In My PJ's

Let's quote from my current Scripture, shall we?

"I could do you for afters, Dumbledore."

~ Fenrir Greyback, Rowling (p. 594)

That's how one quotes Scripture, right? I wouldn't really know. Anyway, it sounds to me like someone's about to get RAPED. Tighten your chastity belt, Dumby. DO IT NAO.

"Snape!" ejaculated Slughorn, who looked the most shaken, pale, and sweating.

~ Rowling (p. 627)

Interesting choice of words there, Rowling. Care to explain why you couldn't have written spat, or some other such descriptive verb? No? You'd really rather not? Why don't I go stick my head in a bowl full of bubotuber puss? Ok then.

Also, why was Slughorn shaking? Why so pale? WHY SO SWEATY? OH GOD, WHAT IS GOING ON HERE. Out of context, these words read ... strangely.

As for me, I managed to get in touch with my dearest friend Sarah today. She's off sinking her toes in Hawaiian sand while I'm stuck here trying to make sure desert dirt stays out of my sandals. She's off visiting the Dole plantation while I'm here eating a Dole banana. She's off parasailing while I'm slowly being paralyzed in front of bad TV.

Check it: Today, I sat down and watched the SUPAH TRILOGY on the Disney Channel. Basically, Wizards of Waverly Place (HP rip-off, but still decent), Suite Life on Deck (I'm not even gonna pretend, those twins are the SHIT), and Hannah Montana (...) mess with the laws of PHYSICS (none of which I know, actually) and join together to form this weird, deformed hour-and-a-half episode full of the mixing of all those shows.

I won't lie. I was entertained. Thoroughly.

I mean, could I really help it? At one point, Selena Gomez and That One Chick Bailey win a tug-o'-war and shout out, like the mother-effing queens of the interwebs, "PWNED." Not gonna lie: Selena Gomez is the coolness. Or maybe I just really like the shows' writers - those mofos are punny.

Something else that had me thoroughly entertained: Premios Juventud or the Pj's, as I like to call them. Basically, Spanish television honors all the crap music the hip kids of today are listening to. Usually, I don't watch them, as their blue carpet and stage are a cesspool for arrogant, Regaetton-singing, sunglasses-in-the-night-sporting, Ed-Hardy-wearing douchebags who can't tell the difference between good music and the leftovers that regae (not even), bachata, and rap left out.

BUT. Last night, I stuck around. And HO BOY, was I happy I did.

Sadly, you may not know any of the following names. Bear with me, or leave. Don't really care either way.

Pee Wee, that effeminate wannabe Ricky Martin (is THAT what it was?), was made DJ. Or MC. SAME DIFFERENCE. Point is, the womanly motherfucker was locked in a floating box, looking like a pre-pubescent leprechaun while trying to be cool by SPINNING THEM FUNKY BEATS.

Bad choice, PJ's. Bad choice. But really, starting these awards was pretty damn retarded since the beginning.

Paulina Rubio opened the show. GOOD CHOICE. However, there is a problem here, Paaau-Latina. FIRST AND FOREMOST: Let's talk copyright. Your new single, Causa y Efecto, is violating some rules, Chica Dorada. THE WHITE STRIPES already wrote that one, you wannabe-Spaniard. Effect and Cause? No? Doesn't ring a bell?

Fine. I'll let you go. I've heard it's damn catchy anyway. (Not that I'D KNOW, seeing as how that fat tub of lard called JOSE took over 94.7 and turned into Spanish oldies. GODDAMNIT.)

DON'T THINK I'M DONE WITH YOU, Pau-Pau-Pau-Pau-Pau-Paulalala. YOU'VE GOT SOME 'SPLAININ' TO DO. What do you call this, tequilera?



Looks to me like someone's just a TAD jealous of Lady Gaga. And you thought you'd get away with it, didn't you Pau-Pau?

Not on my watch.

After all the Pau-latina goodness (which, incidentally, I missed), other crap came on. Like, 5 billion or so nominations for Wisin y Yandel. These are they.



And really, if you're still reading, you must know just how CLASSY these guys are. Protecting their eyes from ultra-violet rays even when the sun's gone! Donning chains heavy enough to freak out even the most chain-wrapped African tribeswomen! Wearing earrings bigger than MINE, and grooming their faces better to boot! (Have you forgotten my spectacular handlebar mustache up there? LOOK AGAIN.)

Classy, I say. CLASSY. GENTLEMEN. And if you're still not convinced, just look at how well they treat the ladies:



Tha's whas up.

Don't get me wrong: I'm all for the douche-baggery. Just not when it's nomination after nomination. THEY HAD A MOTHERFUCKING RINGTONE AWARD FOR THESE TOOLS. And my cousin's an avid listener! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!

Then they performed. With their glasses STILL ON INDOORS. Guess that spotlight and them fireworks are too bright for your poor lil' retinas, right? And here I was thinking you guys were all badass! WRONG, apparently.

Next thing I know, Eugenio Derbez is up there presenting an award. HERE'S A FACE YOU MIGHT RECOGNIZE.


THAT'S RIGHT. It's the Tomato Picker as seen in Under the Same Moon or The Same Moon or whatever they're calling it.



I was so happy to see him on stage. If you've never seen Under the Same Moon, watch it. Won't kill ya. If you've seen it, you're probably in a Spanish class. And they're only showing you that because they really can't show the sexual exploits of Gael Garcia Bernal and Diego Luna in Y Tu Mama Tambien. But that's another story.

EUGENIO gets up there and starts cracking his jokes like he does (You can't tell too much in Moon, but Derbez is, in my opinion, EASILY the best comedian Spanish land has got. Moon was his first srs role in his, like, 20+ years of career). Mofo makes fun of Honduran president (have you seen the brouhaha that Hugo Chavez wannabe's stirred up in Tegucigalpa? SHIT!) and other stuff. Other Eugenio highlight: when he went up to accept his OWN award for his performance in Moon. The other nominees: Antonio Banderas (WTF, he made a movie?), Javier Bardem in Vicky, Christina, Barcelona, and Daddy Yankee.

HOLD UP. Daddy Yankee? That douche made a movie? When? He can barely sing, let alone act.

Anyway, Eugenio goes up there and, sweet as anything, says, "It's such an honor to be nominated with such movie greats as Antonio Banderas and Javier Bardem." Basically, he was acknowledging the fact that Daddy Yankee didn't even deserve the nomination. DAMN STRAIGHT.

Alacranes Musical played at some point. Bet you don't know who they are. TOO BAD. We're about to ruin that RIGHT NOW.



Let me explain Duranguense. Basically, it's Mexican Regional music... that started in CHICAGO. Apparently, the people from the Mexican state of Durango who migrated to Illinois had absolutely no idea that they'd done so and, upon starting their rhythm that sounds ALMOST EXACTLY LIKE REGULAR BANDA, they named it after their home state.

Idiots.

Whose stupid idea was it to include these penguin-dancers in the PJ's? Don't know. But I do know, that had to be the WORST IDEA since allowing that man, Ivy Queen, get a sex-change operation and sell CD's.



Alacranes Musical (translation: Musical Scorpions? Scorpions Musical? THIS AIN'T THE DISNEYCHANNEL, DURANGUENSE) performed some song they probably ripped off from a real artist, and tried to make it appeal to the younger generation by classy-ing it up, sticking young dancers in fedoras, ladies in 40's style dresses and funky hairpieces, and one racy waitress who just couldn't seem to keep her toned legs off the two frontmen.

Nobody was buying it. Nobody was dancing. Or smiling. Or trying to grasp the Scorpions' claws. Sad moment, but I was glad. Stay off our stage, Duranguense! DA YOUTH DUN LIEK YOUS.

Yet, in all the sewage, there were a few astoundingly beautiful gems of talent.

Notably: Marc Anthony showing his bulbous nose round these parts again. Dude makes ONE Hector Lavoe movie and all of a sudden, he's too cool for Univision. Shoot. Still, I was happy to see him. He accepted his award tearfully (he mighta been acting, dude does has some acting chops), and soon afterwards, performed a duet with La Quinta Estacion.

MAN. MAAAAAN. 1) Mark Anthony. Nuff said. 2) LA QUINTA PINCHE 'STACION. Do you know how awesome they are? Let me show you: a) the singer has an AMAZING voice. ENORMOUS VOICE. And she's the skinniest thing on the planet - it makes no sense. b) her name is Natalia. What's not to love? c) her guitarist, the second part of La Quinta Estacion, is CUTE. As in, "DO WANT." and d) She broke up with her fiance the day of the wedding. The day of!

It was orgasmic. I wish I could play it for you, but youtube's not working, and you still wouldn't be able to appreciate it. BUT MAN IT WAS HOT.

And they gave out scholarships to some really cool kids. I liked them. Especially the dancer kid. He was adorable.

But friends, none of that, none of that, compares to the greatness of Ricardo Arjona. Firstly, he refused to walk the blue carpet. Refused. Saw no reason for it. He's no fashionista, as it were. Below is he.

He began performing immediately after they had praised him, and before receiving his award. No flashy backgrounds. No flashy fireworks displays like Fonsi. No half-naked dancers like Alacranes and Wisin y Yandel. No fog like Cristian Castro. No confetti like Arcangel. No bonfire like Pee Wee.

Musicians. That's what he had. The saxophone player who's been his right hand man since practically the beginning, the shiny black piano that I'm sure has become a mainstay on his own concert stages, his back-up singers, his guitarists, his drummer, his crazy ass violinist that was going to town on those strings. He himself tried no fancy-footwork - he was mostly stationary.

It was beautiful, especially because Arjona doesn't play those kinds of shows. He's holed himself up in Mexico City, probably on the 5th floor of some love motel, where he meets prostitutes and ballerinas and gay boys and has mad love affairs with two blonde-haired women. He's too busy writing about menstrual cycles to give a damn about Wisin y Yandel, Ivy Queens, Daddy Yankees, or Pee Wees.

He's too busy being fucking awesome.

That's where it ended for me, though the premios continued. After Arjona, not even bashing Christopher Von Uckerman for adding the Von to his artistic name is gratifying. As if the motherfucker needed to alienate himself even more from his fanbase. He was already fighting to the death with Guy Ecker over who gets to be the whitest dude in Spanish television - with the Von, he'll definitely win, me thinks.

Von

Ecker