Tuesday, February 28, 2012
10 Most Annoying Celebrities
For some reason watching the 84th Oscars on Sunday night got me thinking about how annoying so many celebrities are. So, for what it’s worth, here’s my list of the 10 Most Annoying Celebrities in Showbiz today. I'll leave off Angelina Jolie and the JERSEY SHORE cast.
10. Justin Bieber: I actually started out as a fan of the Beebs. I mean, not an actual fan, I’m a grown man, but I thought a few of his songs were OK, and I tried to understand the mania. But what does the Beebs do? He hasn’t made an album in like three years. How many times can he perform “U Smile”? He just kind of shows up on award shows and celebrity events with that increasingly-annoying hairdo, and is sort of becoming famous for being famous, which is a shame, because I thought he could’ve been a pretty good song and dance guy. Maybe it's not too late, but 18 is pretty old.
9. Tim Tebow: As someone who loves the NFL, this celebrity is highly annoying to me because he completely stinks at QB. What do I mean by that? I mean he’s not a good player at all. I know he always says and does the right thing, and talks about God a lot. But saying and doing the right thing ALL the time, and talking about God can get REALLY annoying. If you want to make Tebow Jeremy Lin for the purposes of timeliness, that’s OK with me. P.S. Can ppl stop Tebowing now?
8. Sandra Bullock: OK, I know she hasn’t been that annoying in a while. But I’m still super annoyed from that whole BLINDSIDE-breaking up with Jesse James period. Plus she’s a terrible actress who’s treated like she’s Meryl Streep because she got dumped by some biker guy. BLINDSIDE = the most overrated movie ever (except THE HELP of course).
7. Tony Bennett: Why do ppl think Tony Bennett is a good singer? If he shows up at an awards show or celebrity event, cue the three-minute standing ovation. Why? He’s a poor man’s Frank Sinatra, at best. He’s really boring, and really bad, and really old, but not try telling me he was great 30 years ago. He wasn't. Did anybody hear the duet he did with Amy Winehouse? Horrid.
6. Rihanna: Why does Rihanna attempt to ruin Chris Brown’s career by making a Federal Case over what happened after the Grammy's three years ago? (I'm not defending his behavior in any way, shape, or form.) Why does she decide to go on every talk show in America and publish pictures of her badly-beaten face? Then, in a stunning about-face, why does she do a song with Eminem that essentially glorifies violence against women? Then why does she get back together (basically) with Brown? I know why. Because she’s super annoying.
5. Betty White: Enough already with the Betty White love fest! She’s not funny. I don’t mind giving it to the old gal for staying relevant at 103 years old, I get that part. But does she really need to win Emmy’s and Screen Actors’ Awards for her work on HOT IN CLEVELAND? I actually like the show, and think it’s funny, until White does a scene, then grind on the brakes. Enough of the carrying on.
4. The Kardashians: They are Kollectively so Kosmically annoying that this almost feels like a wasted entry in my most annoying Kategory. I mean what Kan I say that hasn’t been said already? There is absolutely nothing to like about Kim, Kourtney, or Khloe, unless you like shallow, staged, and stupid. Who Kares, right? And of course, don’t forget Kris or Kris. What can I say? It’s total Krap.
3. J-Lo: Don’t be fooled by the plunging-neckline dress she wears to the Oscar’s, she’s still, she’s still Jenny Desperate For Attention. I can honestly say that everything about J-Lo annoys me, from the trumped-up Bronx accent to sound like she’s still from the block, to the way her teary-eyed, artificial, look-at-me presence has made IDOL virtually unwatchable, to the way she dumped Marc Anthony and cracked apart her family because she was relevant and famous again, and thus too big for Marc Anthony. I promise she is one of the most selfish women on the planet. Nope, not a fan of J-Lo.
2. P Diddy: Every LAST thing about P Diddy annoys me.
1. Chelsea Handler: The fact that Chelsea Handler is a celebrity is a joke, right? There is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING funny about Chelsea Handler. Her talk show on E! is the worst thing on TV. It’s so bad I don’t know if it’s a talk show or a talk show mocking a talk show. It’s awkward and amateurish. When making a joke about Magic Johnson she said, “I’d like to see his magic Johnson.” What is this the sixth-grade lunch table? I tried watching that sitcom she’s in, where she makes all those dumb one-liners about sex, endlessly, it’s beyond bad. Her movies are straight to DVD, Razzie worthy at every turn. (Reese Witherspoon what were you thinking?) Every interview she does makes me dislike her even more. When the brilliant Howard Stern can’t make me like a celebrity (He made me like the Situation for God's sake) I mean, forget it. The glorification of this loudmouth drunk who ISN’T funny just isn’t my cup of tea, I guess. We need the CH phase to end ASAP.
Brian Huba
2/28/12
Friday, February 24, 2012
A Little Love for Obama
The other night as I watched that Barnum & Bailey’s Circus otherwise known as the Republican Candidates debate, I thought 2 things. 1) Despite my B&B's rib, they actually said some OK things, and the only one who looked like a deer in the headlights (on all answers) was Rick Santorum, who of course is the leader in all national GOP polls. Huh? And 2) Barack Obama is a pretty good president.
I will not back off my stance that Barack has not, at points, been nearly tough enough when it comes to getting his important policies pushed through the House and Senate. Age and experience will help that. There is just no way a guy as smart and capable as Barack Obama should EVER get pushed around by someone like John Boehner. Barack is always the smartest person in the policy-making room, and to be honest, this country hasn’t seen things much different from that since 1988. What’s 1988, you ask? That’s the last time this country "legitimately" elected a GOP Candidate as President. George H.W. Bush.
Clinton crushed both Bush and Dole. GW Bush did NOT beat Al Gore in 2000 (although he was reelected in 04 because you can’t change pilots mid flight), and Obama destroyed McCain in 2008. And there is NO WAY, let me repeat NO WAY any of these GOPers are going to beat Obama in Nov. In fact I think Obama has quietly had a brilliant first term (more on that in a moment) and is bracing to have a historically-great second term, and in the end of it all, may go down as one of this country’s greatest President’s ever.
Let’s talk Barack’s first term. He took over an economy that Bush had jack hammered into the bottom of the dried riverbed at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, with his pointless war in Iraq and his system that protected the rich and devoured the middle class. When Barack took the Oath of Office, this nation was on the brink of a 2nd Great Depression. Bush was a war mongering Herbert Hoover, nothing more. If you think that our current economic struggles (which are getting better every day) are Obama’s fault alone, you're not getting it. To understand how great Barack’s 1st term has been, we must revisit GW’s two terms. In those eight years we lost the World Trade Centers, the Pentagon, 4 commercial flights, the City of New Orleans, and thousands of American Troopers, and counting, he allowed the American Housing Market to sink to the bottom of a black hole with zero regulation. Oh yeah, speaking of holes, he never “rooted” Osama bin Laden out of any hole, like he promised, and promised, and promised.
Enter Barack Obama. In these last 3.5 years he has slowly steadied the economic ship. Has he spent? You bet he has. Did he save the Auto Industry, a mark of American pride and power all over the world? You double bet he did?! Let GM go bankrupt? Get real, GOP. Some things are about pride and power. He ended that ridiculous war in Iraq. He’s going to win this fight for Obama Care. He’s got the job market ebbing upward, unemployment ebbing down. He is slowly reversing the bombing of the housing market by big banks. And he got Osama bin Laden, only the greatest military capture in U.S. History.
All this while a GOP House and Senate fought him tooth and nail on every last issue. Why? Just to see him fail. To hell with what's good for the old US of A. And later on some Governor wags her finger in his face, a metaphor of the disrespect that has held him down his entire term. All this disrespect for a man who has done everything he said he was going to do. Hum, what other President has had this kind of treatment while cleaning up the country's mess? Who? I can’t think of anybody. We respected George Bush if he got through a speech without stumbling all over himself. Why don't we respect this Prez?
The criticism of Obama, I don’t get it. I really think we have a brilliant, steady, well-spoken leader in the White House right now. His plans for turning America around are solid and middle-class based. The MC is the wheelhouse of any successful society. The GOP can spin their wheels talking about religion, abortion, and gay marriage. Nobody cares! It's the economy. It's my job. It's my bank account. On that point I haven’t heard one concrete plan from the right since 1988. Remember: "Read my lips." Oh wait, never mind, we know how that turned out.
I’m not a Democrat or a Republican, I’m really not. I like to listen to everyone. But lately it seems like the GOP has gone from the wealthy, white-collar party to the Larry the Cable Guy Get er Done Party. I just wish the GOP powers that be would get out of the way on this one (I know they can't of course), admit they got nothing but some guy named Romney who can't win, and let’s go with the hot hand. It’s Obama’s time now, there’s no stopping that, and I believe that when his time is done, it will go down as a Glory Age in American History. We always wondered what would have happened if JFK got to finish the job. Maybe history is giving us a second chance.
Watch the GOP Debate: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gSF6LdquXR8
Brian Huba
2/24/12
Monday, February 20, 2012
How Did I Get Here?
I attended an amazing family wedding at the Hall of Springs in Saratoga on Saturday night. It was the marriage of my paternal cousin, Jen F and her husband from Connecticut, Ryan N. The celebration was the first time in years that the ENTIRE family was together, and I spent most of the celebration trying to take advantage of what will go down as one of the glorious days in our family’s history. Sadly the last event that brought family in was the death of my father. And the next such event could be a tragedy, so I wanted to soak up every second of this night of excess and great company
Jen’s wedding has been the buzz about a year, as Jen is the undisputed #1 grandchild out of the 22 of us, the Princess of the family, and the first girl married. Her celebration promised to be the Royal Wedding of this generation. It was. The last year was whisperings and rumors about how over the top Bob would go with this thing. No amount of speculation could prepare me for what Bob finally put together. As you know I am not a fan of weddings, but the wedding of Bob F.’s daughter was not to be missed, and guess what, all 325 guests who accepted fully agreed. Even Siena’s President, Father Kevin Mullen, who married the lucky couple, was ready to party hardy.
A word about Bob F, the man who married my father’s only sister, Maggie, after meeting her at Siena. He is a modern day Atticus Finch, the ultimate hero. A hugely successful insurance sales owner in his working life, who has recently retired to a life of reading biographies, daily walks though his Loudonville neighborhood, and top-shelf trips to Vegas. Even his kids call him Bob, and all three of them worship him, would run through a brick wall for him. Why? Because if anybody needs anything Bob’s there. End of story. The man has never made a wrong move, said a wrong thing in the 30 years that I have known him.
He has been the star of every show, and on Saturday night, Bob was the star of the show, no doubt about it, even though he spent the whole night telling everyone else how important they were, thanking family members, grandparents, cousins, you name it. When he walked his daughter down the aisle at St. Pius, the congregation gave shouts of “All right, Bob,” and “You the man, Bob.” His reception speech was a home run on every level. His life has been happy and richly successful. He’s just a great guy. When I finally shook his hand, I said, “I come to you on this the day of your daughter’s wedding . . .” That wasn’t in a movie. I made that up.
I had a smile painted on from the second the reception started until the end of the very last song, played by a ten-piece band, of course. I even missed SNL for this thing. My whole family was with me, and everyone was just happy. But my greatest happiness came from watching my #1 girl on the dance floor, the life of the party she was, a confident, educated, successful, intelligent, powerful person, who has decided to spend her life with me. What a fool, huh? How did I get so lucky? Her presence in my life has immediately legitimized me, and so often, in social situations, I will praise her to anyone who will listen. And she always wants me to stop, but I never will. I’m thinking of that Talking Heads song that says, “How did I get here?” This woman is the only good thing that has ever happened to me. That was easy to see on Saturday night. And as I watched her dance, I glanced fast across the huge dance floor, and saw Bob, the star of the show, watching his wife of 32 years dance, the same way I watched mine of 1.5 years.
About a week before the big wedding, I had a dream. I was on a rooftop parking lot atop a tall building, and down below, on the street, the NYG’s Championship parade was passing by, I could hear it. When I turned around, I saw an old girlfriend of mine, I knew it was her, and she was dressed for a wedding, and she wanted me to take her to this wedding. We actually broke up the day before a wedding in ’05, I went stag, it was awful. In the dream I went to her and we danced on the roof, but I knew I wasn’t taking her to any wedding. Halfway through the dance, I saw my wife a few feet behind, near the building's ledge, also dressed for a wedding. I kissed my first girlfriend goodbye, and went to my wife, and together we walked off, down the stairs. I didn’t know what the dream meant until this past Saturday night.
Brian Huba
2/19/12
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Queen of the Night
This would’ve never happened on Kevin Costner’s watch.
Saturday night: 8P.M. Back at the Villa. One of the waitresses burst through the kitchen doors and told the bartender to put on E!. Right then we were led to our table, and I remember saying, “Turn on E!? Who says turn on E! right now? What? Did Kim K and the Hump got back together.” It wasn’t until 10.30P.M., back home, that we saw R.I.P. Whitney on Facebook. Nope, not Kim K. Whitney Houston dead at 48.
We spent the rest of Saturday night between SNL and the Whitney Houston coverage. My first thought: What a classic Hollywood death, almost scripted. Found dead in a 4th floor hotel room of the Beverly Hilton on Wilshire, a night before the Grammy’s. Reports of prescription bottles. Reports that Whitney was found with her face underwater in the bath tub. Does it get more Hollywood than that? CNN was showing that aerial shot of the huge, Hollywood hotel, that might as well be renamed the hotel where Whitney Houston died. And I can see that aerial shot, with the limos coming in and out, the fans and media gathered around, showing up on every VH1 countdown of the 100 most shocking Hollywood moments. Whitney’s death has put her back on the map, right in the heart of music's weekend.
I can’t shake the feeling that there was a scripted element to Whitney’s death. I’m not saying suicide, no, but hear me out. She had spent a week in the hotel, leading up to the Grammy’s, and was going to be the guest of honor at Clive Davis’s pre-Grammy party, at the hotel, the day she died. For the record: Clive Davis always stood by Whitney, defending her time and time again, as she embarrassingly battled drug and alcohol addiction. But the truth was, Whitney’s voice was gone, the star was dimmed, and a comeback wasn’t in the cards. I feel like, if given the choice, this is the death Whitney would’ve written. Maybe too young. But maybe that makes it bigger in the media. The timing, the location, the certainly mysterious circumstances that outlets will spend weeks and months discussing, it all writes like a tragic Hollywood ending, starring Ms. Houston.
But it also means Whitney’s back, she’s relevant, Grammy weekend is suddenly a tribute to “the voice.” When’s the last time anyone uttered Whitney Houston’s name? Is what I’m quasi-suggesting crazy? Of course it is. But Whitney Houston was a commercial jet crashing into a nitroglycerin plant crazy. Reports said, a night before her death, after a blood-curdling attempt at singing in public, she had an "altercation" with someone from the X FACTOR. Whitney being Whitney. People always thought that Bobby Brown, “the bad boy” corrupted her, ruined America’s Sweetheart. No way. Whitney was nuts before BB, with BB, after BB.
Maybe Whitney really wrote her own Hollywood ending. Why not? In another weird coincidence, this upcoming weekend Maya Rudolph is hosting SNL. Maya is known for her outrageous, insulting impression of Whitney Houston. How does SNL deal with that? There’s no way you water that bloodbath down, and I don’t think you ignore it entirely. Conundrum.
As for the coverage itself, the outlets had to toe a careful line. After you discuss the great voice and killer collection of songs, (and she was great, no doubt about that, daddy-o) there’s only one thing to say about Whitney’s life and death: She was a complete addict. But the media seemed committed to not belaboring that on Saturday night, and to be honest, the coverage was kind of boring because of it. CNN rolled the same three news clips (archive photos), said the same three things over and over again, and took calls from those tragedy junkies Jermaine Jackson and Dr. Drew. After that it was the cringe-worthy concert clips from the New Edition show in the Mid West, where that maniac Bobby Brown burst into tears, ran on and off the stage three or four times. After that it became a lot of armchair hyperbole, Oprah referring to Whitney as a talent “Gifted by God.” Come on, Oprah, Whitney’s not a gift from God. Michael, yes, Whitney, not quite.
But the immediate response was flat, boring, and repetitive, even though the outlets did everything they could to pump it up. BREAKING NEWS!! CELEBS REACT!! But Whitney’s death wasn’t Michael Jackson or even Kurt Cobain’s. It just wasn’t. Headline worthy yes, culturally altering, not quite. When she was alive, whenever Whitney stumbled onto a stage or award show (in her druggie decline), everyone always gave her a standing ovation, and I always wondered: Why? In her death, it was the same, the media trying to make you feel something more, but there really wasn’t anything to feel.
Whitney was an icon, no doubt. Her national anthem at SB25 was great. She sang two of the greatest songs/remakes ever (THE GREATEST LOVE OF ALL & I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU) but her decline was so ridiculous and annoying, the brilliance from 20 years ago sort of got forgotten, and a Maya Rudolph caricature of Whitney emerged.
So it ends for Whitney at 48 years old, too young. Jennifer Hudson will do the obligatory tribute at the Grammy’s, and Nancy Grace will spend the next month trying to make this Hollywood death a pop culture giant, and Whitney would have it no other way. But after all that, Whitney, I truthfully say, “Weeeee will allwayyssss lllooovvveeee yooouuuu,” all of us except Dolly Parton of course, who you upstaged by redoing her song and making it number one in every nation on earth for eight weeks. But other than Dolly, “We will always love you.” And Sunday night, Whitney will be the Queen of the Night.
Read More: http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2012/02/11/whitney-houston-dies-at-48/
Brian Huba
2/12/12
Monday, February 6, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Giants Football & Perfect Pizza
One of my favorite memories of watching NYG’s football involves a Monday Night loss to the 49ers, my father, and the perfect homemade pizza. It was 1990, week 13 of the NFL Season. Both the Giants and 49ers had gotten off to a 10.0 start, then both lost in week 12, setting up the “Almost” Perfect matchup for MNF. Since everybody was a 49er fan back then, and I was a loudmouth Giant lover, I got beaten up pretty severely on the bus ride home that November Monday.
After getting off the bus, licking my wounds, I ran up the back hill of my yard, into the back door. My father was in the kitchen, which I did not expect, since he worked 2nd shift back then. But he had taken the day off, excited because I was excited about MNF. He promised to make one of his famous homemade pizzas for the game. But, of course, I had to get my homework done first.
Fast forward to 9PM, cue the MNF music, Al, Frank, and Dan from the broadcasters' box. The game was played at Candlestick Park in S.F., and I was ready. The pizza came out soon after, and it was the most perfect pizza I’d ever tasted, I still remember that. My father couldn’t otherwise cook to save his life, but he was Wolfgang Puck when it came to making pizzas. He had a whole system, with garlic sprinkled in and a screened pan he used to get the crust oh-so crispy. His pizzas were always great, but like I said, this pizza, that night, was his Sistine Chapel.
The actual game was a punt fest, final score: 7-3, a game the Giants should’ve won, if Jumbo Elliott, a lineman I know, didn’t drop a wide open lob in the end zone. At the end of the game, when Simms’ last gasp fell short, he jawed with Ronnie Lott on the field, and it ended, and just like that the Giants had a two-game losing streak and Montana’s 49ers were the front runners for Tampa. The pizza was gone, and my father was snoring on the couch. But I knew, even at that young age, that the season was far from finished. I knew the Giants would have the last laugh.
The next morning I was pummeled to a pulp by all those “diehard” 49ers fans, who soon after became Cowboys and Steelers fans. But in the end I had the last laugh, like my team, when the NYG’s avenged that MNF loss, beating the 49ers, on all field goals, in the NFC Championship (they didn't score a single TD in 2 games), then avenged another reg. season loss against the Bills, a loss that cost us QB Phil Simms, by nipping Buffalo in SB25. I cried like a baby that night. I cried 17 years later when they did it in Glendale against the Patriots, and I’m gonna cry again Sunday night when they finish the job this season, a season that everyone predicated would be Coughlin's last (yeah right), and I promise they will.
Now that I’m an adult, I tried a few times to make the perfect MNF pizza, the same way my dad did, but it never works out as well. It’s either overcooked, undercooked, the dough is too bloaty, too much cheese, you get the idea. After that, we order out. How's that for generational decline? I wish I could call him for instructions, or have him come to my home, and recreate the masterpieces from my youth on my stove, but that’s just not possible, wish it was. The man, and his garlic and screened pan, are gone for good.
As for the bus-ride beatings I took for defending the Giants as a kid, guess what? I’m still taking them today. This week when I got through to the Mad Dog’s Morning Radio Sports Show, I told the two clowns hosting that Eli Manning isn’t a good QB, he isn’t a great QB, he’s the best QB in the NFL. They hung up on me. But that’s OK. I know the truth today, same way I knew the truth as I was getting my head banged between the bus seat and row of windows. I'll have the last laugh. True Blue Forever.
Giants 34, Patriots 20.
Watch the 1990 MNF Game: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5_i07XFGz8
Then Watch the Revenge: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11JKieCb0v4
Read More: http://espn.go.com/new-york/nfl/story/_/id/7521803/2012-nfl-playoffs-eli-manning-mentally-physically-tougher-patriots-qb-tom-brady
Brian Huba
2/1/12
After getting off the bus, licking my wounds, I ran up the back hill of my yard, into the back door. My father was in the kitchen, which I did not expect, since he worked 2nd shift back then. But he had taken the day off, excited because I was excited about MNF. He promised to make one of his famous homemade pizzas for the game. But, of course, I had to get my homework done first.
Fast forward to 9PM, cue the MNF music, Al, Frank, and Dan from the broadcasters' box. The game was played at Candlestick Park in S.F., and I was ready. The pizza came out soon after, and it was the most perfect pizza I’d ever tasted, I still remember that. My father couldn’t otherwise cook to save his life, but he was Wolfgang Puck when it came to making pizzas. He had a whole system, with garlic sprinkled in and a screened pan he used to get the crust oh-so crispy. His pizzas were always great, but like I said, this pizza, that night, was his Sistine Chapel.
The actual game was a punt fest, final score: 7-3, a game the Giants should’ve won, if Jumbo Elliott, a lineman I know, didn’t drop a wide open lob in the end zone. At the end of the game, when Simms’ last gasp fell short, he jawed with Ronnie Lott on the field, and it ended, and just like that the Giants had a two-game losing streak and Montana’s 49ers were the front runners for Tampa. The pizza was gone, and my father was snoring on the couch. But I knew, even at that young age, that the season was far from finished. I knew the Giants would have the last laugh.
The next morning I was pummeled to a pulp by all those “diehard” 49ers fans, who soon after became Cowboys and Steelers fans. But in the end I had the last laugh, like my team, when the NYG’s avenged that MNF loss, beating the 49ers, on all field goals, in the NFC Championship (they didn't score a single TD in 2 games), then avenged another reg. season loss against the Bills, a loss that cost us QB Phil Simms, by nipping Buffalo in SB25. I cried like a baby that night. I cried 17 years later when they did it in Glendale against the Patriots, and I’m gonna cry again Sunday night when they finish the job this season, a season that everyone predicated would be Coughlin's last (yeah right), and I promise they will.
Now that I’m an adult, I tried a few times to make the perfect MNF pizza, the same way my dad did, but it never works out as well. It’s either overcooked, undercooked, the dough is too bloaty, too much cheese, you get the idea. After that, we order out. How's that for generational decline? I wish I could call him for instructions, or have him come to my home, and recreate the masterpieces from my youth on my stove, but that’s just not possible, wish it was. The man, and his garlic and screened pan, are gone for good.
As for the bus-ride beatings I took for defending the Giants as a kid, guess what? I’m still taking them today. This week when I got through to the Mad Dog’s Morning Radio Sports Show, I told the two clowns hosting that Eli Manning isn’t a good QB, he isn’t a great QB, he’s the best QB in the NFL. They hung up on me. But that’s OK. I know the truth today, same way I knew the truth as I was getting my head banged between the bus seat and row of windows. I'll have the last laugh. True Blue Forever.
Giants 34, Patriots 20.
Watch the 1990 MNF Game: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5_i07XFGz8
Then Watch the Revenge: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11JKieCb0v4
Read More: http://espn.go.com/new-york/nfl/story/_/id/7521803/2012-nfl-playoffs-eli-manning-mentally-physically-tougher-patriots-qb-tom-brady
Brian Huba
2/1/12
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