not a turtle

over the shoulder boulder holder

Some of you may remember Mya, or Mýa as she now wishes to be known (which as far as I can tell from three minutes on Google would be correctly pronounced either m-YAAH or mEAR), from her 2003 hit single "My Love Is Like... Wo", her star turn in Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights, or her scenery chewing histrionics in 2002's "Chicago".

Even those of you who don't remember her will be pleased to know that the effervescent young model/actress/singer has decided to put her celebrity to good use. She has recorded the "Stop Breast Cancer for Life" campaign's first ever theme song, a catchy and socially relevant tune entitled "My Bra".

Although I'm all for supporting breast cancer research and/or awareness, I have to say that it is without a doubt the vilest and most saccharine pox ever thrust upon society. Allow me to share with you the chorus:

"My bra my bra my bra my bra
My light at the end of the tunnel
My bra my bra my bra
My legs when I start to stumble
My strength, my sun, my heart
When it's just too hard to take it
When it's just to hard to make it
Through another day
You're lifting me up
My bra my bra my bra"

Now, apart from the seemingly bewildering use of her bra as a metaphor (or substitute) for the love and support of friends and relatives, or her inference that should she be unable to walk, her bra will simply pick up the slack, don't you find it strange that she's singing not about breast cancer, or even breasts themselves, but about an item of clothing which holds the afflicted organs? How long do you think it is before we have Kanye West recording "My Jocks" in support of prostate cancer, or America Ferrera's hit charity single "My Glasses" to raise much needed funds for research into macular degeneration?

But wait kids, there's more. "My Bra" is the centrepiece of an advertising campaign and a much anticipated TV movie.

"...the song appears in the Lifetime original movie The Matters of Life and Dating, a humorous peek into post-mastectomy life starring Ricki Lake and Holly Robinson Peete, airing on Lifetime on Oct 22."

A humorous peek into post-mastectomy life? Okay. I'd buy that starring pretty much anyone else, but Ricki Lake? Have you seen Mrs Winterbourne? and Holly Robinson Peete, whose most impressive resumé entry to date is Hangin' with Mr Cooper? It's all too awful to contemplate.

I'll leave you now with Mýa's heartfelt perfomance of what is bound to be this year's biggest charity single smash, "My Bra".

the one in which the future is foretold...

Several things will happen following the Australian Idol Grand Final next week.
One of the finalists will win. It doesn’t matter which one. My vote goes to Jess, but only because her version of the winner’s single was fantastic. It’s a truly boring paint-by-numbers ballad, but her version was lovely. Damien’s version of the song wasnljdfn.ahaerhg;learuhugv;aerbnadfbhgfdn.h,ny.n,/an,…….ngfn.gfrwetw…………………. Sorry. I momentarily lost the will to live.

Jessica Mauboy will become the fifth member of The Young Divas. They will tour incessantly until they shrivel and die. Some say the sound of a choir is like the voice of God. The sound of four women belting the same note in unison is closer to the voice of satan than anything else on this earth. Don't believe me? Watch this (especially the sections from 1:33-1:52 and 2:16-the end)

This is what happens when you let ex-reality tv stars loose with microphones.

Damien Leith will release an album which he believes is a true work of artistic genius. The press release will compare his songwriting talents to those of Thom Yorke and Chris Martin, and will predict sales in the millions. In reality, the album will sell 30,000 copies. Legitimate music journalists, the discerning record buying public and radio presenters (excluding those on the Austereo Network) will hail the album as the worst thing to happen to australian music since someone allowed Tiffani Wood out of her box and dressed her in ruffles. The album will draw comparisons not with Radiohead and Coldplay, but with Shannon Noll, Tammin Sursok and Kate Alexa. He will fix his teeth and embark on a ridiculously unsuccesful RSL tour (a la Amity "The Block" Dry).

Dean Geyer will be caught hev-ung six-you-wall rill-aye-shonns with teenage boys backstage at a Westfield Parramatta instore appearance. His church will disown him. As for his commercial success, one can only hope that he is horribly disfigured in a freak straightening iron mishap. If not, he will have a wildly succesful pop career lasting all of twelve weeks.

Chris Murphy will wash and cut his hair, shave, brush his teeth and put on a suit. The general public will realise he looks exacly like Courtney, only less enormous. Nobody will care. He will release a shitful album of pub-rock. Nobody will care.

Lavina Williams will record a stunning album, featuring a duet with Marcia Hines, and backing vocals by The Young Divas. Nobody will care. The tabloids will be filled with tales of Lavina's love for crack, vodka, tattoos and the deep moist caverns of Salmon Canyon.

A video of Ricky Muscat being fisted will be leaked onto YouTube. He will go into hiding... at Anthony Callea's house.

Lisa Williams will finish Year 10, leave school and get a job in a pie factory. She will wear an orange plastic apron. The citizens of Albury/Wodonga will build a monument in her honour, and she will forever be known as Our Lisa.

Klancie Keough will lose her life in a tragic sheep dipping accident.

Some of you may ask what will happen to Reigan, Mutto and Joseph. Who are they, again?

Some of you may also notice a distinct lack of Bobby Flynn in this blog post. Let me tell you, no amount of Bobby bashing, however gleeful it might make me, is worth being kicked out of bed for. Munkey, I love you ***obsequious face***