Did We Ever Have a Chance?

I seriously can't believe Wheel of Fortune is still on television, or that I am watching it in my pajamas on a Friday night (read: my amazing throwback "THE Zack Attack 1992 World Tour" tee, courtesy of Vanessa). Dudes, who are these nerds? I think it is my new mission in life to become a contestant. Honestly, they have to be paying these people to come on at this point, no?

(All of this reminds me that I totally read Vanna White's autobiography when I was ten. My mother is a sucker for good ole celeb memoirs, and I guess she is not so discerning. I vaguely remember Vanna waxing poetic about crocheting, and lo.)

(What the fuck is this entry about?)

J is in Atlanta for the weekend, and I am luxuriating at home. So far this evening I have ordered a vegeterian burrito from here, and watched a spectacular episode of 90210, in which Brenda Walsh runs into "Reek" from Paris and has to pretend to be Brenda DuBois with the most horrific French accent in the history of the universe, then she dumps Dylan and then he goes and sticks his tongue down Kelly's throat. Also, Rosie O'Donnell makes a horrifying cameo to discuss Donna and David's sex life. Also, Zuckerman gets hit by a car and is confined to a wheelchair, which is hilarious because she was like 67 at the time of filming. Well-played, writers. The (awesome) end. I also took a long bath and finally read the compelling Vanity Fair piece on John Hughes, which only made me feel guilty, because apparently Hughes didn't stop writing until he quite literally dropped dead, and I can only manage two posts a week, let alone some best-selling chick lit. Boo.

(Oh my lands. Allen just totally geeked out after solving the puzzle and winning a trip to St. Lucia. He may explode with happiness. Where do they film this show?)

Tomorrow I take mah precious baby sisters to Manhattan for our annual theatre trip/ trek through the snowy goodness. We're seeing West Side Story. Lord, did I ever tell you how I almost was cast as Maria in our high school production? Well, in my mind I was. But really, I was about 5 inches taller than Tony. And decidedly Swedish-looking. And also, not the best singer. So they made me Graziella but she was just a lame Jet girlfriend. Come on. Those chicks couldn't compare to the Shark girls, who got to flit around singing awesome songs about America! What a giant slap in the face, Buddy.

(Oh shit: Allen just shouted "R!" when it was totally Joanne's turn, and Sajak was all, "I am going to ignore what you just said; it's Joanne's turn." DRAMA.)

And so I shall end this entry about nothing and bid you adieu. I have two episodes of The Tudors to watch - squee! - which means I shall fall into a Henry Cavill-induced reverie for the next several hours.

I am out like Zack Morris when he got too big for his britches and Bob Mackie started designing his costumes and then that bitch Mindy turned him into a male Madonna and he quit and had to run to the hospital to see Slater.

Night, y'all.

It's A Totally Happening Life

Saddle up, kids! I am about to tell you a very heartfelt and uplifting tale.

Behold, a Very Special 90210 Christmas ep! (Pretend it is still the holiday season, mmmkay?)

Okay, so we open with two motherf-ing stars, y'all. Yes, that's right: Aaron Spelling and creative team sought to destroy Christmas in 1992, based on this craptastic take on It's a Wonderful Life.

The stars/angels are our awful, awful narrators. One meek little star/angel implores her cruel star/angel boss to take her case, for pete's sake! It is Christmas in Beverly Hills, and the gang is in big trouble!

You see, Kelly and Brenda and Dylan are involved in some warped love triangle at this point. (So far this year Bren's broken up with Dylan; had a fling with "Reek"; dumped him because he loved taxation laws and Jerry Lee Lewis; stumbled upon Dylan and Kel out on a date; and agreed to be friends with both of them until Dylan makes his "choice". Eek!)

So everyone is helping Donna with some sort of "toys for tots" program, and Silver is filming the gift-wrapping (because it wouldn't be an actual episode without David desperately trying to do something creative and annoying the hell out of us). The story gradually begins to unfold: Dylan sluts about making out with both Kelly and Brenda! But Brenda catches K and D feeling each other up on Dylan's couch and overacts her way out of their lives and out of the toys for tot program. (For shame, Bren!)

Then, Andrea gets into Yale! Hooray! But oh no, her Republican boyfriend just dumped her. Asexual Andrea feigns heartbreak, then invites Brandon over to help her babysit. Brandon has just been dumped by Nikki, who is moving back to San Francisco. I am sure Brandon is mostly relieved that he won't have to go to dance clubs anymore, but he doesn't mention it and simply pretends to be upset that Nikki's left him high and dry.

Babysitting. Andrea and Brandon watch It's a Wonderful Life together and then share the world's most passionless kiss, until MJ and Lisa Marie Presley upstage them at the 1994 MTV Video Music Awards. And then Andrea breaks away because she is asexual accuses him of thinking of Nikki! Then he accuses her of thinking of her ex-Republican beau that no one remembers! Then they quit toys for tots too, because they simply can't be around each other, lest their completely nonsexual energy get really out of hand.

Suddenly, Donna has no volunteers, so of course appeals to Chuck Norris Mrs. Teasley, who forces them all to attend. They get their asses on that bus to deliver those toys, and quick.

Everyone is just miserable on the bus, and they all start bickering about their petty problems.

But wait! Meek Star/Angel tells us that the bus is barrelling towards a drunken trucker in a tractor trailer, and all of the kids are going to DIE unless Cruel Star/Angel boss intervenes!

(That thud you just heard was Jimmy Stewart rolling over in his grave.)

Then, something incredible happens... As the bus and the tractor trailer collide, they, um, go through each other. Like ghosts. A Festivus Miracle! The kids are still alive (bummer) and then they forget about their petty problems for a moment to distribute toys to the kids.

Was it awesome? Not this time, folks. Not even a little bit.

Awesomeness in Our Favorite Zip

New feature!

I have been completely obsessed with Beverly Hills, 90210 as of late. Thanks to DVR, I can record all of the episodes that air on Soap Net, all 74849 a week. J is most certainly not pleased. He just doesn't get it. Because, man, at one point it was so, so good...

Take, for instance, 1992, the summer before senior year at the Beverly Hills Beach Club. The kids from West Beverly spend most of their days entering volleyball tournaments and tanning, except Andrea (who plays camp counselor and befriends an adorable deaf child), and Brenda and Donna (who are holy hell in a French "immersion" program in Paris which is AWESOME, though I can't tell if these scenes are actually filmed in France. But Donna almost becomes a world-renowned fashion model and Brenda starts smoking and affects an incredibly poor French accent to impress "Reek", a handsome Dean Cain!)

*Takes deep breath. All too glorious.*

So one day new gal Nikki hippies her way from San Fran to the Bev Beach Club, and spots shirtless Steve and his Curly Mullet (which really should have received its own billing, because WOW!) in the sand. She says hello, then becomes distracted and abruptly asks something like, "Where's that great sound coming from?"

She needn't look far. As behold! There is squeaky-voiced, bejeweled David Silver in Mel and Jackie's cabana, ernestly playing his keyboard and crooning:

You are so precious to me
Am I so precious to you?
You are so precious to me
Am I so precious to you?

Nikki starts grooving to Silver's beats, naturally, as the show's producers will spend a lot of years trying to convince us that David is a talented musician/dancer, before they finally pack it in and just give him the Peach Pit After Dark already, he's terrible. Nonetheless, he and Nikki make out (for shame! He is with Donna.) and Steve and the Curly Mullet decide to manage ole Squeaky-Voice, because the Curly Mullet has contacts in the biz, his mom is Samantha f-ing Sanders from The Hartley House, damnit!

And it was awesome.