Two Steps Back

Controversy has taken centerstage on Fox's hit reality TV show American Idol. Wednesday, ABC's Primetime Live showcased a critical report stating that former Idol contestant Corey Clark had a secret romance with Idol judge Paula Abdul. Abdul has straight up denied any state of attraction and swears that she gave no favors to the young crooner including a new wardrobe, prescription cough medicine and sex, lots and lots of sex. In the wake of the controversy, however, a former colleague has emerged with some personal insight and fresh allegations against the bubbly pop diva, and according to MC Skat Kat there's darkness hiding behind Ms. Abdul's cheery exterior. DoaCD caught up with MC Skat Kat while he was choreographing a Fresh Step commercial in SoHo, New York.

Gayest Neil: Tell me Mr. Kat--
MC Skat Kat: Call me Skat.
GN: Ew. Ok. Skat, when did you first meet Paula Abdul.
MC: It was down in Compton. I was there doing my thang, some street dancing, some hustling, playing the numbers. I was barely a kitten. Well, I hears about dis gal named Paula Abdul, all exotic and shit. She was in town doin' the little club circuit at the time. So I'm all like I'll check her shit out.
GN: And your first impressions?
MC: She was a'ight. Kind of whiney in her singing, ya know? But there was something there. I knew dis gal was gonna be big. Good dancer.
GN: You admired her dancing?
MC: Damn straight. She had some moves! I met her outside the club and says 'Ms. Abdul, my name's MC Skat Kat and I'm a dancing, cartoon cat. We're going to be famous.' And she's all smoking a bong and says--
GN: Skat, you're alleging Ms. Abdul was smoking marijuana?
MC: Damn straight. She's all high and her eyes are lazy and she's like 'Hey kitty, get in my fucking limo!' So I do.
GN: Incredible. What happened next?
MC: Well a few months later her career took off and before I knows it I'm in Paris, Milan, Dallas, all the far away places with her on tour.
GN: Tell me about your relationship with Ms. Abdul.
MC: It was good to begin with. . . i guess. She was my homegirl, but we was more than all that.
GN: Were you in love?
MC: Shit sissy. I ain't the type who falls in love. But with her, yeah, it was different, you know?
GN: Do you think Paula Abdul see's something in bad boys? Like you and Mr. Clark?
MC: (choking up) I told myself I wasn't going to cry. . .
GN: Let's talk the video for Opposites Attract.
MC: That video be my proudest moments. I remembers me and Paula was practicing some steps and making a dance and she puts down her bong and goes 'Kitty, I'll take two steps forward...' and I says 'I'll take two steps back...' and it just clicked. And she asked me to be in the video.
GN: You must have been proud.
MC: Dis be a natural fact. I was proud a'ight. But I had no idea what a cold hearted, jealous bitch Paula was. In 1990 "Opposites Attract" went on MTV. I became a household name! I'd go out and all the finest pussy be like 'Ooh Skat Kat, let me spray my scents on you!' and 'Ooh Skat Kat, come fuck me with your barbed, feline penis.'
GN: Tell me about the 1991 Grammy awards.
MC: "Opposites Attract" won the best video award. I wasn't invited. I wasn't there. I didn't get shit.

GN: But you have credit in the video!

MC: Paula's lawyers made sure I disappeared. She says to me, 'Kitty, I'm sorry, but you're getting too big.' The next morning she was gone. I never heard from her again.

GN: What happened next?

MC: Me and my old crew, the Stray Mob, we made us a record "The Adventures of MC Skat Kat and the Stray Mob".

GN: It didn't sell very well?
MC: Hell no! Paula's posse made sure of that. She was leaving messages telling me not to fuck with her and to stop using her dance moves. That move is half mine you bitch. I'm gonna kill her! I mean it this time!

GN: So you did hear from her again after she left you?

MC: Bitch, who the fuck are you? Barbara Walters?
GN: Finally, where do you see MC Skat Kat ten years from now.

MC: If I'm not dead, I'll probably be living in a trash can eating rotting pigeons and McDonald's french fries. My life ain't too good right now. Hey, maybe that Corey Clark kid can call me up and we can do a video or something?

Will always love you...

Oh Whitney. Oh Whitney, Whitney, Whitney. Oh Whitney. Lord Girl. Oh Whitney. Girlfriend you're back in rehab? Did you ever leave? Oh Whitney...

You are ever so beautiful and fabulous because you smoke weed in line at the airport, snort cocaine on ABC and pistol whip security guards and you LOVE it. I know you do because we do too. That is to say, we love to love you doing those ghetto-ass triflings. (I do so love pistol whipping security guards though.)

Hell girl, we even thought you was DEAD! Ya'll remember when Whitney was supposed to be dead? Even her publicist had to verify she wasn't dead.

Darling, you need some help, not to mention a new publicist. I'm so happy you are back in rehab. You're simply making this too easy for me. OK. Here's what's happening now in the raucous, joyous life of Whitney Houston.

Well our onetime greatest love of all is, did I mention, back in rehab. Missus Bobby Brown has admitted to pill popping , reefer madness and powdering her nose. She's even smoked her coke IN her weed! Come on Whitney, the night is young. That's like dropping acid while shooting up between your toes. If you're gonna get high, take your time. Sample the buffet. No need for your rare roast beef to bleed into your strawberry shortcake.

Could you imagine? "Aw shit. Whitney is coming over. Ya'll hide the coke, the 'shrooms, and the speed til we're done smoking out. And remember, one at a time or she'll use it all at once." Although I must admit, having Ms. Houston in my living room would certainly make for a wild evening. I wonder who she'd most likely play in Clue? My guess would be Colonel Mustard.

Now in her defense, she still sticks by her assertion from the infamous "Primetime" interview with Diane Sawyer that she didn't smoke crack rock:

"I make too much money to smoke crack. Let's get that straight. Crack is whack."

Whatever Whitney. Your lips were so ashey and your eyes so wild, I panicked for poor Diane. I was certain you were two flicks of a Bic away from stabbing her for a crisp Benjamin. (I love it when I use my street slang. I sound soooo very urban.)

So now you're off to rehab. You were just in rehab a year ago sister, and there's no shame in that. Maybe in rehab you'll have a nice steady diet so you won't aggrivate that gastroenteritis that made you so sick back in February. Gastroenteritis? Yeah, right. Is that something you can catch through a crackpipe? Nope. Don't see gastroenteritis on the crackpipe website. Don't you love the internet?

Yes and I can't help but love Whitney Houston too. Please Whitney get better. Then please fall back off the wagon, again and again. We got to look up to someone.

Masturbator of the Universe

First it was a shitty Garfield remake and now He-Man is set to make a big screen revival at the fast grasshopper-style Hong Kong action director hands of John Woo. What’s next? Will VICKI the robot girl make it to the silver screen in a cinematic adaptation of TV’s “Small Wonder”?

Harvey, have your people call my people. That could be big!

Why Woo, why? Why? Cause 1980’s fetishism is, like, totally bad to the bone. And Mattel has bins of He-Man toys collecting dust in far away Chinese warehouses. They must be sold. America’s little boys need half naked, muscle men with giant glistening swords to pound against one another.

May I remind you the last movie was sooooooooooo bad? By Orko’s hat it was so bad! Dolph Lundgren was the worse He-Man ever (at least until Woo’s remake, err revisioning. I’m not sure).

I still don’t understand why he had a laser pistol. A fucking laser pistol? He-Man has the Sword of Eternia! He-Man never used a stupid laser pistol! That’s been simmering on my stove for decades now.

And poor little Courtney Cox with frizzy 80’s hair, she was a mess. Why risk it, John Woo? Why gamble the He-Man franchise and a generation’s collective memory with what could be a second resoundingly crappy film?!

Green screens and martial arts could help the special effects, but I’d wager it’s all going to come down to the casting and unfortunately the muscle bound macho action star has been replaced by the witty, doe-eyed mama’s boy. In 1984 Arnold and Dolph reigned supreme. Twenty years later, the action stars are skinny little nerds like Toby Maguire or Jude Law. Let them play She-Ra. Where ever will you find a suitable He-Man? Not The Rock! By the Power of Grayskull anyone but The Rock. PLEASE!

This whole project sounds fraught with perils as deadly as Hordak’s green slime pit. Atleast casting Skeletor will be easy. Check out most gay porn and you’ll find any number of suitable steroid pumped actors with skeletal, wasting faces.

Ouchies, that was a bit harsh.

Well John Woo best of luck. I certainly will see your fucking film, but I won’t buy your merchandise. At least I won’t open and play with any of the toys I might buy. It would ruin their collectibility and in twenty years who knows how fetishized the 2000’s will be?

Women of Mass Destruction

An unnamed television insider reported an exclusive tidbit that Hollywood producers are fast on track launching a new all-female, action vehicle called WMD, Women of Mass Destruction, to be released as a Fox midseason replacement.

The espionage series stars tinsel town newcomers, Rihab Rashid Taha as herself, the Iraqi biochemist known as “Dr. Germ” and Huda Salih Mahdi Ammash, an Iraqi biotech researcher also playing herself as “Mrs. Anthrax”.

When asked how Fox secured such high profile stars, our insider replied, “Let’s just say the Hollywood machine is a little more sophisticated than those kooks doing all that beheading.”

Well here’s a heads-up: word is these gals are going to set Hollywood on fire, possibly literally!

Said our insider, “They have timing and they have spunk. We’re going to see these two on the big screen someday.” That is if they don’t get arrested again. While on location, production halted when Dr. Germ unleashed a gangrene gas bomb at the craft services table, melting three extras and blinding twelve.

Said an intern, “You know, stars have their tempers, but Germie was a trooper. She got right back into the scene and made sure production wrapped, not only early that day, but she brought brownies too. No one ate the brownies though.”

Located in the fictitious country of Irakistan, WMD centers around three Islamic spies who take global missions of terror from a mysterious voice who they only refer to as “Mr. O”. Dr. Germ is the brains of the operation. Mrs. Anthrax is the muscle and Trixie provides the much needed comic relief. Trixie is played by television’s Kathy Griffin. I caught up with Griffin on the set during a routine dog sweep.

“Oh my God! I mean, oh my Allah! Rihab and Huda are a hoot to work with. These ladies keep you on your toes. That’s for sure.

“For instance, I came out of my trailer last week and there was Huba all staring at me. I’m like, ‘Hey Huba, you want to practice our scene?’ And she’s like, ‘I’m going to cut out your tongue you Israeli whore!’

“And she jumps me with this knife and I’m like ‘Huba, relax! I’m not Jewish. I’m Catholic!’ Well, she beat the shit out of me and we had a good laugh about it later that day.

Laughs are plenty in the show as Griffin’s comic knack and Dr. Germ’s deadpan create a Three’s Company meets the Faces of Death. “Matched with action scenes involving actual Americans killed on screen, WMD straddles the line between serial and reality television,” said executive producer Dick Cheney.

“Reality is here to stay and yes we’ve gotten some flack about real Americans dying by these wacko broads’ hands, but America has to realize this could happen to them any day at any moment. Seeing it on television only reinforces that. Vote Bush.”

I don’t know about the voting for Bush, but we do know this show is going to be DA BOMB!

Arnold Schwarzen-LAME-r

Arnold Schwarzenegger, I’m calling you out, bitch!

How dare you call Democrats “girlie-men”? Not only did you dis gays and women, you resorted to a tired SNL catch-phrase.

For shame Gropenator! For shame!

You were once known as the Muscle from Bruxelles? Guess what Arnie, your 70’s nude workout tape is part of my vintage porn collection. “Masculine Erotica” my ass! There you are oiled, flexing, pumping, naked, nude, erect and… whoah, is it cold outside. Do you need a little blue pill? You have a lot of nerve calling the Democrats “girlie men”.

Ahem, I have you freeze-framed on my TiVo right now! I called up Monica Lewinski and we had some girl talk. She quickly concurred that atleast one Democrat has you beat hands and pants down.

I feel your pain!

The state assembly won’t pass your ridiculous budget? Guess what, Conan? It’s not 1985. Three blonde chicks, eight lines of cocaine and a movie opening don’t solve everything these days. I’ll admit it can solve a lot. But those bleached white surfboard teeth only get you so far…

Governor, you are playing a dangerous game. You piss off the gays and who then will fix up your fake hair and spray on your tan? Exactly.

You want to know how to cajole the Democrats?

Tell them you love them. We’re only seeking someone to tell us we’re right. We need our Republican parents to accept our wacky lifestyles. Tell us you understand where we’re coming from, even if only once. We’re not crazy radicals. We’re not just whale-saving lunatics. We just want a world where we can all hang out man and like, be one with nature and stuff. Yeah, cause, like you guys with the money, you don’t know what it’s like living on the streets.

And as that little Liberal tells you his sob sorry, just nod and pat him on the back. I know you can do compassionate. I saw you do it at the end of “Diehard.” What? That wasn’t you? Ah damn, I’m sooo sorry!

That Bruce Willis, now HE should be in office because you are an oafish clod. For crying out loud, you ran against Gary Coleman!

WHATCHU TALKIIN’ BOUT, GAYEST NEIL?

Granted, you have a magnetic personality and, in your day, I’m sure you smacked more than one ho. But you can’t do that anymore. It’s a changed world. People are sensitive to us gays, and women and titties. In Conan 2, Grace Jones was falling out of that fur bikini. She was such a fierce, powerful African American role-model for young gay boys to emulate. Well, nowadays a sistah shows her titty and everyone’s yelling about fines. What happened to you? Maria Shriver sunk those talons in, cut off that little dick and neutered herself an Austrian bull. Do they have bulls in Austria? I know they have skirt-chasing pigs! One’s the governor of California!

I’ll break it down for you, big guy: Today’s America needs less “Red Heat” and a lot more “Kindergarten Cop”, but doing so makes you look stupid in front of the cool kids, the Liberals. You joined their side when you signed the line.

And keep your filthy conservative rhetoric to yourself. Don’t forget your first paycheck was 70’s gay porn. And Arnold, the next time you crack-wise about “girlie men”…

I’ll… be… back… bitch!

Village Idiot

M. Night Shamster, you owe me $11.50!

I saw your “supernatural”, “suspenseful” and “frightful” film The Village. This pile of poo-poo centers on a Ye Olden Times colonial village. There’s way-too-clean vaguely Quaker extras tending to fields, praying, making oatmeal. What else do Quakers do? All the while terrorized by creepy boogey men in red capes and spindly claws, but the only thing deadly here was my boredom.

The star of this snoozer is Joaquin Phoenix’s Mole. Joaquin Phoenix’s Mole pouts and emotes. Mole obviously studied Method acting. I hope Joaquin Phoenix’s Mole gets an Oscar nod because it’s all I watched during this whole friggin’ movie!

Speaking of talent, I’m sad William Hurt and Sigourney Weaver have to work at a Ye Olden Times Quaker village re-creation, but I'm even sadder when it turns out the boogey men are fake! They’re actually the elders scaring the villagers into Quaker submission. TERROR, TERROR, TERROR may be topical, but totally lame-o. Boo Mr. Shampoo, boo!

YOU THINK THAT'S HOKEY? GET THIS!

It’s not even really set in Ye Olden Times. M. Night Shama-lama-ding-dong’s signature surprise ending: it’s modern day! The village elders have somehow built a fake village in a Pennsylvania wildlife preserve in order to keep their loved ones safe from the dangers of modern 21st century society. Dangers like TERROR, TERROR, TERROR! Must they rely on deadly mall Santas as their agents of chaos?

Luckily, a blind girl travels through the spooky woods, kills a fake hedgehog man, climbs a chain link fence, waves down a park ranger and gets the medicine The Village requires, thus keeping the secret for future generations of Ye Olden Times Quaker extras.

Joaquin Phoenix’s Mole is fascinating nonetheless.