Oh Wait, Wait, Hang On

Sorry I haven't been posting, I've just been watching this video for what I assume has been days. I dare you to watch it and then try to do anything productive for the rest of the week.

Pete Doherty...has somehow...won my heart.

Ground Floor

So I'm watching TV and I see a commercial for a new Apatow-related comedy with Mila Kunis, some white guy protagonist who looks vaguely familiar and...Russell Brand?

Yeah, that was jarring. I became intimately familiar with Brand during my 6 months in the UK - I think it's a legal requirement. He's a comedian/actor/television presenter/author/football fan/former junkie/sex addict/sex symbol.

That kind of stuff flys over there.

Naturally, I'm excited about his appearance in America - he's wacky and endearing and British and I support these traits both in principle and practice.

I, for one, suggest we welcome him with open arms and turn this scamp into a 21st-century Hugh Grant. You should probably get on the front line of the zeitgeist now and read his autobiography, My Booky Wook.

I know, right?! How endearingly wacky! Cleaned-up crackheads are the best. But hey, don't take my word for it..."I've heard he's great," says actor Tom Arnold. "I'm anxious to see what he can do."

One More

I will be 'spinning' a thirty-minute set on this very night when I 'DJ' with my 'computer.' At the Summer of Dreamz party, I kept it cheesy and Trashy as hell, but you know what? There are going to be actual hipsters here, so who knows what kind of delicious pop savagery I'll drunkenly inflict upon the masses this time around?

Also, as has been mentioned before, I will be leaving the Middle Tennessee area pretty much right after this event. I've got a visa and I'm going to use it - in London, to be more specific: and to be even more specific, I'm going to use it for the six months I legally can. This clambake is turning into a vague going-away-party of sorts, so if you're my friend or if you're really good-looking, do come down and say bye to me. I just might remember it.

Thirdly, I've been asked by a couple of people if I'm going to continue to verbally vomit on the blogwebs while I'm in the UK. The answer is yes, but there are conditions: at the moment, I have no idea where I'm going to be living, so I'm not sure what my internet access is going to be like. Also, I will have like, a real job (as opposed to candyass classes), so that may also be an impediment. I really don't know yet. But there will be posting, and there will almost surely be posting about Katie Price.

Britain, Britain, Britain

"Oh dear, it appears our town has flooded. I'll put the kettle on."

Love these people.

God's a Smoker

When I say I love England, I mean it. It's not my fault if they consistently prove themselves to be better than Americans in oh so many ways - and now I have to add clergy to their list of awesome. While American ministers and priests are busy building creation museums or molesting children, English vicars are apparently punk rock.

A vicar who lit his pipe in a Kent police station as a protest against the smoking ban has failed in his attempt to get himself arrested.

The Reverend Anthony Carr, of East Peckham, walked into the station in Tonbridge, asked to report a crime and then started smoking.

He said he flouted the ban to protest against the erosion of civil liberties.

I'm kind of sad he didn't get arrested. I mean, sure, he's not blowing up an abortion clinic like an American clergyman would, but surely this protest against the erosion of the civil liberties of badass smokers is worth a few hours in a cell!

When officers told him he would not be "bundled into" the back of a van he said "what a pity".

"What a pity," is what he said. How awesome is that? Though your protest didn't achieve your desired effect, you're still a hero in my eyes, Reverend Anthony Carr. I'll bring over a carton of Marlboros just for you, cowboy.

Trashley Illustrates a Current Event!

Well, car bombs in London today - drawing features an almost-exact quote from a real-life Londoner. Oh, how I admire their world-weary attitude.

Olympics - Now More Irrelevant Than Ever!

Those who know me know me as an Anglophile, and for the most part it's nothing to be ashamed of. Good authors, good television, good music, good looking - love it. I'm not a sports fan, but when London won the bid for the 2012 Olympics, I thought it was pretty cool. I mean, I'd be more interested in watching mushrooms grow than to spend 8 hours a day cheering for people jumping over sticks, but whatever.

That whatever has increased tenfold when I saw the official logo for London's summer Olympics:



Um, what? I thought Britian likes to think it's on the cutting edge of the arts - and this is what they shat out? First off, I don't think anyone's been to a rave in about 15 years, and if they're still going on, I'm almost certain the fashions have progressed beyond the Crayola reject color scheme. I think I had that pattern on a shirt when I was eight.

Way to drop the discus, England. Lame.

Oh, Dear

I must say, this may be the best lead sentence I've ever stumbled upon:

Hugh Grant has been arrested and questioned by police after a photographer accused the actor of attacking him with a tub of baked beans.

Come on now, Mr Paparazzi, a "tub" of baked beans? You and I both know very well it was only a can. Hugh had to skip breakfast because of you!

I'm 100% on Team Hugh here, by the way. I know he's smarmy, but Love, Actually may be my guiltiest pleasure ever. Also? He's still hot.

Perfection is Preparing to Descend

The Best People in the World, Jordan and Peter, have sold their reality show in America. You heard right, friends: Britain's favorite Trashbags will be airing their lives and loves on the E! network at the end of this month.

If you're not aware of the joy and wonder that is Jordan and Peter: she's a cheesecake model with really large breasts, and he's a former pop singer, I think. I don't actually know. They're sort of famous for being famous, but in a great trashy Federline way. I'm also pretty sure they have a handicapped baby. Anyway, they walk all over Posh and Becks any day of the week in my book, and in honor of the THOUSANDS of dollars that will go from us to them to Burberry, I present to you (again) "A Whole New World."



I'm so happy! And excited! Today is like Christmas for me, all these trashy Brits are kicking my ass.

The Truest Love I Have Ever Seen

My favorite part is when Kate leaves the room and walks back in a few seconds later...Pete turns around and says "Hey!" like he's surprised she stopped in to visit and he hasn't seen her in days.

Heroin is SO COOL. Even cooler than cocaine cut with your dad!

Trashley Illustrates a Current Event!

How Hostage Crisis '07 began.

28 Weeks Later

I get scared at pretty much any movie that doesn't have singing, fancy ladies in carriages, or some kind of marijuna-related hijinks, so I was pretty surprised with myself when I discovered how much I liked 28 Days Later. Cillian Murphy MAY have had something to do with that. Anyway, hopefully the sequel, 28 Weeks Later, will be as good. Even if there are no hot guys.

Did You Know...

...there are currently seven (7!) British television shows in development for the U.S. in the coming year or so? This here is one of the best-written articles about television I've ever encountered, and while I'm not familiar with "The IT Crowd" or "Viva Blackpool," I can indeed vouch for the validity of the rest of author's predictions. I doubt, however, any of them will work. And truly, until someone decides to put "The Jeremy Kyle Show" into syndication over here, I'm not going to hold my breath for a quality cross-Atlantic translation.

Just subscribe to BBC America. I mean, except for the "Benny Hill" and "Are You Being Served?" marathons, it's a pretty solid network. You'll recognize almost every one of the daytime shows, because TLC decided to take each premise and make it crappier.

Robbie Williams Breaks My Heart

I keep reading about Robbie Williams attempting to hook up with Lindsay Lohan, and it breaks my heart. I truly thought he was better than this sort of thing, but clearly that's not the case. I'm sure it's all for publicity, of course. No one here knows who he is, but everybody knows Lohan. That's it...yeah, he's just trying to get his name out there! Go Robbie Go!

AmeriVision?

I don't think it's any big secret the United States and Mexico kind of hate each other. And we hate Venezuela. And Cuba. And Canada. I'm willing to bet Brazil has major issues with Peru, and so on and so on. The Americas hate one another - so do the Europes. However, while we're busy digging canals, importing/exporting drugs, or doing whatever it is embargoes do, those crafty Europeans have been fighting out their differences in a different way - the Eurovision way.

If you're not familiar, the gist of it is every year, each European country selects a musical act to represent them in the Eurovision competition, and the program is broadcast throughout the continent and voted on over the phone by viewers at home: it's kind of like "American Idol," but infinitely more gay.

How gay, you ask? Here's the UK entry for 2007.



Anyway, one group/country is declared the winner and receives...I don't know, pride, I guess? I'm pretty sure there are no actual prizes or dignity available, but it's still a brilliant concept this hemisphere should steal; my bet is Canada would enter something Québécois.

Trashley's Valentines! Simon Cowell!

America needs Simon Cowell.

Sadly, you and I were raised in a society that teaches children they can achieve anything in the world if they believe they can. Actually trying may or may not come into this. Every kid is destined to be a singer, a baseball player, the President, or an astronaut because if they dream hard enough for it, it's going to come true.

Bullshit. There's nothing wrong with having ambitions, but to try to make it all the way through life holding onto the delusions of a seven-year-old because your friends, family, and quality children's programming lied and said you were good enough is totally unacceptable to me and the rest of the rational, mediocre world.

Those who hunger for fame deserve the hardest fall, and I couldn't be happier Simon is around to save us from ourselves. Everyone needs a verbal bitch-slap from reality every now and then, and Mr. Cowell does his absolute best to be as honest and straightforward as possible.

Those who try to fight back often accuse Simon of loving himself more than anything: not true. Simon Cowell loves money above all, and he knows what kind of performer will earn it for him. His self-awareness of his own shallow nature is what allows him to be so disdainful of people who pretend they're above the system (on an extraordinalry popular televised talent show). They tell themselves they don't NEED him to reaffirm their belief that they're great. They KNOW they are, which is why I guess they waited in line for hours for the chance to be judged. But the damage has been done. The dream is shattered. We, as a nation, are better for it.

I'll probably never get over his questionable hair or taste in music, but those things don't matter. Simon says exactly what I'm thinking (in a nice British voice), and that's why he's my Valentine. I love those that are most like me.

Trashley's Valentines! Jeremy Kyle!

Heartbreakingly, most of you won't know who Jeremy Kyle is, and YouTube has no examples of his God-given talents as mediator, voice of reason, and judgemental bastard. I've tried to describe the style of his talk show many times, but can't quite find the right comparisons - the closest I've been able to come is he has guests the caliber of Ricki Lake (double V-Day shout-out!), yet he possesses the attitude of Dr. Phil.

But with Jeremy, there's something more. The setup of his show features a different topic for every segment between commercials, which should (in theory) revolutionize the genre of daytime talk trash. In the space of an hour, you can be confronted by pathetic teen runaways, men who dispute paternity claims, and desperate alcoholic grandmothers crying out for help.

I'm totally in awe of the way he handles his guests. Casually lounging on the steps of the stage, he'll try to have a serious one-on-one with these about their problems before raising his voice and leaping to (usually valid!) conclusions. Most people who host these kinds of shows attempt to show solidarity with the people they have on the show. Maury and Sally Jessy are pleased as punch to act a fool, but not Jeremy. He knows they're trash(!), and makes no bones about judging them.

Jeremy Kyle is a smug bastard. Jeremy Kyle is a little bit handsome. Jeremy Kyle is the king of stating the obvious to the most retarded people in the north of England, and for all these reasons, I love him.

Trashley's Valentines! Robbie Williams!

My love of Robbie Williams is not about his looks. It's not about his music, either. It's about his tenacity, and his single minded pursuit of a dream: America.

If he's known to Americans at all, it's a casual acquaintance. Oh, he's that former boybander who wrote the Jessica Simpson song. He made that weird video where he rips off his skin. He's yet another celebrity to battle with addictions in and out of the public eye. (In fact, he just went back to rehab - on his 33rd birthday.)

Robbie Williams is more popular in parts of Europe than I care to acknowledge, but his acute awareness that the United States just doesn't give a fuck has pushed him to try to break over in the States for damn near ten years. Ten years.

You'd think he'd have learned by now that we don't take to kindly to Europop over here, no matter how mainstream the music actually is. Americans currently want their British music to come over in ballads (Coldplay, James Blunt), rock (Franz Ferdinand, Arctic Monkeys) or NOT AT ALL. But Robbie won't have it. He's going to coke himself up for the next 20 years because he just wants us to listen, and I think it's time we finally gave him a chance.

I Was Wondering...

Whatever happened to Monica Lewinsky? Does she date? Would she vote for Hillary? Does she work, or have various book deals and TV appearances set her up for life?

Well, it turns out she went to London and earned a Master's Degree. God, good for her.

Were we ever so innocent?

Fashion! Newsreels!

Working strange hours with little to do but play online can result in fantastic finds on YouTube. My new obsession is newsreels, and here are a couple from the 1960s that focus on fashion; and, for some reason, "The Avengers."