Posted by: Julian Ayrs on: November 30, 2009
Imagine that!
Today, after a couple of exhausting hours shopping at the mall, I stepped up to the cash register at Nordstrom’s in West Los Angeles to purchase a pair of running shoes for the sum of $49.95 & basic no-frills jeans for the princely sum of $78.00 (yes, at this snotty outlet, the merchandise is generally overpriced and a consumer rip-off).
I was quite flabbergasted, to say the least, when the cashier – a snippy young man thin as a rail – rang up the two items and arrived at the staggering total of approximately $198.00.
Even when I considered applicable local and state taxes, it was quite evident to me from the get-go, that the sum was incorrect.
When I queried the young dude (with all the charm and personality of a worm) about the cost of each item, at first – he insisted in a rude insulting tone of voice - that the shoes were priced @ $98.00.
At this juncture, I pointed out the correct price, which was $49.99 (marked inside the shoe).
He balked, and asserted that I was wrong, and that the price was the higher one quoted.
At this point, a nnumber of shoppers overheard the commotion, and started to gawk from their perches in the vicinity of the register.
Flustered by the predicament he was in, the kid with the mismatched shoes (a man should never wear brown boots with a dark blue suit!) proceeded to thrust the blame on me in a deceitful effort to avoid recrimination).
Was Nordstrom’s really trying to charge me double the cost of the shoes?
Yes, but I caught their dishonest employee red-handed in front of a whole posse of shoppers, who continued to stare in total disbelief as the Nordstrom thief stood there twisting in the wind red-faced.
After a few awkward moments, he then took a stab at passing the blame on to a fellow employee.
“Someone put the shoes in the wrong box,” he blurted out.
As Judge Judge would say:
“Do I have stupid written on my forehead?”
Notwithstanding the obvious, he did not even bother to apologize!
No, sir!
Then, he did something totally retarded.
He proceeded to incorrectly input my personal data into the computer in, so that second time around (when the charges were being calculated and submitted for approval), the information got garbled and was summarily rejected.
No wonder!
Put garbage in, you get garbage out.
Was this sorry excuse for a human being born under a rock, or what?
Where do shop owners like Nordstrom’s find these losers?
In so many words, I told him to forget the purchase, but you know what I was really thinking!
“You can take the shoes and jeans and shove them up your butt!”
He was such a big asshole, that there wouldn’t be any need for any lubricant, either!
Bottom line?
I recommend that you avoid Nordstrom’s in the future.
All the prissy little fags who work there are not only incompetent, but need a serious attitude adjustment, and are not worth the bother (or your hard-earned cash).
Amen!
Posted by: Julian Ayrs on: November 27, 2009

Walmart’s is jumping on the Miley Cyrus bandwagon this holiday season!
On Saturday November 28th (2 pm to 5 pm) during peak shopping hours, the popular retailer will screen performances of Miley’s 2009 concert.
In addition to the opportunity to catch the scintillating stage footage up-close-and-personal, die-hard fans will undoubtedly be thrilled to hear they’ll also be able to take a gander at exclusive behind-the-scenes snippets of Miley impromptu relaxing backstage.
Of course, there is a catch!
Wal-Mart’s treat is a bit of a ploy to lure Miley’s fans into one of their many outlets around the country – with the ultimate aim - of rustling up sales for their lastest offerings.
Yes, Wal-Mart execs are praying that the Miley Cyrus & Max Azria Dresses will start flying off-the-rack and onto the nubile young silhouettes of style-conscious females around the country.
As I always say – if the cocktail dress fits – then wear it!
Happy shopping, girls!
Posted by: Julian Ayrs on: November 26, 2009
One of my contacts at Universal Music Group graciously provided me with a coveted copy of Italian opera singer Andrea Bocelli’s new release.
The Christmas album - carols are my favorite, by the way – is a beautiful collection of traditional yuletide songs with a handful of modern favorites (penned in recent years by contemporary composers) tossed in for good measure which not only underscore Mr. Bocelli’s versality – but also – his keen ability to unravel the very heartbeat of a song.
With a lot of verve and style, he nabs it musically with his renditions of “Santa Clause is coming to Town”, “Blue Christmas” (with Reba McEntire), and “Jingle Bells (with Muppets backing up).
A few tunes were recorded in French, Italian, and German (“Oh Holy Night”, for instance).
A duet with Natalie Cole (A Christmas Song) is as smooth as butter!
Gosh, I’d love to share a few bars with you, but in receiving the exclsive watermarked copy e-mailed to me for purposes of getting the word out to my readers during the holiday season, I am bound by an agreement not to release any of the material to third parties.
Darn it!
Take my word for it, if you’re an Andrea Bocelli fan (even if you’re not) the enchanting recordings (enchanced by angelic choir-boy voices, heart-tugging strings, and whimsical musical interludes) are a must-have for the upcoming Christmas celebrations.
And, even though it’s not December 1st yet (when the FTC rules kick-in for mandatory blogger disclosure) I’ll wholeheartedly note for the record that if the album wasn’t gifted me for review purposes, I would have laid down cold-hard cash for the listening pleasure anyhoo!
So, don’t get your knickers in a twist – FTC officials – eh?
Bocelli was born in Lajatico, Tuscany (Italy) to Alessandro and Edi Bocelli.
In spite of his lofty world status today as a renowned crooner, Andrea grew up on a humble farm.
As a young boy, Bocelli showed a great natural gift (and passion) for music.
“Music was the only thing that would comfort him,” his mother fondly recalled.
At the age of six he first started-up with piano lessons, then went on to master the flute, saxophone, trumpet, trombone, harp, guitar and drums.
Whew!
What a musical whiz, eh?
Unfortuately, Bocelli was diagnosed with glaucoma in his early youth.
In 1970, at the age of 12, he completely lost his sight after an accident during a game of sports.
After he finished high school (1980) he studied Law at the University of Pisa.
He graduated as a Doctor of Laws and spent one year as an attorney (appointed by the court).
In his lean days, Bocelli performed evenings in piano bars.
It was there, in 1987, that he met his future wife, Enrica.
Although Bocelli has a large following – and can do no wrong in their estimation (musically or otherwise) – the handsome pop/opera singer has been overly criticised by classical music critics in opera circles (Bernard Holland/NY Times & Andrew Clement/The Guardian).
Some say ”poor phrasing, uneven tone and lack of technique”, hinder Bocelli’s chances of reaching greater heights in musical realms in a more serious vein.
My best advice to Andrea is to continue with his own style – since it has served him well – and brings much joy to music-lovers around the globe.
Who could ask for anything more?
In closing, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that there are upcoming concert dates on the boards for fans who are chopping-at-the-bit to catch the charismatic performer live! on stage.
The December engagement in Vegas may be sold out, but check it out, maybe you’ll get lucky!
Posted by: Julian Ayrs on: November 25, 2009
One of the local dailies captioned the cheeky dalliance with potentially x-rated material ”Risque Business”
Meanwhile, the tongues of office workers wagged at water coolers around the country non-stop to a fever pitch.
At issue was Adam Lambert’s in-your-face (literally!) American Music Awards stage performance – in which Fox TV’s darling Pop Idol – grabbed his crotch suggestively at one climatic moment (then, planted a juicy kiss on a surprised male musician the next).
The impromptu spontaneous (there weren’t any rehearsals?) stabs at notoriety – subsequently - triggered a shi*-load of negative e-mail and a barrage of irate phone calls to the network’s switchboard from amrchair prudes in the heartland (and elsewhere, no doubt).
Initially, the Parents Television Council (the strongest vocal opponent in the wake of the controversy) appeared to be attacking the out & proud Diva, who some contend crossed the line (and bounds of decency).
But, in a release issued to the press hours later, PTC was inclined to condemn the Network, the advertisers, and the scheming producers (Dick Clark Productions) for broadcasting a show in the family hour which they asserted was “tasteless” and “vulgar” in the final analysis.
A director of communications for the watchdog group underscored that their criticisms were levelled at the performance (and the intrinsic nature of it) and not Lambert, or the song, per se.
I agree wholeheartedly that Networks should be mindful in respect to content in the bill-of-fare that is broadcast over the airwaves when viewers are tuning in during the family hour.
For good reason!
Kids are mimickers.
Once they catch sight of a pop icon thrusting their crotch into the face of another performer, they’re likely to assume that the behaviour is “OK”, and proceed to act out the scenario with fellow toddlers in the playground at the crack of dawn the following day.
Ouch!
ABC was quick on the uptake.
In a terse press statement, they noted that they were canceling a previously-slated performance by Lambert which was to air on “GMA” in the near future.
This response to viewer complaints dove-tailed nicely with prior assurances that they were not aware of the content that was initially planned by Lambert et al.
“ABC had seen Lambert in rehearsals and knew some of what he had planned, but not the extent,” according to an AP report.
Notwithstanding, in any civilized society, care must be taken to ensure that debauchery is not allowed to creep in unchecked, take hold – and ultimately – corrupt our youth.
I applaud the efforts of organizations such as the Parents TV Council for taking a stand on the issues.
In other quarters, the controversial fiasco turned out to have a silver lining, though.
When ABC dropped Lambert with a big thud on their back doorstep, CBS rushed in with welcoming arms, and signed the newly-minted Pop Star for a gig on their not-so-picky open-to-controversy network.
Uh-huh!
Scandal begets ratings, big time!
Just ask Dave Letterman.
In response to all the media hoopla – and viewer outrage – Lambert was surprisingly apologetic.
“They gotta do what they gotta do.”
“It’s too bad, I think that there were a lot of fans who were excited to come see me,” he added somewhat poignantly.
Just maybe, Lambert needs to don a bustier and net stockings to get some respect.
After all, some critics have labelled ABC TV’s actions as hypocritical.
“The network applies different standards to sexual posturing depending on whether the performer is male or female,” one commentator astutedy noted for the record.

Pop Icons like Madonna, Janet Jackson, and Lady Gaga get away with murder in prime time, one internet surfer lamented in a blog post last night, in so many words.
For once, dudes have yet to break through the glass ceiling, in that topsy-turvy show-biz arena!
Scintillating Lambert splintered the heck out of it this week at the AMA’s , that’s for bloody – ooops! – bl**dy sure!
Posted by: Julian Ayrs on: November 25, 2009
Andy Warhol was oft quoted for one astute observation.
“Everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes,” he smugly announced to a disbelieving posse of media hounds way back when in the heady days of his creative heyday.
Today, the thought resonates in every fibre of the being – in an era where global news networks and a glut of reality-TV shows – are now a testament to the man’s insight, vision, and genius.
Golly, with one simple soupcan, Warhol - the manic multi-media artist with the shock of platinum hair – managed to utter up a mind-bending (enlightening) message about the vulgarity of consumerism in one fell swoop.
With his penetrating all-seeing lens, the die-hard New Yorker (zany founder of the infamous film Factory in mid-Manhattan) captured images on celluloid that would touch, disturb, and inspire generations to come.
Now, a series of polaroids Warhol was commissioned to photograph in the late seventies and early eighties for an avid collector Richard Weisman (a good friend) are on exhibit at the Danziger Projects in New York.
The stills of the well-known athletes at the top of their game became known as the “Sport Series”.
During the course of the session, Warhol took three shots, as he was interacting with his subject.
All three captures have been artfully included in the exhibit with the ultimate aim of shedding some insightful light on the Pop Artist’s thought-provoking creative process.
After-the-fact – each image was silkscreened to canvas – and subseqeuntly became the basis for a full-fledged painting.
The tiny images of the athletes – Wayne Gretzky, Mohammed Ali, O.J. Simpson, to name a few – are described as “pure” in nature by excited art-lovers who have caught the show in recent days.
No mean feat, when you can consider that each subject was at the height of their powers, when they granted audience to the notorious madcap artist.
To accomplish that end, Warhol facilitated a Big Shot camera in a studio setting without alot of high tech equipment or gimmicky lighting (which would have been the kiss of death in my estimation).
According to the curator at the Danziger, in the final analysis, Warhol’s polaroids are both a celebration of the greatness of the athletes and an intriguing look at the cleverness of the facade of Warhol so often used to disguise the intelligence and innovation of his work.
Our paths crossed briefly out-of-the-blue one day, shortly after I alighted in New York, to pursue an acting career on stage.
One day I strolled into the 10th Circle (a local watering hole) in the West Village.
On the heels of plunking myself down, and ordering up a brewskie, I swung around on my stool to get a gander at the patrons chug-a-lugging around me.

Suddenly, I caught sight of Warhol chatting up European actor – Helmut Berger – who was working steadily in films at the at the time.
The fey gent in dark glasses peered my way – and I his.
Then, we both sauntered off on our merry way!
No chemistry, I guess.
Well, I confess!
Helmut was pretty masculine (I was just pretty).

Curiously, I ended up being cast in an off-off-Broadway show titled “The Magic Hype”, which was a spoof on the Warhol film characters (with a big focus on Holly Woodlawn and Candy Darling).
The wild musical comedy – performed by the “Hot Peaches” troupe – was primarily written and directed by founder “Jimmy Camicia”.
During the run of the show, legendary Andy Warhol star – Jackie Curtis – popped in to catch the zany fly-by-your-panties production.
In contrast to Andy Darling, Jackie and I hit it off famously.
In fact, at a New Year’s Celebration later that year, we orchestrated a tea-for-two number that brought down the house.
In a post last year, I penned my memoires of Ms. Curtis and the auspicious occasion.
Post: 11/28/07
http://ijulian.blogspot.com/2007/11/jackie-curtiswarhol-star-on-edge.html
Once I left the “Big Apple”, I lost touch with Jimmy Camicia, though.
But, want to hear something astounding?
A few months ago Jimmy was cruising the Internet when he unexpectedly stumbled on my blog (and the post published on Jackie Curtis).
Needless to say, Jimmy zipped off an e-mail to catch up, and we have been in touch ever since.
In fact, the director with the wicked wit and deep creative well, just informed me that he’s been tooling around with his “Hot Peaches” website.
OMG!
Jimmy actually dragged out an old publicity still I am featured in which captured me in a slinky silver sheath-of-a-dress (if you can actually call it that!), silk stockings, wild “do”, and a smattering of make-up.
Darn it!
Just knew that the Hot Peaches stint in NYC would come back to haunt me!
Oh well, I have a good sense of humor.
Gobble it up, why don’t you?
Info: http://www.hotpeachesnyc.com
By the way, Happy Turkey Day!
Posted by: Julian Ayrs on: November 24, 2009
Sexy teen idol Zac Efron is slated to appear on Dave Letterman’s late show tomorrow evening, on Tuesday November 24th.
Of late, there’s been quite a buzz over the heart-throb’s latest flick – “Me & Orson Welles” – which is scheduled for release on Wednesday November 25th.
Undoubtedly, the pretty boy thespian will chat with Dave about the project.
On the weekend, at a Twilight screening, a scintillating teaser of the fictionalized screen-bio on the life of the legendary film director (who I share a birthday with on May 6th along with George Clooney) popped up on screen.
In his role (Efron plays an actor cast by Welles to play a bit part in a stage production of Julius Caesar under the auspices of the Mercury Theatre) the wide-eyed wonder appears for-all-the-world a maturer young man now - without the teen idol trappings inclined to slot him into bubble-gum status forever in the eyes of adoring pubescent teens and latent homosexuals (and out-ones, too).
Judging by the brief clips I caught below the floodlights, Efron appears to be transforming into a major screen persona to reckon with, too.
The plot loosely focuses on a few days in the life of Welles at age 22 (circa 1937).
“Me & Orson Welles” is bound to cause a stir in some quarters (with historians for sure).
According to Jonathan Rosenbaum, the battle over Orson Welles has been raging since long before Welle’s death in 1985.
The heady tomes have run the gamut from hatchet jobs to well-meaning forays into the deepest darkest recesses of Welle’s cerebral world and creative visions.
Two biographers (Barbara Leaming and David Thomson) have speculated that the remarkable auteur was either a radical genius who fell victim to a callous and conservative system or a self-destructive failure who squandered his abundant god-given-gifts.
I’d hazard a guess that it was about fifty-fifty in scope.
It will be interesting to hear what Zac Efron took away from the experience, if anything.
Bottom line?
Never judge a man ’til you’ve walked a mile in his shoes!
Amen.
Posted by: Julian Ayrs on: November 23, 2009
Over the weekend I decided to check out a recent phenomenon on the theatre circuit, when I slipped quietly into an AMC outlet on Wilshire to catch the latest chapter of the ongoing vampire saga titled, ”New Moon”.
The 11 am screening cost me a paltry six bucks!
Once I made the rite of passage, I was then given free reign to choose a plush seat at my own whim, on the heels of snatching up my buttered popcorn and thirst-quenching coke from the gushing attendant at the concession stand.
By the time the lights were snuffed out, and the previews sprang to life on the wide silver screen, there were only about a half-a-dozen theatre-goers in the two-hundred-seat auditorium.
Given the dismal turn out at the early morning show, one might conceivably assume that the main attraction was going to be a dismal bomb, sure to fizzle out at the box office in days to come.
Wrong!
“New Moon”, the third in the Twilight vampire-film series, broke all box-office records on Friday in the wake of its wide release around the country - due in part, to the fact – there were dozens of midnight screenings kicking-off the premiere on Thursday night (November 20th) prior to actual V-Day (Friday November 21st).
In fact, ticket-talliers ecstatically noted today amid screaming headlines, that Twilight’s “New Moon” release attracted the third-highest opening in domestic box-office history.
Through the course of the weekend, ticket sales jumped to a whopping $140.7 million, with no end in sight!
Who are the leaders of the pack?
Only “The Dark Knight” and “Spider-Man 3″ have topped out bigger at the box office in recent years (no doubt buttressed up by an avid fan base comprised largely of young adult males and comic-book aficiandos).
Whether I pen a positive or negative review will be neither here nor there, at this juncture!
Like the energizer bunny, ticket sales will continue to rev up, long after potetial contenders to the throne have packed it in at competing movie-houses ’round town.
Essentially, if you read between the plot lines,”New Moon” is basically the same old same old (a tale of teen angst set against a backdrop of breathtaking natural beauty in a revamped – no pun intended – scenario).
Uh-huh!
Not matter how you cut it – a dollop of passion, love, and emotion in the hearts of young pimply-faced adults – is sure to dredge up a lot of melodrama.
So, fasten your seatbelts, folks – ’cause it’s going to be a bumpy night!
After all, the Twilight sequel has it all in spades.
In “New Moon”, however, Bella – the young heroine – is not just torn between star-crossed lovers.
Gosh no!
Our femme fatale here is forced to choose between a vampire stud and a buffed young dude inclined to transform into a nasty snarling he-wolf once his ire is triggered a tad.
Say, aren’t there any normal down-to-earth dudes to hook up with in the Pacific Northwest, these days?
Heady stuff!
When you get right down to it, the plotline is pretty thin, too.
Much ado about nothing (really!)
This time out, Summit Entertainment hedged its bets on a smattering of male ti*s & a**, to push the
“New Moon” soap (let’s face it, that’s what it is, albeit in a darker vein) over the top.
Judging from the ticket bonanza – and the buzz in social hubs on the internet - the gamble paid off.
In sum, it appears that the American theatre-going public is not put off by half-naked men strutting their stuff, either.
In fact – in this homoerotic action-adventure – the dudes strip buck naked more-often than their sexy (but chaste) ”fully-clad” female counterparts.
The big New Moon “focus” was set squarely on the studly persona of a character by the name of Jacob.
For the greater part of the film, he strutted across the wild country terrain shirtless, looking for all-the-world like an au naturel soloflex advertisement.
Bella, usually a competent actress, was powerless in this episode of the saga - though – when it came to rising above the mediocre brainless material which was so poorly scripted it was downright laughable.
My favorite scene?
When Pattinson’s character alights from a pricey SUV and smugly strolls slo-mo (a-la Babe-watch) across the schoolyard tarmac with locks of beautifully-tressed hair rippling in a slight breeze!
Unfortunately, Robert Pattinson’s character – a big draw for the Twilight audience – was relegated to a camero role this time out.
Big mistake!
A few glimpses of his half-naked torso, ruby-red lipstick-swathered lips, and pancake-makeup smeared face, were not enough to satiate the longings of die-hard Twilight fans who had pined too long for this ceremonious screen event.
Was there a rush at the box office for refunds?
Doubters!
Fans will just sulk and dawdle a while longer ’til the next serial springs to life on the silver screen somewhere down the road.
After the success of this premiere, I’m betting the sequel (prequel?) will be sooner than later.
Meanwhile, I’m framing my ticket stub for posterity.
Who knows, maybe it will be worth a few greenbacks to a collector (aging housewife) in the future, eh?