Okay, we've already kind of spoken our peace about the celebration of the musical arts b.s. that the American Music Awards and all music award shows claim to be. And, no, we're not music snobs, because half of this craptastic pop music we actually like, but when we listen to it, we know it's the Doritos chips equivalent of audio excellence. It's junk food for the ears. But when Uncle John is in town from Humboldt County, oh, how we crave that junk food.
In contrast, what we do take quite seriously is the bevy of beauties these award shows bring out; divas of all shapes, sizes, backgrounds, origins, and auto-tuned pre-recorded levels that share one thing in common -- we want very badly to make the sexy with them backstage in a closet.
This year's American Music Awards awards for noteworthy excellence in the area of wood making included Selena Gomez, who really stole the show tonight, despite the omnipresence of her 90-lbs of goof tied to her arm, Katy Perry, who has now not shown us her boobs for four full years, Taylor Swift, who still always looks like she's trying to see into the Close Encounters alien ship when the doors open up and the aliens descend (but we still want to make many babies with her), Jennifer Lopez who put on a 40-something body show for the ages, Christina Aguilera, who has seen some hard times, but bonus points for bringing the cleavetastic, Jennifer Hudson and her new bodacious body, Albanian import Bleona Qereti who dropped some silly amounts of boobtastic, ever hot Vanessa Minillo, and non-singers Sarah Hyland and Audrina Patridge who just rev our engines in entirely different ways.
Not a bad showing, AMA's, at least in the area of the visual arts. Enjoy.
Taylor Swift Gets About As Sexy As She Will Allow in Upcoming Vogue
We know there's a silent army out there of Taylor Swift fans. Well, not so silent, we kind of hear the low, plaintiff wails of grunts and groans set against the acoustic backdrop of some truly saccharine country-pop music, but we're currently taking medication to try and eliminate those sounds from our skull.
Nevertheless, you are out there. The Taylor Swifters who endlessly watch the little diva to see if and when some of her innocent girl dresses will rapturously fall to pieces and reveal some Taylor Skin, which I would not recommend holding your breath for, but if you're in midst of auto-erotic asphyxiation over her pictorial in the upcoming edition of Vogue, okay, you might as well keep holding. Pain is pleasure. Enjoy.
EVER SO HARD TO GET TAYLOR SWIFT SKIN, BUT WHEN IT COMES, EPIC