Raw City Home Lounge

Maite’ and I have made our annual trek across the desert to Las Vegas, the town of our collective youths.

Santa and Friends!

I generally don’t get that warm holiday spirit until I’m in the deep desert and can see the lights of the Strip sparkling up at me as I rocket across the 15.   Not ironically, Christmas to me is a cacophony of intoxicating neon, showgirls in red velvet, gaudy casino carpets, and hicks in monster trucks.

Maite’s Christmas is mobs of relatives, Cuban delicacies (yum yum yucca!), and big fuzzy scarves.

Ultimately, of course, we dig in with our respective families, open presents (fewer this year than last) and generally revel in the gratitude we each share at how lucky we are.  But the only snow we’ll see is when we gaze at the mountaintops way out on the horizon; the only jingle bells are the ringing of the slots.

But I gotta tell ya and trust me when I say it; those sights and sounds make us warm and smiley and grateful and full of the holiday spirit.  I could be knee deep in pine trees and woolen mittens and mistletoe and holly wreaths and it wouldn’t make me feel even remotely festive.  I need the desert and the stuccoed houses and the cactus and the blackjack.

I guess the idea of a “traditional American holiday” is based more on what each of us brings to it than the images foisted upon us, either by the advertisers or our own misconceptions.

So Maite’ and I wish you all of that, whatever it is, whatever it is that makes you feel all yummy and good and hopeful and grateful.

And just because I’m writing this, here is a completely gratuitous picture of a hot showgirl in red velvet.

There's no way Maite' will let me post this...

By JD Roberto

This is the third in a series about the reality of reality TV.  -Daniel

By the end of the first episode of any season of Big Brother, even the casual viewer can readily identify the cast of characters.   By the first reward challenge on a new round of Survivor, we can look at the tribes and easily pick out the racist, the bitch, the flamboyantly gay guy, the crotchety old guy, the hottie , the gross “don’t let him hug you” guy.

And, not surprisingly, just like you can look at the Bible thumping Mom from Iowa and the pre-op transsexual from West Hollywood and see a train wreck in the making, so can the folks responsible for delivering 44 minutes of great TV to your living room every week.

Kennedy, JD Roberto, Elvira. (All five of them in one great pic!)

The casting department of a reality TV show has a unique and demanding job to do.   Not only do they have to cull through thousands, sometimes tens of thousands of submissions, but they have to do so with an eye toward more than appearance and resume.   Unlike a traditional casting session in which producers are looking for “hunky doctor #2” for three lines on Grey’s Anatomy, reality casting directors are trying to assemble an ensemble of possible storylines.

It’s a kind of chemistry lab in which the staff tries to guess what Contestant A will be like when combined with Contestant B and the later arrival of Constant C.

Yes, they want a certain demographic spread and  it doesn’t hurt to have people that look good wearing very little – but it’s the chemistry and interaction that make the drama.  Without a cast of characters in whom casting directors see possible fireworks, alliances, friendships, affairs and fights – they know they have no show.

Moreover, casting directors (hand in hand with producers) are trying to do this job while following a story outline set down before the season even starts.

Wait,  what!? A story outline on reality TV!?!

You bet.  (on an unrelated side note, there’s no Santa Clause. Bah, hum bug).

But despair not.  This isn’t the ‘all reality TV is fake’ bombshell you might like to think.  It’s a necessary part of creating an entertaining season of reality TV and it actually creates an environment that encourages the unexpected, authentic and unscripted.

A.  carnivorous insect similar to a Slug, which attaches itself to the genitals of small male dogs on hiking trails.

endangered slubacious greenadipod

B.    A faux finish on Veneers to reproduce the graining patterns of exotic woods such as Zebra Wood or Paduk.

C.     A small lump or nub in a yarn, which gives a rough texture to fabric.

click here to see the definition answers (no cheating!)

definitions courtesy of merrium webster

I remember many a picture from my youth, sitting on Ye Olde Santa @ various malls–the screaming baby, the mezmerized kindergardener, and the awkward toothless, bad-haired eight-to-ten stage (Daniel claims to have never gone through this stage; I know better, people, I know better…).   Looking back at those photos now with my eagle designer eye, I see those Santa thrones weren’t really quite as majestic as the mini Maite saw through those dewy, young, still-believin’-in-Santa eyes.

No, what I see now are thrones that were already probably decades old, with worn velvet arm rests where the poor Santa rubbed his hands hour after hour from anxiety, heat, and boredom.  Little flecks of gildiness are missing from the grand carved legs where bullies may have kicked or where giddy  little girls with those patent leather (plastic?) shoes swung their nervous heels back and forth, chip,chip, chip.  Maybe even a few candy-cane-colored stains from little hands, dripping in Christmas candy and spittle.

DOESN’T SANTA DESERVE BETTER THIS YEAR?

He deserves something he can look sophisticated and wise in, something that gives a little back support, with a firm cushion to support all our, um, robust American Youth these days.  Santa deserves something that makes all those divorcees stop and look at the poor guy in a new light.

Send us your sexiest santa chair selections, or your worst Santa pic (I’m still negotiating with my mother to send me one.)  Send in your votes, and the winner gets a prize!!

Here’s my chair entry:

Maite's Santa Chair entry. Santas can get one at Mortise & Tenon!

P.S. If you don’t play along, there will be coal in your stocking this year!

Maite

And purple?  C’mon…  Purple is that guy who wears a shirt with skulls and roses on it, who was born with a trust fund but listens to hip hop ’cause it “speaks to him.”  Purple is that house at the end of your block with way too many holiday decorations every year.  Purple drives a Hummer.

Green, though, hold me back, kid, and make no mistake; green is one of only two colors that can be either warm OR cool, depending on the tone (the other one is purple, but I’ve covered that ground.)  Green is not just a color, it’s a movement.  Green is fresh breezes and healthy food, green is sexy Irish eyes (on a redhead) and chilling, scary eyes (on a witch.)

Go now, young one, and feast your orbs on the awesomeness that is green…

Green, Earthy awesomeness

sexy green yummyness

epic green kung fu badassery..

Totally pimpin'....

Dramatic when it needs to be...

It's not, as we all know, EASY being green...

But worth the effort, the awesomeness is!

We love this pillow from pillowpillowpillow by Aaron Stuart h Toys.  If you have a pet and are trying to be eco-friendly, check out their site.

Pink Cha Cha