Tuesday, February 03, 2004

Just watched the Super Bowl halftime show for Janet Jackson's boob-tacular extravaganza. The first version I downloaded showed the incident then showed it again in very slow-motion. Ah, the things unemployed men do in their spare time. I don't really care if it was staged or not. Her breasts look fake either way. Like two aerodynamically-defying bobbing dodge balls. And that metal pastie on her nipple? Hope that catches on, eh? Kind of kinky in a Medieval Times dinner and tournament sort of way. Can anyone really be offended by something that wasn't real to begin with?

Now everywhere I look, it's yet another news article reporting on this damn thing. I mean, come on. It looked like Justin Timberlake was removing a puzzle piece. That was it. He wasn't fondling her breast like Diana Ross did to Lil' Kim a few years back at some MTV music event.

However, I am slightly ticked that he didn't dress more provocatively. Khakis and a T-shirt? What was he thinking? He didn't even colour code his outfit to match his strippers onstage. Now that's just uncalled for. I was hoping he would do some sort of Rolling Stone cover re-enactment. Forgot his bronzer, perhaps? And what was the ex-Mrs. Rene Elizondo wearing? She looked like Batman without his rubber moulded pecs. Elvira on steroids. Some warped cultish Tibetan monk crossed with Freddie Mercury if he was obsessed with Sting during his mystic tantra phase crossed with a latex-wearing fag hag sans culottes *shudder*. If she wanted attention, she should've just stepped into her brother's Neverland Ranch and molested the girls he avoided with an 8 mile stick. Bah. 37 going on 17. Look what you've done, Demi!

No comments: