Poor little Ashlee Simpson just can't catch a break:
If only we watched sports, we'd have seen it live: our favorite fabricated "talent," Miss Ashlee Simpson, graced the stage at the Orange Bowl's halftime performance and didn't lipsync her way through the performance. How can we be sure? Because she sounded like some sort of dying, prehistoric beast. The crowd agreed, apparently, as the poor little thing was unceremoniously booed at the end of her performance.
The video in question is here (and keep your eye out for the conclusive evidence that punk is truly dead*). It's rather unsatisfying, considering there's no post-performance money shot of her running off in tears, to find comfort in the arms of former USC QB Carson Palmer.
Simpson manages to persevere even in the face of what would appear to be more than the requisite three strikes to ensure she never graces a stage again. Her older sister sings better (faint praise, to be sure) and apparently hogged all the comeliness genes; she's already been busted for faking it on stage, and didn't handle it well; she's not attractive; and she doesn't appear to be able to dress herself. One can't even call her inexplicable success a result of lucky sperm, but rather lucky sibling dynamics. If Jessica Simpson wasn't getting famous by blathering about Chicken of the Sea and flashing decolletage on MTV, then Ashlee would be working at Hooter's and singing karaoke on Saturdays, in a venue where her unique vocal stylings might actually be appreciated.
I don't really have anything against Ashlee Simpson, beyond the standard loathing/jealousy I feel for talentless millionaire dipshits, that is. Of course, talent has never been a prerequisite for success in America, though things have really gotten out of hand in this era of Paris Hilton, Ryan Seacrest, and George W. Bush. I'm still trying to figure out if Ashlee Simpson is self aware enough to laugh about how lousy she is all the way to the bank, or if she's actually deluded enough to be hurt when the unwashed masses have the temerity to boo or laugh at her.
Then again, I've managed to delude myself into believing people actually think my writing's any good, so there you go.
UPDATE: They played "Pieces of Me" at the gym this afternoon. The gods are cruel and stinky.
* The anarchy sign on the bass drum
it's only a matter of time before Ashlee ends up pulling Haley Duff's hair and chipping her perfectly manicured nails on Celebrity Boxing.
The Jessica Simpson pic from the cover of Texas Monthly cracks me up. I don't know if it's the shirt or the tongue.
I loved what they said in the Bum Steer article about her complimenting the Secretary of the Interior on his decorating of the White House. HA!
I am still way too depressed thinking of Keanu playing the Hellblazer to even consider making fun of Ashlee. I had no idea that was in the works until I read yesterdays post.
My father was one of the Ames Brothers, a quartet of tremendously talented actual brothers who could sing and harmonize without backing tracks or any studio wizardry to make them sound good. They were the real deal when it came to talented performers; they were not fabricated by any studio and they proved it by touring the country and singing LIVE.
The Ames Brothers were the #1 quartet in the 1950's at a time when the majority of other artists were the real deal, too. I have nothing but contempt for today's music industry which uses talentless people to make a fast buck then abandons them to who knows what fate? The artists don't have to have a modicum of talent because studio wizardry can fix any faltering, wispy, flat, tuneless voice. Those artists who are talented are exploited by the industry and tossed on the garbage heap as soon as their usefulness is finished.
The music industry has always been a dicey game, but there used to be some labels that would nurture talent. I don't think that exists any longer. Ashlee Simpson is simply the most obvious face of this "create a star" machine in show business today, not just the music biz. She has no business being anywhere near a stage or recording studio because this girl has NO musical talent, period! That doesn't mean she's a bad person or that she doesn't have other abilities. And shame on her jackass (pimp) father for pushing her out there so he can make a buck. It isn't his ass up there receiving the boos in front of millions of viewers. I hope for her sake she can put this behind her and go back to the relatively sane life of just being a teenager, if her dumbass father can get the stars outta his eyes or put himself out there to be made a laughingstock.
Thanks for letting me vent. I'm done, now.
Don't give us that self-loathing, 'then again, I'm no Shakespeare' crap.
Booooooo!!!!!
Self loathing, my ass. I'm much better than that hack Shakespeare.
Baby Jane, I am in total & complete awe. The Ames Brothers! Talented may be the understatement of last fifty years.
Thanks, Andante. My father, Vic, died years ago and Gene died last year. As far as I know, Ed is the only member of the quartet remaining. I don't think we'll see the likes of the Ames Brothers again. That caliber of talent, class and versatility is gone, unfortunately. Sadly, the music from that era is also gone.
Drew, don't make me e-knife you, you e-thug.
Okay so here's my celebrity who-really-gives-a-shit-but-here-it-is-anyway gossip:
My cousin Lauren is an event planner in L.A. and she works with all glitterati. One of her best friends lives with the guy that Asslee, sorry, AsHlee is currently boning, er, dating. So one night Lauren was on the phone with her friend when she heard a racket on the other end of the line. When she asked her friend what was going on he said that it was Ashlee's birthday and to celebrate she wanted to try cocaine for the first time. Happy birthday? Anyway Lauren said that her friend ending up leaving the apartment for the evening and meeting her out somewhere because, as he put it, the "screeching harpy" was getting to be too much for him.
So that's my long pointless crappy story about Ashlee Simpson. I can't believe I wasted my time typing it. I need a drink.