A Daily Dose of Zen Sarcasm!


Watching reruns of “Flavor of Love”– suddenly, Flavor Flav sings to us that this one girl “got the applesauce.”

Both the Monsieur and I threw up in our own mouths a little. So he was referring to her ass, but….. but… *shudders*

Funny enough, I think that was a similar lurching to the one we felt when the Heath Ledger character appears to lube his penis up with spit right before having what appears to be some very rough sex with the Jake Gyllenhaal character.

Go ahead and think that we’re homophobes; I know in my heart that is not the truth.

The truth is more closer to the juvenile chanting of “GET YOUR OWN DAMN ROOM!!!”


For the record, according to the Internet Movie Database, Heath Ledger nearly broke Jake Gyllenhaal’s nose during a kissing scene. So one thing is clear: it was not just me thinking that those were some rough love scenes. Maybe that’s the cowboy way.


For all the hoopla and the derision, “Brokeback Mountain” turned out to be an incredibly painful and sad movie, and it should probably be required to be viewed by anyone who ever crowed about having a bad love life. There are very few ways to un-tritely describe what it must feel like to have so much love stored up inside and have to suffer in silence because it cannot be enjoyed and it is viewed by everyone as something wrong and filthy.

It was really, just …. quite sad, and beautiful. I don’t even want to talk much more about it: I really just want to savor the twangy guitar theme that is far more eloquent than anyone’s description of the movie itself.


And yet, back to Flavor of Love, the yearning is kind of similar even if the execution is…. uh….

Well: if you’ve ever seen the show, you might know what I mean. For instance, all the girls have these wildly-phonetically-spelled nicknames and…

…yes, I’m having an attack of the ellipses. Mostly because I’m a little out of words, honestly.

The first episode moved me. This guy — Mr. William Drayton– has a yearning for love just as anyone else does.

He was hurt, first by Brigitte Nielsen and then by the chick who just wanted his money (imagine that).

So he really is looking for love, which I think is really quite sweet (and about time since he’s like 47 years old), but oh. Oh, must it be like that?

Must it be like that? Can’t you get your own private matchmakers and spare us all the agony and the bits of semi-digested dinner sliding back into the mouth?


Then again, we really can just not watch. Which means we’re all perverts, because we will watch it all, including the re-runs and the reunions.

Yes: perverts. Including you all.

This entry was published on September 26, 2006 at 8:11 pm and is filed under Pop Culture. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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