The unaccountably-still-not-egregiously-annoying Nadia Campbell covers taekwondo, mispronouncing it the English way. You do know that ae in Korean romanization rhymes with gay, right? (Ai rhymes with guy.) Bonus question: How do you think “Hyundai” is correctly pronounced?
Second bonus question: If you buy a Daewoo car or television or some other device, do you call it a Dyewoo?
I didn’t think so.
The stuttering effect at the end of the segment was a bit much. And you know this was essentially a single-source segment, where Nadia shows up with a caméraman(trix), interviews whoever’s there, and calls it a day? Taekwondo Canada is in Ottawa, isn’t it? Couldn’t they have been a useful source?
If Nadyne was away sick, what was she away sick with?
The interview with the two kids in the French-media program revealed yet again that fluent French in Ontario is hardly a requirement if you want to be a French major. And extracting responses from them was like pulling a baby out of a well:
– C’est quoi les histoires que tu voulais raconter, toi? Comme [“like”], une histoire que tu voulais raconter?
– Um... Si... Um... Je...
Note to teachers: “Um” isn’t a French word.
Simply astonishing leathery stippling on Frankie Grisé’s exposed skin areas today. Lay off the T-shirts, and of course the sunshine.
I call ’em as I see ’em: Renée Gallien toned down the vixenisms today, knocked off the tiny sexpot body-language tics, and delivered a solid reportage on two forgettable books. Now try doing that about something worth talking about.
The visit to the Ottawa West Detention French school documented yet again how few Francophones in Ontario can actually speak French.
Fluent, clever stream-of-consciousness opening by Frankie. Very strong. More of this, why don’t you?
Strange quickie interview with some dude from some British band (the Doves). Even stranger, it works. But it was obviously filmed ages and ages ago given Nadyne’s tiny T-shirt, which we see her wearing outside.
Donna Dedans de l’Entertainment continues to work smashingly well. Fun part? Counting the gender, number, and grammatical errors. Anthony Burgess always said pronunciation was more important. This I dispute.
The Ordures Ioniques interview... another nugget from last summer by definition, right? And isn’t that Simon’s voice on the interstitials? (Actually, probably Félix’s.) A couple of them are hot numbers, but their singer is a slattern. Fred’s looking great with the chinstrap beard.
Good to see Mireille back giving financial advice in colloquial but at least native French. We like her. We don’t follow any of her advice, but we like her.
Something to do with videos.
[ INTRO TO MURDERDOLLS’
"DEAD IN HOLLYWOOD" PLAYS ] states the second caption, oddly, in “Dead in Hollywood” by Murderdolls.
Run that Joe Volt fausse pub a few more times. One loves to see Simon act all needy, also rip down Jean-Louis Pecci’s pantalon.
“Stinkfist” by Tool. A bit old, but one can never really get tired. This Tool film is one of the few with recognizably human forms. “I don’t want it. I just need it – to breathe, to feel, to know I’m alive.”
Wait a sec. Raël tells Simon he used to be a journalist obsessed with car racing. Raël and Jean-Sébastien Busque: Separated at birth?
“Come on My Selector” by Squarepusher, that is, Chris Cunningham.
Because of strange overnight schedule overruns, I may have missed parts of this week’s episodes. I have yet again shifted my VCR’s programming.
Frankie in drag as Thérèse Longpré. Destiny asserts itself early.
Reasonably informative segment by Fred on transmission of viruses. The kind that give you a cold. Then of course a discussion of marijuana legalization, since one naturally leads into the other.
By the way, is that something resembling a fauxhawk on Fred today? He needs to trim the back a bit more. Loved his poem about blowing one’s nose!
The show’s working well so far.
Still loving Det. Gomez and Lt. Lalancette. But one question: Would these segments have existed without “Sabotage”?
Fuck me but Frankie can stride manfully in his wymmynz shoes. Who would have imagined?
Not entirely sure about the fausse pub concerning a home invasion. Not-entirely-informative but certainly pleasant segment by Nadia on youth hostels, which I suspect every youth watching the show already knew about.
Frankie stumbled verbally through his intro decrying the lack of serious news in the Toronto Star (it’s actually all in there) despite the fact that his own show hardly specializes in hard news. For that, we have the sepulchral Panorama.
Friendly Rich? He’s still alive?
A rerun of Crystal[“z”] & Monique?
Ultravixenette Renée Gallien talks moisturizer. (CORNFED: I moisturize.) Me, I shake down my dermatologistrix for samples. My purse veritably rattles on the way out. The segment amounted to flat-out product placement (why not compare, for example, the ingredients in el-cheapo and overpriced moisturizers?) but at least did not trigger emesis.
What I don’t get is this latest tawdry bead slipped onto the thread of anticonsumerism Volt has been wearing this entire “season.” Is overspending really worse than, say, drug or alcohol abuse for the teen audience who theoretically watch Volt, and does it occur more often?
Fred takes two anglos shopping. «C’est une paire de pantalons et un sweater»: Your Franco-Ontarian future.
I commend Volt for its unexpected achievement: I can barely figure out what the fuck Carlita & Pétulia are saying half the time. Same with Simone, now that I recall. Seems to be a subtle little self-deprecation at the end of the last segment («Mais je pense que j’aurais pû prendre du gris par exemple»).
Something resembling videos. Except I don’t have it on tape. I know exactly why and could have prevented it. Although interestingly enough I was on TV that day.
Hokey, juvenile segment from Nadia Campbell, who continues to try hard, on snowshoeing, which has the absurd name of raquette in French. What, can you whack a tennis ball with one? Solid information and product placement from the d00d from Coopérative des équipements de montagne.
The still-entirely-superb fausse pub in which Nadyne chews out Félix (everyone’s fantasy, shurely?!) for misreading the “Canada, 1534” Chyron au début du sketch.
OK, one watched the “Volt Mobilité” fausse pub thrice and still does not completely get it. Also, someone’s mic kept getting rustled. I would say that the boy and girl roles are actually reversed, though it’s always nice to see Fred without any clothing. Is he trimming his chest hair? Only tweekerboy fags do that.
Does it have something to do with failure to achieve orgasm?
Howcum the word tabernacle is bleeped but salope is not?
Gossipy historical vignettes about Canadian prime ministers from Nadia. I dunno. I suppose straight-ahead reporting would be a bore.
Voltistes in their underwearz. Shouldn’t Yvon from «La Bande 100 pareil ROCK» be onstage?
Talk about chicken legs. Jeez. Hie thee to the frigging gym.
Then there’s the rest of JS’s body. Stuff your fucking face, uncle-fucker.
Is Fred’s English still crap, by the way?
But, I mean, a superbly-handled segment. Information, opinion, and a bit of verve, all at breakneck speed. Loved inflating the basket of the shorts and blowing it up real good!
Frankie, however, is such a fag. He even wears panties, which of course he finds “très très sexy.”
Me? I’m a longjohns man all winter, and my eight-year-old polypro models simply cannot be beat compared to the paltry, skimpy glorified nylons you can buy these days.
Now, I think Nadia’s report on what are and are not Canadian firms is the sort of thing better suited to a Web site. There’s just too little information; also it needed focus. “Pseudo-Canadian” firms who actually are not would have made a better segment.
Simply appalling segment with the twinkette meat puppet from MuchMusic, who actually is as stupid as she sounds. Her speaking voice in English reeks of the Idiot Generation (too high and back – ask her to pronounce “bad fads” someday). I pine for Christopher Ward.
«Le gars du balcon» has already become repetitive.
A repeat. Already.
Videos, I assume. Why is Francine the hostess rather than Frankie the hostess?
Oh, right. Frankie’s dolled up as a raccoon-eyed hairdresser. Art imitating life, one assumes.
«Dieu se pique» by les Vulgaires machins. “Witness to the Fitness” by Roots Manuva, still bizarre, with even worse captions and very strange subtitles.
«Tu ne peux pas partir» by Caféïne. «Oualalaradime» by Zebda (no relation). “Boom” by Korn.
Where is Sylvain Lavigne?
How is Mathieu Pichette’s dog?
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