A Fallen Angel

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the three original Charlie’s Angels give an emotional—and kilometric—tribute to the late super TV producer Aaron Spelling during last night’s Emmy Awards. I remember watching the series as a child, even though I never really understood back then what the show was all about in the first place.

Jaclyn Smith is still damn gorgeous, and Kate Jackson has aged rather gracefully. I only wish the same could be said of the supposed bombshell of the series, Farrah Fawcett. She looked rather old, and practically had little or none of the appeal that made her the inspiration for many a man’s wildest fantasies in the 70’s.

I guess a trip to the friendly neighborhood cosmetic surgeon is in order for the ex-Angel.

Tattoo Blues

I’ve been wanting to get a tattoo ever since I was a teenager. After all, if supposedly pampered Hollywood types like Johnny Depp could do it, then why can’t I?

But the truth is, Captain Jack Sparrow is much tougher than I am. Honestly, I’m a wimp when it comes to needles. Just even thinking about getting some artist to make my skin his canvas for his beautiful tattoo designs gets chills running down my spine.

Still, it can’t be denied that these tattoo artists indeed deserve to be called artists. Their tattoo designs are unbelievably great, and I could only stare in awe while mustering enough courage to finally get one of my own. Just give me a year or two and I’d probably be brave enough to take those needles like a man.

No “Little Man” For Me…

After shelling out hard-earned bucks to watch the movie “White Chicks”, I’ve decided right there and then not to watch any more of the crap that the Wayans Brothers foist on the unsuspecting but willfully paying public.

That’s why their latest project called “Little Man” is never gonna fool me anymore. I’ve seen the trailer, I’ve heard from friends who’ve seen the movie and the verdict is clear: This movie sucks.

Personally, I don’t hate the Wayans brothers. My friend does, just like he hints at in his Neil Crespi MySpace profile, but I don’t. In fact, I think the Wayans family is a funny bunch, but the material they use for their films are just total crap that seeing them act it out on screen makes me cringe. If only they could write better…

My friend’s McPheever

A friend of mine who now works for a San Diego web design firm is a big fan of Katharine McPhee, this year’s American Idol runner-up. Actually, he thought he’s in love with the gorgeous singer—then just recently found out she already has a boyfriend.

But what really got his gall is that McPhee’s boyfriend—a bloke who goes by the name Nick Cokas—is already 41 years old, 19 years older than my friend’s American Idol.

That’s the way it is in Hollywood nowadays, buddy. I mean, check out Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones. Harrison Ford and Calista Flockhart. Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher. Cher and whatever 12-year-old kid she’s dating now. May-December affairs seem to be the norm in celebrity circles nowadays.

Anyway, he’s still got the McPheever, middle-aged boyfriend or not, and I don’t blame him.

They’re used to pain on court, but…

Almost everyone in the NBA nowadays sports a tattoo or tattoos of every color and design imaginable. From Miami Heat center Shaquille O’Neal to Cleveland Cavalier LeBron James, these superstars get these tattoos for reasons that range from intimidation purposes to just plain aesthetics.

But pretty soon, these guys would tend to get tired of their tattoos, in much the same way they get tired of their wives and pick up somebody younger and prettier while on the road. Most tattoo removal methods currently available, however, are quite painful.

These NBA superstars are probably used to pain and inflicting pain on court, but I don’t think they’d want to go through that when having their tattoos removed. Chances are, they’ll want some wrecking balm, a painless and inexpensive way of successfully removing tattoos within a couple of weeks. Check out the link to find out more.

Missing Time

Nope, I wasn't kidnapped by aliens, although I sometimes wish that were the case so I could easily explain away the fact that it's been quite sometime since this blog got updated. I didn't go on vacation either, although I wish that were the case so my mind would be pregnant with dozens of fresh writing ideas. And I didn't get sick, although that would have been the most convenient but at the same time most physically inconvenient excuse of all for not having written anything here in weeks.

The truth is, the only excuse I have for not having updated this blog for a long time is that I've been busy. Not only at work, but also at home. I'd rather not go into the gory details, but this blog had to take the backseat so I could focus all my energies on my life's affairs.

Now that all of them have been straightened out, expect the Couch Camote to get on with this blog's life, much like the way he has gotten on with his.