Bonnie Raitt - “Something To Talk About”

  Okay, folks, this another one of those videos where there’s no real story line, just images of people doing things while Bonnie strokes her instrument. So we’ll have to do the time-stamp thing.

0:01  Somebody’s wet head is getting caressed while he is apparently in a swimming pool or a really big bathtub.

0:05  Short photographer guy is taking pictures of something.

0:11  Very happy couple is frolicking on the beach, with one person riding on the shoulders of the other, and lots of hand-waving as the sun sets.

0:14  Older couple dancing somewhere. They both seem very invested in retaining what little hair they have left on their heads. And they both seem to be in pain of some kind.

0:17  Strange woman with sunglasses and a balloon hat does something possibly sexual with her tongue.

0:24  Bonnie finally appears. She seems to be playing a gig where they used Granny Mae’s shower curtain as a backdrop. And Bonnie is sporting the requisite torn jeans to show that she’s hip and earthy, and doesn’t mind sudden gusts of wind in places that you normally wouldn’t expect such.

0:29  Old couple still dancing. Well, maybe. They don’t seem to be moving at this point.

0:35  Another couple standing near a tree, with the woman so excited to be wearing odd thigh-high boots that she wraps them around her partner’s waist. He certainly doesn’t seem to mind.

0:39  Strange Balloon Hat woman is still very happy.

0:41  Carly Simon on a good day?

0:42  Old couple again, with the woman allowing the man to touch her in a non-1950’s way. She shows her appreciation by pointing her leg to the ceiling.

0:52  Some woman trying to smoke a ballpoint pen. While wearing a hat made out of a leftover piece of a Prince costume, circa the “Paisley Park” period.

0:54  Van Halen?

1:02  Snoop Dogg?

1:04  Somebody’s hand fondling a hairy chest. So far, this is the most exciting part of the video for me. Call me shallow.

1:11  Belinda Carlisle on the beach, after she escaped from The Go-Go’s.

1:20  Old couple again.

1:24  Tammy Wynette on a really bad day. Dancing with someone who left some of his teeth on the bathroom sink.

1:34  Breasty woman is tossed into a swimming pool.

1:36  Wait, did they parole Charles Manson?

1:49  Woman flips hair with amazing agility.

2:01  Is that Joey Ramone playing drums? Did I miss a memo?

2:11  Is Bonnie wearing a garter belt as a bra?

2:18  Limber Girl with thigh-high boots straddles her partner’s waist once again. Doesn’t she have any other skill?

2:21  Old couple again.

2:31  Tight shot of a trollop’s crotch. I guess they were trying to hit all the demographics here.

2:38  Carlos Santana?

2:42  Woman in ugly-print dress is twirled about.

2:54  Dancing woman proves that green is not necessarily a flattering dress color.

3:03  Thigh-High Boot Woman is apparently having sex in a position that no one has ever tried before.

3:11  Tammy Wynette, still having that bad day.

3:15  Who are these people?

3:16  Gratuitous soft-porn shot of free-spirited girl excited by the rising tide.

3:19  Poorly-raised child exhibiting signs of neediness and eventual incarceration.

3:23  There’s that Balloon Hat Chick again, still overly-thrilled about life in general.

3:32  Old couple again. Fade to black. Residents of Shady Pines Retirement Facility return to their lock-up cells and are refused nightly pudding cup for having run amuck after too much fiber in the evening meal…


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Keyshia Cole, Nicki Minaj - “I Ain’t Thru”

  We start off flying over the downtown of some city, while Keyshia is already wailing away about something that’s troubling her. (Quick glimpse of Nicki Minaj, because if that girl is going to be in your video, she fully expects some major screen time.) Cut to Keyshia strutting around on top of a skyscraper. (At least I think it’s her. There’s a tremendous amount of hair and hair product fighting for the camera’s attention.)

  Keyshia waves her hips in just the right manner to cause a fancy car to start driving around on the streets below. It’s a nice car from the looks of it, but I don’t know cars, so it could be anything. We also seem to be having an issue with fog blowing across the set. This might be intentional, but it might be the result of some assistant not bothering to check the weather channel.

  Oh look, now we have shots of some trampy girl with an attitude prancing down a street. I’m not sure who it is, it might be Keyshia, minus all the rooftop hair, but I’m not sure. Whoever she is, she might be a little warm, because she rips off her couture dead-animal coat and tosses it to the side so some homeless person can think he found Jesus. Then Coatless Girl starts busting some moves to show how hawt she be.

  Meanwhile, Keyshia is doing a dance routine in what might be a club or just the “Young and Hip” department at Macy’s, and that fancy car is still driving the streets, searching for some Fly Girls to hop inside and get the party started. I guess the car will have to wait a bit, because Rooftop Keyshia, Unknown Street Walker, and Dance Club Keyshia are still busy finishing up dance steps that somebody got paid to teach them. (Interestingly enough, all this choreography seems to center around the ability to thrust your pelvis whilst looking around to see who is watching you thrust your pelvis.)

  Okay, back to the fancy car, with Keyshia now driving and one of Nicki’s personalities in the passenger seat. Oh wait, now they’re in the dance club, with Keyshia battling to dominate the scene while yet another Nicki personality is doing something to highlight her amazingly straight hair. Quick shot of Unknown Street Walker having some type of issue with her hair on that skanky street she’s walking down because she didn’t pay attention to when Keyshia was picking her up in the fancy car.

  Okay, now Nicki is rapping in the Dance Club, wearing an outfit that can only be described as “RuPaul ain’t ever gonna wear that, sister, so why you frontin’?” (Seriously, what’s up with the window valance as a mini-skirt?) Nicki isn’t bothered a bit, doing her creepy Animatronic Girl routine where she does robot moves and widens her eyes like she just got an enema when she least expected it.

  Back to the car, where Keyshia and Nicki are possibly rapping but might just be suffering really bad gas bubbles from those questionable tacos from “Shorty’s Fold and Stuff”. (To be fair, Keyshia is only adding a few vocal “uh huh’s” to the mess, so this is really Nicki in 4th gear with no emergency brake.) Nicki sure likes saying words like “duck” and “roof”. This probably means something. But not to me.

  Now the fancy car is barreling through a tunnel, which inspires Keyshia and Nicki to flash the Peace Sign. (Okay, I know that gesture is supposed to mean “deuce” in the modern world, but really, it originally meant “peace”. And I like that a lot better than promoting a playing card.) Back to the roof, with Keyshia tromping around in that black raincoat and doing high-kicks while menacing fog billows about and threatens to suck her into a John Carpenter movie.

  Now we’re in the dance club, where we learn that Belvedere vodka can act like a Roman candle if you just let it breathe. Keyshia and Nicki think this is a really plush development, so they wiggle around on the lounge seats and act slightly horny about the fireworks shooting out of the liquor bottle. In fact, they are so inspired by the sight of something spewing that they take to the dance floor, and strike some killer moves that accentuate all of their couture accessories.

  Additionally, this Tribute to the Belvedere Spewing includes some business with needing “elbow room” and the freedom to possibly pursue girl-on-girl touching while the beat pulsates. That’s some really high-quality vodka. Everybody in the club seems to understand the importance of the right to bare arms, and whatever other body parts need emancipation, and there’s a rousing display of unbridled lust and patriotism.

  Now we start jump-cutting around, with Rooftop Keyshia trying to do the diva thing on top of the building, hands out-stretched to indicate that she really believes in her vocals, Streetwalker Whoever kicking it into high gear as she and her spandex flail about like she just got her tax refund, Dance Club Keyshia making it very clear that there is no parking on HER dance floor, and Nicki trying to remember which personality she is supposed to be at this particular moment. I’m going to guess it’s the one who would straddle something that isn’t really hers but pretends like it is.

  And that’s pretty much how we end the video. Everybody’s having a really great time doing pointless things that wouldn’t be so exciting if Mt. Saint Belvedere hadn’t erupted just when it did. Keyshia loves her red jacket and the fact that she has a belly button, Streetwalker couldn’t be more pleased with the opportunity to sashay through the trashy streets of Manhattan, and Nicki has figured out at least 20 new robotic moves that should ensure she gets to guest rap on at least 10 more hit singles…


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Ashton Shepherd - “Look It Up”

  We start off with Ashton hammering a sign into the ground reading “Yard Sale, Everything Must Go!”. Based on the violence she is channeling into that hammer, she done fed up with somethin’. Folks behind her at the sale are dashing about in that nosey way where they might pretend to be interested in your Lobo 8-Track, but they really want to get the dirt on what up with the sudden clearance sale.

  Cue some guy arriving in his pickup, a bit confused about the goings on. (A subtitle informs us “All HIS stuff must go!” Ah. Got it.) While customers paw things like deer heads and fishing lures, the guy in the truck honks his horn. Of course, that puny little noise doesn’t stop anybody from doing whatever, so he hops out to do some damage control. He looks to be about 5-foot-5. Good luck with that.

  He runs up to Ashton as she is happily throwing more of his crap in another box, and when he tries to get all huffy, she hurls his phone at him, which is open to some slut texting that she misses and loves him. Ashton then launches into the vocals of her revenge tune, using a now-desecrated wedding album as a handy prop. Let’s just say that Truck Boy does not benefit from the modifications to the album.

  Then Ashton drags Truck over to some geeky guy with Internet access, and he’s found images of Slut Girl driving around in Truck’s truck, her hooters barely able to stay inside the truck. (It’s probably the gun rack taking up all the room. The truck’s rack, not hers.) Then we get a gander at a dictionary where Truck’s picture accompanies the definition of “liar”. (Wow, do you think Ashton is just a little bit miffed.)

  Ashton now takes a break from the confronting to go sit on a keg in the garage, sporting a pretty dress and singing some more of the song. (Seriously? A keg in the garage? There wasn’t a nice tree she could lean against while butterflies whiz past?) Ashton likes to wave her hands around quite a bit, probably to make it extra special clear that her former man is a pig.

  Cut to Pig Man dashing around the yard and trying to snatch back his belongings. Well, that doesn’t sit well with Ashton, so she puts her flannel shirt back on and a for-sale sign on Pig’s truck. (Oh, and look at that, she finds a bottle of whisky on the front seat, which she promptly hurls at Pig. He glances at the bottle and discovers that he is now on the label for the hooch. I guess word travels fast. Somebody had a yard sale and the whole liquor industry has to re-brand.)

  More of Ashton straddling that keg and waving her hands. (She has a really fun way of saying “pig”, in case you like to track such things.) The keg-ride is interspersed with Flannel Ashton selling off more of Truck’s junk, and quite happy to do so. Truck’s truck, boat, and ego go bye-bye in just a few seconds. Then Ashton relaxes in a chair while shoppers and/or family members wave signs along the lines of “Go, Goodbye, Get Lost, Get Out, Get Gone” in a nice synchronized movement that you might see the drill-team perform at a high-school football game, assuming that you weren’t under the bleachers sucking face with bad boys while seated asses were lined up over your heavy-breathing head, missing the whole half-time show and possibly your next period.

  Back to the garage, where Glamour Ashton is destroying more of Truck’s trophies using one of his golf clubs. Once she’s done with the decapitations, she breaks the golf club over her knee and then hurls it off toward a shelf of motor oil or something. But she’s not bitter.

  Back at the yard sale, Truck grabs a Bible in a last-ditch effort, maybe hoping that Jesus can cancel all the credit card transactions. Ashton is not impressed. Jesus might forgive or hold up credit lines, but she sure don’t. Back on the keg, Glamour Ashton is feeling quite liberated. To top off her new-found freedom, she decides to burn Truck’s letter jacket in a handy barbecue grill that just happens to be sitting beside her. She has quite a good time with the impromptu cookout, even muttering the word “asshole” with a grin a mile wide.

  We finish up with Truck still trying to get his things back out at the yard sale, but these people done paid and they ain’t playin, no, sir. Even his dog, wearing a “Sold!” sign, is being dragged away by an older woman that looks like she knows how to make a mean batch of biscuits and gravy. Truck finally collapses to the ground, throwing down his ball cap in frustration.

  Moral of the story? Don’t mess with Ashton. She will NOT put up with your crap. And she’ll get a hit single out of it, making you look like even more of a truck pig. Word.


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