Book: Star

So, I am ashamed that after not doing a book review in forEVER, THIS is the book I choose to do. Forgive me. In my defence, there are a couple of books I have been trying to read that are just really not working out (you know, the ones that everyone including the Pulitzer/Oprah says are supposed to be good, but really, really are not...e.g. Angela's Ashes or The Secret Life of Bees), so it may be a while until I do another book review...but we shall see.

Don't forget, I rent out my books. The rate fluctuates so make sure you catch me on a good day.

Paha. #capitalism

So, Star is a thinly veiled memoir by Pamela Anderson (she of the gigantic bazumbas) and some other guy who decided to co-write with her (I highly doubt she wrote a word of this thing). It is basically a testimony of how far tits can get you in America, the land of the free and the home of the brave. Because it's all about what commodity you have that you can use to get ahead (#freetrade). I.e., this book is not Kenyan. Ha. And yes, the picture above is the (inside) cover.

She gets spotted shaking it on a camera at a football game and the rest is history, basically. Like folks, her boobs propelled her to stardom, and not because they were full of hot air, pahaaaaaaa. It is supposedly not her story, but you can tell it so is (I Wikid it. Thus is must be true). It's full of the usual gratuitous sex and...um...

The one thing that I do admire about Pamela Anderson (words I thought I'd never say) is that when she wants to do something (live, f*, get a boob job, drink, have fun, write a badly-crafted book) she really does just go out and do it. That is all I got from this book. I forced myself through it because I had to. Like KCSE. (I have this thing where I find it really hard to not read a book to the end if I've already started. Which is why I am STILL reading The Secret Life of Bees. From like last year. And the way I was excited to get it for like 30 bob). It gets like a 1. Out of...um...lol, 5. Ok, maybe a half.

tSN

p.s. FINALLY about to watch MIB3! The WEEK of Batman! Ha, which I booked tickets for like 2 weeks ago...

Big Brother Stargame

I think the time has come that I can safely confess...

I tried out for Big Brother. (if you couldn't see that coming from the title, then you know...you need help...lol nah just taking the mickey) You see, I figured, my oodles of charm, sparkling personality, electrifying wit would...you know...electrify the judges into letting me into the house. Not to mention my most amazing and terrifyingly auspicious splitting-her-seams-with-character partner @colourme_bad. We had a foolproof plan, and the plan was US.

So we walk into the audition place thingummy. @colourme_bad was late. Which used to be a normal occurence, but this time really wasn't her fault. I just felt the need to mention it. @colourme_bad wanted shots, because she was nervous. As was I, but me drunk and weepy is not a sight that anyone wants to see (unless they're masochistic). So with the assistance of @colorme_perfect, shots were had at the ridiculously expensive KICC bar (who cares about Mututho hour? Not them), and back we were in line. Then @colourme_bad wanted makeup.

Now, I don't do make up. I have a complex for fakeness. I know that sounds bad, but it really isn't. I just prefer to give my first impressions as actual me, the me I'll be able to keep up, not the I-wake-up-before-he-wakes-up-to put-on-foundation me. Which isn't really me. It's the same reason I don't do push up bras, plastic surgery, or KY Jelly (hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha *breathes* *subject to change*) (I feel flak coming my way in waves for this paragraph).

@colorme_perfect helped @colourme_bad with her makeup because she's kinda sorta a pro at such things (hers doesn't look fake. It looks like it's complimenting instead of straight out switching faces). When we walked into the audition room, some guy told @colorme_perfect that she should audition with him (to be fair, she looked fantastic. I would have asked her too, paha). So they went in, then we went in. (also, I figured The Girls would want to have a say too, so the neckline of my dress was at my navel, lol). The girls before us had been applying makeup and putting on their heels before they went in. It was making me feel like I hadn't made an effort...

So we go in and they ask us to do strange things with a toy saw (which isn't as kinky as it sounds) then we are through to the next round, which was a live audition (I really hope they never show those anywhere, because...let's just say I will pull a Jacob Zuma on them...deny deny deny cold shower deny deny deny), and the guy on the cameras was A GUY I USED TO WORK WITH, so let's just say he now knows a lot more about me than he ever really wanted to know...ahem.

So we didn't make it (obviously). We spent the whole of March anxiously poised and waiting for the call from SA to tell us to fly on down (in fact at one point, an unknown number called me and the prefix was the SA one, and I nearly flipped...turns out it was a guy I used to know in SA who I NEVER talk to anymore but still has my number and butt-dialled me...the three sisters of fate must have had SUCH a laugh when they were making his butt do that). April came and went, we saw Prezzo and Malonza and Alex in, and we figured, ok, we're REALLY not being called lol. So we spent the rest of the time hating on the people in the house, starting rumours that Prezzo must've paid someone (lol jk), who are those guys anyway, they don't have nearly as much personality, etc. You know. THe things sore losers generally do.

Then I met Malonza last week and I felt bad. He's not actually an awful chap. He's, like, friendly, and like, funny, and like, nice. And...ahem...he's filled out nicely. Ahem. So I guess I shouldn't have hated. And maybe voted, perhaps.

Ah, my mother would've never let me go anyway. When I told her I tried out, she got a look on her face and said "The one with lesbians and drinking and constant sex?" So yeah...maybe not.

tSN

p.s. BATMAN BATMAN BATMAN!! T-12...

Hateration

Thought I'd kick off Tuesday with a little negativity. Because I mean,come on. Friday is so far away. And we all have our flaws. This is going to be hard though,because I'm watching Kata Rumba (S/O to my homeguuuurl @awuormamou who LOVES this stuff) and some of there outfits make it so hard to be negative while watching,LOL.

My mom says I have a lot of hatred in me. It's very true. If you know anything about me,you know I carry grudges for at least 10 years. I don't do mild,2 week resentment. I carry that ish like...right. Like baggage. Did you ever borrow money from me and not pay me back? I remember. Do you still have an article of my clothing that I gave you 5 years ago? Even after you give it back,I will still side-eye you for a decade. Yeah,petty,but I don't care,you disrespectful ingrate. I'm allowed to be petty. It's MY SHIT. Were you an idiot ex? Yup. You too. And because I'm passive aggressive,I never actually confront people. I just send them TSUNAMIS of bad karma. Believe me when I say,it catches up with them,sooner or later. Ask any conductor whose balls have suddenly shrunk.

Now,it's unhealthy to hold it in,right? Especially because a lot of the time I have to mask my hatred because oh,we're related or oh,you go to my church. And I really don't want to be fake,you know? Giving hugs to people I can't stand needs to end. Unless. You know. It's a necessary evil. I just really want to be honest with people I truly,deeply abhor. So this year,I'ma do that. Being real is actually harder than it looks,but I feel I owe it to myself. I'm an artist,for Pete's sake. (I really don't know what that has to do with anything,but it just felt so...right. Lol jk)

So I feel the first step is to let it out, so I can,kinda,like,script my confrontation,no? I'm going to do it anyway though,that's purely rhetorical,ha. So half of this week's bad karma goes to the chick who washes my hair at the salon I go to. It's bad enough that I CAN'T STAND salons,but to make the experience exponentially more emotionally draining,I get a chick who cannot seem to a,cut her nails,or b,desist from treating my scalp like a freaking archeologigcal find. Yo. I hereby refuse to have my hair washed by her again. I'll do it my damn self in the painless confines of my home.

The other goes to this ratchet who owes me money - not even a lot of money - and hasn't paid me back in like a year. Not only that,she didn't explain,or reply my texts,or...anything,yo. Short of suing her arse,I feel like my options are pretty limited. So she whines that she doesn't have money,and then I SEE HER AT JAVA. You know what's more annoying than seeing someone who owes you money eating at an expensive restaurant? NOTHING,YO. NOTHING. Lol. Waiting for this heifer to try and hug me. WAITING. I'ma pop a ratchet. LOL.

That felt good. :D
#hatetherapy

tSN

Film: The Amazing Spiderman

That's...huge. Lol.

Spidey premiered yesterday in Kenyan theatres - ok, IMAX. I was totes gonna wait to watch it at Capital Centre for 200 next week,but Imax had an offer for 400 sock a pop at noon. I was ON IT.

General plot,parents disappear,Spidey lives witn his aunt and uncle,bitten by radioactive spider,superhero TADAAAA,etc.

I came fully expecting to hate the movie. Mostly because I didn't like who they cast as Spidey. I mean,can you BE anymore pink-lipped. Sigh. Anyhue,I was pleasantly surprised. Andrew Garfield portrays a shy,geeky teenage Spidey in a way reminiscent of one of my other favourite hesitant scientist superheroes, Mark Ruffalo in Avengers as the Hulk. He was actually really on it. You know. Like me. And the movie. Plus,he was FUNNY. Spidey is SUPPOSED TO be funny. In the comics,anyway. I have loved Emma Stone since Easy A and she's always a great love interest. Their romance,for me,was just TOO CUTE. Like a fat baby. Like how teenage romance should be. I feel they showed a multi-faceted and still heroic Spidey. The villain,I could dig him,although honestly,had I paid more attention to Spidey than the Bat in my childhood years,a lot of the villain cast would've made more sense. This movie for me was a really good mix of action and emotion. Also,the guy who directed it is called Mark Webb. Ha! Ha!

I couldn't help but compare it to Toby's version. James Franco was without a doubt villain eye candy,but he was like the only guy I liked. Kirsten Dunst...meh. And upside down kisses are REALLY not that simple.

3 and a half outta 5.

tSN

p.s. Guess who STILL hasn't watched Men In Black 3.