Oprah Can Suck It: Join Pajiba’s Cannonball II Read

For those who proclaim print is dead, I say “Foolish ones! Have you not heard of the Cannonball Read at Pajiba dot com?”  And then most of you will scratch and shake your heads ‘no’, and I will heavily sigh in that dramatic fashion I always do when I’m being patronizing, and point you in the direction of literacy and self-betterment all in the name of a good cause.

I’ve lost you, haven’t I?  Ok, so here’s the story:  The Cannonball Read is a division of the hugely popular, incredibly bitchy site (yes, they are my mother ship) Pajiba (see blogroll on right).  Anyway, last year they pretty much dared their pop culture-obsessed readers to put down their remotes and movie popcorn and actually READ A BOOK.  100 to be exact, and they had a year to do it.  And after reading each book, they’d write a brief review for Pajiba about it. 

They’re continuing the tradition this year, except it’s Queen Bee Newly Crowned Leader, Ms. Nicole Fuscia, at the helm now and she has par down the requirement to 52 books.  That’s a book a week, not so bad, eh?

Ok, so here’s the sad part: one of the originators of Cannonball was this funky cool chick who went by the handle “Alabama Pink.”  She was funny and irreverent, with a great husband and little baby, and she died last year from leukemia, I believe.  Admittedly, I wasn’t that involved with Pajiba at that time and never got a chance to virtually know her, but the Pajiba family sure never forgot her.  So, for anyone who reads and reviews all 52 books, they will make a contribution in that Cannonballer’s name to the Little Pink Growing Up Smart Scholarship Fund.

The reading starts Sunday, November 1st.  Follow along at Pajiba dot com.

Morning Tickle: Hot Mormon Moms

Sometimes it’s so good, you’d think I made it up, but it’s delicious, nasty truth:  a 30-something Mormon gal from Idaho has compiled a calendar, entitled “Hot Mormon Muffins” as a way to eschew the ultra-conservative image of Mormon women.  They’re modeling themselves after the popular “Men on a Mission” calendar which feature some hot, Aryan man meat without the starched-up whites (but the question is, are they wearing the ‘magic underwear’?).

On the Hot Mormon Muffin Mom website, they claim, “Behind the eye-candy, this brand has a deeper story…The fact that twelve Mormons mothers appearing in a pin-up calendar has certainly raised eyebrows, it has also helped sort out some common misconceptions about Mormons. The shock value of what these traditionally conservative mothers has done is a powerful progressive step in building a dialogue that encourages people across every belief system and walk of life to defy stereotypes, step out of judgment and embrace tolerance.”

And if you buy the accompanying cooking/soft porn video, “Come Butter  Our Muffins,” you’ll help bring about peace in the Middle East too.

Anyhoo, thought you’d get a kick out of out.  Want one? Click here and let ‘em know the subversive Christ-killing, Godless bitch sent ya.

Bitch Slap of the Week: CD Review of Zero 7’s Yeah Ghost

                       

Ms. Mix & Bitch’s Gotta Get Track:  Swing

If you’re one of the millions who fell madly in love with Zero 7’s down tempo sound on When It Falls and Simple Things, then you’re not going to be happy with their latest release, Yeah Ghost.  However, if you’re open to a more soulful  - may I even dare say, funk-inspired Zero 7 – then you’re going to love this record.  I have a feeling, however, that many of their urban–lounge-hanging fans are going to sigh deep and long for the Zero 7 girl they fell in love with – not the one all glammed up and arriving at their door today.

What has stayed the same is the songwriting team of Sam Hardaker and Henry Binns, who still expertly craft each song without falling into the familiar traps of overproduction like so many others of their genre tend to do.  Also a continuing staple is the duo outsourcing vocals (bringing to light such talents in the past as Sia, José Gonzalez, and Tina Dico):  this time, you’ll hear the likes of Martha Tilston on tracks Pop Art Blue and Swing, and Eska Mtungwazi on Medicine Man, Sleeper, Mr. McGee, and The Road.  Each vocalist offers their own spin and interpretation to Binns and Hardaker’s hardware, and add some delicious texture and depth to the album, maybe even more so than past vocalists (and that’s saying something because I loved those guys and gals).   Binns also performs on Everything Up (Zizou), and while not astounding, somehow still adds to the richness of their direction.

Overall, a new direction for the electronica superstars – one which may not be fully embraced by their fan base, but one which may bring new minions on board nonetheless.

 

   1/2

Ms.Mix & Bitch’s Confession #17: Leaving My Heart in San Francisco

  

I always seem to miss San Francisco a little more during Halloween.  We lived there for seven plus years, and once we had kids who were old enough to waddle, we got involved in the city’s fall festivities with a vengeance. 

Now, most think of San Francisco and Halloween as another excuse for the bear cubs and leather daddies of the Castro District to don their wares and strut their stuff in yet another Come Out, Come Out Wherever You Are Gay Pride Parade. 

That’s true, btw, but that’s not the Halloween I remember.  Mine had a lot less fairies and pixie dust, but a hell of a lot more magic.

 We moved around a bit within the city, but spent the majority of our years in the Richmond District, and the best thing I could say about that neighborhood is the rents were ‘reasonable’  and the flats were huge – two characteristics which usually don’t happen in San Francisco.  Other than that,  it was fairly blasé…but everything in the city is so close, it never mattered much to us.  What was pretty cool was that my relatively nondescript neighborhood bordered Seacliff – a neighborhood perched right on the edge of the Pacific Ocean directly overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge.  Views worth killing over. With a price tag to match…Danny Glover and Robin Williams live there, to give you an idea of the kind of money it would take to get into that small enclave of cosmic heaven.

Anyway, the Seacliff kids used to have Halloween all to themselves until word got out that their lil’ slice of heaven gave out the BIG candy bars and glow-in-the-dark thingys.  Just an FYI: Robin Williams always gave out the best stuff. Not him directly, of course, but two huge body guards named Thor or something like that.

So we would wander from house to house, all decorated to the hilt, with these twinkly lights hanging everywhere.  And you’d look out onto the ocean and see the Golden Gate Bridge all lit up.  It would take my breath away, it was so gorgeous.  I wish I had a picture to show you what I saw, but nothing I found on the internet does it justice. 

I felt completely at home in San Francisco and it were moments like that I would thank the Universe quietly to myself for giving me the opportunity to live there.  I miss it, I do.  But I also know that so much of what I loved about San Fran was an illusion, or at least out of reach for us…it was just too expensive, too cumbersome for daily family life with two kids.  I used to say you couldn’t leave your house without some how, some way spending at least $100.  Whether it was for food or another goddamn parking ticket or something or another.  It wore you down after a while. 

But Halloween in San Francisco, at least, was always free.  And that I’ll always remember fondly.

Ten Most Inappropriate Halloween Costumes for 2009

Marilyn Manson – a guy who grew up 10 minutes from me, btw – once said that Halloween is for posers, that people like him live ‘in perpetual otherness’ everyday of the year and don’t need a holiday to get his freak on.  He got that one right.  Since taking MY meds, I haven’t lived in ‘perpetual otherness’ for years (wink) but still get a kick out of those who do.

So in delicious anticipation for this Saturday (Halloween,  you fools) I’ve put together the Top Ten Most Ridiculously Inappropriate Costumes for this year…

 

Because nothing says you’re raising your little man right than dressing him up like a pimp. Righteous role modeling.

 

Because nothing shows good planning for your future like dressing up as a suicide bomber.

 

Imagine going trick or treating with your kids and this guy opens the door?

 

 

,

“Because when I grow up, I want to be a French-maid-dressing WHORE for my ‘daddy’ too!”

 

Ok, this one’s just cute…

And this one’s really funny…

 

 

I actually like the irony here, of a Gothic horror cheerleader.  I would’ve worn this every Halloween if I were a kid.

 

Actually, after reading that interview with Bronson Pinchot, this one’s feels eerily appropriate.

 

“Damn STRAIGHT I want my kid dressing up like a leather-daddy cop!”

 

And lastly, you just can’t beat having your boy dressed up like Adolf Hitler.  Or maybe he’s dressed up like Prince Harry when he wore the same costume a few years back.

Anyway, expect a Halloween mix later this week.

What’s YOUR Favorite Song?

I know I tend to give Rolling Stones a hard time, but that’s how I show my love.  Anyway, while I’m not ambitious enough to post the Top 500 Songs of All Times, I’m up for offering the Top 100.  So let me know what you would put on the list.  Hell, give me your own Top 100 and see how many line up with I put on the blog this week

Can’t wait to see what you all come up with…

‘John’ny Rotten

Dear Ms. Mix & Bitch,

So I’ve got a situation I know has never been on your blog…

I’m a 20-year-old college student living in New York.  About a year ago, my parents went into bankruptcy, losing the family business that’s been in our family for four generations.  I thought I was going to have to drop out of school and move back home (to Wisconsin), but instead, and to make a long story short, I got into the escort business.  Now, I’m able to pay for my living expenses plus school no problem.  My family thinks I’m a personal assistant to a wealthy, well-connected family (in reality, the guy is one of my clients). 

Anyway, I don’t want you to lecture me on selling myself.  I know what I’m doing and while this is certainly not a lifestyle choice, I’m fine with it for now. I only have three semesters of school left and then I graduate.  It’s a means to an end.

My problem is this:  one of my clients -let’s call him ‘Adam’ – has become overly attached.  He’s actually a nice guy, funny, smart, a little controlling, but up until recently, very cool.  He’s a trust fund baby (very well known family) who’s fairly close in age to me, which is maybe why I shared with him my real name, where I’m from, my life really.

Anyway, now he wants me to quit “work”, and school and just be his girlfriend.  I told him I couldn’t do that, I need to finish school. After a couple more trys, he started getting angry, and now he’s threatening to tell my family, my school what I do for a living.  I asked him why he would threatened such a thing if he cares about me.  He says I’m ‘making him’ do it. 

What do I do? Do I have any way out of this? I haven’t told anyone about this, except you.

Signed,   The College Coquette

Dear Coquette,

Wow, you’re in way over your head…you know, it’s stories such as this one which remind me of what Chris Rock said, “If you’re daughter’s on the pole, some how, some way, you’ve MAJORLY fucked up.” But I’ll get to that in a minute…

First, let’s get you away from this guy.  Go to your escort service, and tell them the situation.  I’m sure they’ve heard this one before and can persuade him to knock it off.  If not, gather evidence of your time together – the DNA kind, the credit card/checks/evidence of payment type is preferable – and tell him if he bothers you or your family, you’re going to the press and to HIS family.  Trust me, he doesn’t want the mess and has just as much – if not more – to lose than you. If it escalates further, go to the police – which I know is the last thing you want to do, but your safety comes first.

Then, do what most girls do and TAKE OUT A FUCKING STUDENT LOAN, GET A JOB AS A WAITRESS OR SOMETHING and get out of this business for good.  It’s only three semesters, you won’t be in debt forever.  Because guess what?  Selling yourself is a big deal. I know you don’t want to hear it, but too bad.  Your body, your self-respect is worth infinitely more than what they’re paying.  Besides you’re kidding yourself if you think it’s going to be so easy to walk away.  Being a prostitute really fucks with your head about what men are like…if it hasn’t happened already, you’re going to think they’re all low-down, dirty dogs or pathetic headcases.  It’s an extremely skewed view of the world when primarily seen through our worst vices.  Plus, the money’s so good that you’ll find yourself justifying almost anything to keep it coming in.  Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t be that girl. 

Also, consider this guy – not a nice guy, btw – a warning: there are plenty of girls in your business who are never heard from again, because someone with money and power had them “taken care of.”  Trust me, that would devastate your parents much more than bankruptcy ever did. 

Whatever you decide to do, please contact the Sex Worker Outreach Project of New York City.  SWOP-NYC  has open meetings (for current/former sex workers) and are held the third Thursday of every month in the Financial District of lower Manhattan from 7-9pm. Please be punctual, respect the space, and the privacy of attendees. No one is required to out themselves as a current or former sex worker or otherwise. For the exact location, please introduce yourself by email to: swank@riseup.net

I’m sure they can help you out even better than I can.  Good luck.

10.  “Sex Type Thing,” (Stone Temple Pilots) Core.

09.  “Freak on a Leash,”  (Korn) Freak on a Leash.

08.  “Salute Your Solution,”  (The Rancoteurs) Consolers of the Lonely.

07.  “Sour Cherry,”  (The Kills) Midnight Boom.

06.  “Move Along,” (The All-American Rejects)  Move Along.

05.  “An End Has a Start,”  (Editors) An End Has a Start.

04.  “Fix You,” (Coldplay) X & Y.

03.  “Here Comes a Regular,” (The Replacements) Don’t You Know Who I Think I Was?

02.  “Tears are In Your Eyes,”  (Yo La Tengo) And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out.

01.  “Another Morning,”  (The American Music Club) Love Songs for Patriots.

Ms. Mix & Bitch’s Confession #15: Trent Reznor and Me

For those looking at the title and expecting to hear about some crazy-freaky, back stage romp session, stop reading now because I’ll disappoint you.  For those of you who follow music, you’ll know that it’s the 20th Anniversary of the release of NIN’s Pretty Hate Machine, and while 99% of the time I just shrug and roll my eyes at celebrating the anniversary of a record, for Trent’s seminal work, I’ll make an exception.

Pretty Hate Machine was like nothing I had ever heard.  Full of indignant rage and venom,  Reznor managed to capture the same white male fury over societal class inequities and social isolation often relegated to the metal subgenre, but instead, his message was filtered through the new wave derivative called “industrial”.   Taking most of his influence from glam alternative such as David Bowie, new wavers Kraftwerk and Gary Numan, and mixing it with industrial legends like Skinny Puppy, Nine Inch Nails’ brought industrial to a wider audience.

And it came at the perfect time.  Having barely emerged from the greed and corruption of the Eighties decade in one soulful piece (remember Gordon Gecko’s edict, ‘greed is good’?), there were a slew of working-class anthems eschewing political and corporate corruption peppering the airwaves, like Tracy Chapman’s ‘Talkin’ Bout a Revolution’ and later on Nirvana’s ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ capturing our collective attention.  Trent rallied against all of it, with a fury and intensity not yet experienced by Generation Xers.

I’ve gotta admit, at the time seeing the pampered and privileged at the University of Miami singing  with the likes of Vedder and Cobain was out-and-out laughable…what the hell do they have to be angry about? They’ve got the world by the balls and they know it.  But even with the earnest intention of the message, I knew they were singing along for(gulp) fashion and nothing more. 

Sooner versus later, I cast off the yoke of my former sorority self (it never seemed to fit anyway) and became a DJ at  WVUM.  That’s where all the smart kids on scholarships hung out, and another world opened up to me.  And they all listened to NIN and spoke fluent Reznor. He screamed of a world they knew all too well, one where even white male priviledge wasn’t a guarantee to the keys to the kingdom.  I admit, I was a tourist, but I knew enough to not pretend to be something I wasn’t…I was an upper-middle class, suburban gal who only worked jobs for extra spending money.  I didn’t know half of the socioeconomic shit they struggled with.  But I came from a messed-up family background all the same,  filled with long-standing abuse…in other words, I was damaged somehow and they were sharp enough to recognize that.  I was accepted as one of their own in a way I had hoped would have occurred through Greek-inspired sorority sisterhood (but fell tragically short).  It didn’t matter what kind of car I drove or if I was wearing the latest ridiculous pair of EG socks, but it did mattered what I thought and if I had the wit and wisdom to back it up.  And I couldn’t fake it – any of it – because that bullshit would be sensed a mile away and not tolerated.

And somehow, through songs like “Head Like a Hole,”  “Terrible Lie,” “Down in It,” among others, I found my voice – to express my rage at a family throwing me emotionally under the bus, to free myself from the suffocating dictates of my socio-religious culture, and from the heartbreak and tyranny of being taken for granted by the supposed love of my life at the time.  I think Pretty Hate Machine did that for a lot of us. 

It got worse before it got better, and listening to too much NIN will probably have you raging and wallowing in it longer than you should, but regardless, it was a great release at the time.  So there’s that…

Marital Love Drama – Not Just for the Straights Anymore.

So not like this is major news or something, but Rosie O’Donnell and her partner, Kellie Carpenter are currently separated  – and I was, like, completely shocked because it went against my ridiculous stereotyped notion about lesbian couples, that they last forever because:

1) They’re women, and “naturally” more commitment-minded.

2) They don’t have to deal with men.

3) Eliminating hair in the sink and toilet seats left up actually does lead to eternal domestic bliss.

4) They don’t have to deal with men -oh wait, I said that already.  Oopsie.

They’ve only been married for, like, five years.  In lesbo years, that’s like six months and in gay man land, that’s easily the equivalent of twenty years.  For us heteros, we’re living in real time – and it’s all agony.  Kidding.  Really.

Of course, I realize that there are plenty of lesbian women who are just as much of a pain in the ass as my man meat choices,  and a sorry few who probably leave hair in the sink.

And excluding my brief Sapphic phase my junior year in college – and just to torture my guy readers, yes, she was exquisite – think Tawny Kitaen during his Whitesnake video phase:

Not her post baseball player/felony phase:

After that lil’ which-way-my-bread-was-buttered experient, I knew through and through I’m stuck with the men forever.  Yeah, yeah, you rock my world. Whadaya gonna do?

Anyway, guess domestic discord is an equal opportunity mindfucker. Here’s my top ten for the ladies lovin the ladies…and just to make it harder on myself, I’m banning Melissa Etheridge and k.d. lang:

10.  “Female of the Species,”  (Space)  Greatest Hits.

09.  “Bells and Bombs,”  (Erin McKeown) We Will Become Like Birds.

08.  “I Melt with You,” (Nouvelle Vague)   Nouvelle Vague.

07.  “You Cheated Me,”  (Martha Wainwright)  I Know You’re Married, But I’ve Got Feelings Too.

06.  “Light My Fire,”  (Patricia Barber)  Modern Cool.

05.  “Cutie Pie,”  (All Girl Summer Fun Band)  All Girl Summer Fun Band.

04.  “Fidelity,”  (Regina Specktor)  Begin to Hope.

03.  “Love Song #1,”  (Me’Shell Ndegeocello) Comfort Woman.

02.  “Your Love,”  (The Butchies) Make Yr Life.

01.  “Karen By Night,”  (Jill Sobule)  Jill Sobule.

Ms. Mix & Bitch’s Confession #12: Still Crazy After All These Years

  

This December, Mr. Mix and I will be celebrating our 13th anniversary.  Yep, Lucky 13.  And I don’t know what goes on behind closed doors in your hobbit houses, but here at Mix & Bitch headquarters, we’re working hard not to get stuck in the label of co-parents first and lovers much later.  When the girls were younger, we definitely failed at that many times.  But now Drama Queen’s almost six and Sweet Pea just turned ten, so needless to say that while they still have these Spidey Senses which insist on busting in on us the minute we’re alone together, we’re starting to manipulate their schedules more so we actually get the house to ourselves once in a while.

Not nearly enough.

Anyway, in addition to just getting actual alone time together, we’re trying to keep it “fresh” – which GodDamn I don’t know how you do when you’ve been fucking the same person for most of your adult life.  Before Mr. Mix came alone my longest relationship was just shy a year, and trust me, that was the outlier stat in my dating history because most of them lasted between 3-6 months on average. 

Why so little?

Hmm…well, Ms. Mix & Bitch had MAJOR emotional intimacy/father issues (yum – just a delic combo)…the minute a guy started talking commitment, I literally got ill.  I remember going on a date with this guy Mandy in college (yes, it was a guy. Really. His parents must have really loved Barry Manilow, I guess   who was expressing how much he liked me – probably because I was one of the few girls he knew who liked Bob Dylan – and while he’s being perfectly normal and sweet and forthcoming, Lil Miss Fucked in the Head literally stopped walking on the South Beach boardwalk by The Clevelander to hurl in an alley.  I blamed it on the sushi, but deep down, I knew better.

The ones who lasted longer were even more emotionally distant and messed up than I was (yes, I’m talking about you, E.K.)…what’s my point? I guess I’m just amazed that my man and I still want to get it on after so long.  I just wish that keeping it fresh didn’t sometimes feel like work.  Not all the time, but it takes effort to not fall into the same ol, same ol patterns.  That said, we’re not up for swinging or swapping or watching the other with someone else.  Either I’m just not that freaky or free or ridiculous, take your pick. And the whole tying up/role playing thingy feels like Halloween Gone Bad to us.

I wouldn’t mind another “husband” – you know, Utah style – because I like the idea of monogomy and, um, you know, actually knowing the person who’s lap sword’s going into you, but I don’t think Mr. Mix is going for that one anytime soon.  Although man would it take the pressure off of him.

“Want to go to the movies honey?”

“Can we see the latest action adventure load of crap?”

“No, I want to see the overindulgent weepy chick flick.”

“Shit babe, can’t you just take ‘Zack’ ? (this is the name of my fictitious second husband)”

“Sure thing – go watch the game. Buh bye!”

‘Zack’ would help with the kids and go to all that museum-y/chick lite outings I want to go to, and be up for sex in the middle of the afternoon and help with the grocery shopping afterwards and….

Wait a second. That’s not a second husband. That’s a wife.  Man, and I thought I was really onto something