Archives for : Miguel

Horror of Horrors

Tracy Morgan and Psy at the BMAs

KLOWN Tracy Morgan certainly brought the KORNY (as expected).

The 2013 Billboard Music Awards was a musical of horrors.

Between the lip syncing and the horrendous so called “natural” singing, mostly it was just a horror of horrors.

The comic, although likable and not comedic, at times seemed lost.

He may even be borderline illiterate or half-blind and in need of thicker contacts.

Who is Celine Gomez?

And isn’t that big scary white girl’s name pronounced Keh-sha?  Not Kee-sha?

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Sometimes They Come Back


Shining brightest . . . and cut like a diamond! Beyonce, who?

But did they all have to come back . . . on the same night? I thought it would never, ever, ever end! Anyhoo, here’s the 55th Grammy Awards Rewind.

Taylor Swift, ringmaster, opened the 55th Grammy Awards with an Alice in Wonderland circus act. Elton John helped Ed Sheeran kill some time and a few angels in the snow. The Best Pop Solo Performance went to Adele for “Set Fire to the Rain (Live).” Neil Patrick Harris (who annoyingly has nothing to do with music, thanks CBS) announced a performance by Fun. But just before Fun came to the stage to perform a funky, folksy tune aptly called “Carry On,” in a corner of the television Chris Brown’s arm was affectionately going around Rihanna’s neck and was one of the most deliciously irresistible moments of the night to voyeur.

And that was just the first 15 minutes of the show.

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ooh, aah, yUM . . . wait, where are the tUMs?

Gutter Love: You know you love it!

Is Urban Music leaving a bad taste in your mouth?

Ever get that not so fresh feeling?  In a world of “No scratches, no hickeys, all I want is a quickie,” I did.  But it really wasn’t my fault.  I had been drinking from the vine and I inadvertently (or somehow on purpose) got pulled from The Fish into a dirty puddle of UM.  Urban Music.  Feeling defiled, like a Levite, I had no choice but to go out back and sacrifice one he-goat, a half rack of gourmet lamb, and two organic turtledoves.  (Without spot or blemish, of course.)  Ignorant and godless, my neighbors merely imagined that I was barbecuing.

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