We have all seen Sacha act out in crazy ways through his old TV show and in the movie Borat. However, the movie Bruno really topped the charts for me. I sat through the entire movie with a shocked look strewn across my face. Yes, his outrageous antics made me laugh and even blush with embarrassment (for him) but this was not the reason I was shocked.
If you notice, between the crazy skits and the seemingly skin-deep satire, there are actually a lot of hidden meanings to the movie. First off, I noticed Sasha acted the way he did in order to get strangers to fess up. Through shear comedy he managed to get a lady; a mother, to admit that she would let her baby be photographed on a crucifix and would even have her child undergo liposuction to lose 10 pounds.
(click play and follow link)
“Congratulations, how do you feel?” I love it.
Sasha also exposed the reality of gay rights and lack-thereof by attempting to turn strait. He does multiple things to do so like joining the military, interviewing an anti gay preacher, having a camping trip with rednecks, and attending a swinger’s party.
(I love how he salute’s him, god that’s funny)
I have to say though the ending of the movie is the best, him and his new boyfriend end up in a cage-match fight in front of hundreds of anti gay rednecks. I won’t spoil that one for you though. Sasha approaches many other things as well such as global warming, world hunger, the war, and really ditzy models.
Just like Weird Al, most people burned him for being different and trying to take on issues with comedy. IE “whatever you like spoof” Where he broaches the economic crisis. Sacha does the same thing by putting himself at risk of degradation and humiliation. Yea sometimes it seems that he goes to far, but isn’t that the way of shock art? It’s sad that people have to go to such great lengths to make a point these days but I have to give kudos for those who do.
As much as I prefer not to play by the rules, I know that they are necessary. Without rules, there is chaos. It will be anarchy and that won’t be good for anybody.
We do not have an art model union at FSU. There is no handbook. But there is an understanding that you must respect the person who is getting paid to shed their clothes for the sake of fine art and higher education. Seems pretty simple to me. Most of the students I encounter get it, too. Anyone who has had Carrie Ann Baade for figure drawing or painting totally gets it because Carrie spent many years as an art model and she is our best supporter. (She also makes her students keep their chemicals covered so that we don’t have to inhale dangerous fumes for hours on end. Like her, I am pretty sensitive and intolerant of bad smells. Put a lid on it!)
Of course, you know something must have happened to prompt me to write about the rules. Yesterday was one of those marathon modeling days for me. First, I had a figure drawing class, then I had Mark Messersmith’s extra-long painting class. (That’s 7 ½ hours for those of you who are counting.) I’ve made it harder for myself because of the challenging pose I chose for the latter class. I think I mentioned in my last post that I wanted to do a pose that would have the majority of the students focusing on my back. Backs are sexy. They have a lot of muscles and contours. And I’m obsessed with my back dimples. I also thought that there are enough painting of my BOOBS for now. Yes, I said BOOBS because everyone paints them so much larger than they appear in reality. It’s like they are obsessed with breasts. (Yes, they are real and they’re spectacular.)
So, it’s really hard. The pose, that is. I have my legs under me, my torso twisted and my neck turned. It looks great, but it feels like a nightmare. Since this is a pose I will do for a couple of weeks, I need a little assistance from the students to get back into it exactly right. Really, I need one student, because having more than one telling me what to do is both annoying and ineffective. (And no, you cannot touch me, so do not even try it.) I vote for my friend Chris to be the official spotter, because he is awesome and has the best view. Just as I got into the pose at the beginning of yesterday’s class, Mark called the whole class to go over to the art department office to gather a delivery of art supplies. Noooooooooooooo!
And there I was, alone and naked with one student remaining. Awkward, right? Oh, it was downright creepy because it was Buzzkill Betty and she said “Oh boy, I get the naked girl all to myself,” in the creepiest voice ever. Yeah, I jumped up, grabbed my robe, and ran for Mark’s office. I’m sorry, but I don’t like that girl’s attitude or aura. Her black soul hangs heavy in the room and it makes me uncomfortable. She seems to enjoy talking about the most depressing things ever. Seriously. Later that evening, out of nowhere and totally unprompted, she starts telling us about some friend of a friend, or something, committing suicide. Why? Why must you always bring us down with your pathetic stories? If you are that sad and in need of attention, please seek professional help. There are people you can talk to at the university.
But wait. It gets worse. She broke the Cardinal Rule of Art Modeling: Do Not Photograph the Model Without Permission. I nearly flipped my shit. There I was, finally in a comfortable zone, listening to relaxing music (a fabulous mix courtesy of my GBF Daniel), forgetting about the pain in my back, and dreaming of warmer weather and a weekend at the beach, when I suddenly see that krazy (yes, with a K) girl holding a camera, about to snap a photo of me — naked.
WTF?
Being a professional, I did not break pose (or wind) to get up and beat a bitch’s ass. Instead, I loudly asked, “OH MY GOD, IS SOMEONE TRYING TO TAKE MY PHOTO WITHOUT PERMISSION?” Her response was “Your face won’t be in it.” To which I replied, “I don’t care. I don’t want my naked body in it.” Absofuckinglutely not. No. No photos of me naked. Ever. If you ask me nicely, and I like you, I may let you take a photo of just my face, so you can get the likeness. Maybe. You have to ask first. Period. If I say no, that’s that. I don’t care if other models let you photograph their naked asses. It’s their prerogative. I’m saying no. That’s that. End of discussion.
She made up some excuse about thinking I once said it was OK, and she finally apologized, but it was too late and insincere. My dear friend Darla is the only one who can take naked photos of me, because she is awesome and would never use the photos to hurt me. No exceptions.
I never want to end on a grumpy note, so here’s a little funny thing I overheard Dani say about Res-N-Gel: “It balls up.” Yes, balls-up makes me laugh. Thank you, Dani — and Joni, Chris, Johnny, Kaelin, Trevon, and the rest of you awesome artists for making the class fun. And for more happiness, a huge congratulations goes to Kaelin for her recent engagement. I am totally jealous of her beautiful ring. She is going to be a gorgeous bride. (Please keep me in mind when you are looking for a wedding photographer, mkay?)
Three women, two younger, and one senior citizen were sitting naked in a sauna.
Suddenly there was a beeping sound. The young woman pressed her forearm and the beeping stopped.
The others looked at her questioningly. “That was my pager,” she said. “I have a microchip under the skin of my arm.”
A few minutes later a phone rang, the second young woman lifted her hand to her ear. When she was finished she explained, “That was my cell phone, I have a microchip in my hand.”
The older woman felt very low tech. So she decided that she was not going to be out done, and wanted to do something impressive. She stepped out of the sauna and went into the bathroom. She returned with a piece of toilet paper hanging from her rear end.
The others raised their eyebrows and stared at her. The older woman finally said,”Well, will you look at that I am getting a fax.”
Jersey Shore’s Snooki Nude Photo Released… More Promised to Come…
Snooki of MTV’s “Jersey Shore” is caught in the centre of the show’s latest naked scandal. The reality star, real name Nicole Polizzi, is reported to have self-taken VERY GRAPHIC nude pics and video – someone is shopping that same material to the media.According to the report there are self-taken nude photos and also naked videos.
For her part, Snooki denies she has nude photos on the loose.
“Idk where radar online comes up with their stories..weirdos,” she tweeted Tuesday morning.
Then: “Like i said before about my supposed ’sex tape’…There are no nude pictures nor will there ever be. the tabloids just love snook gossip ;]”
Yeah right heres The Snooki Nude Pic that doesnt Exist….
I’ve been told that Vodka makes me mean. I’ve also been told I’m a very mean sober. It was probably a bad idea to start drinking White Russians with a coworker, but I’m an awkward drink order at times, I occasionally just glob on to whatever the person I’m with is drinking. I’ve never been particularly picky over drinks. I felt the phone vibrate, thinking it was Kara, but it was my ex, and I just wanted to ignore it. Kara came and joined us minutes later and insisted I switch to scotch, but I refused. Never one to mince words, Kara puts orders a scotch and a White Russian.
Then she starts in about Taylor, having read about it, and not spoken to me since it happened. I just mentioned how I was kind of seeing Nicole, and I wasn’t exactly proud of the whole Taylor thing. She then decided to point out how boring I (and by extension the reading material) has been aside from her. I told her that maybe I was a lapsed sinner. She nudged my drink closer and gave a devilish grin. I took a gulp. She asked if I would call Taylor if I got drunk enough, this is the precise moment I looked down at my phone and saw a text from yet another girl, drunk already, and asking me to come over. I gave her a flimsy excuse, and told her that I wasn’t much feeling like going out. All the while Kara watching and yelling at me over it. This is while the text girl went from flirty to belligerent. She started coaxing harder, and then calling me an asshole and a tool. I finished my White Russian, and started to get up and out of the bar without a word.
She came walking after me, asking if I was gonna say bye or anything. I just muttered some half-assed shallow apology. I then get yet another drunk text from another girl from the last 90 days. She mentions how she asked around about me, and how I’m allegedly a catch, and I just lose my shit. I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I told her it was messed up that she was asking around about me, and how I couldn’t believe that she would even do it. I proceed to go back to the bar, and re-sit myself down next to Kara, and order a scotch and soda.
We don’t say a word for five minutes. She kept almost saying something, and then just saw the look on my face. She knew I wanted pristine silence, and to just sit and drink together. Personally, it wouldn’t even have mattered if she was there at that moment, but it wasn’t entirely awful that she was. She smacked me upside the head out of nowhere, and just said, “Snap out of it.” I could have kissed or killed her in that moment, but I just repeated my disappearing act.
I’ve been told that Vodka makes me mean. I’ve also been told I’m a very mean sober. It was probably a bad idea to start drinking White Russians with a coworker, but I’m an awkward drink order at times, I occasionally just glob on to whatever the person I’m with is drinking. I’ve never been particularly picky over drinks. I felt the phone vibrate, thinking it was Kara, but it was my ex, and I just wanted to ignore it. Kara came and joined us minutes later and insisted I switch to scotch, but I refused. Never one to mince words, Kara puts orders a scotch and a White Russian.