I don’t want to say much about this video. Anything I say will ruin the experience. This comes from Philippines Got Talent. All I will say is: What the hell is happening in the Philippines when this gets called amazing?



It’s 9pm on a Saturday night, and since I am apparently incapable of sticking to a deadline, that must obviously mean this is another edition of the 3FING3RS classic Fresh Look Friday. I have just finished a screening of the 1999 teen “comedy” She’s All That, starring Freddie Prinze Jr and Rachael Leigh Cook, and you guys? This movie blows. Like, not even in the good way that Twilight blows, but in the way that it would blow if someone came into your house, cut out your tongue, and then made you swallow it whole. The late 90s and early 2000s birthed a great deal of these types of movies in what I guess was meant to be some sort of resurrection of the high school comedy genre that dominated the 1980s; except unfortunately, where 1987 had John Hughes and Molly Ringwald, 1999 has Freddie Prinze Jr and….wait, who directed this noise? I’m not even going to look it up, because I don’t want to attach a name to the embarrassment.

Now I won’t lie, I have a soft spot in my heart for these types of romantic teenage comedies of the black hole that was 1999. Never Been Kissed is quite likable, 10 Things I Hate About You was a fantastic example of how to cater to a young audience without dumbing yourself down, and even Drive Me Crazy was surprisingly fresh (as in tomatoes, not as in Prince of Bel Air). What I truly hate about She’s All That is how dated it is now. Something that contributes to my enjoyment of a movie, no matter how cliche, is how it adapts itself to that particular cliche of its time period, and how it translates a year, 10 years, or 50 years later. She’s All That is a re-imagining of My Fair Lady, which is a re-imagining of Pygmalion, and that story keeps on getting told because it’s universal. It’s something that anyone, in any place, from any time can relate to, and when given something so easily translatable, I should think that’s it not hard to NOT fuck it up. The scent of desperation in this movie is thick and goopy, like a mixture of molasses and the stank of my feet after a day at work, and I became more and more uncomfortable with every scene.

Here is the famous dance scene from the movie, and the scene that best encompasses everything that was wrong with 1999:


Okay okay okay. It is now 11:13 on a Sunday morning. I wrote all that last night whilst still in the throes of a 40 of Miller High Life, and perhaps I was a bit harsh. Yes, She’s All That is totally terrible, but if you were 13 in 1999, watching it again in 2010 is strangely enjoyable just because it makes you realize how totally lame you must have been in 8th grade. I mean, I remember actually saying things like “whatevs” and wearing belly chains and listening to Sixpence None the Richer and thinking I was awesome because of it. How I feel about movies that cater too much to their time period in order to seem cool absolutely still stands, but if you are at the age where you remember actually having a crush on Paul Walker or wearing Airwalk sneakers, then give this movie a Fresh Look. Just make sure to do it with a bottle of Jack Daniels to numb the pain.

Tonight’s Viral Vision comes to you courtesy of the letter K, as in the KKK. Without them, this little gem of a video would not have been possible, since they are working so hard to keep the dream of the “race war” alive, god bless their shriveled black hearts. This is a sketch from one of my favorite comedy groups The Whitest Kids U Know, and honestly I don’t think I’ve ever laughed harder than the first time I watched it a few years ago. In it, a dude shows up at his friend’s apartment swinging around a baseball bat, and like a little kid asking his friend to come out and play Cops and Robbers, begs him to come down so they can start the race war they’ve always talked about. My favorite part is when he doesn’t realize that Italians are considered Caucasian, and when his friend tells him they’re the same race he just looks up and says, “but I’m an American!”

Enjoy it, kids, and look out for a belated Fresh Look Friday tomorrow afternoon!

Happy Friday, lovahs. Tonight’s Viral Vision will go up as planned, however it seems as though this week’s Fresh Look Friday may actually turn into Fresh Look Saturday. My wazoo has been busybones all week long and I didn’t catch a chance to watch anything good (or not so good). It’s raining somethin’ awful right now, which means it’s prime veg out time, so I’ll see what I can get watched and written up tonight!

So, there’s a new video from Jim Henson Studios that’s been making the rounds today. It’s pretty cute, but mostly silly. In it, a monster dressed as a bunny sings “Stand By Me” while eating cute little bunnies. It’s pretty bizarre, but reminded me of a Muppet clip I vividly remember from when I was a kid. So much so, that it sent me on a YouTube hunt for proof of its existence because whenever I talk about it, most people don’t remember it. As luck would have it, I found it. The Internet is amazing.

The video is from the original Muppet Show and is a bit where woodland creatures sing Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth”. If you don’t know the song by the title, it’s the one with the chorus: “Stop, hey, what’s that sound? Everybody look what’s going down.” The cute possum and deer are hiding from a trio of clueless hunters. Watching it now, as a relatively well-adjusted adult, it seems rather innocuous. There’s an injection of humor that I didn’t remember. As a kid, this segment really upset me.

It probably didn’t help matters that my dad and uncle took me dove hunting with them when I was in the third grade. When I was younger, my dad, uncles, and grandpa went dove hunting all the time. I wanted so badly to go on a trip with them, but I was always too young. But, then, finally, my day came. I was so excited, mostly because I think I got to miss school and also because I didn’t really understand what hunting actually entailed.

We got out there and it was mostly boring, a lot of sitting around. When my dad asked if I wanted to shoot the gun, I freaked out and wouldn’t do it. But that wasn’t even the worst. For those of you who’ve never been hunting, you might not be aware, but rarely does the animal die immediately from your shot. As I kid, I was ignorant to this as well. There’s a pretty gruesome process that takes place in which you have to finish the job.

I remember my dad had hit a bird and ordered me after it. You have to be quick in finding it. Not really sure why, maybe so some other scavenger doesn’t happen upon your kill. Anyway, he told me to go after it and, if it wasn’t dead, to put it out of its misery. I was a bit taken aback, but just hoped the bird would be dead and I wouldn’t have to do anything. So, I scampered off with my walkie-talkie. When I found the poor thing, it was definitely not dead. I walkied my dad and our conversation went something like this:

Me: Dad, it’s not dead. It’s not dead!

Dad: Well, kill it.

Me: How?

Dad: Pick it up and twist its neck. Or find a rock and hit it in the head.

Now, here I pause for a moment, to let the magnitude of the situation sink in. I look down at the poor bird, flapping on the ground. I look at my hands, in terror. I look at the walkie, praying my dad could somehow see my frightened eyes through it.

Me: No.

And with that, I burst in to tears and ran away from the bird and back to the truck, where I’m pretty sure I stayed the rest of the day. My dad didn’t go on many hunting trips after that, but of the ones he did, I certainly wasn’t invited along.

Anyway, watch the video. I’m gonna go eat a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and find my happy place.

Friends, you may have noticed that our regular Gossip Girl recap was MIA yesterday. And you’ll notice tomorrow that Modern Family’s is missing too. Same for 30 Rock on Friday. There’s a reason for this.

In this past premiere month, we’ve presented you with a lot of content, much of which was really a trial period for Jordin and I. It was an opportunity for us to see what would work and what wouldn’t. The reception that you’ve shown us in this first month has been more than we could have even imagined and for that, we are truly grateful.

However, you will begin to notice some changes. Our unique features, like Remember Me? and Fresh Look Friday, will remain intact, while we’re working on some ideas that will bring even more unique content to the site. We’ll start presenting these ideas next week, beginning with the TV portion of the blog.

For the remainder of this week, look forward to the daily Viral Vision and Jordin’s Fresh Look Friday. And we’ll see you next week with some really exciting new stuff!

Also, if you’re liking what you see, be sure to tell your friends about us and follow us on Twitter: @3FING3RS!

So it’s my Spring Break and all, and while other, normal 23 year old girls are in Cabo doing tequila body shots and taking their clothes off for random strangers, I am stuck in San Francisco on my 6th straight day of work.  (Though, to be fair, I DID spend last night crying into a beer and watching Rebel Without a Cause, and then fell asleep at 10pm, so….clearly I’m a party animal.) Being that I am currently locked in a hotel lobby waiting patiently for people to come in and bitch at me for making it rain on their vacation, I cannot properly view any videos since there’s no sound on these computers. WHAT DO I DO?! Choose a random video on YouTube and cross my fingers that it’s funny? That would be irresponsible. How about post a clip from an episode of Frasier and completely solidify my fate of being a middle aged divorcee stuck in the body of a 20-something college student? Obviously, this is the right answer.

Oh, what a harrowing experience to be a nine year old girl! As a 23 year old woman in the world today, I have to worry about rent, bills, grades, and not getting accidently knocked up by my imaginary boyfriend. But friends, all of that is nothing compared to the death and doom of being nine. Fascist bedtimes, daily forced feedings of vegetables, cooties running rampant; it was a war-zone. Amid all of the chaos, however, there was one beacon of light. One delicate, beauteous creature whose very existence made elementary aged girls sing for joy. I think you know who I mean. We know him by many names: Scott Wormer, Junior Floyd, Casper the Friendly Ghost who turns into Casper the Friendly Pre-Pubescent Boy. Yes friends, today’s Remember Me? here on 3FING3RS features none other than Devon Sawa.

Devon Edward Sawa was born in 1978 in Vancouver. A Canadian! I dated a Canadian once (well, not so much “dated” as “made out with in a hammock in Zanzibar” and let me tell you: they’re good people. He started out on a Canadian kid’s show called KidZone, which I know nothing about. I’m relatively certain I don’t care enough to look it up, so I’m just going to pretend it’s basically the Canadian version of Kid’s Incorporated, which was basically the greatest television show to ever be produced. In 1994 he was cast alongside Rick Moranis and Ed O’Neill in Little Giants. In case you guys were wondering, my dad took me to see Little Giants after I made him come pick me up from a birthday party because after cake and ice cream, everyone started watching The X- Files and I didn’t go for that noise. At the time, I was just getting over a very traumatizing recurring nightmare involving a giant, rabid horse gobbling up my family in the middle of the night and spitting their brains out into the hallway, so that supernatural shit just wasn’t my thing. Also, I was 8. What kind of 8 year old watches The X-Files? That noise was scary.

AT ANY RATE, in Little Giants he played Junior Floyd, the Pee-Wee football prodigy who the two feuding teams each wanted to have play for them. He was also the love interest for the little girl who loved to play football but thought in order to get Junior to like her that she would have to stop being such a big fat lez and start wearing blush and join the cheerleading squad. Because obviously if a boy doesn’t like you for who you are, it is your responsibility to change yourself into whatever he wants you to be. I JEST. In the end, Junior ends up telling her that he likes her just the way she is and she goes back to playing football. Shared interests! It was because of this fantastic and ever so unexpected twist in the script that made me, 8 year old Jordin Heath, begin my love affair with Devon Sawa.

After Little Giants Devon went on to be featured in the live action version of Casper. He only had like, 4 minutes of screen time, but you had better believe that I made my parents take me to see that movie 5 times. He then starred in Now and Then, a coming of age movie set in the 70s where Christina Ricci grows up to be Rosie O’Donnell. SAD.

Here for your viewing pleasure is a clip of Devon’s scene in Casper. To get the full effect, go back in time and watch this as an eight year old girl:

After he grew up a bit, Devon went on to star in more “adult” films (not the good kind) like Final Destination and Idle Hands. As it would turn out though, Monsieur Sawa is what we in the biz like to call a “not very good actor” and while he has been working fairly steadily, it’s mostly in movies with titles like Extreme Ops (which would be better if it were called X-TREME OPS because people love capital letters) and Blood Angel.

Devon’s personal life in the last few years has been rather shady. In March of 2005 he was arrested for drunk driving (or, if you are from England, “drink driving” which sounds silly) and then two months later he was arrested again for stealing a car. You would think he’d save up his salary from Little Giants for a down-payment on a Corolla or something, but apparently not. In November of that same year he was arrested for evading arrest, stemming from a parole violation, and then sadly in July of 2006 he got thrown in the slammer for domestic violence and possession of marijuana. So apparently, Casper the Friendly Ghost is a lady beating, car lifting, hop head. It’s a good thing he and I never got together, because my sensibilities are way too delicate for that noise.

So there you have it! Another gem from the past re-discovered. Since Billy’s Remember Me? from last month preceded the outing of Ricky Martin, perhaps Devon Sawa will soon be thrust into the limelight once more. Here’s hoping it’s for something positive, and not because he’s on trial for felony murder.

This video has been making the rounds for a little while now. It is supposed to some elementary school performance of a watered-down Scarface. It’s sort of cute, but mostly weird. Part of me can’t help but feel like this is some hoax and there isn’t really a school somewhere that allowed this.

But! If there was a school, what sort of parent would sit through this and not laugh the entire time? If you actually had to stones to be okay with your child performing in a stage version of Brian De Palma’s drug opus, wouldn’t you also automatically have the sense of humor to laugh along with it? That audience is suspiciously quiet.

So, watch and let me know: hoax or not?

Also, one requirement for my liking your music: I must want to sleep with you.

So, I need to get something cleared up. Contrary to what this post, and my music library, may make you believe, I absolutely loathe American Idol. I stopped watching the rating-juggernaut years ago. I grew disheartened by the ridicule and cruelty shown to the delusional auditioning contestants in the show’s early weeks. (And, anticipating your argument, yes, I realize the most delusional need to be told they have no chance. But it doesn’t have to be done in a way that makes the person a complete joke. If the show was really striving to celebrate artistry, they wouldn’t make this such a focus.) And, on the same token, I grew irritated with the shlock-fest the show would become in the finalist portion of the competition. Every batch of contestants was always the BEST GROUP EVER, even when they weren’t, by a long shot. Look, I went to a performing arts school where I worked alongside a group of talent that could out-sing about 85% of the contestants to grace the Idol stage, I know of what I speak. While I don’t watch, I’ve encountered footage of some of this season’s “singers” and they could be described, at best, as “turgid”.

This isn’t to say the show hasn’t produced some successful, and sometimes even miraculously great, artists: Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, Adam Lambert, Kris Allen, Jordin Sparks, this week’s focus Blake Lewis; and, hey, I even loved a few of Katherine McPhee’s singles. I owe the show that much credit. I just wish it existed somewhere else, where it didn’t suck ratings and money from scripted programming that people actually pour their artistic lives into creating. That’s all.

(And, yes, I totally realize I’m in a minority in this opinion. The ratings prove that to me every week. People gobble this shit up, while shows like Better Off Ted, Dollhouse, and Chuck are routinely ignored. People also believe the shit that Sarah Palin has to say. I understand little of how the world works.)

But, like I said, some people come out of the behemoth and do some great stuff. Blake Lewis is one of them. He was the runner-up in the sixth season of the show, losing to Jordin Sparks. I actually watched most of this season because I was dating my rat-turd ex at the time and he was an Idoloonie. I remember not liking Blake much during the competition. His ridiculous beat-boxing made me uncomfortable.

He lost and I figured I’d never think of him again. That is, until I stumbled upon his gem of a single “How Many Words”. It was slinky, electro-pop candy and I gobbled it up. It was featured on his first CD Audio Day Dream, which came and went with little fanfare. I didn’t like the whole album much, but this song stuck in my craw. I couldn’t get enough.

I didn’t think I’d hear much more from Blake again, after reports of Arista dumping him from the label after the album failed. But Tommy Boy Records saved the day and Blake released his second, and far-superior, album, Heartbreak on Vinyl, through them in October of last year. The album is like “How Many Words” x100, with some extra funk thrown in. If you like your music to be sexy, sugary, weird, and electric, look no further. The whole album is one big, unpretentious dance party waiting to happen.

No, this isn’t indie-hipster cool kid’s music, but it’s simply good. Next week, I’ll tell you all about some weird Scandinavian girl group who shriek and play pickle jars and how they’re the second coming of Christ, in effort to regain my cred. But, for now, just have fun.

Below I’ve attached “How Many Words” and my favorite track off the second album, “Left My Baby For You.” Enjoy.