The Breakup: Goodbye, RHOA

Sometimes, a TV show is like a drug, and you don't realize how bad you look when you are wiping off your little white friend from the side of your whatever until you watch Scarface and realize that that is probably you.

You see this is the thing - I LOVE reality TV. I always have, and I have always wanted there to be more. I want to see how everyone is living! What they're buying! I want to intrude on my favourite superstars' lives! Yes, I would never do the BBA thing with the shower hour (I did audition though. I think they could sense that off of me. And it didn't help that when I told my mother about it, she was like, oh, the show with the lesbians? So...no. That would never have worked, amirite?)

But I have reached the End of the Road with RHOA. I just watched Season 7 Episode 10 and I am officially unable to can.

I have been trying to quit the drug for a good long time now. When Nene had that sex party and deliberately created drama and there was a demon, as Portia said, in the room, and the fight was ridiculous, and then all that drama happened?
Look, I used to like drama. But that one was too much. But I couldn't resist the pull! So a couple of months later I broke my fast and got back into the season 6 again, watched Portia act a damn fool, and then launched into Season 7.

And now here we are. I can't.
So in Episode 10 Nene gets into it with Claudia at some point and tells her that her clitoris has left her body.

Guys, I don't know if this bothered me so much because I *have* a clitoris - I'm not sure. But I was just like...what??
Huh?
What now?
Naaaawl.

I mean...what???
I started to question all of my life's decisions. What is my life? What are my choices? Why are we here?
Nene is clearly a crazy person (as is Kenya, as The Apprentice showed later as well). And even though she was clearly on the wrong, she STILL felt the need to call out Claudia's lady parts - and try to SLUT SHAME her? Forget the ridiculousness of the fact that Nene was once a stripper - it is entirely possible that she could have been a stripper who didn't sleep with clients - but to get to the point where you are so far gone in your arrogance that you feel the need to call on vajayjays? For NO REASON?

Chiiiile.
Nene is crazy.
Kenya is crazy.
Portia is deluded af.
Kandi is really the only one I am willing to fux wit, but she doesn't have her own show, so. It's just like how they shouldn't have put all of the other Braxtons in Braxton Family Values (couldn't get past Season 1, and even that, with the lovely vampire Toni, was a struggle. How people watch Tamar and Vince is beyond my comprehension).
Phaedra, with all her casual shade throwing ways that used to be oh-so-amusing, seems to just be becoming malicious and vindictive, and I'm not here for it.
Claudia seems cool, but I am sure that is going to change any minute now, because all these woman are not who they really are. They change every single episode! Like 2 episodes ago, Kenya and Nene were hugging and now she is side-eyeing her the end. Unless we have them on camera 24/7, you can never really know what these women are choosing to portray, or why, because it isn't a novel, so, what's the point? Because that bipolar-like character change just has my high blood pressure like whattttt is going on here (and the scriptwriter in me is like that trajectory of character development is just too implausible...)?? And why? And these can't be real people?? And why am I watching these CRAZY PEOPLE?? And...whattt?
These are a bunch of influential black women who can do more than just entertain with ratchetry (#Kandi). But what they choose to do instead is tear each other down and talk about clitorises leaving the building. Even me I am leaving. The more I take in, the crazier I have potential to become. I barely even remember why I started watching it in the first place.
I mean...
What?
It's not me. It's DEFINITELY you.

tSN

On my mind in the dark.

During the day, it's fine. I can forget. I can push it to the back of my head, willingly or unwillingly. But at night...there's something so beautiful about the night. It's dark and melancholy and begs you to ask what you did with its sister. I sometimes have a good answer. I can go to sleep happy. I can be ok.

But when I don't...when it's been one of those days when all you've done is avoid what you know you should have done...then the darkness turns. It shifts form and becomes something that swallows you whole.

Maybe all this unwillingness to do stuff that I don't want to do is a sign of something bigger than just my inner darkness and failed (failing?) projects. Do crazy people know they're crazy? Do depressed people know they're depressed?

For some reason I think it should be accompanied by tears and deep introspection - neither of which I bother with (avidly). When I voice it I feel like I sound ridiculous or selfish - what do you mean, you don't feel like coming to/taking me to/dancing with? When I tell him, he shows concern and then nods off to sleep...listening to someone talking about the same thing again and again can't be fun when you're sleepy. And then because he is snoring beside me and I feel overwhelmed by the ocean of thoughts within me, I sleep. Not because I am resolved and a new creature, but because I am too tired to keep fighting today.


tSN

Tea Break

She said:
Sometimes I give myself orgasms as presents. And afterwards, I give myself another present for having such excellent gift giving skills. Then, while my legs are shaking as I pull down my skirt in the stall of the bathroom at work, I say a little prayer of gratitude to my absolutely wonderful clitoris and the god who gave her to me. He has excellent gift giving skills too.



Skirts are best. For me, anyway. Skirts with no panties. Skirts with no panties and stockings that rub slowly against me as my boss is telling me something infinitely more boring than what I'm thinking about.



The great thing about orgasms, though, is their minimum fuss for maximum gain. You don't need a man. You don't need money. You don't need small talk, or instructions, sloppy drunk kisses or motivational books...you just need persistence. If you do have a man then even better (but don't they always get it just a little wrong?). He can contribute. Or he can watch. But a woman...a woman is best. For me, anyway.



I am walking out of the stall and another lady comes in. She is not in a skirt. She looks flushed. In a hurry, almost. Her hands are hovering around suggestive regions and she stops short when she sees me. Her mouth, previously slightly open in an urgent pant, snaps shut. Her eyes widen. What does she think I've caught her in? I smile a lazy smile, not particularly caring, because after, I don't particularly care about anything until the world butts in again. I close the door behind me, but not before I hear a zip being tugged down. And nothing after that.

Here's what I don't like about porn.

I got my first porno DVD way after high school. Which isn't completely surprising, because I am female. I think (ok I know there are a few girls who start earlier. In a random jav that decided it was after hours enough to give the customers a little more than what they paid for. In the shady pubs in town or little makeshift illicit kibandas, perhaps, if they slipped in without notice. Though I doubt it. Cameo Cinema. Late night Bold and the Beautiful which whetted their appetite for more nakedness and more action. My story isn't like that. The Bold's soundtrack is still one of my favourite of all time though).

The cover art of the DVD had Britney Spears on it, when she was still in her heyday. I remember thinking that it was a bit archaic - I mean, who even remembers when Britney was still in her heyday? But I am sure porno cover artisans don't really care who is on the cover, do they? In any case, it is a stroke of genius - no mother will pick up a Britney DVD belonging to her child (not knowing that yes, it is unusual, because...who even remembers when Britney was still in her heyday?). Fathers, obviously not - but more often than not they know the game, if it is their son. If it is a girl, no one thinks she is watching porn, and there is a female with pigtails on the cover, so it must be one of those new artist she likes, right?

The DVD had 6 movies in it. I never watched them all the way in. There was the sadomasochist one (as there always is) with nuns whipping their nuns/ladies-in-waiting and/or making them give them head, and then out of nowhere men would appear, to stand guard, I suppose - like I said, never watched the whole thing, but that one in particular, because I find church porn disturbing. I barely got through that episode of Californication that starts in the church, and the nun...(what happened to that show? I actually quite liked it).

There was a Thai one - 2 maybe, even - where the people on the screen were clearly getting it on, but the background sounded like a movie about a couple of teenagers having fun at the beach. Very clever. Then there was my favourite one, about girls. I don't know what was going on there, but they got straight to it - started out on the lawn, busted by another girl, taken to another house with a married woman and her two sex slaves - it all got a bit convoluted. It was called something corny, as they always are, like Girls Night In or something.

I still have that DVD. Once in a while, I pop it out for old times sake. Recently I discovered PornHub (I only just watched Kim K's sex tape. I know. I know.) which is a veritable plethora of all things (kuku) porno. I mean...so many categories! So many choices! It can get a bit overwhelming, like when you go to Cold Stone Creamery for the first time and your senses are basically assaulted, then they start singing, which doesn't help to focus your thoughts.

A couple of years ago, I was introduced to Lingerie - the soft core porn series, which I prefer to PornHub. (funny story - my ex and his present were at the DVD store and the guy looks at them, decide they need a little spice in their lives and hands them Season 1, saying, hii, hii mtapenda. After the 4th sex scene in 10 minutes, they were like...um. LOL.) But it is still super cheesy.

And that's my problem with porn.
I mean, other than the fact that it goes on for waaaaay too long - if you think about it, it's not going to take you the entire duration of a 26 minute porno to come. Is it? Or are you watching it for its sterling production value and excellent directing? - why oh why are the scripts so cheesy? Many say this is an invalid complaint, because porn doesn't exist for the script. But then why are the talking parts/introductions/back story so long? Si you just get to it already? And if you're not going to get to it, then why not make the part we have to listen to good? Look, I like a little context. But not shitty context. Which is why soft porn exists. But even soft core (a la Lingerie) scripting suuuuuucks baaaaaaaalls. It's like...guys. No. Stop. Stop talking. Please.

And the moans are really fake.
I'm sorry! Is it because I am a scriptwriter that I expect effort and better directing? But surely even you if you are with a person and they are moaning from when you hold hands. Ai.

I don't mind porn. I just like a specific type. Like in Blue is the warmest colour. Where the moaning and speech is natural. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it isn't a porno, but there was a lot of sex. But it was nice sex. Like a Sidney Sheldon. Or an Amanda Quick. Classy, y'know? (ha!) Or Sliver. Or that old Mel Gibson movie. Or...or maybe I just natural looking sex that isn't a sex tape and isn't trying to hide all the good bits. At this rate I may have to move to France.

There's the argument again that I am not the target audience for porn. I laugh in the face of such accusations. As if women don't consume sexual content. As if we don't have needs. Come on, Porn Producing People. Do better.

tSN

Series: Empire (Season 1 Episode 6)

I was feeling a little hot after this episode aired! What! I need chips (as a cure for everything in life, of course. Fuck a diet, a dollar and a dream - Derek Luke is on Empire! *squeals*)

So I know I'm late (HA!) but g2g was having issues and I only just saw the episode literally 10 minutes ago. I think this is my favourite episode, after the first one, for so. Many. Reasons.

1. The music is improving! Yaaaaas, Timbaland! The music in the last 4 episodes hasn't been anything to write home about. I mean, What is Love, that heartwrenching piece from the bald girl in Ep 1 just topped everything; Jamal and Hakeem make an absolutely killer team, and it was beginning to look like they couldn't do anything good without each other, and Tiana is basically eye candy. Drip Drop was ok, you know? Body like a weapon bang bang bang etc was catchy. It definitely was NOT What is Love. Jamal...nothing he has done has moved me to look past his whining. BUT! Hakeem, snivelly spoilt brat that he is, has produced a gem in this episode (his diss track to Tiana), Jamal's love song I wanna love you was just inspired - by maybe a little Neyo when Neyo was really good? A little John Legend? MM. SO TASTY. And I like the rock thing with Elle Dallas (Courtney Love). I'm waiting to see where this is going. It's a yes from me.

2. I have understood that I need to stop judging Empire. Yes, it is an over the top series. But it is MEANT to be over the top. That's how they've played it, and unlike Power, they are doing it well. The casting, guys - everyone really fits their roles (except the extras - that football player was some bullshit) and Taraji shines in a sea of diamonds. Like a diamond. Napenda Taraji. (see what I did there?) Napenda Taraji especially akivaa hizo maNINI. (I gotta say, I don't know why Miss T keeps Portia around. That obvious plothole is going over my head)

3. New faces. I AM HERE FOR IT. I am here for Miss Colourless Raven Symone (my comp doesn't have the apostrophe. Or rather, I don't care enough to look for it) playing desperate baby mama. I am HERE for DEREK LUKE who can SECURE ME ANYTIME HE WANTS. LAWDY. Someone was made in THE PERFECT image of the Lord. Last time I saw that tasty man was in The Americans and I was just as distracted as I am now. I. AM. HERE. FOR. HIM.

Excuse me while I go wipe - uh, download another episode.
SLURP.

tSN

Film: The Rewrite

Hugh Grant is in a movie and I watched it and I liked it.

:)

That is basically the summary of this review but just in case you are not grasping the true significance of the statement - Hugh Grant is in a movie. :)

I think I have watched pretty much everything Mr Grant has ever done (I'm lying - just the huge commercial successes, drolling as I did so). I have tracked his illustrious career from the age of five, when I watched The Lady and the Highwayman - also the name of one of my favourite poems ever - and apparently in no way related - right down to this movie, and my conclusion is that he is getting old, but beautifully. (Hugh Grant is in a movie!) I feel like it has been a while since I've seen him on the silver screen.

This movie is about a scriptwriter who wrote a fantastic movie that won lots of awards and then his creative well ran dry. He s almost washed up, pitching really stupid ideas to studio heads who worshiped him before but won't touch him with a ten foot pole now. And so he is getting broker and broker. So his loud agent finds him a job at a university as a visiting lecturer. He has absilutely no intention to actually teach, but finds himself pulled into discovering what he started writing for, mending his relationship, his writing and himself.

*sigh*

It's a slightly cliche story but he executes the whole Brit professor thing beautifully. His script is snappy and amusing, and quirky, and (Hugh Grant is in a movie!) Marisa Tomei adds a mature performance to the movie that is unlike what I have seen of her as well lately (what HAS she done lately?) I like it. Go watch it for feel good funny things. I give it a 6 and a half.

tSN

The thing about love is

The truth is, I'm scared to be someone else's nightmare.

I've featured in that dream before. The one where I walk into your sleep like The Sandman and crush, slowly, reassuringly, everything you ever knew to be true about how strong your heart is - it's not. It's fragile, and fickle, and illogical.

Someone thinks I'm a reckless perpetrator of soul abuse; that I play them like violins, symphony, make all the fortified armour around it paper thin.

I've been that before, in another's subconsciousness, wielding powers I knew I had but never wanted to use - riding a black horse of certain death. Always a black horse.

I'm scared that you are my spectre, and me giving you me will result in a dead zone where normal things happen very often - normal being white lies and black lies on black horses and no sweet serenity. No happy ending. Just my heart. Throbbing the way it is now, raw, the last of its veins spurting out the last of my blood on the very last frontier of what I know to be real.

And yet I give you me. I know no other way to prove myself. The fear of you chokes me but the fear of myself finishes the job. They link hands and walk into the sunset, smiling, my demons serenading their romance. I don't know why you want this. I don't know what this is and if Dreamland is my future. But I'm going to trust you and go to sleep anyway.

tSN