Christina Aguilera - “Not Myself Tonight”

  Apparently not, based on this video. Girl done got her some new outfits and an overdose of hormones. Look out. (Side note: There’s some language in this one, and some eye-opening scenes that would not play well at a Baptist revival, so keep that in mind.)

  We start off rather chastely, with Christina dolled up in that Greta-Garbo-on-acid look that she’s been sporting for the new album. Nobody’s having sex or anything. But this cleanliness only lasts for a short bit, and we start getting glimpses of Christina wearing far less Puritan couture, and she’s already dripping sweat from her insatiable need to ride the white horse. (We also see that one of the makeup artists thought it would be fun to make Xtina’s eyes look like they exploded in one scene. But why?)

  Cut to a room filled with sexy people wearing just bits of leather and some hair gel. Christina is the only one in white, making it easier to find her when it’s time to switch sex partners. She’s pawing on a few of the people while strutting around the room, so she apparently hasn’t made her selection from the menu yet. (We have a quick shot of Christina screaming for no apparent reason and then grabbing her crotch. Did it say something rude?)

  While Christina continues to peruse the offerings in the main room of the sex club, we get other shots of Christina doing things like holding her face, wearing what might be a plastic raincoat, letting us get a closeup of her designer sunglasses, and showing that she can indeed pull off about 400 different hairstyles and still look cute. Well, as cute as one can be while dripping with “personal lubricant” and running around in clothing that is normally used to restrain the criminally insane.

  Then the sex addicts in the main room decide to do a line dance, because that’s always a nice form of foreplay. As they prance about, Raincoat Christina decides that she really needs to caress the thighs of a woman hanging from the ceiling. (No explanation is given as to why the woman is in this predicament, the tramp is just there all the sudden.) Oh my, there’s a startling shot showing that Raincoat Christina just figured out what’s for dinner, and she gets busy with that. Seems Christina must have really liked gym class in high school.

  Back to the main room, where people are still waving their arms and thrusting their crotches to the beat. (I’m not sure why the girls are all dancing together in power formation, and the guys seem to be dancing with just themselves and apparently listening to a different song, but I haven’t been to any sex clubs lately so I’m sure there’s been some changes.) There IS one point when everybody jumps in the air at the same time, and that’s kind of fun, but it doesn’t really prove anything.

  Meanwhile, all the side sex shows are still going on, proving that Christina is a very busy girl. I think my favorite bit is when she makes the army of poodle-haired look-alikes do aerobics, sort of a twisted commercial for the L.A. Fitness that just opened in Stepford. Not so crazy about the business with Christina crawling on the ground and lapping from a dog bowl, because Madonna already did that back in the day with the “Express Yourself” video, and people, once Madonna has done it, there’s no point in you even trying to do it yourself, because it won’t be the same. (They teach you this in “Self-Promotion 101”, the first day of class.)

  Anyway, Christina and all her little friends keep gyrating about in all the various settings. They seem to be having a good time, which is nice, but these people really need to calm down if they actually want to hook up. (In one interesting shot, Christina proves that she can continue singing the song whilst wearing a designer wetsuit and scratching her back with her extremely-high heels at the same time. This is something you can only do if you are pop star who can afford a personal trainer.)

  Right after Christina sings the bit about having lost her mind (at least she’s honest), the jump-cutting kicks into high gear. More fun with pet food bowls, dressing like a mummy while perched on a red velvet chair, and Christina showing that her fingers are just as limber as her legs, flipping us off if we don’t care for her singing about her hoo-hoo and frolicking with randy people wearing pointless shreds of clothing who can grab her breasts in time to the beat.

  Now Christina has managed to come up with a “Blade Runner” hairdo and a dress that was run over by a tractor. This Christina really likes to run her fingers over her neck, but she might just be trying to get some of the bobby pins out, because that hairdo looks WAY too tight. Cut to 8 shirtless guys wearing jeans and doing a line dance in a parking lot where it’s rainy and dark. They’re cute and muscular and all, but why would they want to do this?

  It seems that Christina is wondering the same thing, so she puts on a red bra and panties to go check it out. The guys don’t explain anything, but they do form a circle around Christina and pretend like they are banging on drums while she acts like her crotch is about to explode. Perhaps this is a tribal ritual from one of those countries where they still don’t get satellite TV.

  Now Christina is doing another Madonna tribute, hopping around on a giant Art Deco staircase and fiddling with a monocle. (Oh, and there’s also something about a hooker choir in a church, but it’s not really clear what they are doing in this particular House of the Lord, other than some choreography that involves slut stilettos and g-strings. That’s one offering plate that you probably shouldn’t touch without wearing latex gloves.)

  Next we have Christina walking out of a clothes closet, most likely because her hair is too big and bushy to stand in there comfortably. She’s holding a Molotov cocktail, which she casually tosses over her shoulder into the closet, then assumes a sexy stance which actually looks like it might require a chiropractor if she does that too much. (I guess those clothes were SO last season and it was time for them to go. Burning the house to the ground is one way to take care of that.)

  Shameless plug of Christina’s new line of fragrances, with the camera lingering lovingly on two of the glamorous bottles. Oh wait, the plug continues, with Christina, back in the red panties and bra, practically dousing herself with gallons of the perfume. Apparently this is some good stuff, because it causes a sweaty stud to magically appear in the room with her.

  And I guess the fragrance gets into the air vents of the sound stage, because suddenly everyone in all the set pieces erupts into a mad whirl of pawing each other and tossing bits of clothing about. While Christina straddles her Magic Man, the rest of the gang gets busy clawing, riding, flipping hair, changing partners with every third word of the song, and line-dancing whenever there’s enough floor space.

  The alarming carnality reaches a peak and then recedes with the whispering end of the song. We are left with Christina having managed to find some of her clothes and staring directly into the camera, acting all innocent, pure, and incapable of doing anything we’ve just seen her do.

  Uh huh.


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Justin Bieber - “One Less Lonely Girl”

  We start off with Justin doing a little dance step on some street somewhere. We’re not sure why he seems to be so happy, but he’s young and doesn’t have to worry about bills or being responsible. He starts singing to the camera, which is fine, but he keeps doing the little dance step, which is already annoying and we’re only 10 seconds into the video.

  Luckily, the camera pans away so we can see the rest of the street. It’s a typical small-town setting, with businesses here and there, and an obvious lack of gangs and crack houses. We focus on one of those places where you can drag your clothes in and wash them yourself, so apparently something major is going to go down among the suds.

  Here comes the starlet of the show, a pretty youngster (naturally) lugging a laundry basket with only about three items in it, so she obviously doesn’t understand things like economics and time-motion studies. She flits her way in the door and encounters Justin, who just happens to be sitting there playing his guitar. (All the hip young people practice their music in public washing areas.) He ogles Flirtina like she’s the hottest thing to ever carry a container of dirty panties. (In fact, he’s so lascivious with his leer that he would have been arrested if he were a few years older. But I guess horniness is cute when you can’t drive yet.)

  Back to the street outside, where Justin sings some more, and seems to be really invested in touching his chest with what he thinks is conviction, but looks more like he’s got some serious congestion. Back inside, Flirtina is prepping her undies and catches Justin giving her the eye. She smiles back, and Justin plays his guitar. (There’s already so much sugar in this thing that they should be running a Diabetic Alert across the bottom of the screen.)

  Street again, with more chest-touching and that little dance step that is no longer interesting in any way. (Can you seriously tell me that Paula Abdul wasn’t available for some pointers?) Back inside again, with Flirtina pretending to blush and clearly not getting anything clean while she plays eye-tag with Justin. Then she grabs her basket and leaves (what? forgot her quarters?), but not without obviously dropping something red on the floor. (Something tells me she no longer qualifies to wear white. Just sayin.)

  Justin sees the droppage, and scampers over to snatch up the scarf. But instead of chasing down Flirtina and returning what might be her favorite article of clothing, one that she intends to wear at her wedding later that night (it could happen), Justin just stands there and grins to himself, a nefarious plot hatching somewhere under those deadly bangs of his.

  Next we see, Justin is hanging up signs with arrows on streetlamps and such, and convincing passersby and street vendors to participate in whatever he has planned. What could The Bieber be up to? We find out when Flirtina enters the laundry facility again with a new load of wash. (She was just here. How dirty can she be?)

  Once more, she doesn’t really focus on her task at hand, and instead is peering around the place trying to find the guitar-playing teen that she suddenly can’t live without. When she can’t find him, she considers joining a convent, then returns to her basket. Then she spies a note on the wall. “I have your scarf. If you want it back, find me!” She grins ecstatically and dashes out the door, leaving her laundry behind, because nobody ever steals things in those places, right?

  And I guess it doesn’t even cross Flirtina’s mind that the note she is now clutching is the same kind that a serial killer would use. Maybe Flirtina doesn’t watch “Law & Order”. Or the news. Or the back of milk cartons.

  Flirty starts finding the cute little signs that Justin’s assistant has drawn, bearing slogans like “I will buy you expensive chocolate”, “I will shower you with kisses” and “Please sign this pre-nup.” Flirty also encounters some bonus gifts like candy, flowers and a puppy. These things are handed to her by shop-owners who are willingly promoting underage hanky-panky. Times change, right? Back in the day, you had to sneak out in the middle of the night for a few minutes of groping with your squeeze. Now the grownups are apparently reserving the hotel rooms for you. (Maybe it’s the frequent flier miles.)

  Eventually, Flirtina makes it to the end of the trail, dragging along about 500 pages of crayoned paper, so you know she’s a bit tuckered. Flirty wanders into some building where Justin has arranged for candles, strings of pretty lights, and the absence of any responsible adults. He puts the missing scarf around Flirty and then they nuzzle. This causes Flirty to have flashbacks to all the nice presents and livestock she picked up on the way over. They hold each other as the music fades…

  Now I think I’ll go watch “The Blue Lagoon.” It seems to be calling to me…


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Wiz Khalifa - “Black And Yellow”

  Fessing up: I had no idea who this person was, but he kept popping up on the Billboard Hot 100 chart, and he’s got around 20 million hits on YouTube with this song, so what the hell, let’s see what the man lays down. I should be fair, right?

  Maybe not.

  We start out with a profile of Wiz, then cut to shots of some bridge leading to… a city with really tall buildings. More shots of Wiz wearing bling, so we can know that he’s street and all that, while people in the chorus of the song are bellowing “black and yellow” like their lives depend on it. I’ll just have to guess that “black and yellow” means something. Gang colors? Ugly bruises? Pissed-off  bees that really won’t be satisfied until they sting somebody? Who knows.

  More shots of bridges and the anonymous city. Cut to Wiz holding his crotch while standing in front of giant, illuminated pillars. Gee, do you think Wiz might be proud of his penis? If there’s one thing that symbolizes the decline of Western Civilization, it’s either the mystifying, continued influence of the Republican Party, or the need for rappers to grope themselves in public.

  But I’m not bitter.

  We start jump-cutting around, with images of Wiz possibly cleaning himself up (big surprise there), Wiz sitting in what might be an Egyptian setting (no idea), and street signs with names that we don’t recognize. Oh, and some shots of gold watches and such, because you really aren’t anybody unless you have bling. Or a recording contract that allows your assistants to purchase bling for you.

  And there’s some instructional footage that lets us now that, apparently, Wiz is strongly desired by every female on the planet. Didn’t know that. Thanks for the tip.

  Quick shot of somebody cooking what might be grits. This is probably important in some way, I just haven’t figured it out yet. And in case you were wondering, yes, Wiz has an astonishingly large number of tattoos. Again, probably means something, I just didn’t get the memo. And Wiz continues to love his penis, groping his crotch like the answer to all of Life’s mysteries are within the folds of his jeans.

  Wiz fesses up to having made a million dollars. Really?

  Then Wiz hops into a fancy car and peels out, even though it’s a bit questionable whether or not his skinny arms can actually turn the wheel. His driving style apparently requires that he open his mouth really big while navigating the city streets. (Just to set the scene, don’t forget that everybody is bellowing “black and yellow” throughout all of this.) We have shots of Wiz greeting his Home Boys at some place where they either play basketball or count drug sales. I’m not sure.

  Then we have a very nice montage where Wiz disses lesbians, so he’s a real quality guy. This is accented by more shots of women who can’t wait to have Wiz’s baby. Seriously, what planet are these people living on? And why would anybody be paying attention to somebody who can’t let go of his noodle for any length of time?

  Oh. Now they’re showing us those exact people. Wiz is bopping around in front of a huge crowd of fans, with many of them waving black-and-yellow flags. (They are also waving beverages that are clearly alcoholic, but I suppose I shouldn’t whine.) This love fest goes on for a while, with the crowd going wild for Wiz’s ability to point at himself and wear sunglasses.

  The worshipping of Wiz (that’s a phrase I never thought I would type) goes on for quite some time. More of the acolytes praising Wiz for his existence, more of the flag waving, and more of my stunned wondering how any of this is taking place. And why in the hell is Wiz wearing tube socks pulled up to his knee caps? Help me understand this. Has anybody EVER looked at such an image and thought, wow, I want to be impregnated by THAT.

  Weird shots of some stylist cutting hair and a DJ spinning records. Are these people relatives?

  Back to that basketball court, where people are not accomplishing anything other than smoking cigarettes (not judging, I do as well) and standing around while waiting for the camera to turn their way so they can squeal and ovulate over the fact that Wiz is nearby. Lots of hands are in the air over this worship of the Wiz Man. (Yet another phrase that I never thought I would type.)

  Now there’s a bunch of people standing on top of what might be a fast-food restaurant, waving flags and grabbing their crotches, so either the food is really good or we have a serious outbreak of crabs. The watching crowd doesn’t care, undulating in a frenzy of desire to anoint Wiz as the Second Coming.

  Shots of lots more black-and-yellow flags.

  We wind down with a final image of Wiz grinning maniacally, teeth everywhere.

  Really?

  I’ve obviously missed something, somewhere. And I’m glad I did.


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