Oh the ironing

Coon be all like "watcha lookin at honky"

Something about Bad Romance

Esquire: Hi folks, I'm Esquire, your lecherous neighborhood furry.

Crowbar: Hi, I'm Crowbar. I'll be administering painkillers throughout this experience.

Esquire: Let's begin this trek through the swamp of Gaga videos shall we?

Crowbar: Lady Gaga, with approximately half the douchebags of the internet present.

Esquire: Is that guy on the right the wimpy cousin of Juggernaut?

Crowbar: The crash helmet keeps him FABULOUS!

Esquire: On the floor there is the amount of acid Lady Gaga and her compadres dropped.

Esquire: Fuck, what do you think the casting call for this video was like?

Crowbar: We need guido douches, dancers of unclear gender and a bunch of gay cenobites, stat!

Crowbar: I just realized that there's a dalmation in these shots. I'm willing to call that animal cruelty.

Esquire: Maybe the dog is on dognip or something

Crowbar: As you can tell, readers, Esquire's knowledge on dogs only extends to how to effectively waterboard them.

Esquire: LET ME DREAM

Esquire: I can't see shit!

Crowbar: Frankly, it's better if she can't see. She might kill herself out of the shame of being Lady GaGa and creating another freakish video.

Esquire: I think her glasses are based on primitive logic, if she can't see you, you can't see her.

Crowbar: I think it's less about being primitive and more about being high as a fucking kite.

Esquire: You wait until the future, when we have an uglier Gaga doing more strange things like castrating otters with a spoon onstage until eventually Chris Crocker dumps his face in a bucket of makeup and tells us to leave Gaga alone.

Crowbar: Your weekend activities continue to horrify and astound me, Esquire.

Crowbar: Hah! Did you think I was exaguerating about the gay cenobites?

Esquire: Worst "Where the Wild Things are" adaptation ever

Crowbar: ZALGO

Esquire: I KEEP TELLING YOU ABOUT THE GREY HYBRIDS CROWBAR!

Crowbar: This is your brain on GaGa

Esquire: I can't wait until Gaga is actually a drug. I would snort it and then I would have Kofka-esque dreams involving cacti and a lampshade.

Crowbar: Yeah, like you don't already

Esquire: Japanese game shows and expired olives are a dangerous mix

Crowbar: This shot manages to be extraordinary in this collection of drug hallucinations by being the most boring one.

Esquire: Are you kidding? You can totally see her upper thighs! Actually, if anything this is the most attractive Gaga ever gets in this video.

Esquire: The fanciest horse tranquilizers in the west!

Crowbar: The more I watch this video, the more I find myself wondering if this is Lady GaGa's daily routine. "Wake up, get administered high-octane drugs, dance with cenobites."

Esquire: Wash Mangina

Crowbar: Get video poked fun of by half-arse internet humoursmiths.

Esquire: This is a deep video, but if you look deep enough, it's a shallow Gaga wank, and if you look deeper, you see her fathers shocked face.

Crowbar: Lady Gaga attacked by rabid transvetites! News at 9.

Esquire: If you thought purgatory was boring, think again

Esquire: Why is she wearing a hessian sack?

Crowbar: I imagine she's got an onion on her belt.

Esquire: Like a cer-tee-fyed Bosnian!

Esquire: Certified Ballchinian Armor

Crowbar: The reason he's so stoic is that he's regretting the life that led to this point. "Oh no, I'm in a Lady GaGa video, what has my life come to?"

Esquire: The armor stops him from making a contorted grimace of terror.

Esquire: It's how much they are paying to get GaGa AWAY from them

Crowbar: Well, we're about the halfway mark now, and I'd like to take the moment to express my ire for both this song and whatever the fuck a Vevo is. Its only function seems to be making Youtube videos load at glacial pace.

Esquire: You is talkin' funny talk

Esquire: What kind of currency is that?

Pollers?

Penillers?

Mangollars?

Crowbar: Penises, the fun currency of GaGaLand.

Esquire: Are they actual penises, or simply a form of opression the bourgeois force upon the working man?

Crowbar: They can be both.

Esquire: I had a lizard that had crawled behind my wardrobe, and when we finally moved it after about a year, the lizard was perfectly preserved, it's skeleton was crushed to paper thin. This is what it looked like.

Crowbar: This is the part of the video where everyone throws up their hands and says, "You know what? Let's stop pretending this makes sense and let Lady GaGa direct it."

Esquire: Wait, so she wasn't before? So there are more of her kind?

Crowbar: Those were normal people on methamphetamines. You have to be hopped up on drugs to be Lady GaGa in her normal state.

Esquire: That would explain the hair that looks like something you might hang onto if your plane went down in the middle of the ocean.

Crowbar: This is the same outfit the duke of Crazy Town wears.

Esquire: They don't have a duke, they just have a donkey in sexy lingerie.

Crowbar: My dress is a bear, your argument is invalid

Esquire: The expression of anyone who gets dragged along to a Gaga concert because their friends think it's cool.

Crowbar: You know, most other music videos have some kind of story or theme running through them, normally linking to the song's. Nope, not Lady GaGa. Thank you, for showing us the error of our ways.

Esquire: She is as wise as she is batshit insane.

Crowbar: This shot makes me the happiest. It implies she might have died in a bed fire.

Esquire: Never missing a good time to vogue. But seriously, she shows you her tits and then you burst into flames? A crude metaphor for herpes if I ever saw one.

Crowbar: Do you think maybe this is biographical? Like, someone she was going to get her jollies off with burst into flames as she stood all dramatic-like in front?

Esquire: Since when has anything in a Gaga video ever reflected something remotely situated in reality?

Esquire: Sparky bra and the corpse sounds like a shitty sitcom or a fruity drink.

Crowbar:Or a shitty, fruity drink. Is this how this video does sexy? Fire-damaged? Lady GaGa as a chimney-sweep stripper?

Esquire: Can you imagine the writers table?

Guy 1: Okay, then the bra starts shooting out sparks, who's with me?

*No-one answers because it's just him and a blow up doll of Gaga at a broken pool table*

Esquire: Well fortunately for us, that's the end folks, don't forget to visit http://gaminggentleman.blogspot.com/

Crowbar: You better go there, the three or four people who are reading this.

Something about Hips don't lie

Hmm, Hips don't lie eh? Sounds pretty good, I might check it out.

Okay, a fairly standard start, furries running away from a guy with horns, nothing I havn't dealt with before. A little bit of an innapropriate comment from Wyclef Jean there. "We got the refugees up in here". As if being a refugee is a culture to be proud of or some bullshit. That's exactly like saying "WE GOTS DA PRISONERS OF WAR UP IN HEYAH". Then little john begins rapping as sluts in skimpy prisoner garbs start dancing behind him, moving their hips from side to side, side to si-Sorry, on with the post.

Okay, this isn't helping, plus this drool can't be good for my keyboard. So it's the standard fare of Shakira being a whore and then we have that usual "runnning through a room ful of fabric that someone put up". Except this one is far more terrifying.

(Do you want some candy little bonita?)

Let's all get over the fact that Wyclef Jean looks like the bastard son of that one guy from black eyed peas and a tapir and get on with the post. So we go through a few more seconds of that scene and then we see the most horrifying sight known to man.

No, not Wyclef. Check out the back.

(There's a what behind me?)

The fuck is that!? Is that what Shakiras hips do to you? Turn you into a creepy mummy? Or did some poor cast member just say to the producer "Hey frank, look, I know your going for sexy here, but I just got this burn victim kid for half price down at the orphanage, and you know how I can't pass up a good deal, so can he be in the video? I know you already have Wyclef for the creepy aspect, but what if you want to really disconcert the audience?"

Then the fat producer gets up off his chair smoking a big cuban cigar and says "John, your a genius, get this man a big juicy paycheck!"

And the rest as they say, is history. Creepy as fuck history.

Finally, no more-

(Bastard child of a storm trooper and that girl from the ring)

"Again, John?"

"2 for 1 sale Frank, I'm not made of stone!"

(I didn't know they made Burqa's in Harley Quinn Colours)

So the rest of the clip is boring as fuck. Wyclef is possessed by Betty Boop at one point and says "Hoob boop pa woop" at one point and then says something about a musical transaction.

Shakira: Good

Wyclef and Creepy Kids: Bad

Result: Unpalatable.

Blogspot complimented me already

What? This thing? Oh I just threw it on.