Posted tagged ‘Femme Fatales’

Overrated: Julia Louis Dreyfus

October 19, 2013

The curse of Seinfeld.

elaineThis is a term used to describe subsequent sit-com failure by an actor after achieving phenomenal back slaps in a successful show. Coined after the first projects worked on by three of the main characters in Seinfeld crashed and burned in the ratings.

Since then the woman that played Elaine Benes in Seinfeld has bounced back clutching a string of TV awards. Benes was played by Julia Louis Dreyfus. One guy’s worcester is another guy’s ketchup but for me Seinfeld was top of the pops. The only low point in the show being JLD. No matter how hard she tried she just wasn’t funny. The Seinfeld scripts were comedy gold but Dreyfus couldn’t make me smile once.

The usual storyboard of an episode concerned the four characters having their individual stories which would intertwine with one another in an arc and end with resolution all round. I hated when Dreyfus had the screen time. Her facial mannerisms and the timing of her lines was all wrong. I cringed for her. Her character co-stars Jerry, Kramer and Costanza were accomplished performers that had moments of real genius in some of their works. Against this trio it is no wonder Dreyfus was nothing more than a water carrier.

As the careers of Kramer (Michael Richards) and Costanza (Jason Alexander) have stalled JLD is the toast of Emmy land as she sweeps all before her scooping up best comedy actress trophies like Meryl Streep on speed (or was that Sandra Bulloch?). Dreyfus has pulled the wool over the selectors eyes which is not a bad thing for them as then they can’t see her awful acting.


2.3 The Grope

July 8, 2013

A one act play

(Ralph and Jeff are ambling along the main street. It is a sunny day and the pedestrian precinct is busy but the two men are in no hurry and are just killing time while they stroll)

Ralph: Sorry (he accidentally bumps into another pedestrian and apologises).

Jeff: Busy old place, today.

Ralph: Yep. The old sunshine brings out the best in people.

Jeff: There’s a lot of half-naked bodies about, I’ll grant you that.

Ralph: Wait till you hear what I read recently in one of those crazy American newspapers. This is a true story. This guy is out on a first date with this girl and he arranges it with his best friend to mug them. The reason for this is the man fights off the abductor and becomes a hero in the girls eye.

Jeff: I hope you’re not suggesting that we do this.

Ralph: No, no, I’m just telling the story.

Jeff: So how did it go? Did they go ahead with it?

Ralph: They did (He evades another person who almost walks into him) but it didn’t finish well. It started off good. The couple were walking along until the “friend” jumped out of the bushes. He had a knife on him. This wasn’t in the script. A bit of wrestling began between the men ending up with both of them getting knife wounds in their hands. Blood had been spilled. To make matters worse the girl runs off.

Jeff: This is a true story.

Ralph: I wouldn’t lie to you, Jeff.

Jeff: What happened next?

Ralph: Well, with the girl away the two men decide that the abductor better high tail it and the other one will go looking for the girl. Unfortunately, the girl has phoned the police and they’re on their way to the crime scene. The man can hear the sirens in the distance. In a few minutes the police have found the mugger. It ends up the men have to come clean on their escapade and they escape with a warning. Predictably, it’s the end of the romance as the girl doesn’t want to see the guy again. Oh, sorry (Ralph bumps into a person and spins round lifting up a hand and inadvertently touching the breast of the woman he has brushed against)

Woman: Hey, watch it.

Ralph: I’m sorry.

Woman: You meant that. You deliberately touched me. (Jeff lifts both his hands up indicating innocence)

Ralph: (to Jeff) What are you doing? you’re not under arrest.

Jeff: I’m on your side, Ralph. I do think this was an honest to goodness accidental feel.

Woman: (to Ralph) Don’t ignore me. You think it’s OK to pester woman by pawing all over them because it’s a crowded place.

Ralph: I didn’t mean it. I turned round, put my hands up and said sorry. I didn‘t even know if you were a woman or not when I touched you.

Woman: Well, I never.

Ralph: That didn’t sound right. You are a woman. I can see that. I didn’t mean to feel…feel…the…

Woman: Liar! How many women have you touched up today? You are disgusting. You make me sick. You’re lucky my husband isn’t here.

Ralph: (lifts his hand up in defence) Lady, I honestly-

Woman: -I don’t want to see your grubby hands. Put those grubby hands away. They should be cut off. In fact, that’s not the only thing that should be cut off. (she hits Ralph with her handbag a few times. He takes a few steps back and loses his balance by slipping on litter. He falls to the ground in an unceremonious heap)

Another Woman: You pervert. (Ralph has landed underneath a woman with a mini-skirt. Upset, she lifts a stiletto heel and aims it for Ralph‘s face)

Try a little better

January 21, 2013

Video blogs are the height of laziness. The whole thing smacks of not having anything interesting to say and using the videotape as a filler. Some groups pad out their albums with filler tracks, that’s different. Under no circumstances should there be any reason to just post a video on a blog without any kind of text. Chances are if the viewer is familiar with the artist they will already have seen the clip or they might detest the group/solo performer and ignore the upload. It really is a shot in the dark when you think about it. What could entice the casual browser to come a little bit Clouseau? Trying a little bit harder, perhaps.

The punkish P!nk has always been a cut above her contemporary female singers. She is a musician and a songwriter. Not for her the easy way out with a bit of miming. The P!nk rocks! This recent single of hers is a frisky little rock ballad. For some reason I haven’t been able to watch the complete video. I get halfway through it before I, uh… finish. Don’t know what this phenomena is called. Prehistoric examination? Preliminary entertainment? Preternatural inclination? Premat…

2. The Female Doctor

June 17, 2012

Ralph let out a weak sigh as he missed another easy putt on the green. “I don’t know what’s the matter with my game today.” he said.

Ralph’s friend, Jeff, was his rival at today‘s friendly match play contest. Jeff had an answer.
“You’ve got the yips.”

“The what?” Ralph, although a keen golfer was unfamiliar with this saying.

“The yips, you‘ve got them. I know yips when I see them. You’re yipping all over the place.” yapped Jeff and he proceeded to give a demonstration of yipping using his putter.

“Does the yips hurt?” asked Ralph.

“No, it’s just a spasm you get before you putt. It’s psychological not physical.” muttered Jeff.

“Then why am I getting a twinge in my shoulder.” Ralph pulled up the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Oh no, what’s this?” A spot the size of a marble was attached to Ralph’s shoulder. The globular pustule glistened on the green.

“That’s a pretty big boil you’ve got there, Ralph. Here, let me give it a squeeze.”

“No way.” Ralph let go of the sleeve and stepped back.

“Don’t be a baby. After its burst you’ll be playing better again.” Jeff stepped toward Ralph.

“It needs a professional’s touch, Jeff. I think I’ll go to the doctor.”

“You can’t go to the doctor because you’ve got a big spot.”

* * * *

Ralph was lying on his back on the doctor’s couch, his sleeve rolled up, flashing his impressive spot for all it was worth. He was proud of it. It was a pretty, pretty, pretty good spot. The nice female doctor had assessed the shoulder and was away to get a needle to break the boil. There might be a little pain but he’d soon have his putting rhythm back again. His feelings of self-satisfaction disappeared when he looked down at his trousers.

“Dammit.” He cursed.

This was the last time he was going to wear these denims. The denims didn’t have a fly zip, instead there were four steel buttons in the groin area. For quickness and laziness Ralph always only tied two of these buttons. The top one at the waist and the middle one of the bottom three. When he was standing erect the trousers were decently closed but in this reclining position they were two gaping holes at the unbuttoned joists. From his vantage point he was staring at an indecent figure eight.

“Come on, come on.” Ralph struggled to button up a loose end. His clumsy fingers couldn’t open up the eyelet for the button to go through. Under use of the garment had made the threading process difficult. There were footsteps outside. Ralph pulled his T-shirt down as far as it could go.

“Oh sorry, wrong room.” a cheerful auxiliary worker gave Ralph a little wave. Ralph with both hands on the bottom of his T-shirt could only give a little nod back. The woman left and Ralph went back to the job in hand.

He was getting desperate and grabbed the top of his trousers. He shook them hoping to somehow make a gap. Ralph’s boil throbbed and bubbled with the after shock.
“It’s coming, it’s coming.” Significant progress seemed to have been made as there was a bit of give in one of the buttonholes. “Nearly there.”

Disaster struck as instead of filling in one of the gaps, Ralph had inadvertently opened the button in the middle. There were now three untied buttons. The figure eight had vanished to be replaced with a mighty oblong zero. And then the doctor entered with the giant needle. Ever the professional, the doctor never batted an eyelid. Though, she said to herself she won’t be gentle with the needle and she’ll give the patient a sore prick.

Blood Brothers and Sisters

March 17, 2011

The ravaged car had beaten the elements of the Southern Carpathians and headed for the pass into the plateau. Still, the rain and wind cried Mary and still the long-haired driver ignored the storm as he hammered the dashboard to the beat of the songs playing on the Metal Chainsaw Show. The last three were-

Bruce Springsteen- She’s the One
Queen- The March of the Black Queen
David Bowie- Cat People

Biting the top off a bottle of Jameson’s, he swigged a large drop of liquor. Further on up the road a lady dressed in a white bridal gown stood like a ghost on the highway. Long hair doesn’t normally pick up hitch-hikers, though he sensed this was a damsel in distress and his gentlemanly instinct came to the fore.

“Would you like a ride?” he asked while opening the passenger door.

“Thank you for inviting me in, a vital prerequisite in my occupation.” The lady’s voice croaked with dryness. She looked at the coarse neck of the driver. Would those porcupine bristles withstand her fangs?

Long Hair drowned another shot of Jameson’s as he battered on the accelerator pedal. The rear-view mirror fell off and as he put it back on its fixing he didn’t see any reflection of his ashen-faced guest. This Jameson’s is top quality stuff, he said aloud, throwing his head back as he growled a laugh.

She was ravenous by this time. With the speed of the undead she was all over his throat like a shaving rash. Biting deep into Long Hair’s veins she drank her fill and more.

“Baby, you are my type of gal.” he cackled, thoroughly enjoying this mother of all love bites. The session stopped when the lady fell back in her seat and vomit trickled from the side of her mouth. After several convulsions she passed out. Long Hair knew something was wrong; he had a nose for it. He sped to the nearest hospital in Transylvania, dropping her off at casualty before driving away to the roads of the creatures of the night.

A paramedic said it was the worst case of alcohol poisoning he’d ever seen, wondering what on God’s Earth had she been drinking? She needed a blood transfusion.

Pictures from an Exhibitionist

October 3, 2010

Eric and Rae didn’t have a lust for life. The tour of the museum and the tour guide’s grating voice was making them terminally bored rigid. On and on she prattled about post-impressionism and autodidactic sculptresses. The guide’s informative and educated knowledge of the artefacts interested the other members of the tour party but for Eric and Rae this day out was the bees bollocks.

“See how the roughness of the marble is in contrast to the smoothness of the entwined lovers. The charge of eroticism against this controversial sculpture almost had it destroyed. Fortunately, a war began and afterwards the symbolism of the ardour perfectly illustrated the victors rampages.”

From the back of the cluster, Eric said to Rae.
“Did you know that when television was just invented some people would not get undressed in front of it.”

The party moved on to the galleries of paintings and, at length, the guide gave a long commentary on a work called The Bathers. The guide could barely conceal her mounting excitement and she waxed lyrical about the delights of the naturist heaven invoked in the picture.

“I’m fed up” said Rae.
Eric was too. “This is a bit of a drag. Tell you what. I dare you to strip right here, right now.”
“The lot. Go for it.”

Rae unbuckled her shoes and then relieved herself of her blouse. The wobbly bare flesh of her arms revealed home made tattoos that were imprinted in an unprofessional manner by a hack artist. The blue period ink was a rushed doodle of surrealistic cubism and it grabbed the attention of the tour party. Cameras were produced and half-dressed images of Rae captured.

Dead bodies attract flies and a flashing female body will attract guys. Voyeurs came to spectate; young men clapped enthusiastically for more. Rae didn’t disappoint and she dropped her skirt to the floor. Puritan grandmothers were disgusted though they continued to rubberneck at the car crash striptease in front of them.

Just below Rae’s buttocks was a port wine birthmark; not for nothing was she called Raesa Gorbachev by all her boyfriend’s. The tour guide was rapturous and stood goggle-eyed. For years her painter friend had been searching for the perfect life model to paint nude. This beautiful specimen was Bathsheba re-incarnated.

Rae prepared to unhook her brassiere but before unscaffolding her monumental twin buildings she was stopped by a museum security guard and charged with public indecency. Without pity, the stark naked paintings adorning the walls hypocritically continued to expose their bodies shamelessly.

As Rae was led away with the ecstatic guide following her in panting mode, Eric returned to his normal mindset of apathy. Though he spared a thought for the dare to bare Rae. When she lines up in court will she be Exhibit A?

A Cutting Edge

June 19, 2010

Call me Barbara, said the stunning hairdresser to her customer as she dangled her clippers over the businessman’s head whilst her elegant left breast brushed the back of his head. With this faint touch he felt overwhelming desire for this most alluring creature. The small talk revolved around Barbara’s financial woes as she struggled against the tide to make ends meet.

Make ends meet, he thought suggestively. Both of our problems could be fixed with one fell swoop, one flashing blade, one harpoon thrust. He forwarded the proposal that as he was on a business package with his firm she should visit him in his hotel room for some carnal recreation and he would foot the bill.

Instructions were meted out to Barbara to be discrete as the floor in his hotel was populated by fellow salesmen in his company. She didn’t mind but she did mind the fact that he was wearing a wedding ring. A coded knock brought Barbara into the room of the predator. Hurriedly he crammed five hundred pounds into her bag and fumbled with her blouse. Coolly she calmed him down and motioned him to a chair while speaking with a seductive voice.

“I have always wanted to cut somebody’s hair while they are harnessed.”
“But you cut my hair this morning, it doesn’t need cut.”
“It’s only a little game and I guarantee you, I will edge you into ecstasy.”

He stripped naked as she demanded. Various belts and dress ties were used to bind his hands and feet whilst a handkerchief was stuffed in his mouth. She plumped him onto the Barbara chair where he sat chained and completely at her command. The beautifully manicured Barbara unloaded scissors and trimmers from her bag and went to work on him.

She started with his head and shaved him completely bald. The bathroom door was open and he could see his reflection in the mirror where his raw head resembled a tomato that had been fighting with a tigress. He begged her to stop through gargled gobs of foam even though he was, as she promised, visibly excited. The chest was next followed by the stomach. Teasingly avoiding his middle section she tore the hairs off his toes.

Now it was time to shear his behind and she threw him off the chair onto the floor. He landed face down and groaned with a mixture of pain and pleasure, writhing with a spasm on the carpet. She knew that he had gone over the edge. Experience had told her that all men couldn’t control a bag of cement (cement © the Romans, that’s one they’ve got over the Greeks). Barbara wasn’t going to waste her chic style on his cheeks. She helped herself to the rest of the money in his wallet and was in two minds about waking up some of his companions in the adjoining rooms before she remembered her calling. She put a paper towel in his hands.