TV Junkie, Uncategorized

Show Me Your Treasures, Gypsy…Wait, I Didn’t Mean Those Treasures

"Love, you forgot the front of your dress. Here, we'll distract them with the sequin hearts on ours."

TLC’s new show, “My Big, Fat Gypsy Wedding” is breathtaking (as in, “your baby is breathtaking”). The other night I insisted my husband record the first two episodes, mostly because I didn’t know what a modern-day gypsy was, but also because they had British and Irish accents.

Last night, for the better part of each hour-long show, I sat there shaking my head with my mouth agape, unable to make sense of things. It was such a mish-mash of cultures that my head was spinning. If you take 1 part hippie, 1 part traveling circus and 1 part Catholicism, you might have something resembling a modern-day gypsy.

The show hones in on the young gypsy girls, whose lives revolve around two major milestones: at age 8, communion, and around age 16, marriage. They look forward to these two events the way I dream of retiring at 30, and their willingness -fervent desire, even- to wear dresses that are twice their size and weight for these occasions is seemingly sincere. A favorite gypsy dress designer (who referred to the gypsies as “travelers”) had the most inside scoop, and described the lifestyle with a mixture of skepticism and guarded fascination. The girls design their dream dresses from the time they can walk, she says, each one wanting the biggest.

I will never forget the image of an 8-year-old gypsy girl waddling into church for her communion, suffocating under 70 pounds of tulle, while ‘regular’ girls in simple white cotton dresses gawk and giggle. More memorable is the after-party, where young gypsy children dress in what can only be described as hoochie wear, dance provocatively, and use moves they say they learned from Beyonce.

After seeing that picture, you might be surprised to hear that single gypsy girls aren’t permitted to wander around alone, or if they do, risk being seen as unsavory. Sex before marriage is also off-limits, so the outfits the tweens and teens wear is all the more baffling.

Female gypsies describe the mating ritual as ‘grabbing,’ where the boys pull the girls and ask for a kiss. If the girls refuse, the boys twist their arms, literally, until they oblige. If the immaturity of this practice doesn’t prove that they’re not yet ready for marriage, watching a 16-year-old giggle through the entirety of her vows certainly will.

Married girls are expected to leave their families for the first time, to live in a mobile home with their husbands. The men go out and make the money while the girls gladly stay behind to cook and clean. The families help each other out, they say, and try to keep off the radar, something which is becoming increasingly difficult as they’re forced to take permanent homes which the government then later tears down, a sad reality with far too little explanation. (When asked why they were bulldozing his home, a young gypsy boy responded simply, “They don’t like gypsies.”)

Looks like I’ll have to keep watching.

Guilty Flavor of the Week, Music, TV Junkie, Uncategorized

GOGP’s Guilty Flavor(s) of the Week(s): Cram Session Edition!

Teeny tiny guilty pleasure nubbins, it’s been a while -too long, I know, I hear your desperate cries- since I’ve posted, so I thought: what better way to make it up to you than to share some of the MANY guilty pleasures I’ve indulged in since last week (like how Blaine L-O-V-E-S Kurt! HELLO! Totally watched that scene 5 10 times, what about you??)!?!

And it’s all happening RIGHT NOW!

It is so much better than finally painting the living room ceiling to cover up where your husband fell

Your American Idol, Scotty McCreery

through [from the attic] almost 1 year ago (and you wonder where I’ve been)!

It is massively sweeter than ordering Mexican food and trying to eat it all with 1 teaspoon of sour cream and ZERO guacamole!!

And, you might never forgive me for this, but it is without a doubt phat-er than watching Alfred E. Neuman become the next American Idol!!!

This week’s Guilty Flavor of the Week goes to…

Keebler Fudge Shoppe Cheesecake Middles!

"Do NOT buy these!"

Actually, I really AM kidding about this. I wish I wasn’t –you know how I love those elves– but these are DISGUSTING. It was too good to be true, I suppose.

This week’s REAL Guilty Flavor(s) of the Week(s) goes to:

You be the judge!!!

1.) How about this Colbert Report credit roll? Look at the Gaffer name!

I can’t remember exactly what a Gaffer is, but I’m fairly certain it doesn’t warrant a name regal enough to…well, do anything but gaff things.

2.) Or maybe this episode of HGTV’s Income Property?

Does anyone else see something wrong with this rental apartment bathroom art?? But at least it answers the age-old question, how do aliens get off?

 3.) I see. You need something more. Well, okay. Here you go: Robert Pattinson SINGING!

I promised you some of this so long ago, and now look, even Perez Hilton’s uncovered the awesomeness (click here for the article)!

P.S. – if that’s still not enough R-Patz for you, hunker down for this hilariously revealing Ellen interview:


This One’s A Real Gas

Photo courtesy of:

I should be talking about how I finally saw “Water for Elephants” this weekend, and thoroughly enjoyed it, but the real guilty pleasure in that was the overstuffed, leather, reclining seats at one of AMC’s new dine-in theaters, which are starting to overtake the Garden State.  Sure, you need a bib since you can’t sit up straight or see what you’re eating,  but that might be just as well after you’ve snuck in a ‘water’ bottle or two.

But I have so many other things to tell you about. Like what happened yesterday.

I normally make a habit of avoiding eye contact when I go to the gas station (yes, in New Jersey we are still not trusted to pump our own gas), but ever since they swindled me into paying for premium a couple of weeks ago, I now look the attendants squarely in the gourd and wait for them to confirm my, “Fill it regular, please.”

Yesterday, after I said that, the middle-aged, hairy attendant simply took my credit card and replied in a thick accent, “Too much clothes” before walking away.

My knee-jerk reaction was to leap out of the car Jersey Shore-style, snapping my fingers in the air and screaming, “Excuse me? Oh no you didn’t!!” while I pulled out his beard extensions. At nearly $4 a gallon, was I also now paying an even bigger price? Was I now selling my dignity at the neighborhood pump?

A couple of seconds later, however, I saw the blinding humor in it and sat there laughing and singing along to my Warblers CD. I mean, you had to give it to the guy. He clearly wasn’t playing games. If he were a serial killer, it would have been a straightforward, “Too much breathing,” before he turned my skin into a kilt.

The ironic thing is that I’m starting to feel guilty for thinking this is funny. What do you think? Vote now!

Guilty Flavor of the Week, TV Junkie, Uncategorized

GOGP’s Guilty Flavor of the Week – Week 5!!

This week’s GOGP Flavor of the Week is not even going to mess around. Except to say that:

It’s way awesomer than those restroom hand dryers that are so strong they blow your skin around your knuckles in a super-creepy way!

It is unbelievably keener than when your dog gives your knee a lick of thanks every time you give him food or water!!

And, this is going to be hard to imagine, but I promise you that it is mind-frenchingly cooler than when you found out the only difference between your DNA and chimpanzees’ is a mere 2%!!!

THIS week’s Guilty Flavor of the Week honor goes to…

Glee’s little Dancing Queen! Go Kurt!

I’m totally not kidding! This week’s Glee prom episode was amazing!

The REAL Guilty Flavor of the Week award is also bestowed upon the ever-glorious Glee’s prom episode:

For using the word MERKIN! It is so not just for family Scategories anymore!!

P.S. – You’re welcome for the stellar ‘documentary-style’ footage.

Guilty Flavor of the Week, Lists, Uncategorized

A NOTE-worthy Guilty Pleasure

There’s nothing better than a guilty pleasure born of what shouldn’t be funny, but in fact soooo is! I have 3 notes to share with you, and the best part is they’re all real. As in, I’ve seen them with my own two beady little eyes just this past week!

#1 – Dangerous Mind

My husband has been helping out a new fellow teacher at work, whose taste in memo pads makes a little piece of him die inside. Last week, he left her an ‘inspirational’ note, quoting one of her many memo pads. Just to see if she would notice. She didn’t. She now operates under the very false assumption that my husband is a dream-weaver, and, well, I really can’t think of anything better.

#2 – The Backed-Up Boy Who Lived

Spotted this weekend outside of our local Wal-Mart, there’s no way this can be considered vandalism.

#3 – Neighborly Love Hate

A dear (the dearest) friend of mine often receives notes like this from her neighbor, which is something to consider if you’re thinking about moving into a gated community. This note is one of many from Unit 12 and will be filed with the rest – under Trashy Fiction.

Booze, Guilty Flavor of the Week, TV Junkie, Uncategorized

GOGP’s Guilty Flavor of the Week – Week 4!!!

Oh my, guilty pleasure pumpkins, you want MORE this week? Kate and William put on a magnificent hat show, I mean, got married, and we slayed bin Laden and threw his corpse into the ocean! Well okay, I know, like me, you’ll never be satisfied, so here we go…

GOGP‘s Guilty Flavor of the Week is coming to you RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND!

It’s like the time you got Famous Amos cookies from the vending machine at work and TWO packages fell out!!

It’s so much awesomer than the moment you realized you were old enough to start swearing without getting in trouble!!!

And it’s so, so much better than winning the lottery, blowing it all on fast cars and gambling while extended family members crawl out of the woodwork asking why you don’t love them enough to pay off their debt!!!!

This week’s Guilty Flavor of the Week award goes to…

HOARDING the best Easter basket filler ever:

…just kidding (not really at all).

This week’s REAL Guilty Flavor of the Week honor goes to…

The Daily Show’s May 2nd Moment of Zen! Wrong but oh-so-right, like any true guilty pleasure:

OR CLICK HERE:—we-just-killed-bin-laden

Music, Uncategorized

How to Succeed in Theater-Going by Really, Really Trying

I try. I really, really try to get into theater. But unless you’re naked, John Leguizamo or The Little Mermaid, I’m just not interested. For the first ten minutes I always think, “This is amazing.” About halfway through the first act, though, I find myself day-dreaming about “Scrubs” and Swedish fish, neither of which I actually like. Despite my penchant for shows about glee clubs, I stand with the large majority who feel it’s completely unnatural to break out in song at the deli or in math class.

Some people are really into it. They see every Broadway show there is, and must be of very tiny stature and unlimited means in order to truly enjoy this.

I’m not one of those people, in any way.

Nevertheless, I was thrilled to receive tickets to Daniel Radcliffe‘s new play for my birthday, “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.” Hirschfeld Theater isn’t very big, so from the second row of the balcony I had no trouble enjoying a decidedly clothed Radcliffe (side note: I was able to convince my husband that Radcliffe shows his toosh in this one).

I wasn’t familiar with the play, but could appreciate the gross generalizations of a company too large for its own good, producing a product (wickets?) that no one really understands. I don’t want to spoil anything for you, but the play is about how to succeed in business without really trying. 

If you haven’t seen the commercials, turns out Radcliffe can do more than just strip down – he can really shake that money maker! And sing! He had one of the strongest voices in the cast, and though this time he was dwarfed by John Larroquette instead of man-beasts, it was only in physical size, not talent. He received a full standing ovation and the loudest cheers, though to my great disappointment, no one shouted, “You’re a wizard, Harry!” as I’d heard happened in a previous matinée performance.

I’m very glad I saw the play, but my theater-mate, Babs, and I both agreed it was no “Equus.” We have bruises on our knees from the seats in front of us, and Babs got food poisoning, but I remembered to pack flip-flops this time, for the inevitable 14-block race back to Penn Station to catch the train home (we made it). I’m learning.