Dido - “White Flag”

We start out with Dido apparently finishing up a concert at some vague nightclub, waving farewell to the crowd in that totally-fake “we’ll be best friends forever!” way. Cut to Dido sprawled across a bed in a track suit, then she sits up and starts crooning the song, the camera lovingly caressing her face despite an odd pink accent light that makes her look like a Care Bear.

Then she’s marching down a basement hallway, apparently headed to another stage while music people clutter around her and talk on cell phones. She’s still singing, but I suddenly pay no attention because right at 0:26, David Boreanaz walks by, going the other way.

David Boreanaz. As in Angel, the guy who tormented Buffy all those years, and then moved to another town so he could torment Cordelia in that really groovy hotel. I have no idea why he’s in this video, but it instantly has my complete attention. (And Dido instantly becomes my favorite singer EVER for making this happen.)

Anyway, we have more footage of Dido looking depressed in what might be a hospital waiting room, and then sitting on the bed with the horrible accent lighting. She gets up off the bed long enough to snatch a framed photo from a shelf, but we can’t quite see it. When she flops back on the bed, we can see other framed photos behind her. Are those of David? Too blurry to tell. Hmm.

Random shots of David sitting and standing in places that require him to wear a hat and glance at us seductively, while Dido flops around on that bed and continues to do nothing important with her life. Or change clothes.

Oh wait, my bad, she just put on a new blouse, and this inspires her to walk through a revolving door and go outside. On the street, she signs an autograph for some guy who is either a fan or is trying to raise money to get himself a better haircut. At the same time, David is nearby, scribbling his name out for one of his own fans. When Dido glances over to where David is standing, he’s no longer there. Oh? But…

Next up, Dido and David pull up in separate cars at an intersection. Dido and her hair pretend not to notice David and his cell phone, and he does the same, both of them looking away from each other just before getting caught. It’s kind of sweet, but loses a bit of its cuteness because we’re distracted with wondering why Dido would put that ugly headband on her head.

A bit later, D and D run into each other in a bar, where they continue to pretend that they aren’t invested in getting together, fiddling with their drinks and awkwardly squirming. Dido suddenly marches off, leaving David standing there, looking all sad and hurt. She should have to die for this.

Now we’re at some event or opening that requires Dido and David to give separate, glamorous interviews to gossipy reporters. The two continue to glance the other way and pretend that the other isn’t even there. Look, this is starting to get a little old. Do they want each other or not? Are we on the playground at school?

Then we have Dido again, wearing that track-suit thing so I guess she’s used up her wardrobe budget for this shoot. She’s wandering back to her apartment, lugging a sack of groceries that she manages to drop while walking past David in the hallway of the floor where they both apparently live. He keeps walking and doesn’t even bother to stop and help her pick up the baguettes scattered all over the floor. (Symbolism, much?) Is he over her?

Well, she’s not over him, apparently. She gets back on that boring bed that we now hate, and we see that, yep, all those framed photos are of David, all over the place. Poor thing. Then the camera pans next door to David’s, and he has even more pictures of her, completely covering one wall. As we zoom in, we see that his collection is a little chilling, with psychopathic rantings and such scrawled on the prints.

Okay, then. Dido done got her a Sunnyvale Stalker. Honey, if that’s too much to handle, just give David my number. I’ll take him off your hands…


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Sugar Ray - “When It’s Over”

We start out with the band members hanging out in a fake bachelor pad, trying to figure out how they should do the video for this song. (That’s not a very good sign, considering we’re already watching it.) Of course, first they have to harmonize for a little bit, so these guys obviously get distracted quite easily. Then we focus on one of the band members as he daydreams about what HE would do with the video.

Well, his vision is all about the band being filmed in washed-out black and white while they flit around in front of a full-color background. This is initially boring, even with Mark McGrath proving that he still looks hot even when all the color has been drained from his body. Things pick up a little bit when a parade of lovelies wearing tiny bits of clothing come marching in with video cameras, taking shots that require them to sprawl about lustily on the floor.

Then the dreaming band member leaps up from his drums and starts shoving the other members around and kicking down the walls of the set. No explanation is given, so we’ll assume that the drummer has severe personal issues that need to be worked out. Just not right now. It’s all fairly stupid, so luckily for us they switch to one of the guitar player’s fantasies about the perfect video shoot.

This involves the band bouncing around in what might be a punk bar, with Mark contributing to the theme by going shirtless. It’s all about leather jackets, necklaces made out of chains, probable drug use, and people with those super-spiked hairdos that look like porcupines on acid. (Never, ever understood that whole trend.)

Of course, they also do the requisite mosh pit thing, with the guitar player landing exactly in the midst of sex-drenched women wearing bras and panties. These apparently very strong women then carry the guitar player over their heads while he has multiple orgasms. We end this bit with Mark confirming to us that he has an amazing number of tattoos. (One of them looks like a map of the Paris subway system, but I may be mistaken.)

Next up is a band member who envisions a gangsta take on things, with the band decked out in pimp-ghetto gear, complete with that modified Aunt Jemima doo-rag thing going on. They’re in a stripper bar somewhere, with the band member throwing cash around like he’s run out of places to keep it all. Then we spend an inordinate amount of time watching the stripper girls prove that they apparently don’t have any bones in their body, whirling around the poles with contortionistic glee.

This goes on forever. I guess Sugar Ray had a T&A clause in their contract regarding the amount of time that must be spent on airborne breasts and crotches.

Eventually we’ve had ample to time to study every last stripper snapper in the entire place, and we move on to another band member’s fantasy. This guy apparently wants nothing more than to put on an ugly, skin-tight yellow outfit and then try to street-fight a man about twice his size. This makes no sense. Even the rest of the band members, wearing unexplained matching Asian couture, seem bored out of their skulls, simply waiting for the next dream to start. (Mark tries to liven things up by doing something with an apple, but it’s too little, too late.)

Speaking of Mark, his fantasy involves the band doing a Duran Duran tribute, complete with eye makeup and aggressive hair. It’s all mid-80’s craziness, including tucked-in ties, self-important poses, and cryptic hand gestures that are really only cool if you’re stoned. It’s really kind of funny in a “wow, people sure were messed up back then” kind of way.

Suddenly Mark stops all the shenanigans. “Dude, let’s just do what’s right for the song.”

So now we’re watching mixed shots of the band members riding Vespas (how is THAT right for the song?) and the band frolicking on the beach with hundreds of their closest friends. It’s one big party as people do all of those things you do when you’ve had too many adult beverages and you’re not wearing any shoes. Bouncing, high-fiving, breast-jiggling, alcohol-impaired thong adjustments and complete strangers doing The Bump with total abandon. It’s all there.

The song ends with the band members driving those very-masculine Vespas into the sunset. Here’s hoping that none of them ever dream again…


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Train - “Marry Me”

We start out with mini-interviews with various happily-coupled people, as they sit on a couch and chatter about how they met and what life has been like since then. It’s very sweet and touching. Unless you’re currently not in a relationship. Then it’s a wee bit irritating, especially when they won’t quite smiling. And they’re all straight. Where are the Rainbow People? Isn’t this band from San Francisco? Anyway…

We get to the video proper, and we’re in a diner somewhere. We get atmospheric shots of coffee brewing and orders on the wheel for the short-order cook. Then we hop over to the band performing on a subdued set with no accessories or props. And these are our two story lines. People ordering greasy things they shouldn’t eat and acoustic musicians apparently on a budget. And go.

Pat starts singing the song (which really is beautiful, not taking away from that) while a waitress is tidying up the counter after heathen diners have left a mess. She also has to deal with a coffee cup that some fool has apparently thrown on the floor as they left, having been raised in a barn or at least a house where crockery is not respected. She’s only dabbing daintily at the spilled coffee instead of quickly wiping the whole mess up, so she’s got some focus issues.

Then we spy Pat sitting in one of the booths and wearing an odd hat, pretending to read a paper but really watching Blondie as she screws around with the spilled caffeine. This allows us to get a close-up shot of Blondie, and of course she’s stunning in a wholesome sunshine way. She glances up at Pat, he smiles, she smiles, and you know that they instantly want each other more than anything in the entire world. Except possibly cheaper unlimited rates on their calling plans.

But, dang it, they can’t consummate their passion just yet. It seems that some other patron’s damn pancakes are ready, and Blondie (let’s call her Rebecca, as in the one with the farm, shall we?) has to scurry off because the now-hated cook is banging on his stupid little bell. Rebecca sighs, Pat sighs, and we cut back to the plain studio where Pat is singing while that Howie Mandel look-alike plays guitar beside him.

Diner again, with Rebecca doling out plates of food to a happy couple in another booth. (Side note: Some of the folks from the intro are playing couples in the diner as well. Awww.) She smiles at them brightly, pretending to care, then she glances over at Pat’s booth, to see how her future husband is doing.

And he’s gone. How sad. Rebecca crumbles emotionally, then turns to wander off somewhere and be devastated.

Back to the studio, where Pat and Howie look tragically stricken over the harsh severing of the budding relationship.

Diner once more, with Becky trying really hard to keep herself together as she waits on other people ordering pointless food in a world that is dark and unsatisfying, with lovers being ripped apart in cruel and painful ways. She pours coffee and snatches up tips, but her heart is broken forever, and the nunnery may be her only option.

The various couples in the booths don’t care if Rebecca has been crushed by the gods. They’re hungry and they want the blue plate special. That’s all that’s important. The couples clasp hands and smile at one another. A lot. Which only sends daggers of pain into Becky’s trembling, stomped-upon heart. These couples should not be surprised if a bit of arsenic mysteriously makes its way into their Denver omelets.

More studio time with Pat and friends. (Just curious. What happened to Pat’s waist? It’s a straight line from ear to foot. Hate him a little bit.)

At the diner, Rebecca apparently can’t concentrate on slinging hash, so she rips off her cute little waitress apron and throws it down, then marches out of the diner. Once outside, she glances hither and yon for any sign of Pat, her AWOL lover. Sadly, her yearning eyes find no purchase, and the dawn is bleak. (Yes, I just went Shakespeare on your ass. It felt right.) Becky, fighting tears, heads back inside.

Where she decides to just sit at one of the booths and sigh discontentedly. She stares at her cup of coffee and tries to process the fact that her life must surely be over because the man she knew for fifteen whole minutes is now gone from her life, and there’s no point in going on. Then her saddened eyes glance over at the sacred booth where Pat’s butt was planted before he destroyed her emotionally. She spies his funky hat on one of the seats, apparently tossed aside just like she has been. Oh?

She rushes to fondle the one remaining symbol of her errant lover, touching the brim with a yearning that far surpasses any other yearning ever felt on this planet. Lo and behold, altar-dumping Pat comes back in to the diner right at that moment. Their eyes meet, smiles are exchanged, and the video fades.

There’s still hope, folks. You can meet the man of your dreams while serving biscuits and gravy. Just make sure he understands that you want him desperately before you leave the check at his table…


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Flo Rida - “Right Round”

We start out with images of someone possibly being electrocuted as they stand on a giant Oreo cookie. (Well, I guess that’s one diet that might actually work. You get near a snack, you get zapped.) Then the lights go up a bit and we can see that Flo Rida is actually standing on a giant turntable that slowly spins him right round as he sings. Got it. We have a concept album here.

We get some pretty, digitized images on a giant screen behind Flo (the planet, nature scenes, somebody’s butt) as he warbles, then some girl comes marching in, singing the female part of the song that I guess I didn’t notice was even there until she showed up with her attitude. She joins Flo Rida on the turntable, and then immediately assumes a dominant stance and glares at us. We’ve only known her for five seconds and I’m already done with her.

Flo Rida launches into his rap, with the images still flashing behind him and Attitude Girl whipping her hair around like all of this was really her idea. Flo Rida does his best to just ignore her, but she’s all up in his grill with her flapping arms, grabbing at her face like she just found out she’s got crabs again. (Somebody needs to put that turntable on 78rpm and catapult her ass off the set.)

This goes on for quite some time, with only the pretty pictures in the background changing. Finally, Flo Rida changes to a red shirt, which magically causes Attitude Girl to disappear for a while. (I hope he never takes that shirt off.) We get a very brief shot of what might be an orgy taking place on the turntable. It’s gone before I can raise my hand and ask any questions.

Aw, hell, it’s the female part of the song again, and her comes Miss Fancy Pants once more. She hasn’t settled down a bit, doing something with her head that would make Linda Blair proud. To make it worse, she’s also appearing on the screen behind the spinning couple, and I start fearing for my life. This song has totally changed for me at this point.

Another quick shot of the orgy.

So we go like this for a while, with Rida riding the record, and Happiness Crusher Girl jetting in and out every time she thinks of another angry dance move to do. Then a new girl appears, with really long hair and less-threatening choreography, but then she disappears and Angry Annie is back. (She is NOT gonna let some second-rate tramp steal the spotlight!) Then other girls appear, briefly, only to be scared off by Whirling Wanda and her Arms of Death.

We start some mess with Flo and the various girls jacking around with a smart phone, taking pictures of things we really can’t see, so I’m not sure what the point might be with that angle. (A double-shot of the orgy surfaces during this bit, probably to keep our attention in case we aren’t interested in watching other people text.) Then the female part of the song comes back, and I leave the room to get another beer while Cranky Crotch returns to the Oreo and starts wailing and flailing. Over her.

When I return, we’re seeing jump shots of various goings on, most of them involving Flo Rida and unknown people dancing and waving beverages in the air. (And, of course, everyone is really pretty, which is SO not reality, so these must be really special nightclubs and random parking lots.) I’m mostly intrigued with the sequences involving people strutting around in front of designer cars. Everyone in those shots looks very happy and non-threatened. Can we watch the rest of that video?

Nope, we head back to the cookie. Flo Rida rapping. Queen Bee killing her drones. Orgy.

Oh wait, Flo Rida just took off his shirt while on the cookie, and that totally changes everything. But only for two seconds. Then we’re back to Fully-Dressed Flo, with Succubus Sally banging her crotch against him while doing a backbend. She’s very limber, that Sally. But still angry.

And that’s pretty much how we wrap things up. Various women trying and failing to knock Nasty Nancy out of the ring. Flo Rida patiently putting up with all of them because he’s completely used to women fighting for the chance to stand near him. And tantalizing, too-short shots of that damn orgy mess on the spinning record.

Final shot is of Flo Rida clutching Harridan Hannah to his side, raising his other fist triumphantly. I guess she won after all. Bitch. But I'm not bitter...


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Miranda Lambert - “White Liar”

We start out at a cute little outdoor wedding ceremony at a cute little church in a cute little town, with folks in the audience craning their necks, either waiting for the bride to make her debut or looking for the guy that sells hot dogs. We get a glimpse of what looks like the groom and his Best Man, and they’re both smirking, so we already know something’s up. Especially since the one guy is wearing a yellow tie.

Next we have the teeny flower girl and the tiny ring bearer, toddling up the aisle like little kids do, not really understanding why they are here and looking confused about things like air, sunshine and walking in a straight line. Cut to Miranda somewhere else, sporting earrings longer than most people’s feet, and a jacked-up hairdo, making her look really, really tall. (Does she think she’s the Tower of London?)

Miranda launches into the song, and we can tell that she’s really pissed about something because she’s already singing with an attitude and her eye makeup is really intense. Cut back to the wedding, where Miranda as the bride is tromping up the aisle with her really young-looking daddy. (They get started early in the South, yes?) She’s all smiles right now, beaming at the assembled crowd, but judging by the way she’s clenching her bouquet she is ready to CUT somebody.

Close shots of Miranda’s smoldering eyes zeroing in on her hubby to be. He either gulps or experiences a really severe gas bubble.

Then Miranda scans the rest of the folks, and we start getting more of the story in flashbacks. First we focus on one hussy wearing a polka dot dress, trying for that Julia Roberts/Pretty Woman look and getting nowhere near. Seems the groom has been playing slap and tickle with this little chippie. That’s really swell of him. (And her. Two to tango, right?)

Miranda continues sashaying up the aisle, glancing about. (An aisle that is only about 10-feet long, so they must be walking really, really slow. Maybe it’s the heat. Or the grits.) Fake Julia Roberts apparently figures out that Miranda knows what’s been happening in her panties, so Fake Julia plops down in a nearby folding chair and gets all pouty. We don’t feel sorry for her at all. (Maybe if she had worn a cuter outfit?)

Then Miranda spies a redheaded woman with a plastic smile. Yep, the groom has been playing cowboys and Indians with her as well, fondling cue sticks in a pool hall and rubbing all over each other as Missy straddles the pool table and pretends to make tricky shots. Miranda gives Missy a withering glance so she can get all pouty as well.

Well, hell, there’s another tramp, this one a blonde who got schnockered one night with the groom and we see them stumbling down a street, staggering toward presumable random and sweaty sex. (In the midst of this, for whatever reason, we get a really good look at the preacher man waiting for Miranda. He looks like he could have performed with the Grateful Dead. What’s up with that?)

Back to Blondie and the groom cheerfully consummating their naughtiness, then once more to Miranda, finally nearing the rest of the wedding party at the altar. But nope, we’re not done with the cheatin’ and the hateful glances just yet. Miranda now focuses on her Maid of Honor, who is wearing far too much makeup and not enough hair product. She’s shared more than just a rehearsal dinner with the groom, getting a big ole helping of his meat and potatoes.

Does this guy ever sleep? Geez.

Miranda turns to face the groom, all aglow, and then spills the tea. Turns out Miranda has been playing squat tag on the side as well, and she runs into the arms of the Best Man. They smooch, apparently picking up right where they left off the last time they met. Shots of the crowd reaction, with some of them giggling and the rest just staring blankly. (Are they ALL feeling guilty? Just who in the audience hasn’t been toasted by the groom?)

And it gets even better. As Miranda and Best Man waltz back down the aisle, the startling preacher man hands his Bible to the groom, then snatches up the Maid of Honor, slurping on her hand before the two of them dash down the aisle as well, letting the world know that Maid’s offering plate has been filled by a lot of patrons. The groom turns and goes into the church. (What? He’s going to lead the congregation now? That’s rich.) The final shot is of Miranda smirking at the camera, she and her earrings all triumphant.

This totally changes the definition of “sleepy little town”, don’t you think?


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Cee Lo Green - “Forget You”

Note: This is the explicit version. I used the radio-friendly alternate title for the song since more people actually know it by that name. But really, the graphic language is what makes this video so funny…

We start out in front of a 50’s-style diner with a trio of female backup singers standing out front, wearing matching green dresses and performing synchronized hand movements that you normally only see in a swimming competition. Then they start grinning and sashaying toward the entrance to the diner, enticing us with sexy come-hither gestures, which is really impressive considering they can barely move in their skin-tight outfits.

Cut to the interior, where little Cee Lo has arrived with his parents, and he starts belting out the song. Momma is clearly not impressed with his choice of lyrics, but everybody else in the diner is bopping and shimmying to the music, smiles everywhere. The camera focuses on one jubilant little girl, waving her hands to the beat. Then words flash across the screen that she’s “The Heartbreaker”. Uh oh. Wait. She’s only 10 years old. How bad can she be?

Well, we soon learn, but first we have to watch the backup singers do more hand-choreography while their asses are plunked on the diner counter. Little Cee Lo is studying Little Heartbreaker from across the room. She seems to be receptive to his glances, so he hops up and does a cute little routine with the backup dancers where he explains that he can’t afford fancy cars but he has tons of love to share.

Little Heartbreaker, upon learning the financial details, decides that she wants nothing to do with poor dancing boys and shoves her nose in the air, then turns her attention to another little boy who has the dough for some serious wheels. As the superficial lovebirds flounce out of the diner, Cee Lo and the color-coordinated backup girls flip them off musically.

Interlude with present-day Cee Lo singing to all the haters about what they can physically do to themselves.

Cut to “The High School Years”, with teenage Cee Lo now working at the diner, and apparently given full license to burst into song whenever he wants. Of course, everybody in the diner is having the best time of their lives listening to him, swaying to the beat and grinning from ear to ear. Oh look, there’s Little Miss Heartbreaker at one of the tables, all growed up with a fetching over-sized bow in her hair.

Teenage Cee Lo snatches up a handy bouquet of flowers that just happened to be lying in the order-up window, and he races to present them to Little Miss, apparently forgetting that she only likes boys who can afford their toys. First, though, Cee Lo has to dance his way down the counter, which turns out to be a bad move, because some little geeky boy with morality issues sneakily knocks over a basket of fries, right in the path of strutting and harmonizing Cee Lo.

Well, Cee Lo goes down and the flowers go up, landing in the lap of a nerdy little girl who instantly misconstrues intentions and she races to paw lovingly on her new boyfriend, Cee Lo. He is less than impressed with this development.

Another interlude with present-day Cee Lo, as he sings adult language and adds aggressive hand gestures to his delivery.

Now it’s “The College Years”, with Cee Lo still in that diner and wearing a horrid plaid jacket. It seems that he might be tutoring another young lady, but we’re quickly distracted by the backup girls insisting on performing another routine along that counter, this one involving the waving of money and the wearing of headbands.

Despite the fact that his companion is quite lovely, Cee Lo is still focused on The Heartbreaker, who is also in the diner. (Do these people never go anywhere else?) He motions over a waitress, and instructs her to deliver a hotdog to Heartbreak, complete with a heart on the plate, squirted out of a ketchup dispenser. (Really? THAT’S going to win her over? Maybe Ice Girl made the right decision back in the day.)

Anyway, all logic is tossed to the wind, and compliant waitress delivers the goods to Heartbreaker. She is less than enthused, snatching up her basket of french fries, marching over to Cee Lo, and plopping the whole mess on his pretty white shirt, ketchup everywhere. Then she haughtily marches back into the No-Cee-Lo Zone surrounding her table.

Cee Lo proceeds to have something of a breakdown, one that involves him hollering “WHY” repeatedly while he twirls around as various cartoon images fill the screen. (I know, I don’t get what that part was all about.) But apparently the twirling helped Cee Lo come to his senses, as we now cut to years later, and a title card appears announcing that Cee Lo is now “The Lady Killer”. Based on the imagery, we’ll have to assume that medication was involved in some way.

Fancy Duds Cee-Lo pulls up in front of a snazzy nightclub, in a fancy car that comes equipped with those backup singers in the rear seat. (They are still doing coordinated hand waves whilst wearing matching, fluffy outfits, so at least some things remain steady in life.) We see that Mean-Ass Heartbreaker Girl has been reduced to a custodial occupation, mopping the dance floor and looking tragically forlorn. (We won’t get into why she’s mopping while people are still dancing, it’s a minor detail, just go with it.)

We wind things down with Cee Lo belting out the last bit of the song to Karma-Is-A-Bitch Heartbreaker Girl, then he and the Synchronized Sisters motor out of the parking lot. They’re probably headed back to the diner. Because nobody ever seems to really leave that place…


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Rihanna - “California King Bed”

We start off with Rihanna lying on the ground somewhere, sporting another one of those outfits that looks like sleepwear but is probably something she would wear to church. There’s a gentle breeze blowing and the sound of a nearby ocean, and all this nature causes Rihanna to start touching her head in a loving manner, caressing her vibrantly-colored locks in a very intimate way.

Cut to some gauzy curtains billowing in the wind, probably symbolizing that we don’t have much of a plot yet, then more of Rihanna writhing seductively on her back, some shots of trees, Rihanna, curtains, trees and finally our first partial shot of that bed that hopefully Rihanna will eventually get around to singing about if she would just quit rolling in the dirt and get her ass off the ground.

I guess she heard me, because now we have Rihanna standing somewhere, with her and her hair looking sultry. But she must still be a little tired, since we cut to Rihanna in an interesting chair where she keeps touching herself (girl is really proud of the merchandise, just sayin’) and doing something odd with her leg.

While we wait for Rihanna to pay attention to us instead of herself, we get a full view of that bed. Holy cow that thing is wide. You could comfortably fit the entire Brady Bunch in that thing, including Alice, Sam the Butcher, and that annoying cousin Oliver that nobody really liked. I think I am in love with that bed, and I can certainly understand why someone would want to write a song about it.

On cue, the music starts, and after Rihanna fiddles with the curtains for a bit, we find her in bed with what we’ll assume is today’s physical love interest. While Rihanna eyeballs the very-appealing pecs and plays with his nipples like she’s making taffy, she begins warbling the song. Then we cut to Standing-Up Rihanna, as she poses in front of a nice bank of clouds and does yoga or some such.

As Rihanna really starts grooving to the song, we start getting jump cuts of Rihanna all over the place. It’s not really clear what she’s doing in some of these shots, because those damn curtains keep getting in the way. Then we’re back to the bed, with Rihanna and Beau snuggling on one tiny corner of it, which seems like a waste. Maybe they rent out the rest of the bed to other couples?

Whoops, now Rihanna is magically floating to the other side of the bed, symbolizing the emotional rift that has developed in their relationship (even though they probably only met a few hours ago). Rihanna, looking tragically forlorn, gets off her side of the bed and starts wandering around, while Beau just sits on his side. (Why is everybody in this video so tired?)

At this point, Rihanna starts making love to parts of her house, singing and touching things seductively, like door frames, windows, and thousands more of those curtains that are hanging everywhere. (Was there a really good sale on window treatments somewhere that we need to know about?) Right about 2:08, one of the curtains appears to have a small orgasm while swaddling Rihanna’s turrets. How nice.

Beau is still just sitting there on the bed. He’s pretty boring. No wonder the relationship grew stale over the course of the morning.

Rihanna revisits that one chair where she likes to thrust her knee in the air while doing deep-tissue massage on her scalp and shoulders. She sings for a bit, then glances over at Beau, possibly wondering if they can make it work after all. But he hasn’t moved at all, so it doesn‘t look very promising. To be fair, he may be confused about which curtain leads to the bathroom.

Frustrated with Beau’s lack of concern or movement, Rihanna heads out a patio door onto a fancy deck. This causes all the color to drain out of the video, and we now we’re in black and white. No explanation is given, but we’re just here for the beer, so whatever. Rihanna sashays up to a wall, which she leans against while doing some very fine acting, which includes making sad expressions, waving her arms about in disappointment, and, of course, touching her hair.

I think it’s fairly clear at this point that Rihanna really, really enjoys her hair. They tight.

Oh wait, the color just came back into the video, so I guess we’re done with the emo and serious part. Rihanna goes back to making love to various architectural pieces of her house, then she wanders over to a stand of trees with leaves the exact color as her hair. (I bet that cost a fortune.) Rihanna waves her arms some more and wiggles about in her underwear. (This should not come as a surprise to anyone who has seen her other videos.)

Meanwhile, Beau is off somewhere else, possibly in a sauna or shower, a room that must have special powers because the sweat and/or water that should be rolling down his body is instead rolling up. I have no idea what this means. But if he really does sweat the wrong way, I don’t see how the relationship can work. Proper plumbing is critical if you want to stay together.

Rihanna is very tired again, so we see her back on the ground in that little grassy area. She and her hair flop around some more while the song starts winding down, with arms flailing and auburn tresses whipping about like a Harvest Festival weed-eater. (For the record, Beau is still sweating the wrong way, but we’re over that by now.) Rihanna and her panties seem quite content, though, despite the pain of the impending breakup, so we shouldn’t feel too sorry for her.

Oh, look, now Rihanna is back on her feet, snuggling once again with Beau and his tattoo. Are they getting back together? Can they work it out? Does either of them own actual clothing? Rihanna isn’t saying. She just gives us another sultry look and then disappears behind one of the 400 billowing curtains…


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Steven Tyler - “(It) Feels So Good”

Okay, folks, this one is just a series of images, no real plot, so we’ll have to do the timestamp thing. Which is a little sad, because I really like making up a twisted tale to go with the video. But trust me, there is NO story. Word. But it IS fun. Here we go…

0:01 - Steven and his tongue make their debut with a trademark wail.

0:02 - A monkey is reading a script in a makeup trailer. Seriously.

0:04 - Steven and an anorexic supermodel play patty-cake at dusk, probably somewhere near an outdoor establishment that serves adult beverages.

0:07 - A body-builder with an odd appreciation for full-frontal makeup joins the monkey. The monkey is not impressed.

0:11 - An unnamed woman peruses the remains of Darth Vader.

0:17 - Another unnamed woman (It’s a Steven Tyler video, there are going to be hundreds of nameless women running about and tossing off clothing) shoves her finger up Steven’s nose. He is not appreciative of this cavity search and stomps away, but not so fast that he can’t ogle various women draped here and there.

0:28 - Enterprising young woman uses her breasts as a flower vase. Steven plucks her.

0:32 - Steven impersonates Willy Wonka, complete with hat and general disregard for reality.

0:34 - Steven serves hors d’oeuvres to a thrill-seeking elephant while a belly dancer stands near a lamp made out of Kermit the Frog.

0:36 - Disgruntled monkey commandeers a golf cart and goes searching for people who actually understand him and his art.

0:41 - Steven is attacked by his own clothing.

0:44 - Steven gets violent with his microphone stand. Apparently there have been some issues with the stand hitting on potential squeeze-mates for Steven.

0:48 - More muscular men who enjoy body paint, tight-fitting underpants, drum major hats, and performing odd movements that don’t really relate to anything.

0:55 - Steven is able to identify the numbers “4” and “7”, and then makes a dramatic gesture that conveys his thoughts about world politics.

0:57 - First appearance of pretty girl who quickly becomes a major focus for the rest of the video. We’ll call her Gertrude, mainly because she would probably hate that name, and people who are pretty and skinny should have to suffer at least a little bit, yes?

1:00 - Gertrude acts precocious on an escalator. Already sick of Gertrude, and she’s only 3 seconds old.

1:01 - Shot of Gertrude’s fanny in cutoffs. (See what I mean?)

1:05 - Steven sings to a giant, vulture-like bird. They both have the same facial expression. Maybe they both studied at the same acting school?

1:11 - Gertrude doing some multi-screen crap with sunglasses.

1:18 - Gertrude bouncing on a hotel-room bed, because she has no respect for the hard work of unionized housekeeping staff, has focus issues, and likes to be airborne whenever possible.

1:22 - Steven is singing while standing very close to that snack-loving elephant. It would be rude of me to compare wrinkles, right? But he just HAD to go there and open that door…

1:25 - Unexpected shot of Gertrude fornicating with bed linens.

1:30 - First shots of Steven getting wacky in front of a black wall. A spotlight is involved. I really don’t understand anything beyond that.

1:33 - Gertrude rips off her top and throws it at us, causing Steven to channel William Hurt in Altered States in the next scene.

1:36 - Drag queen (possibly Steven, probably not) doing something overly-dramatic while wearing a fluffy coat and too much foundation.

1:44 - Gertrude on a beach, wearing little more than a tea bag and some dental floss.

1:46 - Steven sitting in a red leather chair, with odd objects arranged around him, and yet another girl sitting on the arm rest, wearing hooker boots and a brazen attitude. (See, Gertrude? Steven is always on the prowl. You ain’t all that, sistuh.)

1:51 - Steven apparently has some broccoli caught in his teeth, and takes corrective action while still singing into a very colorful microphone.

1:54 - More shots of Gertrude. Hoped we were done with her, but she’s not giving up easy, vying for attention by making out with a Sony camera and suggestively straddling the railing on a yacht. I wonder if it ever occurred to her that she could just have a nice, subdued conversation with someone to keep their interest, instead of banging furniture.

2:00 - Steven, obviously unsupervised and making alarming faces, provides incriminating evidence that the monkey we’ve been seeing just might be the byproduct of Steven having too many Mai Thai’s and then wondering into the primate exhibit at the zoo.

2:02 - Gertrude, determined to retain her status as Favorite Tramp, hops on a jet ski and races about the harbor, her strong legs firmly straddling the engine, with an assortment of lubricants sexily arranged in a nearby champagne bucket.

2:06 - Shot of Vibrating Woman, She Who Belly-Dances with Such Jackhammer Intensity that Entire Continents Might Submerge. She scares me.

2:10 - One of the muscle men decides to shoot an arrow at the sky. I’m thinking that’s not the greatest idea ever. Unless the falling arrow punctures Gertrude’s ego. In which case I’m totally on board.

2:13 - Nope, that Gertrude Slut is still motoring about the harbor. Damn it. And to rub it in, Gertrude flips around on the jet ski and starts hunching it while laughing and pointing at the blowhole on the back of the vehicle. Really not caring for Gertrude.

2:18 - Back to Steven and Hooker-Boot Girl in that red leather chair. Now all the objects around him are melting while he sings. I’m not sure what this means. Commentary on the world financial markets? Or proof that Nancy Reagan’s “Just Say No” campaign didn’t really stick when it comes to rock stars?

2:29 - Gertrude again, trying to pull off a Shirley Temple hairdo. The Good Ship Lollypop leaves the harbor in abject fear.

2:33 - Steven plays bongos on the leather-clad butt of Hooker-Boot Girl. Something tells me this is not the first time such a thing has happened.

2:41 - Steven dons swimmer goggles. Commentary on the plight of blue-collar workers denied heath insurance? Or planning to spelunk in Gertrude’s Cavern? You decide.

2:45 - Hooker-Boot Girl might have the upper hand, since Steven seems to be paying a lot of attention to her. Of course, it helps that she’s wearing just as much jewelry as Steven. And that she has bacon-flavored snacks tucked into her bra.

2:53 - Hooker-Boot Girl performs what looks like a victory dance. Or maybe she got her g-string caught in an electrical outlet.

2:58 - Asian girl with video camera. Really, Steven? Stereotypical, much? You couldn’t let the Asian girl be hot, prancing about wearing nothing but strategically-placed chopsticks? Diversity, my man. Diversity. Learn it, live it, love it.

3:02 - Gertrude is taking off her top, yet again, and preparing to race into the ocean. (Fingers crossed for a riptide, yes?)

3:09 - Hooker-Boot Girl is clapping rather excitedly. Oh? Does she know something that we don’t? Like maybe there’s a killer shark that bosom-bared Gertrude is about to encounter as she and her liberated hooters splash into the sea? (You GO, girl. Mmm hmm.)

3:11 - Quick glimpse of more muscular, tattooed guys. Really don’t know where Steven is going with this angle. I’ll take The Fifth.

3:15 - Odd shot of Steven looking very much like John Cougar Mellencamp. Things that make you go… I really need to get out of this house more.

3:17 - Steven still flirting with Hooker-Boot. This race ain’t over, people.

3:19 - Apparently Gertrude just brushed up against a jellyfish with her hoo-hoo, leaping out of the water with amazing velocity.

3:21 - Rapid-fire shots of the various Stevens finishing up the song.

3:24 - Steven does that rasping/hacking thing that ends the vocals. Having a hard time deciding which girl gets the official invite to come up and see him some time? Which girl will he choose? Will he remember in the morning who he chose? Will the girls remember? Have the girls ever even seen the sunrise? Have they ever worn an outfit that didn’t separate their butt cheeks?

3:25 - These questions, and many others, will be answered in the next episode of…Soap.


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Patty Smyth and Don Henley - “Sometimes Love Just Ain’t Enough”

We start off with the camera as it pans around, using a really strange lens to distort the objects that we’re looking at. Burned-down candles and tassels and some vaguely-Victorian knick-knacks lying about. (Are we in a 19th-century S & M bordello?) It’s all shot in black-and-white, and there are angels on some of the pieces, so we know right away that things are not good and somebody just might be dead. I’ve learned these things reading Anne Rice.

Eventually the weird camera-tracking business stops, letting our stomachs settle, and we have Patty leaning against a wall, really sad about the fact that she’s apparently lost her shoes. She appears to be in a really old house, but before we can get the full scoop we cut to a little girl (Little Patty?) back in the day, happily jumping into the arms of what might be her daddy. (Or maybe it’s a complete stranger and Little Patty is just a very naughty girl.) Then they just fade away. Got it. This is a ghost story.

Back to Big Patty, who has managed to teleport to a chair. (I guess she got tired of looking for her shoes and decided to rest.) Cut to a shot of Little Patty and Maybe Daddy in another room of the house. While blinding lightning flashes outside the house, Little Patty is very invested in not doing whatever Maybe Daddy is telling her to do, trying to get away from him. Then she suddenly changes her mind and hugs him. Little Patty just might be bipolar.

Then we have Little Patty and a young male companion (Little Donny?) playing blocks in another room with a church-like window so that God can keep tabs on their possible sins, followed by the duo playing dress-up, although Little Patty seems to be hogging the stage, and then Little Patty dancing with Maybe Daddy in yet another creepy room in this apparently abandoned house.

Well, I guess that was too much time spent on Little Patty, because the next time we see Big Patty she’s shoving her face at the camera, intent on getting her close-up. Once she has our attention, she starts singing while looking off to the side of the camera, as if she’s a shy, delicate flower, but we all know that’s a big lie. (We’re also getting jump shots of Little Patty and Diminutive Donny playing more dress-up, but we really don’t care by this point. So they liked to wear other people’s clothing. Who doesn’t from time to time?)

Okay, now we have Big Patty dancing with… Big Donny? Not clear. He’s making sure he looks away from the camera in that obvious way that politicians have when they are caught leaving a same-sex nightclub. Then Big Patty is back in that one chair, still shoeless, and warbling some more while we see Little Patty and Little Donny violently fighting over a dolly while more of that lightning explodes outside. (For the record, Little Donny wins, snatching the doll away and running off to play with it. Which might partially explain that same-sex nightclub business a few years later.)

Oh look, now we have Big Donny materializing in front of an open door. He starts singing, which is what many people do when they appear out of thin air, while we watch Big Patty try to cover her ears while sitting in Big Chair. Does Big Patty not want to hear the truth about Big Donny? This house appears to be in the South, so probably not. Lots of people down there are sweet on the surface, tell themselves lies, and drink a lot.

Big D and Big P do a nice little duet for a while, as we watch various images, like a couple eating apples on a bed, the young uns sharing a bath, and some more slow-dancing. (Hold up, the girl that's part of the flirty couple on the bed? She’s holding a copy of Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood. Great. So far we’ve had ghosts, violent storms, dismay and deceit between lovers, ugly furnishings, and people reading about killing entire families. This is just not a happy place.)

Next we have Big Donny and Big Patty singing next to one another while they both stare off-camera at possibly a human sacrifice that they have just performed. Cue Little Patty in yet another lightning-filled room watching Maybe Daddy fade into nothingness. Poor thing, now she’s got another notch in her psychosis case.

Then we have some drunk fool rudely breaking a bottle of whiskey on the floor, followed by a big-ass fight between a couple that might be the previously-flirting couple not agreeing on things like sobriety and fidelity. They eventually hug it out, but not before some very fun slapping and another lightshow from nature.

Sequence of shots of various people looking sad in or near that bed where the one chick studied-up on how to lower the population of Kansas. Of course, we can see a little angel statue sitting on a shelf on the back wall. (I told you that those things are a sign of death and destruction.) This bit ends with one of the guys falling into the bed and, you guessed it, disappearing. Maybe these people need to read up on how to stay on this plane of existence.

Oh good, another sequence, this one of several men walking out the back door, one at a time, and presumably out of Little Patty’s life. Or Big Patty’s. Or Peppermint Patty’s. It’s really not clear. People are leaving, that’s all I know. We wind down with another shot of Big Donny and Big Patty, with their heads touching in that one scene where they are gazing at something we can’t see, and then somebody pops that irritating lens on the camera and we roll back over all the evil knick-knacks that started this mess, the angels looking pretty but deadly as the video ends.

Well, then. Did it never occur to any of these people to just burn the damn house down and move somewhere with some sunshine? Guess not.


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Deep Blue Something - “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”

We start off with two butler guys dragging a fancy table down a busy street, then quickly cut to one of the band members strolling out of his hotel wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Interesting. To make things clearer, we see another band member riding a horse on the sidewalk of another busy street, a third band member glancing at his watch impatiently while he jaywalks and passersby act like they don’t see the camera, and finally we have the lead singer pretending to read a book on a street corner

I guess the book isn’t all that fascinating, because he decides to sing instead, which is a natural thing to do while surrounded by complete strangers carrying briefcases and attitudes. While he warbles, we get various shots of the rest of the band still heading to wherever they are going. So far, this hasn’t been the most suspense-filled video, and I briefly consider flossing my teeth, because you never know what you are going to find when you do THAT.

But I persevere, and my teeth remain possibly nasty as the guy in the bathrobe crosses an intersection (narrowly avoiding being rundown by a car, so at least there’s a small glimmer of excitement), the butlers still shoving that table along, the lead singer still holding that book even though we know he’s never going to actually read it, the guy with the watch now using his thumb to try and hitchhike (I’m thinking he just likes to hold his arm out for some twisted sexual reason), and about 4,000 New Yorkers wearing that expression they get when you dare to ask them where St. Patrick’s Cathedral might be.

Well, now, things are picking up as we find ourselves in a big field somewhere, with the band members having managed to locate their instruments, and they are all jumping about with manic glee as they perform the song for an audience of… well, nobody. (Why do some many video directors think these impromptu concert scenes are so riveting, having bands play in odd places like an abandoned gas station or a fertility clinic, with absolutely no one else around? And the bands act like they are having the best time ever, performing for no on. What exactly is the point? You couldn’t find a real stage?)

And we’re back in The City, as we see more butler guys rolling carts of fancy dinnerware along. (They look very pompous and I decide that I don’t like them, even if they haven’t said anything and come bearing food.) Oh, and the band has managed to find a flatbed truck, and they are wailing away on their instruments as the truck drives through the city canyons. (Gee, we’ve never seen THAT before either.)

Back to the lead singer lead singing by himself again, and we see the rest of the band members still working their way toward something that I’m probably not going to appreciate, if they ever get there. It just smells that way. (Why aren’t any authorities even TRYING to stop the one guy on a horse? Sure, it’s New York, where anything goes as long as you have a healthy credit line, but seriously. Who wants to see livestock on Fifth Avenue?)

Okay, this “hey, let’s drive around on a truck and sing!” storyline is dragging a bit, especially since that one guitar player is confused and thinks this is an AC/DC revival, whipping his head about and doing that thing where he bends over and stares at his feet because the fretwork action is so mind-blowing. Dude, you’re not allowed to be a head-banger when you sing adult contemporary pop. Geez.

Now we have the butlers setting up a nice dining table in front of Tiffany’s, with shiny platters and goblets and such, while pedestrians continue to stroll by nonchalantly as if people eat in the middle of the street in NYC all the time. The butlers are being very prissy with their duties, so I was right to not become friends with them in the first part of the video.

And we head back out to the abandoned field again, where the band is a rockin’ even though nobody came a knockin’. (Way off in the distance, I think I spy three tiny figures that might have showed up for the free concert but are now running for their lives. I understand their fear. That AC/DC wannabe guy is freaky. Didn’t people have access to medication in 1995?

The band plays for a while, but no one ever shows up. Poor guys.

Back to The City, where the band members arrive by their various means of transportation (foot, horse, thumb, not reading a book), waltzing up to the fancy dining table and taking a fancy seat. The butlers start hovering in that annoying way that service people have in expensive restaurants. (Really don’t care for that. If I’m going to pay fifty bucks for a stuffed-radish appetizer, you can stay the hell in the kitchen until I need you.)

And that’s really about it, with more scenes of the same. The band keeps playing in that Field of No Dreams, where if you sing it, they aren’t necessarily going to come. The band also plays some more on that truck without anybody falling and getting seriously hurt or tromped on by renegade band members insisting on riding Trigger on Broadway. And the band keeps eating caviar and mousse-based concoctions proffered by the Twirling Butlers from Yonkers.

(Side Note: I never realized how long this song was until now. Damn, people. How many times can you sing that same chorus without your tongue falling off out of sheer boredom?)

Anyway, singing, eating, twirling, blah blah blah, and we finally wrap things up with an actress sporting a vague Audrey Hepburn look and outfit, arriving in front of Tiffany’s so that we can see she has interesting glasses and apparently hasn’t eaten since the original movie came out. She takes off her glasses to eyeball the band members, then she and her lack-of-weight head into the store, where it is presumably more peaceful because people aren’t singing and there aren’t dining tables in the way.

Back outside, the band members finish their meal and then have a nice discussion with newly-arrived police officers about being a public nuisance and performing without a parade permit. The butlers pirouette and begin searching for other street picnics where they might be of some use…


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Sublime - “Santeria”

We start off with two of the band members in what must be their band hangout, crashed on the couch and getting ready to watch some tube and chill. (Something that musicians never do, right?) They have a very special dog that is able to operate the remote control, which is a really sweet deal, because we all know that having to push a button when you don't feel like it can be psychologically damaging. Doggie studies the viewing options and picks out what appears to be an old Western entitled “Santeria”, then he kicks back with a beer and his homies.

In the flick, we meet some of our cast, first seeing “Eric” and then “Bud” (wow, they look just like the modern-day band members!) as they diddle around in an Old West wheat field or some such, sweating. The dog is there, too, but he doesn’t get an opening credit. We get some filler introductory scenes, with Eric and Bud winding up their day, making music under the stars (with instruments, not the Brokeback kind of thing), and waiting for cable TV to be invented. The dog puts up with all of this, sighing, but knowing full well there’s going to be a chew toy proffered at some point if he's patient enough.

Oh wait, doggie does get a screen shout-out after all. It seems he’s “Lou Dog”, and he has interesting visions of a guy that appears to him inside a round ball, just like Glenda the Good Witch did in that movie with happy people running through poppy fields. (Reality check: The guy in the visions is actually Bradley Nowell, the lead singer of Sublime who died of a heroin overdose shortly before this video was made. And the dog was his. Harsh, I know, just keep reading and get back to the funny.)

Next day, our two guys and Lou Dog head into some Wild West town, sauntering down the dusty main street, perhaps in search of some nice Tex-Mex. For whatever reason, many of the townsfolk appear to be horrified at the sight of them, and go dashing off to tell hysterical stories to people probably named Lil and Fanny. At first, this reaction doesn’t bother our heroes, since they ran out of deodorant and bathing facilities three states ago and they are used to this reception.

But still, our heroes finally grow weary of the poor social skills of the residents, and turn to each other to discuss an alternate agenda for the day. This is when they realize that standing right behind them is a very large, very angry man who likes to holler and, most likely, kill people, just because it’s Tuesday. Big Guy’s name is “Sancho”, and he mad. Our heroes take one look at him, quickly realize that their talents lie in making music and not impromptu duels where no one is even bothering to serve refreshments, and the two skedaddle, thundering toward a conveniently-nearby ramshackle building.

Cut to the interior of a fancy saloon, replete with available whiskey, tawdry but fun-loving women in the pleasure business, and our heroes performing for the crowd on anachronistic equipment. (Lou Dog has another vision of his daddy playing with the other guys.) Everyone is having a swell time until Sancho bangs through the door and starts annoying people with his loudness and refusal to quit making his eyes bulge.

Cue a sweet little Working Girl to come running out of one of the “guest rooms”, adjusting her bustier and trying to see what all the racket is about. A title credit identifies her as “La Heina!”, and, despite her presumably grimy bedmates, she really is quite lovely and doesn’t look the least bit worse for the wear. Of course, it’s just mid-afternoon. Things can change.

Anyway, Sancho wanders through the goings-on, and decides that he wants to play him some poker, plopping down at one of the tables It’s very clear that he could easily kill everyone else at the table, so they really need to behave, but some fool in a Wyatt Earp hat decides he’s going to cheat by getting the dog to read Sancho’s cards. Poor Lou Dog. Still waiting on that chew toy and forced into yet another compromising situation.

Well, of course Sancho eventually figures out the ruse (probably because that’s the point where we’re at in the script) and his neck tendons start to pop. Before you know it, he’s tossing people around like panties at a Bon Jovi concert, including our two heroes, even though they did nothing wrong. (Okay, there were playing reggae/ska music in a place where Conway Twitty would be the preference, but still.)

Eventually our heroes end up sprawled on the dirty floor, with really-annoying Sancho yelling some crap at them that turns out to be a demand for a duel. (I had no clue that Big Mouth was wanting a duel until suddenly people were facing off in the middle of the street, wearing gun belts and probably-wet underwear.) Lou Dog, faithful companion, joins our heroes on their side of the standoff, while the rest of us get a glimpse of the shenanigans from between Sancho’s legs, a startling point of view that I don’t remember asking for.

Tensions mount and nerves twitch. Especially Sancho, with veins protruding and head wagging. (If he survives this little disagreement, he really should consider seeing a specialist.) Suddenly, the naughty-but-nice nymphet races out into the street, still wearing her night-night clothes and waving something about. She rushes up to Lou Dog, ties a kerchief around his neck, then staggers off to find a comfortable swooning spot. (Lou Dog gets an additional last-minute gift, this one in the form of another spectral visit from Bradley, playing his guitar off to the side.)

Suddenly, Lou Dog breaks rank and runs toward Sancho, who miraculously decides to quit being so angry and sits down in the dirt to pet and play with the dog. Crisis resolved, because who can stay angry when there’s a cute Dalmatian just wantin’ some lovin’? Maybe Lou Dog should have a second career conducting Mid-East peace talks.

We end with Sancho, Eric, Bud, the former lady of the evening, and Lou Dog, the real hero of the story after all, riding off into the sunset…


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Jennifer Lopez, Lil Wayne - “I’m Into You”

Editor’s Note: One of the most soul-damaging things I deal with as a music video reviewer is seeing the phrase “featuring Lil Wayne” in the title of a clip I’m about to watch. I have no idea why this little man is even remotely popular, and it sucks the life out of me to see his name. But since this is really Jennifer’s video, and I love me some J-Lo, I’ll try to be strong…

We start off with some dude running out of the ocean at night, heading up the beach. Jennifer and her pretty necklace spy him doing so, and she seems quite pleased with what she sees, even though she’s wearing sunglasses at night and probably can’t see a damn thing. (It’s all in the acting, right?) Since the guy seems to be taking a little while to get to her, Jenn fiddles around with a can of soda and makes sure that her glistening skin is being captured correctly by the cameraman.

Finally, Stud Boy makes it to the chair where Jennifer is lounging, and he’s definitely worth the wait, with pectorals bulging and a chiseled jaw that could jackhammer concrete. But instead of them falling into a passionate mashup of beautiful people, Jennifer looks the other way as if she doesn’t really care for what’s on the menu.

Cut to a shot of some Mayan temple out in the jungle, with overhead clouds moving faster than they should, and everything’s in black-and-white, so this is probably the artsy part of the video. Cut again to Jennifer wearing a metallic outfit and assuming poses that would look really appropriate in a Karate Kid movie. Then we’re flying over the ocean and looking at more old buildings where people don’t live anymore.

Then we start jumping all over the place. Brief shot of Jennifer wearing a headdress for no apparent reason, then she’s splashing about in the waves while wearing that metallic thing. (Shouldn’t she be worried about rust and such?) Stud Boy shows up, and it seems that he might be clutching Jennifer to his side, but since the camera is mostly focused on his beard stubble, he could be clutching anybody. More shots of Jennifer strutting around at the Mayan temples and showing us that she has a billowy dress that matches the headdress that doesn’t make any sense. Good for her.

The jump-cutting settles down for a little bit as we see J-Lo reclining on the beach, using Stud Boy as her air mattress. Then we have a long series of shots where Jennifer and Stud Boy are making it very clear that things between them are wet and sweaty, and that Jennifer feels it is very important that she grab one of his pecs every two seconds. Or maybe she’s just trying to push them out of the way so the camera can see her pouty lips.

Another long bit where Jennifer runs through the crashing waves while still wearing that metallic mini-dress, shaking her hips like a jellyfish just stung her in a personal place. Luckily, Stud Boy and his chest is there to save the day, so J-Lo makes sure to show her appreciation by rubbing against whatever body part he manages to offer.

Now we’re inside one of the Mayan temples, and Jennifer staggers out of some side room where they apparently have some really strong blow-dryers, because her hair is now jacked to Jesus and she’s squinting her eyes like her retinas have been burned off. No matter, J-Lo is a trooper, and she continues to wail the song even though she can’t see where she’s going, and she keeps getting her mammoth hair stuck on the stone walls.

Next up is Jennifer traipsing around outside the temple, gettin’ down with the stone steps and trying to keep that hair from upstaging her. Then she’s back inside, then she’s back on the beach, then she’s on the side of the temple again, posing like an African Princess even though the genealogy doesn’t really add up, then she’s back inside, and outside, and… how does Marc Anthony keep up with her? Geez.

The jump-cutting continues, with Jennifer appearing all over the place in her interesting couture. The theme for this segment seems to be that J-Lo likes nothing more than to use her hands to accentuate her breasts and her flawless face. That’s fine. Hey, if you got it and can market it, knock yourself out. Just be careful with that hair. I’m thinking that’s a fire hazard, so she probably needs to stay away from open flame.

To allay our fears about spontaneous hairdo combustion, Jennifer jumps into the ocean and gets herself all wet. In more ways than one.

Then we have Jennifer lounging on top of a stone wall, sporting another metal outfit, this one composed of what looks like pieces that someone stole from a science geek’s Erector Set. (Smart move on J-Lo’s part, reaching out to the nerds on their own terms.) Sadly, Jennifer is unable to move while wearing this obviously weighty gear, so she lets her lips do all the acting.

We change things up a bit by heading back into the temple, where Jennifer and two of her closest backup dancers have decided to do some Mayan choreography. Drums are involved, along with the ability to gyrate your crotch in a manner that would normally result in a pineapple smoothie being handed to a customer.

Then we’re back out on the beach, with Jennifer and Stud Boy enjoying the crashing waves and the fact that they both have nipples. This triggers a revisit to all of the outfits that Jennifer has worn up to this point, including the Science Project contraption where Jennifer can’t get off that one wall but she still looks pretty. We wrap it up with J-Lo performing a really bouncy dance on the beach, and then doing some serious lip-lock action with the man who raced out of the ocean at the exact moment that she needed some pectoral muscles that could save her from evil blow-dryers in a Mayan temple.

That final sound you hear is Marc Anthony calling his personal trainer…


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Kelly Clarkson - “Miss Independent”

We start out in some house where we apparently have lots of bodies lying about in the various rooms. It’s not clear what has happened, but I’m not ruling out a bad batch of tuna casserole. There are even bodies out by the pool, and a shocking glimpse of one woman who possibly had sex with a bean bag before expiring.

Oh, look, there’s Kelly sitting on a couch all by herself. She seems to be in fine working order, wearing a shabby-chic outfit that coordinates with the giant photograph behind her on the wall. She starts singing, which somehow causes her body to be transported to a new location, next to a TV that is no longer receiving a signal but she still looks cute. There’s another giant photograph on this wall as well, and I’m starting to not care for those things.

Next we have Kelly strolling down a short hallway, trying to be slinky and seductive, though it’s not really clear why she would want to do this, with everybody else in the house being dead and all. She sashays past a few more groups of bodies, but only gives them a brief glance, so she must not have been very close to them. Instead, she continues to pick her way through mounds of party debris as if she’s looking for something, like the remote control or an escape clause on her recording contract.

Still warbling, she makes her way into the vanity area of a bathroom, and becomes completely enraptured with the image of herself in the mirror. In delight, she begins to fiddle with her accessories, and then reaches out to touch herself and make reflective love.

Oh, wait, some dude just walked by behind her. She’s not the only survivor. Yay! Kelly turns and chases him into another room, and we see that all the dead people are now alive and everybody’s jamming to Kelly’s tune. (Maybe they were just napping?) Kelly doesn’t ask any questions, and just starts hopping around and bellowing, happy to have a live audience again and waiting for the three judges to praise her and let her move forward another round.

The reincarnated people are REALLY happy to be mobile again, especially when somebody breaks out the silly string and the air is suddenly filled with aerosol-based sperm. Even Kelly squirts a time or two, when she’s not sitting on the kitchen counter and singing with two girls that she’s probably never met, but impromptu harmonizing often happens when people wear spaghetti-strap blouses and the TV doesn’t work. There’s even some arm-wrestling at the kitchen table, proving that these people are completely out of control and living on the edge.

Now we’re in some room that has been converted into a nightclub, with people dancing around while Kelly’s face beams from a large monitor. Kelly kicks this part of the entertainment off by singing one line into a microphone, and then handing the mike to a succession of her party friends so they can sing a line as well. I’m sure it was absolutely fascinating if you were there in person and alcohol-availability was at maximum levels, but watching from a distance, and sober, some of the charm is lost and I actually preferred it when these people weren’t moving.

Eventually, everybody gets bored with that, and we head out to the swimming pool. It seems that actual bathing suits were not available in this part of town, so people are making do with whatever they are wearing, or not wearing. There’s some silliness with a surfboard, and then we have a civil disobedience uprising, with people being thrown in the pool while Kelly continues to wail the song and make hand gestures like she’s got some happenin’ purses for sale in her trunk and you better hurry if you want one.

Cut to later that night, and things have calmed down considerably, with the place almost deserted. There may have been police activity, with a S.W.A.T. team swooping in and taking out the most obnoxious instigators, like frat boys who say “bro” way too much and coeds who insist on talking like they’re three years old and just discovered their own belly button. (“Like, oh my God, I could put my finger in it!”)

Kelly wanders around, and we realize that the place is not entirely vacated. Instead, we have couples nuzzling each other in an intimate manner, sprawled in little clumps about the premises. (There’s even a duo in the bathtub, because THAT’S sexy, right?) Kelly is very sad that everybody has a bang buddy except her, so she heads back to that vanity mirror to remind herself that she already has a partner, even if it’s just her own image.

That only satisfies her for a little bit (you can only take so much of your partner making the exact same movements that you do before the relationship starts to sour), so Kelly goes back to the dance hall and stares at a cartoon image of a heart on that giant monitor, apparently hoping that someone riding a unicorn or a Care Bear will come up and save her.

Lo and behold, and not a surprise at all, her Prince Charming is that same guy who ran away from her two minutes ago. (This was probably a cost-savings measure, using the same guy so they didn’t have to hire another actor). Now that Kelly has her own squeeze to play catch with, everybody starts partying again, including one woman with ugly red shoes who insists on dancing on the designer coffee table. (In my house, that skank would SO get smacked across the face for doing that, jello shots or not.)

Anyway, we wind things down with the Dance of Impending Copulation continuing, as Kelly starts whipping her hair around and the other celebrants are further trashing a home that is clearly not theirs. We close the video with Kelly back on that one couch where she made her debut, and her new beau wanders in to sit beside her, with an “aw-shucks” grin and a Justin Bieber hairdo at a time when Justin was still in training pants. Kelly just smiles at him naughtily, apparently more than ready to lose her independence…


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