Sunday, August 28, 2005

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating: The MTV Music Awards

The 2005 Mtv Video Awards as observed by a tired and bitchy Cupie (I know, what's new, deal with it):
Opening with Green Day singing Boulevard Of Broken dreams was a smart move MTV and we dug it when Billie Joe thumped his chest at the end of the song like Celine Dion on meth, cool.

Diddy says "you got to let yourself be free", sure, whatever you say Diddy, I'm free, but surcharges may apply.

Nelly and Lindsay (feed me) Lohan appear on stage, her dress is hideous and I kinda want to punch her, but that would solve nothing and with that the winner of Best Male & Female in a video: Kelly Clarkson, who finally found her rockin' post Idol niche' and Kayne West, I guess Jesus does walk with the dude and kudos for coming out against gay bashing, Jesus, divine or not, would be proud.

[Quick Hurricane update and yes, it's still a hurricane.]

Ciara and a skinny (it's just not right) Missy Elliott take the stage to present Ludacris and Bobby Valentino, who? What? I did the samba "all over the world" my cats hate me now.

Puffy, P. Diddy, Diddy, whoever the fuck he is, spews the obligatory expletives, such a rebel. *yawn*

Orlando Bloom (drool) and Kirsten Dunce (tee-hee) take the stage to present best Rock Video and the winner is: Green Day for Blvd Of Broken Dreams, which we love, but we love the Killer's Mr. Brightside right at the moment, whatever.

[Bourbon Street, New Orleans, no tits, no beads, just wind and rain, I can't imagine why?]

Grand Master Flash; Diddy - dance bitch, dance. I could take my bra off and walk across the apartment with the same results.

Hammer time; if I had more to drink, I would get hammered at this point.

Jessica Simpson and Ashlee Simpson take the stage, the I.Q. just dropped to about 80 in da house, yo. mmmhmmmm. They present Best R&B Moonman to Alicia Keys for the video Karma, what comes around, goes around, indeed.

Next, Jessica Alba and Duane "Big Daddy" somebody --regional masturbation ensues and I hurl my artichoke dip (recipe), good times. Anyhoo, they welcome Shakira, I don't get her, but then again I'm a chubby white chick that uses Twinkies (tm) to cleanse my palate, yum. My stomach only acts like hers if I eat two day old Chinese food before I cleanse the palate.

R. Kelly is Rick James, Bitch. Breaking News: Dave Chappelle decides never to return to show business again. ;)

Pretty Boy Usher makes his entrance and presents Best Dance Video and the wiener is: "Lose It" Missy Elliot and Ciara. Missy thanks God. God says, mmmkay.

Mr. Video himself, Eric Roberts, Julia's brother, welcomes R. Kelly, (he-who-humps-the-underage and will never live it down, so sorry, truly, kinda.). He sings "Trapped In The Closet" and all I want to do is change the channel, so I do.

[Hurricane still appears to be a hurricane, hours of speculation to come, the Weather Channel finds a fat dude with New Orlinz accent, can't understand a word except...time to die...grrrreeeat.]

R. Kelly's fucking performance sucks dog meat, okay, we get it, your fucking insane. [jams sharp object into ear canal]

Diddy returns and explains name change: Born Sean Combs (ladies like his ass), then he was Puffy and his ass is too, then Puff Daddy (too much trouble), before Diddy he went through an evolution...Kunta Combs, Seanye' West, Seandalizza Diddy Rice (Vote or Die phase) and then there was Diddy and it was good, until the next thing he pimps.

Enter the skeletal Hilary Duff (my nieces dig you Skelator, eat something for the love of fuck!) and some dude to present the ever wonderful The Killers, (drool) + (Happy Dance) = (black eyes). "It was only a kiss"....*quiver*..."I never", but I would. :D

Lil' Kim - a Lil' perjury goes a long way, oopsie, drink while you can lovey and Jeremy "Cupid" Piven (with hair) take the stage to present Best Rap Video and the winner is Ludacris, alrighty then, I don't know him from Dick, and I know Dick fairly well, in Braille, even.

[Hurricane will eat Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama; Newcaster: are you nervous? Fire Chief: Hell yeah.]

Another Diddy Surprise; the fat gangsta is still dead. Snoop comes out and sings with dead dude, I'm hoping Sting will come out, my hopes are denied.

OMFG! Johnny Knoxville *hump* the man gives me a girlie boner, yes, that's just nasty, but that's how he makes me feels....g-g-g-gah.....he's on stage with someone, whatever...Johnny presents the MTV2 award to: The Fallout Boys, um...who...I'm old...oh yeah, the Number One with a bullet song, got it...fantastic. Still, it's pop-punk you'd think I'd know them, but, then again, I do know them, because they sound like every other fucking pop-punk out there, show us your dicks dearies, be punk, when your "punk" even pop-punk for that matter, you gotta live it, breathe it, then shit it out, and smear it on your face while your singing, otherwise your American Top 40 fodder. I've spoken my peace, I'm done.

Fat Joe on the stage now and presents the unprecedented; Jong Oh Ma? Latina Hip-Hop, it's like I'm ordering food at the food court in my mall, shit. Daddy Yankee? Wtf? I'll have a fucking Big Mac with fries, okay? Fat Joe presents Best Hip Hop, the wiener: Missy Elliot and Ciara, again, chicks rule.

Farrel (?) I'm white and 41, forgive me....anyways, he presents the next band Cold Play and somewhere Gwenyth's nipples get hard and Chuck Klosterman just punched an unsuspecting soul.
"Coldplay songs deliver an amorphous, irrefutable interpretation of how being in love is supposed to feel, and people find themselves wanting that feeling for real. They want men to adore them like Lloyd Dobler would, and they want women to think like Aimme Mann, and they expect all their arguments to sound like Sam Malone and Diane Chambers. They think everything will work out perfectly in the end (just like it did for Helen Feilding's Bridget Jones and Nick Hornby's Rob Fleming), and the don't stop believing, because Journey's Steve Perry insists we should never do that." -Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs

Fuck Coldplay.

The very pretty Ricky Martin and the very souful Joss Stone present Best Pop Video and the big pop wiener is: Sweet Jesus ate some Texas barbecue and shit out Kelly Clarkson and it was good.

Alicia Keys and John Lunge-nut(?) present the next act Kayne West and Jamie Foxx, wth? They spin around on a record, like my Dawn doll did in the 70's, groovy.

[Hurricane Update Live from the Super Dome (the shelter of last resort, think Titanic; No lifeboat for you!) "It's scary." damn straight.]

Snoop Dogg presents Danny Cook a comedian, I don't laugh, not even on the inside, I fart instead, just for the relief. He & Snoop presents Best New Artist: The Killers, justice, full on fucking justice, I think I just peed my pants or something...

Snoop & Gwen win "best dressed" and are crowned King & Queen of the prom.

Eva Longoria, (hold on to your day job, it's all you got sister.), the petite flash-in-the-pan, more famous for who she humps than her acting, presents Maria Carey, minus the faux abs. Damnit! I've been trying to mimic those fabulous faux ripples for months now. Okay, who am I kidding, I sit down and I kind of get the same effect, a little more exaggerated mind you, but still, I'm ripped or my skin did, whatever.

Lil' John (yeeeeeeeah) & Paulina Rubio present (wut?) The Breakthrough Video Award and the winner: Some ape shit, dunno.

Black Eyed Pea's present (minus Fergie's pissy pant, sorry hun, the show must go on, but pee before you go on stage, thanks.) 50 Cent in leather pants that ride his hips like a two dolla ho, and God only knows I like a crotch that goes to the knees, Hip-Hop Fashion, I don't get it. I want slap the girls that dress like Binge Drinkin' Barbie(tm) working a bar @ 2 a.m. and the Guys, one day, your gonna trip over your pant crotch, probably when someone spackles that ass-crack. But, hey you look terrific. Oh my, 50 curses naughty bits and gets beeped, don't it make you want to worship false idols, somebody get me goat.

Diddy presents My Chemical Romance, pop-punk again, I've heard it before, I bought that same noise ten years ago (yes, I'm a bitch). The only chemical romance I've known involved sniffing a Sharpie(tm), while painting my toenails and followed it with a Hershey Bar, that's love, baby.

Bow Wow and Paris Hilton *twitch* come to present the Viewers Choice Award: Green Day's American Idiot. *happy dance*

[Hurricane Update: "You can't win this", no shit Sherlock, that CNN anchor wins the Geraldo Award for jizzwit commentary, congratulations!]

Jamie Foxx presents Destiny's Child their outfits don't match, my world crumbles. Jamie and ladies present the Video Of The Year to the fanfuckingtastical GREEN DAY, congratulations fellas *flashes tits* -- *flick bic* -- my cat just horked a hairball on me, this gig is done. Well, except for Kelly Clarkson closing out the show, whodathunkit, she didn't. We like you Kelly, we really do. 4 1/2 hours, a numb ass, my night is complete.