Posts Tagged ‘stereotypes’

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Cheerios Girl and The Art of the Awkward Interview

June 12, 2013

Once upon a couple of weeks ago, Cheerios released an adorable commercial where an adorable little girl uses adorable kid logic and adorably pours Cheerios all over her sleeping father to help him stay healthy.

Cute, right?  Haha! Wrong! At least to a good chunk of the online community, anyway.

Cheerios had to close the comments section under this video due to racism. And this week, the little girl at the center of the blended family controversy spoke out…ish.

While young Grace is not an Oreo Oreo (she’s mixed race, not in denial), she’s made of enough cutes to get an honorary mention. Plus, during her interview with NBC, she shows us some great ways to handle the awkwardness that comes when people see that you’re the one thing that’s not like the others.

So the next time you find yourself at the wrong end of an inquiry, remember what Grace would do and try the following:

Wear a jaunty cardigan. No one wants to trouble someone in a delicate sweater. So not only do the long sleeves hide the evidence of your melanin, you get bonus points because the warm fuzzy fabric makes everyone around feel warmer and fuzzier themselves.

Smile and stare in lieu of answering. Making someone ask the same question more than 2 times in a row usually draws attention to the how weird/unnecessary/obvious/rude the question in the first place. So instead of answering, allow yourself a little time delay. You’ll find you won’t have to say very much and maybe not even answer the question at all. If

Look as cute as possible. Delivering a blank stare instead of a canned answer might come across as rude in some circles. But not if you’re super adorbs about it! So rose up those cheeks (yes, guys, you can do this, too), dig in those dimples, shine up that twinkle in your eye and get ready to deflect.

Bring back up. When possible, surround yourself with at least two other people with more patience than you have. It helps if they’re taller and if maybe one of them is white. (What am I saying, Oreos? Haha ‘maybe one of them.’ Obvi, both will be!) You can always use a head-tossing giggle to throw the question to them, ask them to translate or just stand a bit behind them and blend into the background.

Start talking to yourself. When all else fails, just start having a conversation with yourself instead of whoever bugging you. They’ll leave you alone.

Watch the interview here and see these tips in action!

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How to Meet Someone

December 3, 2012
(source)

Con’t be afraid to crop out dark spots in your photos.
(source)

With the end of the year comes a host of potentially awkward situations for an Oreo: office holiday parties, obligatory shindigs thrown by vague acquaintances, family dinners, the lack of new Shark Tank and Kitchen Nightmares episodes.

Not only is the Oreo forced to make make-believe merry with people who also don’t want to be there, but she or he might get stuck talking to another of color, or worse, an RBP. In some cases, an Oreo might find herself in the extra sticky situation of having to introduce another melanin-rich individual to someone else. Or worse, they might be introduced to a black person by a malicious member of their blanchetourage.

In either case, it is imperative to make it clear that the Oreo a) does not know this person well b) does not wish to know this person well and c) hopes no one gets to know this person well. Too much familiarity and an onlooker is certain to fear a gang-fight.

Here are some steps you can take at your next party to make sure that everyone knows you’re only shaking this person’s hand to be polite.

Mispronounce their name. Nothing says that you just don’t give a shit like the mispronunciation of a name you just heard learned. If you’re meeting a Michael, try calling them Michelle, La-Michael or Quantas to make sure no one thinks you’re friends. Adding an “accidental”  “La-” a “D’” or a “-eesha” to the beginning or end of most names will make them sound super black and thus allow everyone to recognize how little you think of this person. It will also draw attention to their darkness and keep people from looking at yours.

Look Away. Whether you look just above their heads, to the left or right of their ears or bury your face in yours or your neighbor’s purse, keep yourself from locking eyes with the Other. You don’t want them thinking that they can engage you in further conversation or steal your soul–which they will do.

Accentuate the negative. This will highlight your own accomplishments as well as ensure that mutual friends will try to keep their distance, which in turn, will help you keep yours. Try saying something like:

  • “Hi Marcie, this is LaJennifer-eessha, her divorce should be just about final by now.”
  • “Nice to meet you.. D’Steven, was it? Didn’t I see you in the parking lot just before that busload of children was shot… Huh. Must have been your twin, then!”
  • “This is LaD’EeshaJohnFootballPlayer. His sentencing hearing is next week. What’s that? You’ve never been convicted of anything? Huh, I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. I mean… look at you!”

With phrases like these, you’ll ensure that the conversation will be brief and your humiliation bearable.

No touch. While you may not be able to get away with avoiding a handshake, do not under any circumstances hug, kiss, tickle or sleep with this person. You’re dark enough. You don’t want that shit rubbing off on you.

For more tips and tricks for social situations, see below.

Click here for an additional Holiday Party Survival Guide

Click here for info on how to deal with someone who looks Mixed Race

Click here to see how to deal with a white person who surprises you by suddenly sounding all black out of nowhere.

Celebrate carefully, my friends.

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Diary of a Mad White Black Woman: Fried Chicken Confession

November 19, 2012

Dear Diary,

I apologize. I am abject. I throw myself on the mercy of the court.

I would never have cooked it if a dear friend hadn’t asked. And I would never have eaten it if it wasn’t so amazeballs delicious… I mean… close to my face… I mean …the only way I could have saved those orphans. Yes! That was it! It was the only way! I swear!

I asked myself after eating if I felt more black. I replied to myself that no, I did not. I only felt ashamed…which is basically the same thing.

There are, however, some times when it’s okay to eat of the chicken… and sometimes I get it right…ish

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Oreos A – Z: G, H

October 3, 2012

A little set of rhymes to keep Oreos on their best behaviour.

G is for Gallup
A survey we hate
Why do they look so confused
When we check the box for our race?

Just because we cross out “–ther” and scrawl in “–reo” is no reason for them to get snippy
(source)

H is for Horse
Like you probably thought I would say
Everyone who loves ‘em
Throw your hands up and say “HAY!”

Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t that bad.
Plus you love hay. So whatever.
(source)

 

 

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What Not To Say When Everyone In The Room Shouts The N Word, Then Suddenly Realizes You’re Also In The Room

September 20, 2012

Zumba. I love it. Especially on nights like tonight.

Zumba is actually tricky for an Oreo. During the dance-style group exercise class, some of the moves can come dangerously close to looking like popping and/or locking. So as a good Oreo, I always try to stiffen up a little on some of the hippier moves so as not to frighten the other dancers or myself.

What I feel like when I work out

And then tonight, something wonderful happened. I don’t know what the song was (Sondheim didn’t write it, so I was at a loss), but everyone else in the room did. As we danced, they sang along and sang along and sang along. Suddenly, a group n-word was dropped.

I couldn’t have been more thrilled.

Usually, when there’s an RBP in the room, people would shy away from one of the most offensive words in the English language. They’d think twice about shouting out in unison a word that has probably gotten people killed. At the very least, it’s gotten people into debates on Oprah’s couch–which for an Oreo might be a scarier place than the business end of a revolver. Normally, if an RBP was in a room, people would maybe try to be polite.

But not with me there. It was like they didn’t think I was black at all!!

Unfortunately, as quickly as my happiness was upon me, it disappeared. For seconds after they said the word, they caught sight of my reflection in the mirror and everyone looked embarrassed. No one sang along for the rest of class.

What I look like when I work out

My apologies, ladies (and you, one rockin’ gent) for sullying tonight’s good time. I will work on my pointe and hopefully blend in much better next time.

Granted, some of the following did go through my head, but thanks to my Oreo training, they stayed inside and my outside voice never took control:

  • What the effing eff??! Why do you all know this song???!
  • What the effing eff???! Why did you include this song in your playlist??!
  • I might need to speak to management about this.
  • I’m concerned you might not understand some basic points of everyday etiquette
  • You’re right, it is ~just~ a word after all, you stupid whale cunt.
  • *sobs*

Any of those responses would have seemed really RBP-like. Sure, the growing ulcer in my stomach might one day take over my entire digestion system. But I’ll look darn good while I’m convalescing. Yay, Zumba!

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Diary of a Mad White Black Woman: Name Changing

August 1, 2012

Dear Diary,

I’m sure you’ve read the news (being the sentient bundle of pages that you are) that the rapper formerly known as Snoop Dogg (sic) will now be going by the name Snoop Lion.

Sigh.

I guess it’s neat that he is both a cat and a dogg person.

I understand the temptation to change your name. Not only did I go by “Arden Rochelle,” “Diana,” “Allison” and “Sable” at various points during junior and high school, (Apologies Mrs. Livsey, Mr. Young, Mrs. Koepsel for making you indulge me), but I’ve also done it the legal way and not just the ‘surely-this-will-alleviate-some-of-my-unpopularity-oh-what-it-doesn’t-piss-it” route as well.

But Snoop’s decision reminds me of just one more reason why I can’t get on board with RBP music. Nothing wrong with choosing a nom de plume, just make sure that it makes sense.

Snoops aren’t even the best kind of dog.

Rhodesian Ridgebacks are.

Nor are they any kind of lion.

Just for “fun” I decided to enter the dark world of rap for one terrifying moment (Don’t worry, I brought safety equipment: pepper spray, Olympic dressage pass, Quiche) and looked up what my rapper names might be. Suggestions included:

  • A Velvet
  • A Butter Love
  • Serious Mystique
  • Bootie A Cakes
  • A Blunt
  • A Missy A
  • W Tang (which I’m pretty sure is taken)

These names make no sense. And neither do others Flo-Rida is not a name, it’s a state that everyone forgets is Southern. Method Man sounds like the documentary that accompanies the DVD about how Dustin Hoffman gets into character. And Mike Jones is someone I once auditioned against for All-State band.

Oreo me just can’t help it. I like the good, solid names of people who make good, solid music: Wolfgang, Dick Hyman, Dweezil.

Also, thanks to a typo I just made, I realized: you can’t spell rape without “rap.” I’m not saying that correlation equals causation but whatever, words don’t lie. Unless they’re told by a liar.

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What do you think of Snoop’s decision to dive into Reggae?

What other names do you go by? Why are you trying to hide from yourself (not that I oppose, just curious).

Let us know in the comments!

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5 Reasons Being a Straight White Male is NOT the Easiest Game Play Setting

May 18, 2012

The long skinny ones always look so simple, but they’ll getcha. They always do.
(source)

There’s an article floating around the Intertubes at moment explaining how being a straight, white male (SWM) is essentially playing a video game on the easiest setting. The only video game I ever play is Katamari, so I’ll let the author of the post explain himself, because I’ll just screw up the lexicon.

He starts the article thusly:

I’ve been thinking of a way to explain to straight white men how life works for them, without invoking the dreaded word “privilege,” to which they react like vampires being fed a garlic tart at high noon….So, the challenge: how to get across the ideas bound up in the word “privilege,” in a way that your average straight white man will get, without freaking out about it?

First of all…WOAH! Taking on complicated, nuanced societal topics. Ummm, the Internets are for funny cat videos and re-purposed pictures of Keanu Reeves, thank you very much. The ego of some people using a free, worldwide distribution system to be all blahblahmyopinions! Ugh.

He continues:

Dudes. Imagine life here in the US — or indeed, pretty much anywhere in the Western world — is a massive role playing game, like World of Warcraft except appallingly mundane, where most quests involve the acquisition of money, cell phones and donuts, although not always at the same time. Let’s call it The Real World. You have installed The Real World on your computer and are about to start playing, but first you go to the settings tab to bind your keys, fiddle with your defaults, and choose the difficulty setting for the game. Got it?

Okay: In the role playing game known as The Real World, “Straight White Male” is the lowest difficulty setting there is.

This means that the default behaviors for almost all the non-player characters in the game are easier on you than they would be otherwise. The default barriers for completions of quests are lower. Your leveling-up thresholds come more quickly. You automatically gain entry to some parts of the map that others have to work for. The game is easier to play, automatically, and when you need help, by default it’s easier to get.

Second of all…WOAH! This sounds insane. Why are video games so complicated?! That’s why I like my Katamari. You just push a ball around and pick stuff up with it.

Now, once you’ve selected the “Straight White Male” difficulty setting, you still have to create a character, and how many points you get to start — and how they are apportioned — will make a difference. Initially the computer will tell you how many points you get and how they are divided up. If you start with 25 points, and your dump stat is wealth, well, then you may be kind of screwed. If you start with 250 points and your dump stat is charisma, well, then you’re probably fine. Be aware the computer makes it difficult to start with more than 30 points; people on higher difficulty settings generally start with even fewer than that.

As the game progresses, your goal is to gain points, apportion them wisely, and level up. If you start with fewer points and fewer of them in critical stat categories, or choose poorly regarding the skills you decide to level up on, then the game will still be difficult for you.

Third of all…WOAH!! “dump stat”? Haha! That’s a hilarious sounding thing.*

Fourth of all..WOAH!! This is just wrong! Look, I do everything in my power to escape the cruel joke the universe played on my by injecting me with melanin and making me look like an RBP. But being white is totes tough!! I mean, just look at the very well-reasoned comments at the bottom of that article and you’ll see! Not being a minority comes with some serious baggage.

1. Sunscreen. You have to put that shit on like every time you go out in the sun. Every. Time.

I’ve had one sunburn in my life and yes, I was thrilled that I got to stick my toe in the waters of white life, but that thing stung like crazy! And so much aloe! I had to drop like $4 just to feel better.

I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that you can put this plant’s juice both on your skin and also in your mouth. Seems like it should be one or the other.
(source)

2. Boring interactions with authorities. Imagine this: You get pulled over by a police officer and s/he just asks for your license and registration. Or this: You walk into a high-end store and NO ONE follows you around making sure you don’t steal things (this happened to me at Ralph’s the other week..No offense Ralph’s, but if my RBP takes over and I decide to rip off a store, it’s not gonna be for some fennel and sourdough).

Or this: You’re a kid in school and when you act up, the teacher wonders if you have ADD, talks to your parents and comes up with an action plan and DOESN’T call you a thug.

Where’s the excitement in any of that? While yes, profiling is insulting, annoying and inaccurate, it does make your average minority’s life a touch more exciting. People do expensive things to chase adrenaline rushes all the time. Who needs skydiving when you can get a random gun in your face?

Of course, there’s always extreme ironing.
Yup. that’s a thing.
(source)

3. Dull, predictable hair care and beauty products. Sure, some white people have difficult hair, but you can generally go into any place that sells hair stuff and just buy it. You don’t get the action adventure of traveling to three separate places to find the right combination of products that allows you to actually reposition the hair on your head. And that sucks! We evolved from hunters and gatherers, we crave adventure and scarcity, we want to fight for what’s ours. And being brown forces you into hours-long pursuits to find stuff that works on your scalp and makeup that actually matches your skin.

Sigh. Oh, nude slash flesh-colored Band Aid…one day your name will be true for me. One day.
(source)

4. Not being able to get into college. One of the big comment trends in the above article is about how it’s harder to be white because thanks to Affirmative Action, poor, dumb brown kids are taking the place of deserving white kids at schools.

And that’s totally true. Because when I think of a college campus, I basically picture South Central. Nothing describes the look of a college campus more than “basically a still from The Wire” or “kind of like the set of a Spike Lee joint” or “wait, this is Harvard, I thought  it was Madea goes to Cambridge.”

I mean, goodness, look what Affirmative Action did to the White House.

Once the Ivy League. Now the Izivy Lizzeague.
(source)

5. The boring ol’ benefit of the doubt. When life is too predictable, with no bizarre threats to keep you on your toes,  complacency follows. Then depression and soon you’re writing passive aggressive blog posts and not living up to your potential. Just think how much more exciting it would be if you had odd systemic threats lurking around corners.

Like, you could be Florida’s George Zimmerman who tracked and killed an unarmed kid who was leaving you alone and then ONLY get arrested after everyone in the nation threatened to disappear your state. ORRRR you could be Florida’s Marissa Alexander who DIDN’T kill her terribly abusive ex-husband after he ran after her threatening her life and you could get 20 years in prison!!

C’mon!! Which makes a better facebook update: “still livin’ life, yo” or “holyfuckingfuck!! i’m going to be removed from my children’s life because I tried to protect them against a known abuser, thus making it more likely that since they’ll grown up without parents, they’re more likely to continue the cycle of violence that I was hoping to shield them from!!! hashtag HungerGames.”

#noonelikesaboringhashtag

Even with these burdens, I’m still committed to my Oreo lifestyle. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy not having to worry about the angry angry sun and getting jobs that I’m not qualified for, but if one more person at Zumba says something to me like “You sisters are so lucky–you can do all those moves ‘cuz you’ve got natural booty,” I might go all Marissa Alexander on them.

And Bonus: Slavery totally had TONS of benes that only a certain segment of the population got to take part in. And to think, RBP have the nerve to white about the peculiar institution like it wasn’t kind of baller.

I’m starting with a quick review of the Oreo basics. Won’t you join me?

Not sure you’re using the term “Oreo” correctly? If you’re still reading, you probably are. But click here to double check.

Why go white? Lots of reasons!

Stuck talking to an RBP or someone who thinks you’re one? Remove yourself in 3 easy steps!

What do you think? Is there an easier gameplay setting? Wanna hang out and play some Katamari together? Let us know in the comments!

*Seriously, though, what’s a dump stat?

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Then and Now – Renn Fests, RENT and Sad Ass Rats and Puberty

May 16, 2012

I’m pretty sure that the first time my parents took me to a Renaissance Festival, they thought I would, like other (read: normal tweens) would find it to be a ridiculous exercise, and demand that we go do something  that other (read: capable of being popular) tweens would like to do like…anything else.

They were wrong.

So so wrong.

What happened instead was that I immediately fell in love and vowed never to leave my corsetted haven again. I had come home and ‘twould be an impossible task to render me from the hearth that had been kept from me so long. And by “impossible…to render” I mean that 12 hours later my folks were super annoyed and it was bloody well time to go.

Every year I think to myself (read: speak aloud to myself much to the chagrin of other [read: normal] people sitting in my office around me): “Okay, we’re gonna go to Renn Fest this year…but the magic’s probably gonna be gone. It might be kinda boring. I’m sure it won’t be as fun as OHMYGODWEGETTOGOTORENNFEST!!!”

Every year I go back to Renn Fest and fall in love all over again.

I have changed…somewhat. Here’s saucy college Oreo Experience and my period-tastic blanchetourage:

What happens in the Queen’s Court stays in the Queen’s Court.

And here’s 2012 Oreo Experience. Still dorky, more understated.

Girls just wanna have fun…and personalized garlands sold to us by a man wearing pointy felt shoes.

And so it was that I spent a lovely day eating huge pieces of meat, lusting after perfectly boned bodices and watching men ram each other with their long poles.

That’s exactly what jousting is. Men. Ramming. Poles
(source)

And I realized that while I loved Renn Fests as much as I did the first time, not everything from childhood holds up so well. Here are some things I loved loved loved as a kids and had very different reactions to later:

RENT (Life is hard for artists)

What I thought when I first saw it: Yes, yes yes!!! Art is important, AIDS is terrible, homophobia is bullshit!!! We all need to WAKE UP and stop letting THE MAN dictate  how we’re supposed to live our lives!!

What I thought when I saw it as an adult: Yes, art is important, AIDS is terrible, homophobia is bullshit. Buuuuuut, how hard is it to just get a part-time job, you know. I know it’s not “ideal” but neither is meatloaf. Doesn’t mean we don’t eat it sometimes….Though I’d still pay $1,500 to sing a duet–any duet–with Adam Pascal. (Seriously, I would pay that. Does anyone know him? Have him email me! Not bad for like a hour of his time, yeah?).

Hell, I’ll even claim my blackness and do Aida if it means I get to do… that.
(source)

Willow (I loved them both, the bushel and the peck)

What I thought when I first saw it: I don’t know what sex is yet, but when I do know what it is, I will want to have it with Madmartigan.


Elora Danan’s real baby daddy?

What I thought when I saw it as an adult: Good on you, Warwick Davis! Way to keep your career going, that’s actually really impressive. Am I racist for wondering if he and Peter Dinklage know each other?

The Neverending Story (Open book, insert boy)

What I thought when I first saw it: Yes, yes yes!!! I want to dedicate my life to reading books in the attic so that I can have awesome adventures. Those eyeball lasers are the scariest! I am in love with Valcor.

What I thought when I saw it as an adult: “You’re letting the sadness of the swamp get to you??!” Who wrote this shit? Also, what the fuck are they standing on if “this is all that’s left of the world”?? How are they breathing? If “that” is all that’s left, then there’s no air, princess. And how exactly does shouting an unintelligible name save anything? Dammit, did we go through this whole bottle??

Crying because she doesn’t know how physics work.
(source)

The Secret of NIMH_(Really tough real estate market for rats)

What I thought when I first saw it: This movie is nothing but beautiful. Also, I’m don’t know what sex is yet, but when I do know what it is, I will want to have it with Justin.

You can call me Ms. Brisby if you’re nasty.
(source)

What I thought when I saw it as an adult: *sobbing* Her poor son..that poor woman. She’s… Her husband never… Their house is just… They come from a lab… *sniffling* Why did I have so many crushes on animals as a kid??

Who Am I Now? (Horrible video my parents thought would explain some of life’s tougher questions)

What I thought when I first saw it: …the fu–??!? Okay, I’m just gonna watch it one more time. Maybe it’ll make sense then.

What I thought when I saw it as an adult: …the fu–??! Ha!! If only I had made this a drinking game back then!!

And if you’re wondering if The Core holds up.. Yes. It does.

What did you watch as a kid that doesn’t make sense now? What stands the test of time? Let us know in the comments!

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Trailer Trashing – Transformers, Larry Crowne, Monte Carlo

June 30, 2011

Hey, look at that — free time! Quite the concept this “free time” business. I should look into it more often.

I should also get caught up on my pop culture.

Movies are a great way to solidify your Oreo experience. The repeated images of certain types of people doing certain types of things really reminds us who we are and who we can…or probably cannot be.

So let’s see what’s opening this weekend!

Transformers: Dark of the Moon – Robots do battle in what is clearly an intricate and well-developed plot… Is it weird that I had a huge crush on StarScream when I was a kid?

Stuff White People Get to Do in This Movie – Be astronauts, threaten Shia LeBoeuf, lie to robots, wear Kevlar, replace Megan Fox while still keeping eyes wide and mouth always slightly ajar, para-glide, seriously–in every shot she’s in in the trailer, the girl’s mouth is open and she’s not speaking what is up with that?, be both able-bodied and sit in a wheelchair, save the day.

Stuff Not-White People Get to Do in This Movie – wear Kevlar and deliver bad news.

Is there a medical reason why her lips can't touch? Should we start a fund?

Larry Crowne – Julia Roberts, Tom Hanks and Magical Black People, oh my!

Stuff White People Get to Do in This Movie – enjoy a simple, but oddly fulfilling job, be employee of the month, hold the power position(s) at a large company, be a Dean/Principal figure, be adorably bumbling, dislike their challenging, but unfulfilling job, enjoy ice irresponsibly, utilize public transportation, ride scooters safely, change the tough chick’s heart despite her best attempts, demonstrate hilariously uncharacteristic sexual abandon, enjoy love with a hint of embarrassment.

Stuff Not-White People Get to Do in This Movie – marvel at the ability of the white guy to be employee of the month, deliver sassy advice to the white guy, help the white guy realize his fashion and romantic potential, be made an example of, be unnecessarily jealous.

They're so in love and they don't even know it!!

Monte Carlo – Wait, what? Movies can cast quasi-minorities in lead roles in films that have nothing to do with them dressing in drag?

I know, TP, I was confused and hurt, too.

And instead of magical black people, there are two magical white people? AND the main character with a Mexican Spanish last night is pretending to be a white princess?? I can only hope that one day my Oreoness takes me to a place where I can pretend to be  a white princess. AND Catherine Tate is in this movie?!?!? Cue Oreo explosion in 3…2…1…

Granted, the feminist implications of this film are pretty terrible (“teehee, despite all my hard work and brains, i just want castles and jewels and pretty and boys and boys!”), but that’s for a whole different blog. I’m still thrilled about the CT cameo. I ain’t even bovvered to pay money for that!

 

For more talk about trailers, click here and let us know what you think!

In case you caught that Star Scream story and want more about TOE’s dubious crushes, check out this story!

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Karaoke Fai….WIN!

June 16, 2011

I went to karaoke with a trusted member of my blanchetourage last night (Need a definition of “Blanchetourag”? Click here!). Wednesday nights at Sardos aren’t incredibly busy, so I was excited for the opportunity to sing more than once and to whip out some new showtunes. My friend said we were meeting some people there, and I was excited to meet them, too.

We got to the bar and I almost walked right out. The “people” we were “supposed” to “meet” were both black.

WTF?

Every time you trick an Oreo, a baby loses its wings

He knows me and that per the Oreo code it is so not okay to hang out en masse with other black people.

My friend mentioned that one of the girls was in a recent revival of RENT and my hackles went down a bit. The musical RENT does feature a lot of black people in it, but it’s very theatery and it’s Broadway and OhMyGodAdamPascalTouchedMeEnce!!! so I tossed her some Oreo points and let it go.

Dear Adam, the answer will always be "yes"

Then the other girl suggested the three of us go sing a song together.

What??

We were the only black people in the whole bar. If we went up to sing together, we’d totally really look like really black people. But part of the aforementioned Oreo code involves sticking to a WASPish code of uncomfortable politeness. So I had to say yes.

And I was totally rewarded for my efforts.

I worried we were going to end up singing something ethnic. Whitney Carey or Rhiannan or something like that. But the track started. And it was Hanson! Three black girls pretending to be two white boys and one white girl three white boys! I couldn’t totally get on board with that and I happily MmmBopped along. I also learned that an “MmmBop” was a unit of time.

I also also learned later that “More Than Words” seems to be about a bj. :(

“…if you only knew how easy
It would be to show me how you feel

More than words
Is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
‘Cause I’d already know…”

Yeah, that’s not romantic, that’s about a beej.  Wish I had realized that in high school. Prom would have been much much different.

Lots of popular songs are confusing. And that’s one of the reasons I love showtunes, because the song “Popular” is not confusing at all.

What’s your go-to karaoke jam? (are we still saying ‘jam’?) Do you think Adam Pascal would let me More Than Words him? Let us know in the comments!

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