Okay, so yes, I’m an admirer of Lady Gaga and Beyoncé. There is a very large part of my being that wishes that I, too, could make that much money shaking my ass and belting cheesy pop – all while wearing a metallic animal print leotard. And basically sharing my glitter-dusted lady parts with the world.
But, sadly, my legs aren’t long enough. And I can’t sing for shit. But whatever.
Anywho, not everything dreamed up by the fabulous transvestite that is Lady Gaga can rock my world. Apparently. Because did anybody watch the “Telephone” video?! It seems everyone did, and according to Twitter they loved it. I think I may have missed something.
Now, okay, I keep reading these comments like “That was so original!” and “This is going to be the next Thriller!” (yes, those are real comments) but did anybody notice that Gaga and Honey B basically had a huge sequined orgy, and in the heat of the sparkly, hot, fabulous climax they FORGOT WHAT THEIR SONG WAS ABOUT??
So to the dummy who thinks “Telephone” is the next “Thriller”, well, at least Michael Jackson wrote a song about something evil lurking in the dark before he danced like a zombie. Gaga and Beyoncé wrote a song about dancing in a club and getting a bunch of annoying phone calls, but they threw all that mundane shit to the wind so they could wear bikinis in prison, burn their eyes with cigarette-covered glasses, make sandwiches, mass murder a bunch of unfortunate diners, and ride around in a bright yellow truck with “Pussy Wagon” painted across the back. Sorry, what?!
(If you haven’t watched this 9 minute and 31 second travesty, stop reading. Go directly to YouTube.)
See, here’s my problem. Yeah, the video is original – so fucking original it doesn’t make any goddamn sense, yo! I mean, I could be original too. Especially if someone gave me a multi-million dollar budget and told me that I didn’t have to relate my cinematic masterpiece back to the song it was suppose to be accompanying. Man, if it were me, I’d dress a bunch of miniature ponies up in waffle-suits, cover them in purple sequins, and let midgets simulate sex in pools of Aunt Jemima Butter Rich Syrup around them (despite the high probability that they’d be sucked down into the sticky mess and drown) while I did the Irish jig on a rotating platform in the center while wearing only a live python. BUT THAT’S WHY NO ONE WILL GIVE ME MILLIONS OF DOLLARS AND A FILM CREW.
Another thing. Beyoncé cannot act to save an orphanage chalk-full of starving, big-eyed, adorable unloved children. I mean, god she’s hot. And she can sing like crazy. But the second “You’ve been a very, very bad girl, Gaga” came out of that perfect mouth of hers, I nearly spontaneously hemorrhaged and died a bloody death. Oh, Beyoncé. Couldn’t they have taken some of the money from all that product placement (Polaroid, Virgin Mobile, Wonderbread, Diet Coke, Miracle Whip- did I miss any?) and hired you an acting coach? No? Maybe they could have hired an Oscar-nominated actress of some sorts to stand in for you. That would have given this short film some cred. And it might have eased my cringing.
And how original is this shit storm anyway? As I recall, Gaga already poisoned her lover in the video for “Paparazzi” – and wait, did Beyoncé just put on those freaky frames Gaga wore to poison her lover? Are these bitches already referencing their previous works? Okay, no, I’m sorry – you chicas are so not there yet.
I mean, it wasn’t all bad. I chuckled a bit when Lady Gaga was forcefully stripped by some dikey police chicks, who muttered “I told you she didn’t have a dick” – just as Gaga threw her mostly bare (albeit censored) vag up against the bars for all us doubters to see. Clever.
But really, this overly funded tribute to sandwich making (did I forget to mention that part?) and sequined unitards is a giant hot mess. I was wowed by “Bad Romance” – but then again, “Bad Romance” didn’t reference any specific situations for her to muck up. Gaga could be as freaking crazy as she wanted, because no one has any pre-conceived notions about what “I want your leather studded kiss in the sand” looks like. I mean, what the fuck is a “leather studded kiss”?! It sounds painful!
So, here’s my (not very expert) advice: Next time, you bitches need to write a song about mayonnaise, murder, and diva prison if you’re going to pull shenanigans like these. I have no idea what the fuck that song would sound like, but it might be awesome. Or I might just not know what I’m talking about.
“Telephone” should have been a sexy space age club video. Maybe they could have thrown some murdering and cigarette sunglasses in. But mostly a club/dance video.
Lady Gaga, next time, just hire me. I’m good people – plus I could use some cash. I’ll even wear a leotard.
I still love you, you freak bitch.