Waking Up with Kimye
The first half of the episode wore me down enough that I was genuinely excited for “Waking Up with Kimye.” This was one of the better ones, too, even if SOUTH PARK DID IT. Rather than any Jelly Monsters, though, Kimye brought out the Kardashian Kristmas Karrolers (Simpsons did it?) and we learned how Kim got back into top-notch shape so soon after North West’s birth. The answer: she doesn’t eat. She’s the Kanye of not eating.
Now That’s What I Call Christmas
Here’s the other Impression Fest. Fallon pretended to be Pitbull, Harry Styles, and Michael Buble (sans Hamm), all with an equal amount of gusto (and the opposite of “gusto” for his Professor Snape), while Noël Wells’s Zooey Deschanel, Kate McKinnon’s Shakira, and especially Bobby Moynihan’s André Bocelli all shined, too. It was a fun way to spend three minutes on the Sunday morning before Christmas, but I do have one complaint: Jay Pharoah’s DMX was perfect, but why didn’t Lorne Michaels ask the real DMX instead of Justin Timberlake to be the musical guest? I could listen to him bark his way through “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” during a heat wave in July.
A Christmas Carol
“What if Scrooge was gay?” Nope. “But what if, like, imagine he’s SUPER gay.” NOPE.
Baby, It’s Cold Outside
An excellent twist on a premise that mercifully didn’t stop at “DID YOU GUYS KNOW THIS SONG IS TOTALLY ABOUT POTENTIAL DATE RAPE?” Instead, we got a “12 minutes later” version of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” where the consensual deed has been done, but now it’s time for the lady to leave. Oh, I promised you we’d go antiquing next weekend? About that…well, you see, I’ve got a thing and…*pushes woman outside in her nightie* DID YOU GUYS KNOWN THIS SONG IS TOTALLY ABOUT FREEZING TO DEATH AFTER HAVING SEX?
“Only When I Walk Away”
Right before SNL last night, I saw Inside Llewyn Davis (porn version: Inside Lou’s End, Dave’s Ass), which a) deserves the A+ Vince gave it, and b) completely spoiled me. If I hadn’t plunked down the $10 to watch a folk singer and cat wander New York together, I wouldn’t have heard “Please Mr. Kennedy,” and if I hadn’t heard “Please Mr. Kennedy,” I wouldn’t have known that I wanted JT to play that instead of “Please Mr. Kanye,” or whatever this laser tag light show doubling as a song was. Damn you, Coen Brothers.
I want more like this!
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