhile, here's a wish list of five things we can only hope will happen before the cameras to make the whole several-hour mess moderately less excruciating.
5. A la the Bud Bowl's supplemental Super Bowl programming, MTV will broadcast a special edition of Celebrity Deathmatch, in which Joe The Plumber and Tito The Builder battle on two pink elephants, wielding their trade's preeminent piece of equipment.
4. Wolf Blitzer, during a particularly pregnant pause of any electoral action, has a nervous breakdown and admits to being adopted, and having recently discovered that his birth name is "Itty Bitty Little Bear Cub."
3. Lots of preemptive declarations and manic bottom-screen tickers that remind us the networks' coverage is more of a competitive battleground for ratings than the candidates' struggle for higher office, nevermind a reasonable resource for accurate poll happenings. (Oh please, oh please, make this one happen, however unlikely and unfounded a notion it seems.)
So, big fuckin' deal, the Republican National Committee has spent $150,000 on Sarah Palin's wardrobe since she signed on to the ticket. You know how much money my mom spent on my Jerzees Super Sweats at Kid 'R Us when I was a kid? OK, probably about $15 cumulative dollars.
As anyone who reads NCDSUV knows, we've taken infinite potshots at the Alaskan, oil-drilling, campaign-killer (so many so where we fear we might be contributing to her demise, which would make this website a lot less entertaining in two weeks), but now it feels like the media's just scrounging for any excuse to be incredulous at John McCain and co. and reduce the VP nominee to a cariacture of conservative sex-potism. Which she is, of course, but I think at this juncture we can hand the baton of ballot-securing over to Barack Obama.
And as for campaign contributors crying foul over unwise expenditures of their donations, your money wasn't spent foolishly on a few tit-friendly powersuits, it was wasted on the old windbag standing next to their inhabitant in the first place.
Ya know, we've been trying to stay neutral amidst an avalanche of biased journalism and unabashedly announced opinions on the presidential election. I mean, c'mon, that isn't clearly evident in balanced, tactful articles like this and this? But fine, if Mr. Important Colin Powell is going to pull a Joe Lieberman-worthy fence-hopper on Meet The Press (see clip above) and Big Shot newspapers like the New York Daily News are going to get behind Obama, I guess it's time for NCDSUV to finally let the public know who they are in favor of.
So, without further ado, we are throwing our support (and a burlap hitchhiking sack on a stick) behind... Mr. Eric Elvis. And why not? He's got as thorough a sense of American history as John McCain, the disarming sexual magnetism of Barack Obama, has slightly less robotic motor functions than the former and has a song selection liberal enough to rival the latter's widespread demographic appeal.
Oh, you probably thought we'd get behind Obama. Well, we figure the way things are going, we no longer need to be the Switzerland of the blogosphere, but can complacently conduct ourselves like the Vermont in this endorsement electorate. But no worries, the second he gets into office, we'll resume our role as kneejerk liberal frontrunners.
Check in tomorrow morning for a list of the most surprising celebrity endorsements.
Unfortunately, I didn't not get to see Sarah Palin on Saturday Night Live when it aired: I was too busy actually living my life, losers. Ya know, going to the club ripped to the gills on coke, dancing with tons of crazy-hot women, folding my laundry while watching last week's True Blood and then eating a fat-free chocolate pop.
However, thanks to the magic of this device called Computer II ("now with Internet Activation"), I was able to "hone in on" NBC's "webbed-site" with the use of a Uniform Resource Locator and watch til my heart was content, which incidentally was while the video was still loading. But in the interests of journalistic duty, I then forced myself to sit there and watch the Palin sketches, employing one of those devices from A Clockwork Orange to keep my eyes pried open.
As was written about earlier on NCDS after the VP debate, Palin's media performances have fit in quite well with the reigning paradigm of awkward comedies like Curb Your Enthusiasm, The Office and the granddaddy of them all, the British series Peep Show, a program that is so wince-inducing that my body seizes up grand mal-style while watching. From her catastrophic interviews to her catastrophic photo ops, each new gaffe or desperate attempt to cover up her natural incurious intellectual torpor is met by a national grasping of our kishkas as we yell, "Oy vez mir! A shondah! A shondah!" This performance was no different.
Wow, talk about a whirlwind five days. You know it's a nutty week when David Duchovny and Tea Leoni's inevitable split finally makes the front pages, but not NCDSUV's Top 5 Things We Learned This Week.
But not to worry. All that means is we had plenty of revelations from the likes of other megastar couples, multi-billion-dollar fast-food chains and, of course, our neverendingly illuminating presidential candidates. So enjoy, and hopefully you've learned as much as we have this week. And ideally lessons of greater societal import.
According to virtually every pundit on the face of the earth—from John Dickerson to to the guy at the pizza place last week who told me, rather presciently, “One more debate and then-boom!-it’s ovah!”—last night was make it or break it for John McCain. Basically, Barack Obama had to stay awake for 90 minutes, not roll his eyes and avoid laughing audibly at the suggestion that Sarah Palin is qualified to be President. None of which is easy, and all of which he did with aplomb.
On the other hand (the one angrily clutching the Sharpee), McCain had a lot more riding on the debate, and a much trickier balancing act: He had to go after Obama, yet try to appear slightly less cranky and deranged than he has in the last two debates. He got it half right, so that means this was his most successful debate so far. Too bad he still managed to look mean and ancient in the process.
Ladies and gentleman, start your engines. Actually, don't do that, because you shouldn't be reading blogs while operating a vehicle. It's still questionable whether that should be done while sitting motionless on a couch.
Anyway, tonight's third and final presidential debate was full of more of the same. But just seated. And without hilarious audience interaction. John McCain still herked and jerked around like Yul Brenner in Westworld. Obama still smirked and chuckled arrogantly at some of McCain's more empassioned attacks. McCain still glossed over Obama's consistently nuanced dissections of his fiscal policy in favor of generalized accusations. And Obama occasionally peed his pants in fear when McCain looked like he was gonna snap and put him in a figure-four leg lock. And unlike his opponent, the Illinois Senator wasn't wearing Depends.
Anyhow, here are the top 25 thoughts and observations from a night that will be completely irrelevant when whoever wins is mired in all manner of domestic and international clusterfucks come 2009 (in no remotely sensible chronological or conceptual order).
25. Hey Obama, why don't we just manage chronic illnesses with the muthafuckin' chroooonic? Hm, yeah, that doesn't come across as well without being exaggerated with faux-street-slang intonation.
23. Hey McCain, fuck you and your $5,000 tax refund. The government is not your personal Publisher's Clearing House. (On that same note, how are we going to pay for the gas to go across America, and what good does it do me to have portable insurance when I've broken my leg and can't leave my neighborhood?)
22. McCain's really digging his own grave with this whole taxes thing. And Sarah Palin is standing behind the maverick to push him in. (OK, I just wanted to say your name so I could put a tag for you at the bottom of the article.)
21. Education is a civil rights issue but health insurance is a responsibility? My dear boy McCain, if only your points of view were as consistent as your bowel movements.
20. Kind of hard preaching about sex education to a guy whose whole image revolves around his missionary position. Or was that military? Sorry, I'm halfway through my Joe Six-Pack of Budweiser.
19. Every time John McCain blinks, you drink. Which means you are now all dead.
18. When McCain corrected Bob Sheefer about the climate control/climate control discrepancy, couldn't you just see the guy fuming to himself, "Oh yeah, well how are you gonna like it when I change the question to how many times you've renewed your Flomax subscription in the past year, you old, desert-loving fuck"? Eh, maybe you weren't watching it in HD.
17. Man, McCain sure looked like he wanted to abort that Roe V. Wade question.
16. Why do conservative judges need to be put in quotes? I thought they reside in special chambers with fun gavels to bang and silly black dresses.
15. Hearing these guys field the same questions three times over in different contexts is like watching two actors run through redundant sexual positions across multiple rooms of a house during a shitty fuck flick. Except in this case it seems masturbatory for the performers.
14. John McCain looks more defeated than when he was a POW. Or at least from what I gathered after watching The Faith Of My Fathers.
13. McCain actually had a good little jab when suggesting Obama should have ran four years ago if he wanted to run against President Bush. But why do that when he would have lost?
We're headed into the final stretch, America: Don't hit the wall! The longest, sprightliest, bumpiest, zaniest, stereotype-transcending, toe-tappin', forehead-slappin' presidential race in our country's history is finally winding down – and it looks like tonight's third and final debate at Hofstra University in Hemptstead, N.Y. may draw us into the final lap with a snooze-inducing cup of lemon-infused chamomile tea instead of the nut-packed PowerBar we're all craving.
What do we want? A rip-roaring catfight that reveals what the frig Barack Obama and John McCain would actually do as president about the fact that Wall Street has gone up in flames, the housing market has been shot through with a cannon and the job market has been chewed up and spit on the detritus-strewn ground like a worn-out piece of Juicy Fruit.
What a week, what a week. I'm personally all verklempt. Between the election race warming up, the economy cooling and down, and celebrities still indulgently frolicking around, it's been tough for NCDSUV to keep its panties unbunched. Or maybe that's just the fabric softener we've been using.
Well, in any case, from fetishizing the Obamas to taking a piss on your favorite movies and DirecTV scaring us with their tasteless Poltergeist ad, here's the top five things we learned this week.
By now we've all offered our two cents (more like 69 cents, eh? eh?) about Sarah Palin being hatefully fuckable. But what finally dawned on me during last night's debates was the powerful sexuality exuded by Michelle Obama.
It's like she has the rugged, intelligent, all-business maturity of my beloved Hannah Storm, with the visceral hormonal magnetism of Pam Grier. And, upon further observation, has an almost elegantly beautiful face.
So, while I've drawn fairly clear lines as to which presidential candidate I'll be voting for in a few weeks, I've made an even more important partisan decision this fall. If I'm going to have a strange, MILF-y compulsion toward a female that's crucial to the race, I may as well opt for the one who's value system and personal vernacular wouldn't have me bleaching my soul after a one-night tryst.
As NCDSUV readers know, we're quite fond of round deuxs, so our above-ground sequel sonars were on full alert for the thrilling oratory rematch between presidential candidates Barack "The Hope" "Obama and John "Adam Raised A" McCain.
And we were not disappointed. From the opening handshake, to the first offensive right hooks, to referee, er, moderator Tom Brokaw's bravely getting in the middle of these two fireplugs, Obama V. McCain: Round Deux was one for the ages. All ages in fact, thanks to the evolutionary-chain-length disparity between the two candidate's birth dates.
Here's a few observations about what happened between the rhetorical blows:
You know, we spend so much time on this site raking poor Sarah Palin over the coals that we occasionally forget to do our civic duty and encourage people to vote.
But why listen to NCDSUV when you can take inspiration from Diddy, Jay-Z, Mary J. Blige and some dude named Kevin Liles? (Okay, he's actually a big record exec, but seeing his name kind of lacks the same cachet, no?)
You can imagine my surprise when, right in my very own inbox this morning, there was an "Open Letter" from the four entertainers/moguls (I keep telling celebrities to stop opening my mail, but que sera), reminding me that, "If you have not registered to vote, you are disrespecting everyone that sacrificed their lives for you to have the right. You are also disrespecting your future. The time is NOW for us to use the voices with which God has blessed us."
Easy for you to say, Grammy-winning vocalist Mary J. Blige. The only voice God blessed me with was one akin to the sound of a '70s game show host.
Like last night's vice presidential debates themselves, it seems only fitting that NCDSUV provides you, our opinion-starved readers, with two points of view (that's code for, "I just felt like giving my two cents since I'm the editor of the site and I can.").
For the most part, things played out as I expected, to the point of shockingly perpetuating media stereotypes about each candidate. But seeing them so acutely polarized while standing several feet apart made both their strategized personas and particular appeal abundantly clear.
Palin does the George Bushian thing of avoiding actual debate and staring straight into the camera, hypnotically and telepathically beaming her message to a core set of converts and near-congregants, while the rest of America wishes she'd answer a straight question and arrogantly assumes Midwestern soccer moms will ultimately have adequate horseshit radars.
Biden, meanwhile, provides unexpected warmth and humanity to counter Palin's role as a surrogate heartbeat for McCain's icy veins and ailing ticker. And sublime cockiness that practically peels of the enamel on his preternaturally pearly whites.
But there were more tangential observations to be had as well, whether it pertained to Palin's plump behind or the serindipitous mysteries that connect our current president to Chuck Norris. Here's a few:
If I have to hear one more “Drill, baby, drill,” double, ahem, single entendre, I think my dick might go limp eternally out of exasperation. But while watching the debates last night, I think I finally understood what so many people find attractive about Palin. At first, I found the rally to bathe in her womblight rather anti-feminist, as if the only thing Palin had to offer America was her vagina. Don’t forget though, she’s also anti-choice, and let me tell you, my friends, nothing gets me harder than the possibility of having sex with a rigid, moralizing lunatic.
But watching her last night, I deeply understood the scads of sad, lonely sacks that professed their libidinous desire to thrust away incompetently at her for a few seconds, only to spurt out an orgasm as bleak as The Killing Fields.
The desire to fuck Sarah Palin doesn’t stem from some misogynist impulse or Oedipal wish, but rather from our death drives. As an empty shell, Palin doesn’t represent a woman, but rather the apotheosis of emptiness; she is annihilation pure and simple. To fuck her is to fuck death, to find sweet release not in le petite mort, but in le grand mort.
You may have heard that tonight’s regularly scheduled programming will be suspended for the Vice Presidential debate. With all the preemptive spin coming from all sides, even professional psychics, it’s hard to know what to expect, with predictions ranging from a NASCAR-style pile-up of mutual gaffes to a repeat of Sarah Palin’s despicable attack dog performance at the RNC.
My prediction is this: It will probably seem fitting that the debate is on Thursday night, at the same hour that The Office usually airs. Much has been made over the rise of “cringe comedy” over the past few years. Traditional, so-called “multi-camera” shows are out of fashion, with network execs and critics (if not always audiences) preferring “single-cam” alternatives like 30 Rock, Arrested Development and Curb Your Enthusiasm. Warm and fuzzy plots about adorable families are passé, in favor of stories where one or more characters are constantly embarrassing themselves, to the delight and amusement of the viewer.
Pardon me for having been in a vacuum the last few days (I couldn't figure out how to work the damn thing and my new Oriental rug really needed a cleaning, so cut me some slack), but am I the only who just recently had their attention drawn to this???
Man, if you're a Vice Presidential candidate and incite a veteran CNN anchor like Jack Cafferty to squander all objectivity to do his part in saving America from what he feels is a calamitous choice at the polls, you've gotta feel less than awesome about yourself. Unless you're Sarah Palin and know you can just take the motherfucker down with a semi-automatic.
Well, I say, you go Cafferty. The partisan battles lines have long since been drawn in oversaturated televised media, but aside from Bill Mahr, few liberal anchors have taken a stand for what they actually believe, when such objectivity seems less principled these days than naive and counterproductive.
But mostly, this clip captured Palin in a moment of uncensored cluelessness that felt too eerily similar to a certain someone who's buffoonery has made us a global joke and cost millions of lives over the last eight years. And of course I'm talking about Uwe Boll.
Granted, Lynne Spears is the most cravenly attention-seeking celebrity parent this side of Michael Lohan, as evidenced by her lunatic tell-all, which more or less amounted to reading your daughter's diary aloud to the world.
That said, she's shockingly dead-on in her attack on the hypocritical response to Bristol Palin's pubescent pregnancy saga, at least as it relates to how the media assaulted Lynne and her daughter, Jamie Lynn. You can read the chat here at Newsweek (I particularly enjoyed their choice of "Grandmother Speaks Out" for an annotated second-page headline).
In fairness to the 'bloids, Jamie Lynn got eviscerated because it was a further stripping (pun heartily intended) of the Spears clan's own internal hypocrisy, after they allowed elder child Britney to be propped up for years like the Virgin Mary in head-to-toe latex.
But how on earth has Sarah Palin so quickly warped and inverted this country's value judgments, regardless of what politically correct party lines they straddle? She and her handlers may be this nation's greatest magicians since this guy.
Sarah Palin, there's so much you and your Republican Lady-peers have taught us. Before you came around we thought chicks in glasses were really smart, polar bears were worth saving and teenage pregnancy was a bad thing. We didn't know about the mysteries of Republican Lady-hair, the difference between a pit bull and a hockey mom, or that Wasilla was a place. But the most important realization was that we'd really really like to hate-fuck a Republican, preferably a really conservative one, maybe while wearing that sex harness from Se7en. Sure, Sarah's busy with her campaign (and the possible subpoenas), but she's opened up a whole world of perverse possibility, one not that different from the territory explored in last week's piece about strangely sexy animated sweethearts. We call that world Planet RILF (Republicans I'd Like to Fuck) and here are our top eight picks.
8. Barbara Bush
Axis Of Power: Former First Lady to the first President Bush; once provided nutrition, via cord-and-sack apparatus, to a then-gestating President George W. Bush. Sex Appeal: Barbara Bush is what we in the sexist media call a "handsome woman," and while it's true that she is by no means conventionally hot, she's got that Palin fight in her. Don't let the crazy clown hair and diaper-concealing outfits fool you, Barbara has been smiling sweetly while stabbing her enemies in the back (and then also in the face) since the early '80s. Think Sarah's feisty? Barbara called her husband's vice-presidential rival Geraldine Ferraro a bitch in the middle of their 1984 campaign, which would place her higher on our list if she weren't pro choice. RILF Hairdo Of Choice: Blindingly white Republi-fro Favorite Position:Reverse Cowgirl
7. Carly Fiorina
Axis Of Power: As CEO of Hewlett Packard, succeeded in halving the companies value in under three years(!); John McCain's current chief economic advisor. Sex Appeal: As McCain's media surrogate, she made the brave and entirely apolitical decision to defend Hillary Clinton from the Obama campaign's relentless sexist attacks. Read: bi (partisan) girls are hot. Also, she's really (really) rich. RILF Hairdo Of Choice: Lesbian tennis coach meets Nascar dad. We call it the power mullet. Favorite Position:Viennese Oyster
6. Elisabeth Hasselbeck
Axis Of Power: Came in fourth place on Survivor: The Australian Outback; Co-hosts The View, where she's often referred to as the "Pretty" "Conservative" or "Dumb" one. Voted "worst interviewer on television" by 1.5 million AOL members. Sex Appeal: If you're trying to seem smart and serious, even when you're doing something completely inane and beneath you, it helps a lot to sit next to an ignorant moron. This phenomenon is called the "Hasselbeck effect," and it was discovered by Barabara Walters in 2003. I've never been to a Dairy Queen, but if I did, I'd like to imagine that Hasselbeck would be working there. She'd dip my cone, I'd impress her with some kind of shiny moving object, offer her manager some trinkets and/or beads in exchange for her, and off we'd go. RILF Hairdo Of Choice: Soft, like a pony's Favorite Position:Froggy Style
5. Condoleezza Rice
Axis Of Power: As National Security Advisor, didn't want Saddam Hussein's "Smoking gun to be a mushroom-cloud"; once accidentally referred to President George W. Bush as "my Husband..." Sex Appeal: Some might find it odd, or even suspicions, that Condoleezza seems to have no personal life at all. I think that makes her hot like a nun. Plus, once she's loyal to you, she'll lie to Congress, misrepresent facts in interviews and ignore subpoenas... and she doesn't care if you're already married. RILF Hairdo Of Choice: Oddly James Brown-ish Favorite Position:Spoons
Looks like someone else has a crush on Sarah Palin. The Hannity & Colmes show aired their interview with the Republican vice presidential candidate last night, and Sean Hannity has clearly fallen under the spell of her Alaskan charms. The interview felt more like a first date than an in-depth question-and-answer session, but I guess that’s what FOX News means by fair and balanced.
Alan Colmes, apparently relegated back to his crypt, had no part in the interview, so it was up to Hannity to smile, joke and flirt with the governess. He teed her up with questions about how dangerous Barack Obama is, made hockey mom “jokes,” told her he wanted to move to Alaska and tried really hard not to glance down at those luscious legs flowing out of her sexy skirt.
The one-time local newswoman weathered the barrage of less-than-hard-hitting questions and presented her case, and introduced some new Palin-isms. Here are the highlights:
Sure, Cindy McCain, you're a relatively young woman standing next to your paleolithic presidential-hopeful husband John. And yes, you're kind of hot in a middle-aged, buttoned-up power suit, conservatively ideological sort of way (whether you make the cut in our list of Republicans I'd Like To Fuck remains to be seen).
But, as NCDSUV will attest with every last hormonally starved breath, you are no Sarah Palin. And you know it too. So stop overcompensating by suddenly being a more visible (and audible) presence in this campaign, damnit.
At least if Plain (oh sweet, sweet Palin) were to make threats about the media picking her bones clean, she'd back it up threatening them with a semi-automatic. And if she were going to do it while wearing pearl necklaces, we're almost positive they'd be the kind you're not supposed to walk out of the house adorned with.
Of course, this particular rant only reinforces the weird mind-fuckery that Palin has unleashed. It's allowed me to foster a lesser of evils within the collectively questionable conservative ticket, rather than scrutinize them wholesale against the wholly preferable Obama campaign. But I know who I'm voting for, and I'm at least enjoying the unexpected level of spectacle suddenly springing from the right. It's like having to see a chick flick with your girlfriend but at least getting a nudity scene.
So stop blocking my view of Sarah, you vulturous first-lady-in-waiting. And while you're at it, stop putting me in the position of Googling The View so frequently on my Web browser. I can only handle so much Joy Behar in a given week.
And yes, you can look anticipate NCDSUV reaction to Palin's impending interview with Hannity & Colmes tomorrow.
Yes, it is true. Lorne Michaels has confirmed that Tina Fey is in talks with SNL to portray NSCDUV's favorite RILF, Sarah Palin. (That's Republican I'd Like To Fuck for the uninitiated. Stay tuned for an upcoming list of our favorite all-time RILFs).
It's hard to say what would be an equivalent in the pantheon of nerdy wet-dream fantasies. Perhaps if Princess Leia was played by Jackie O. in a XXX porn film?
Well, either way, two things are clear: NCDSUV scribe Kevin Johnston's head is probably exploding; and sales of Kleenex are bound to skyrocket that night to supply many a single, middle-aged man's basement apartment in their parents house. Which is good, since they'll need them for their more conventional purpose if she and her running mate actually win the election.
As I mentioned last week, I am in love with Sarah Palin. I can’t get her off my mind, and it’s getting worse. As a lifelong liberal, it has been a trying time. I should be reveling in the fact that my party has put up one of its most charismatic presidential candidates in decades, but I am distracted. Distracted by the power of Palin.
I admit, at first I was drawn in by her raw sexuality (she was 1994’s Miss Wasilla after all), but now I have seen the true extent of her power. Behind the smile, those sexy suits and those come-hither-glasses lurks a woman who can do anything. Let’s take a look at some of the amazing things she has done since entering the national spotlight:
I was more than ready to get my Tim Robbins on as I sat down for the Republican National Convention on Wednesday night. Rudy Giuliani was delivering his lispy Catskills routine (complete with contractually obligated 9/11 references), the fashion-forgotten Republicans were shouting out their tacky chants and it was just about time for me to pounce on this vice presidential candidate I hadn’t even heard of just a week ago.
Wearing my Obama ’08 T-shirt and drinking tea so my voice was perfectly tuned for lobbing “boo” and “are you kidding me?” at the TV screen, I was totally prepared. As Sarah Palin took the stage, the cascade of cheers from Denver nearly drowned out my mocking commentary… so I turned the volume down. I was winning already. Finally, the Alaskan Governor began her parade of lies and insults. But as she began to mock Barack Obama with a not-so-subtle jab at his public service record, something inside of me changed. My rage subsided and I felt a little flutter in my heart. Was her message starting to resonate with me? Nope, her looks were.
Ok, I lied. I don't really have an update. It was mostly a ploy to get you to keep reading. But I do have a couple of thoughts. Firstly, it seems a bit convenient that when the Democrats finally have a viable black candidate, and he's opposing a fiercely paleolithic opponent, the Republicans somehow manage to outhip us with all this unwed teenage mom stuff. The stage during the RNC more closely resembled a reunion of the cast from Fast Times At Ridgemont High than a conservative pulpit. And yes, I guess that makes John McCain Mr. Hand. Too bad the event didn't take place in Honolulu so the whole crowd could have greeted him with Aloha.
Also, where does Levi's namesake ring-finger tattoo of his beloved Bristol fall in the pantheon of bad digit-adorning ink? It certainly doesn't approach Ozzy's self-involved knuckle-scribbling, no doubt the result of snorting too many ants one mundanely psychotic evening. But, it's arguably less regrettable than the rest of these losers' personal acessorizing.
Oh, and just to clear up the mass public confusion: No, Levi and NCDSUV writer Kevin Johnston are not related. Although we could use the publicity, so Kevin, just lie and say you are and head down to Minneapolis.
You know the really special thing about Labor Day for Bristol Palin, daughter of Republican vice presidential nominee Sarah Palin? She gets two of them this year. As you've probably heard, the 17-year-old unwed is five months preggers, which means she was knockin' boots sometime last spring. Here's what we know: Teenage pregnancy happens. Often. And of course Bristol kept the baby because Grandma Palin thinks abortion equals oh, I don't know, complete humiliation for the rest of a woman's life.
Already behind in the polls and terrified the disclosure will alienate voters in November, the Republican party now has a team on the ground in Alaska trying to figure out how McCain decided on Palin as a running mate (hint: paper rock scissors).
But if anyone should be scared shitless right now, it's Bristol's boyfriend, Levi. His super sperm is responsible for this mess, and he's got to do all he can to save face, should that fateful tryst jeopardize the Republican win later this year. And the best way to please those eccentric- name-loving Palins is to come up with a good one for their newest member. And while they don't necessarily flow mellifluously into her surname, here are some of our suggestions (and feel free to join in with your own below). Good luck, kids:
