Category Archives: WTF

That One Time I Tried Kentucky Gentleman at a Hipster Dive Bar

Yesterday night I had my first encounter with the whiskey-colored mouthwash colloquially known as Kentucky Gentleman. It was mixed with Diet Coke and came in a plastic cup and was served up in what’s probably the only appropriate setting to drink KG after you’ve graduated from college: the black-and-red-decorated, slightly sticky, very dark interior of Black Cat.

It came after several drinks (including a boozy Coke float that sadly was too much ice cream and whipped cream and various other cream products and not enough booze for my taste)—but even my buzz couldn’t dull my taste buds enough to prevent the insult. Granted, I got about halfway through the plastic cup before I asked my friend what in God’s name I was drinking. It tastes like rubbery fire or fiery rubber with possibly a whiff of Red Hots and pennies mixed in. My friend informed me Kentucky Gentleman only comes in plastic gallon jugs, I’m assuming because it’s brewed in rusty bathtubs by actual Kentucky gentlemen in the darkest recesses of the forest. My friend came by this knowledge by drinking copious amounts of KG in college, which he says is because he was too poor to afford anything else but which I really think is because he had a death wish. Kentucky Gentleman also, weirdly, reminds me of Johnny Walker Red, which is quite a few shelves up but shares the same taste of brimstone and crushed dreams.

So yeah, I think I will be adding this distinguished spirit to my ever-lengthening list of Things I Probably Never Want to Drink Again, where it can rub elbows with illustrious company like Jager, SoCo-lime shots, and Carlo Rossi jug o’ sangria. Farewell, Kentucky Gentleman. I hardly knew ye. (But I know I don’t like ye.)



This morning, New York mag’s website featured a story titled “What Will the Fashion World Do With Kim Kardashian?” It was a well-written article, partially an examination of the snobbery directed at Kim from select fashion-world heavyweights. Supposedly some designers refuse to dress her, seeing it as a debasement of their talents. Supposedly Anna Wintour has banned her from the Met Gala. Supposedly.

The more interesting part to me is the author’s musings on Kim Kardashian as a construct—or Konstruct, I guess. She’s built a multimillion-dollar, multifaceted empire—nail polish, klothing lines, reality show, product endorsements—ostensibly on the charms of her personality but really on the utter lack of shame that allows her to televise every moment of her life, crowdsource every decision, and embrace her own hype so completely the distinction between genuine and fake not just disappears but ceases to even matter.

I’m not a fan of reality TV to begin with, and I am especially unenthused about the inescapable Kardashians. I have not seen any of the family’s shows, nor do I ever plan to. But still I find myself simultaneously repelled and fascinated by the family. Their popularity represents so much of what’s awful about American culture, but, to lean on a kliché, it’s like witnessing a train wreck—you just can’t look away.

Voyeurism is increasingly becoming an inescapable part of our lives, between all those different social media platforms, the ubiquity of camera phones, and those reality shows that spawn one another like a virus. I guess it’s no wonder then that a family so hell-bent on exposing every private detail (they don’t even take off their mikes to go to the bathroom) has won if not adoration from the masses, then at least a reluctant, twisted interest.


Wait, What? True Blood Episode Five

I’m getting somewhat disturbed by how rape and incest are emerging as two of the major themes of this season. Between Bill’s great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter citing the repeal of anti-incest laws to convince her distant ancestor to do her, and Jason’s turn as a literal stud for inbred teenagers, the ick factor keeps mounting. But the WTF-worthy moments of episode five (“Me and the Devil”) were even more ridiculous and awesome than usual. Here are my favorites:

“I found him by the dumpster.”
Awesome diversionary tactic: Tommy busting out from the back of the van as a bloody-mouthed gator. I’d bet a good amount of money Sheriff Andy needed a new pair of khakis after that one.

“Gators love marshmallows. You should know that.”
Another excellent Sam Merlotte line—and if you don’t believe him, ask Stephen Colbert.

“Hoyt.” “Jason.” “Hoyt.” “Jason.” “HOYT.”
I don’t really understand how a side effect of being used as a sexual chew toy by a clan of hillbilly werepanthers is having a hilariously homoerotic dream about your best friend and his vampire girlfriend. But apparently bloodsucking, albeit imagined, is now symbolic for wet dreams, as well as all those other heavy-handed metaphors that have been thrown around through the seasons. Still, yay! Godric!

A couple more things I wanted to mention: Tyra’s well-deserved angry speech to Sookie. Finally, finally, someone is calling her on her endless shit. Vampire priests—did I forget that in the True Blood universe, crosses don’t affect vamps? According to Bill, the Catholic Church = Google and Fox News. And finally, another eeeewwww: Arlene and Terry have satin sheets!

What did I miss?

Wait, What? True Blood Episode Four

Apologies for being late on this one—but the good news is you’ll be getting two at once. Without further ado, the most WTF-worthy moments from episode four of True Blood (“I’m Alive and On Fire”).

Eric’s drunk-on-fairy-blood romp in the lake.
His huge, shit-eating grin and delivery of the line “Hi Sookie!” like a little kid at Chuck E. Cheese? Priceless. I’ll even grudgingly admit that Sookie’s “There’s big gators in there, you crazy Viking!” was pretty excellent, too.

“Sex is kinda gross, but it feels good, don’t it? Tell Uncle-Daddy Felton all about it.”
Eeeeeeewwwwwwwwww. Television Without Pity called this plot line the “grossest thing we’ve seen on TV in a long time,” and with a line like the above, how could you disagree? Also, what exactly are these panther thingies again? They’re just like werewolves but of the jungle cat variety? And since apparently both species can just transform whenever they want, what does the full moon have to do with anything?

Baby not yours.
Yes! Finally, something is happening here. I have a secret soft spot for storylines involving creepy little kids, and while the scrawled magic marker was sort of cheesy, the slanted ceiling camera angle was appropriately menacing, and it’s at least giving Arlene and Terry’s sad little life a bit of juice. My money is on it actually being one of her other brats who’s possessed. (Also is it just me, or does Baby Rene look a smidge like Baby Toby from the Labyrinth?

Wait, What? True Blood Episode Three

So, episode two was actually pretty great. And the way it ended, with a shirtless Eric roaming the streets like a lost puppy with great pecs, I was looking forward to another fast-paced, suspenseful hour of camp. Instead, episode three was mostly…meh. The Plot Lines I Don’t Give a Shit About are tallying up fast, especially since so many of them are just spinning their wheels. (Seriously, please give Carrie Preston something to do besides furrow her brow at her potato-faced child and drawl, “That boy ain’t raight.”) Still, there was plenty of WTF-ery to go around. Here are my top three:

Vampire puns (which henceforth will be referred to as fang slang)
Okay, my love of puns is well documented, and any Bill/Jessica interaction is always welcome. But word play as terrible as the examples below, when delivered with utter deadpan seriousness, skip right over “so bad it’s funny” and land squarely in a steaming pile of “just so bad.”
Sookie: “Technically, you fang-raped me.”
Bill: “Jess….vamp up.” Seriously? SERIOUSLY? I can’t even.

Crystal’s pharmacology lesson
“It’s Mexican Viagra. Not that you need it.” Have truer words ever been spoken about Jason Stackhouse? Also, on an unrelated note, I can never look at Crystal without thinking of a line I once read in a book (which book, I can’t remember) about a “whey-faced woman.”

The legend of Ghost Daddy (or whatever)
Honestly, I can’t even tell you whether this deserves a spot in the top three WTF moments, because I am so bored with this plot line that I tuned out about 30 seconds in. At least now I have some built-in time every week to file my nails.

Overall a boring episode—but one redeemed more than slightly by the insanely fabulous spiked-shoulder jacket Pam wears in the Fangtasia basement scene. That thing no doubt costs more than a kidney and my first-born child combined, and yet I would happily trade both of those things to own it. (Are you listening, Black Marketers?)

So, which WTF-worthy moments did I miss?

Wait, What? True Blood, Episode Two

I first encountered True Blood as a season-one box set on the free table at an internship venue. Since then I’ve had a love/hate relationship with the show, yet for some damn reason I just can’t stop watching it—probably because the plot lines get steadily more ridiculous (and ASkars gets steadily hotter, though I’m not even sure how it’s possible).

Herewith, for your enjoyment, I will be posting a weekly “Wait, What?” guide to the most WTF-worthy moments of each episode. As I’m a bit behind, I’ll be posting for the first three episodes this week, so hopefully by the time episode four airs I’ll be up to date.

Episode Two

Bill’s Sid Vicious impression
Though I give props to the writers for managing to shoehorn in his natural Brit accent.

The return of Bill and Sophie’s Matrix-style showdown
Seriously, basing a climactic scene on a so-last-millenium Keanu Reeves movie? You can do better, AB.

Jason’s cat-tastic three-way
Sex panther: 80 percent of the time it works all the time. Would you call this a menagerie-à-trois?

What did you think?