Like Liz Lemon says...

"Dealbreakers..."

If you don't watch a performance but act offended by it, you don't get to complain. If you are a network that puts on the said performance and leaves it unedited from East to West coast feeds, you can't claim you've been fouled. You can't claim ignorance either when you promote the performance as "outrageous" and  schedule it after the all awards have been given out and the local news is nipping at your heels- just in case people tune out. Dealbreaker! If you are offended yet too lazy to click the remote...dealbreaker!

No complaining about healthcare if you are overweight or a smoker- you are the very thing that is burdening the system. Dealbreaker!

Divorced people can't fight for the defense of marriage- they are who mock the institute. Protect marriage- don't divorce!

And, you can't support a candidate if you don't know why you support them...

The American Music Awards in review

Awards season is kicking into gear and if the AMA is a bellwether of what's to come, well then you better start a crackin' to stock up on gauze, hairspray, "I love Taylor Swift" posters and any discarded Mad Max and the Thunderdome outfits you can find. Although Alicia Keyes may have already beaten you to all the chainmail tops, it seems there's no end to the supply of barbed shoulders. And Jlo, I'd leave the "Louboutins" and start over with some "fresh out of the oven" music if you want to be a contender in a comeback role!

Speaking of comebacks, "what up, Whitney?" Seems like Dick Clark needed to create an award for the "comeback of the year", so why not call her "Int'l Artist of the Year?"- not like anyone really believes it, but it gave The Preacher's Wife a chance to reclaim the stage-too bad she can't sing any more. That was just an okay, talk-along approach, without hitting any notes. You could see the sighs of relief in the crowd when she finished and hadn't pulled a Britney, circa 2008, VMA's!

Question- why didn't Elvis, Nat King Cole or the Beatles get nominated? Oh yeah, cause they are dead and don't have new material...so...Michael...why was he nominated? The act of dying is not a category! Just because he died doesn't mean you throw him into categories he doesn't qualify for! Give him his props with an honorary award, but don't put him on the ballot! It just make the whole evening and awards seem cheap...speaking of Adam Lambert's performance- could someone return Paula Abdul's "Cold-Hearted Snake" props when they are done? The mirror goes back to Michael's Neverland ranch.

I think Rihanna stole Toni Braxon's outfit from the Grammy's years ago- or King Tut and repurposed it. That resourceful Lady GaGa then took it and made outfits for all of her dancers out of it! Now, add a dash of zombie dance moves, fire, broken glass, christmas lights and the stage is set for her perfect performance; Lady G's, not Riri's.

Why does Perez show up? And why does anyone give him a mic?

Thank goodness for Mary J and Carrie Underwood for keeping the joint classy!

And well, props to Taylor Swift who stayed up really late to accept her awards! Way to go! I hope she doesn't have to perform today!

By the end of the night, I think the only thing feeling more spent than Taylor Swift's acceptance speeches were the censors working the Eminem and 50 Cent performance or Adam Lambert's stylist.

Like I never left...

Yo Zombie Jesus, when I fall asleep at the wheel blog, I thought you were supposed to take over! I should have known country music lyrics were just a bunch of lies, unless Taylor Swift sings them!

Apparently nobody was ghost-writing while I fiddled, maybe they were too busy watching TV?

What brings me out of my shell? That dumb woman Carrie Prejean and Jon minus 8....why won't they just shut up and go away? Is anybody listening? Wait a sec- aren't these the same stupid people I was blogging about 2 months ago, and they still haven't left the building?

Well, now I know why I fell asleep at the wheel- they bore me to sleep! I'd rather listen to the band members of Aerosmith argue about if they have broken up or not than give an audience to Jon "what's his claim to fame"? And as for CP- she'd sell more book with less publicity, she's giving her "Christian" self a bad name! Shut up already!

Is anyone excited about seeing Levi Johnson naked? How frickin' arbitrary is that? WTF? And yet he gets media reporting on this- this is treated as breaking news! The only thing breaking appears to be his zipper and his panty's elastic waistband that causes them to fall down- no need to send a satelite car & crew over for reporting about the shlong...and honestly, if it is so impressive, why would you need a satelite truck equipment to see it?

Jon/Kate, Carrie/Pageants, or Levi/Sarah and the media...The only person who seems to have been able to sum up these folks and their relationships appropriately is Gaga..."call it a bad romance."

The Sizzle!!

Washington upended USC, 16-13,...the Dawgs are the sizzle!

And that's all I'm going to say about that- nothing worse than a poor winner, despite having so few wins to celebrate over the past 3 years.

How did they pull off the win? Perhaps it was the Dick Butkus pep talk? Spending the night at a Holiday Inn Express? Drinking milk? Who knows, let's just hope it's the start of things to come!

I was afraid to go to sleep last night, for fear it would all be just a dream and in the morning it would still be Saturday AM and the game would have yet to be played. Although the win is still there on the record books, my fears were well founded about going to sleep. I had a nightmare that right when Washington kicked the winning field goal, one of the refs turned into Kayne West and decided that USC was usually a much better team and so we don't get to celebrate our win, even though the kick counted. He chased everyone off the field, but was taken down by an errant goalpost falling over.

It was like one of those Geico commercials, when the cave men are finally enjoying themselves, whether at the beach or in a bowling alley, and then suddenly a Geico ad pops up and ruins the whole day! I know why the cave man cries!

After 2 years of watching other teams celebrate victory after victory, and quietly wishing (in my best Liz Lemon voice) "I want to go to there"...."there" finally got here! Not that I counted, but it had been 741 days since the last time a Dawg fan got to celebrate back-back wins...I'm just saying.

Well, the win was real...yippee!!

13,260

No, those are not my winning lottery numbers or how you measure a year- it's what you make in a month.

What would you do if you received $13,260/month?

That's like paying off a year of college tuition and still putting a down payment on a car, in just one month! I guess next months stipend goes to a crazy party at Chuck E. Cheese and purchasing more Hannah Montana crap then 20 screaming 10 year old girls could devour at All-American Girl (well, if they were to sell Hannah there)!!

$13,260 is the amount each one of Michael Jackson's kids receives monthly. "Blanket" has become a lot more expensive than a Snuggy- he's a cashmere quilt!
Hell, I bet Lourdes Ciccione is wishing she could have been adopted! Momma Madonna seems to be much more grounded in granting her special privileges.

Given how much money that is and how young these kids are, if Katherine doesn't do something to help them along, I guessing we are about to witness the slow development of the next Danny Bonaduce, Corey Feldman and Dana Plato in the making- I can only hope they aspire to be Paris!

Treason!

Now I know why other countries hate us!

First we offer up 2 servings of George W.
Then we dish out this??

How can America succeed in stemming the tide of ill-will when we dump this shit on the world, without so much as a warning? People were upset about the Valdez oil spill...what about this toxic waste?

With so many options to choose from, this is what they came up with? What, did Samantha Fox cancel at the last minute and LaToya wasn't available?

You know, it serves NBC right that they should wallow away in crappy ratings- apparently they signed some deal with the devil Sylar and now they are paying for it! And I'm not referring to Seasons 2 and 3 of "Heroes"!

The Bahama's should sue for slander because this "performance" shenanigan violates their motto, "it's better in the Bahama's" something fierce!

Testing my patience

For a society that, on the whole, seems to abhor anything close to standardized testing (whether it be the SAT's, ACT's, IQ, blood, who's your daddy, Chlamydia, or emergency broadcasting systems) there sure are a helluva lot of tests you can take on Facebook- and people are not only taking them, but they are sharing their answers with everyone...and thinking you should take the same tests too!

How keen is it that the city we both should live in is Phoenix (ouch, that hurts!)
or that my closest "Sex in the City" persona is Carrie (yeah, we type about the same number of words per minute) or if I were a superhero I'd be the Flash (the red spandex and spanx are quite fetching!)?

Maybe it is because I was that "one of those" people who rather enjoyed taking tests through out school that I have such a disdain for the random crap that is such malarkey and has no foot in reality or value. "Like I'm really closest to Julie on the Love Boat" and my best pet should be a turtle"!

So the latest, and close to lamest, test to wander down the pike has to be, "If you were a Jonas Brother, which would you be?" I quickly answered, "the one without the ring..." but when the answer came back, "Eric Dane" I realized maybe there was something to this...

Does a rose smell as sweet?

"What about the smell?" is all I keep thinking of when I hear that Michael, THE Michael, has yet to be laid to rest.

I mean, do they have him secured in a human-size Ziploc baggy or something?
I know how a pair of feet can smell in a day or two with no washings, but add armpits (he still did have those, right?), decaying skin and musty death-breath and you got some major funk going on! If CSI has taught me anything, it's that dead bodies can create some major Febreeze moments! If he thought Diana was dirty, imagine what she's saying about him, right about now!

Lay the poor man to rest already! You know anything that has to do with MJ is still going to be a 3 ring circus, so have with it and move on to all the legal disputes that will go on infinitely. It's not just the music that will make MJ immortal, it's also the litany of lawsuits that will stretch from here to the end of time.

Memoirs of an Imperfect Angle

I hate wrapping Christmas presents!

No, we are not anywhere near the season of church-driven giving (it ain't charity sweetie!), but I figured I might as well get that rant off my chest during the dog days of summer when everyone is a bit grouchy because of the darn heat and humidity; complaining just seems to blend better during summer's muggy-ness than in winter's chills. Like how smoking a cigarette seems more chic in winter when those tendrils of nicotine-exhaust waif out of your mouth, than during the 100 degrees days of summer where it looks as enjoyable smoking as it does wearing a gas mask jogging.

I know that there were people who, while growing up, belonged to certain ("DECA, DECA anyone?") high school groups that would not only teach you how to wrap presents in a manner that would make you look like an expert, but that would also then hawk those skills at the local malls for a few bucks to help your said school organization. This skill wasn't for me. I was too busy doing sports and learning real life talents, like integers and chemistry equations. I preferred to wrap my presents like I wrapped my text books, place them in a bag; VIOLA!...or if I went fancy, I cut that brown grocery bag open and wrapped the book up with a new surface for future doodling.

Fast forward to the future...

Now I am a broken man, embarrassed by the sad displays of perverted colored origami (that I paid dearly for at the local Hallmark store) molesting a box, trying to pass it off as eclectic wrapping talents. I typically acknowledge the "blooming skills" of my young children who wanted to "help daddy". That only gets awkward when gift recipients realize I have no children. The thing is, when it comes to wrapping, I can't get a darn angle to work with me! I fold one side too short, the other was cut wrong and I end up with something as disheveled as Oscar Madison from the Odd Couple! And what's worse? My partner is an EXPERT at this shit (not that I am competitive about these things...). Every gift he wraps not only looks commercial ready for Tiffany's or Bloomingdale's (even Martha needs to step back!),he even nails the darn ribbons...that he makes! I sit there sticking on as many of those pre-made puppies as I can, to hide the paper tragedy, and he's there making his own....and they look good. I silently curse paper cuts on him that just don't come while I fiddle with yet another crappy angle of wrapping paper to finesse into something more than it will ever be, like Tonya Harding's dreams of making it into the big time.

My closing thought on this, "Thank you for gift bags..."

Hughes? Hughes? Hughes?

For many, the day "the Earth stood still", was merely a month ago when Michael Jackson was declared dead (and not the Keanu movie remake), as I have made clear, that day was not so tragic in my eyes- he'd been a ghost of himself for over a decade; but the news today, of another 80's icon passing, did bum me out.

During a walk in Central Park, director John Hughes suffered a fatal heart attack.

If MJ provided the music to many people's childhood, John Hughes provided the movies. Growing up with the Breakfast Club (and desiring to start my own, only not detention-themed), the fear of being forgotten on my sweet 16, left home alone while the family vacations (I guess there's a plus for staycations) or crashing my father's car after skipping school (like I got to drive!), John Hughes wrote and directed the movies my generation was raised on. Too bad he had "Curly Sue" as his last effort, but where would "The Office" be if JH hadn't helped find Steve Carroll?

At least his efforts will forever (don't you worry about us forgetting about you, don't don't don't) be available via Blockbuster Netflixs.

Perhaps fitting, what came to mind when I heard of his death, were lyrics to an old OMD song from "Pretty in Pink", "If You Leave".

"...We’ve always had time on our sides
Now it’s fading fast
Every second, every moment
We’ve got to, We’ve got to make it last..."

Thanks for the movies, Mr Hughes...

I Learned it from Reality TV

Everything important in life, I learned from TV.

ok, more precisely, i learned the real critical stuff from reality tv

My lesson of the summer is two-fold; "don't mess with the big balls, just take a time penalty" and "men don't leave". Ladies, I hope you are taking notes! You ought to be taking notes!

So the "nothing to watch on Monday nights" complaint is finally over, now that "True Blood" repeats Sunday night's episode at the much more friendly hour of 8pm.
But I did get mildly hooked on the Bachelorette (finally concluding this week)- it's such a well written show! The plot lines are quite addictive.

After watching this hapless woman narrow down her suitors-to-be, I found myself asking, are (straight) men always this way? Not once or twice, but three times now men have left, just to show back up...and twice they were asked to leave. What's up with the "men don't leave" mentality? I can't imagine this translates well with future possible mates who have observed these guys not being able to take directions. I hope those who have to deal with men learn to lock their doors and change locks frequently! There's nothing more pathetic than a guy who's been dumped coming back for more...can I get an amen (and a restraining order)?

Years ago Jessica Lange has a movie about this phenomena, but I thought Lorena Bobbitt helped put an end to this; apparently not.

As for the big balls...well, that just goes without saying.

I Survived A Senate Hearing Gameshow

"dim all the lights (sweet darling) and cue the audience."
"placards in place to tell when to hoot and whistle and cheer and boo."

bring out the contestants

"stock the challenge booth with lots of water and ginseng, to help refresh the person and their memories."

First question, (for a potential seat in the big courthouse), "what EXACTLY did you mean, when 22 years ago, you said, "damn, he's hot!"

"To the best of my recollection, while watching a "6 Million Dollar Man" rerun, I noted that, while saving a disabled person, the actor, Lee Majors, looked hot in his t-shirt."

"Could you please clarify that statement? The American people have right to know where you stood on the appearance of Lee Majors (20 years ago), and if, by claiming he "was hot" did you discriminate against a lesser handsome person and trample over someones rights to non-discrimination based on appearance? So you believed Lee Majors to be hot?"

"At the time I thought that was an appropriate response. Yes."

"And do you still feel that way?"

"No."

"So you have changed your position on something you said just 22 years ago?"

cue the boo and hiss cards

Nothing further, next contestant please...

HP6: Magically Delicious!

Hip-hip-hooray!

I caught a premiere showing of Harry Potter last night and thoroughly enjoyed it!
Yes, this is from the same person who is enjoying this seasons Bachelorette, but don't hate on that! I know it's just fluff! It's not rocket science like Wipeout!

To help set the record straight, I didn't wait up past midnight to catch it, I got a sneak peek- and the only reason why I clarify that is to help prove I am impartial; as much as I may like Madonna, I'm not afraid to call out her in Body of Evidence, Shanghai Surprise , Who's that Girl, Speed the Plow her movie choices SweptAway. I'm not one of the crazy ones who dress up and and wait for hours/days in line to catch the Half-Blood Prince at the striking of midnight, or counted down the days till the final book came out.

Ok, getting the Deathly Hollows, at Waterstones, in London, on July 20th, 2007, way past midnight, on what is otherwise known as "opening night of sales" is a totally different story! (Tom) Riddle me this...Where were you when the final book came out?

Anywho...the movie is great, but advice for the book lover, don't brush up on the storyline before you go- there are some deviations from the book that may disappoint some of the "true hearts". But taken as its own movie, it's a wonderful adventure and has you primed for the final two installments...2010 and 2011 can't come soon enough!

Re-Joyce!

Nothing screams, "MOVE THAT BUS!", like a bad mug shot!
The latest entry into the "I'm a drunk celebrity- get me an extreme makeover" is none other than the lovable and laughable Janet. What she wouldn't do to have Mr. Roper bail her out of this one!

"well yeah, Three's Company was on 3 decades ago, but hey...who's counting?" Apparently, neither Joyce nor the Regal Beagle bartender, but the Breathalyzer certainly was!

There really should be someone running a "GlamorMug Shot" service to the stars- they'd certainly stay in business. Given how TMZ is all over everyone's shit before the cops are, perhaps they could add it to their line of services. At least then someone might agree to an interview or regard them somewhat favorably.

Here's hoping Joyce DeWitt pulls that mug back together, it's way too close to looking like Norman Fell!

Is that it?

Beggars can't be choosers, but I felt this action was just the tip of the iceberg.

Given the crap that we as a radio listening audience have had to put up with over the years, I would think Mimi could have been a bit longer in her apology. Yes, it is a great first step towards acknowledging the s&$t she squatted out and dumped on the world, but it makes me think that she doesn't realize that is how she always sounds!

And, while she is apologizing, what about the dress she wore...?

So I have seen the dessert, "Death by Chocolate", on many a fine restaurants menus, but after reading this I just kept thinking about poor Augusta in Willy Wonka. This is not the way I want to go. MJ is my new role model for going out quick and easy, but with a big splash! Just no Mariah, please!

Stealing Salutations

Merry 3rd of July to all and to all a good fireworks show!

Something as big as the USA's birthday deserves more than just a mere day to celebrate (and who couldn't use another day off work), so I'm pushing to get a "4th of July Birthday Eve" added to our grouping of federal holidays. Note, that is "grouping", not "groping"; one needs not wait for a federal holiday to be groped, if you're lucky! Hello, separation of church and state? We "technically" aren't a religious country, but Jesus gets an "eve" thrown his way (and it's not even the real birth date, if you follow those things), so why can't Uncle Sam? Let the debate begin!

So Michael is dead and now he's a saint; funny what death can do to an image. Perhaps Perez should take note? Bet he's glad June is over! It's almost blasphemous now to refer to MJ as "wacko jacko", but less than two weeks ago he was irrelevant, bizarre and losing Neverland Ranch, again. Strip away his music credentials and he was a creepy man who would most likely have been locked up for a variety of reasons, least of all the cavorting around with a monkey. But now...need I say more?

A tribute to the Governor of South Carolina

A little ditty about the Governor of South Carolina...to the tune of the Black Eyed Peas, "where is the love"...

What's wrong with SC mama?
Daddy's living like aint got no mamas
I think politicians are addicted to the drama
Only attracted to the things that bring you trauma
Overseas travellin'
Not explaining where he's been
Claims he's been hikin'
On the Appalachian
But it's frontin' for another woman
Yet marriages he will support to discriminate
And to discriminate only generates hate
And if you hatin you're bound to get irate
Yeah madness is what you demonstrate
And that's the lies he perpetrates
You gotta have love just to set it straight
Take control of your mind and meditate
Let your soul gravitate to the love y'all

People cheatin' people lying
Children hurtin you hear them crying
Can you practice what you preach
Would you turn the other cheek?
Father Father Father help us
Send some guidance from above
Cause people got me got me questioning
Where is the Gov?(where is the Govx3)(the Gov2x)

Now the wife already sez he's changed
New days are strange is the world the insane?
If love and peace so strong
Then trips to Argentina don't belong
Now the Governor drops a bomb
For months it's been going on
Away on Father's Day
What do you have to say
So ask yourself is the loving really strong?
So I can ask myself really what is going wrong
With this world that we living in
People keep on giving in
Makin wrong decisions
Only visions of them livin and
Not respecting each other
Deny thy Argentine lover
Disappeared with the reasons' undercover
The truth is kept secret
Swept under the rug
If you never know truth
Then you never know love
Where's the Gov y'all?(I don't know)
What's the truth y'all?(I don't know)
Where's the Gov y'all?

People cheatin people lying
Children hurtin you hear them crying
Can practice what you preach
Would you turn the other cheek?
Father father father help us
Send some guidance from above
Cause people got me got me questioning
Where is the Gov?(where is the Govx3)(the Govx2)

Quote of the Day: anti-Twilight (again)

39-year-old actor Stephen Moyer, who plays Bill Compton, a 173-year-old Southern vampire on HBO's True Blood had this to say about Twilight's Robert Pattinson,

"He's a pussy! He's the Slim-Fast, Diet Coke of vampires."

It's hilarious, vamps dissing one another. I wonder what Spike or Angel would have to say? I bet Drusilla would like the young one and so would Eric.

Dear Stephanie...

Dear Stephanie Pratt,

I am so sorry to hear about your weight challenges while on The Hills. Given what being on that show did to you, it makes sense you've moved on. Your health is most important!

Oh, but you haven't moved on.

So who is to blame? You say the show, i say, "Why blame just one show when you could blame the whole city of L.A., the entertainment industry or the state of California? Go big or go home!"

Oops, bad advice. I'm sure that's something like what they said, "get big and go home! We only like reality stars that look thin, not real!"

I'm not sure if just being on a show can actually make you thinner.
NEWS FLASH...you may have had something to do with it; call it bad eating habits, drinking habits, always filming at a bar or coffee shop habits, binging habits, puking habits, smoking habits, coffee habits...or your stupid brother's habit of stressing you out.

The Usual Suspects.

I'm not a believer that being on a skinny-girl show creates your osmosis of bulimia to be skinny. I have watched plenty of America's Funniest Home Video's and never found Bob Saget to be funny. Anna Paquin doesn't have ESP in real life and Heather Locklear is no sharp shooter ala TJ Hooker!

I'm not saying, I'm just saying...

FINALLY!

And it ends so perfectly...!

Not Necessarily the News

Ann Curry did a great job interviewing somebody on Monday- but you'll never hear much about it. Instead, we are being fed, ad naseum, information on the Roker-Speidi interview feud...that no one wants to care about but everyone keeps reporting on it (chalk one up, make that 12, up to the Speidi's for hanging around in the media spotlight waaaayyy tooo long- some things are best left in the jungles of Costa Rica).
A country is close to toppling it's old-time government by virtue of a recent election, and about the only reason you will know about it is the fact that there has been blood shed during the riots that have taken place since the elections were completed. Otherwise, the only turmoil that is generating any coverage is the one between Palin and Letterman and that's about as ridiculous a topic to debate over as Sarah's pedicure (oh yeah, that's getting coverage too...).

Any one hear a good North Korea joke lately? They are about to be a huge threat with their recent advancements in arms development, but you wouldn't know much about that because John skipped Kate's birthday celebration, and that is the war everyone is googling to learn more about.

The way things are headed, about the only way Obama will get any attention paid to health care reform is to have Miley Cyrus tweet about it and "missing someone" (who died from a lack of health care). Fortunately, we the audience won't be duped, we've been told by every media outlet already she's just upset about a Justin/Jonas issue.

Perhaps Nero fiddled why Rome burnt because he was unable to distinguish between the music and the emergency? or he had TMZ on too loud? Oh, no, it was just that Adam Lambert was the lead story...

Making Mountain People Proud

Seems these days everybody is chatting about what exactly they want to do before they die, so here is a truncated list of things I hope to experience:

Being the Pope (non-religious).
Winning the Lotto (as long as it is over $20M, otherwise, it's just not worth it).
Attend all four tennis Grand Slams (half way there).
Appreciate Chaz Bono as much as his parents.
Enjoy the fervor of what was the Macarena craze.
Live in a city when it wins a major sports championship.

So, just a few of the things I hope to accomplish at some point before traipsing into the Elysian Field of Dreams. Some may say, oh, that's the bucket list, but I am not calling it that, because I think that movie (of the same name) looked REALLY stupid and would hate for my aspirations to be maligned to anything Jack Nicolson did pretty much since 2000. Is his only job these days to just show up at the Oscars and Lakers games? Please note that this list is not in order, just train of thought.

Well, all that changed this week. The pinnacle of my strength and focus is now on achieving this amazing feat!

Who wouldn't want a Girl Scout patch made in their honor? And who better than Dolly?

A California Fable

Off they went, a merry band of travelers, some might say, but I likened them more closely to a motley crew of pirates. Their destiny, and those who ventured to cross their path, was as unclear as a Sarah Palin speech, yet they set out with a song in the heart (probably Pitbull's, "I know You Want Me" since it has a nice beat to walk to), a slight sense of fear in their collective psyche and a vague sense of direction.

Not knowing exactly where they were headed was uncomfortable for Carrie. After a rocky few months on the pageant, and speaker series, circuit, and a recent decrowning, she was tired of others controlling her, but at least there had been a plan. Now she was having to rely heavily on her own wits, tits and lashes- the sashes were gone! If only she could understand the LA freeways she could relax.

Perez, on the other hand, loved the unknown, glib or vague facts of life (and gossip). He could handle this journey, he just wasn't sure he could trust his traveling team. He and Carrie had pulled off the coupe of the century with the Miss USA contest fiasco. Both had garnered more publicity than either could have hoped for, and no one had guessed they had planned it all along- genius! He just wasn't sure if the "third" member of the gang could be trusted, given their propensity for stealing the spotlight and hogging all media.

"Speidi" was the rogue member, now that they had escaped the jungles of Costa Rica- barely! To the rest of the world (okay, a very small NBC viewing audience) they are still there, but those few in the know realize that it's their "Dollhouse" fembots that are actually still there, malfunctioning constantly with glitches of "desiring to quit", that have allowed the real couple to join up with the others. They could hardly relax, fearing their disappearance from the jungle will be soon discovered- fortunately for them, no one is watching.

The journey wasn't far, Sacramento to be exact, but the road was a tough one- reading road maps was no ones forte. They desired to help fix California, by way of recreating a third political party, "The No(sp) Nothings". They hoped that when they arrived at the capitol, the Terminator would grant them audience and their request for a brain- just one, to share amongst them and the recognition of a legitimate third-party.

Carrie dreamed of the ticket of Prejean-Palin ("too (sp) beauty queens in politics"), Perez hoped to emulate, and attach himself to, his hero, Rush Limbaugh. Heidi was holding out for a reunion with LC. None of them realized that they'd have to run against each other, but so was the ignorant bliss of the "No Nothings".

Ass-inine

There has been so much discussion about "accidental" asses fly around this week I thought it was already 2012 and Gingrich and Limbaugh were on the campaign trail; good to know it was just about Bruno and Eminem.

It's been a while since the MTV Movie Awards Show was (and I will use the term loosely) relevant or noteworthy. How long has it been since we saw the skeleton and Elvis' kin do that fake kiss and then discuss it? Truth be told, when's the last time anyone watched MTV for more than a "Hills" episode (and haven't we all given up on that (the ratings would seem to agree)? Yeah, MTV was once a powerhouse of social influence, but I'm placing money in the dead pool that MTV is about to be planning a wake.

Given the death of MTV, what's the new Muse? I read an article somewhere that Muses are fading like the Golden Girls; slipping away fast and you're dating yourself if you know who they are). I blame the calamity of the Muses on that atrocious fiasco of an actress, Sharon Stone, and her movie, "The Muse". That mythology has gone to Hades since she tried to channel one! But in this technologically savvy age, I guess the logic must be if you can't Twitter or Facebook, are you really there?

I wish we could get Judy Blume back- I'm pretty sure she isn't dead, so what gives?
Can't somebody resurrect her career (like Susan Boyle) and lead our new youth past vampires and LC and direct them to the new Superfudge? Or will they be lead by false/fallen angels and hail Bruno as the second coming of Borat? Talk about calamities!

So what gives, Jesus is in the dumper, LC is off the Hills, Twilight is fading (maybe too hopeful too soon) Madonna is verging on statutory rape (again) and the radio is full of GaGa....who will be the next leader?

Panic at my disco!

What to do?

I have 3000 songs on my Ipod (that all sound the same- "but there is SUCH a difference between the Aude remix and the Leger remix"), so now I am out of memory.
Now, when I say out of memory, that's a technical term, not an Izzie type of short-term thing that may be indicative of a death coming up because I have been so difficult to deal with on the set, for the past season, but I digress...

Given the vast array of songs that I have downloaded, but probably not even listened to, BUT MUST KEEP, how does one go about the delicate task of uninviting artists to squat on my pod? How do I know that I may not need Shakira in a moment of uninspired jogging to remotivate my ass? Or that Fleet Foxes will win me style points with the person sitting too close to me on a bus (not that I ever ride one...it is really more about those annoying individuals who linger too close in any of life's settings, where they shouldn't be sitting so close to me!) And to that point (and if they aren't cute...), I've got to keep some Rob Zombie or Twisted Sister loaded just so I can kick it up real loud to chase them away.

Curses on this faulty memory!

I have attempted to waterboard the damn thing in hopes of recapturing long ago downloaded musical memories that may otherwise not be recollected, but that hasn't gotten me too far. I guess you can put Ipods right up there next to Nancy Pelosi under the category of "things that don't hold up well under examination." Funny, under a hair dryer, I might be able to revive my Ipod, but Nancy may not survive her own hot air...

Talk about a Sophie's Choice dilemma...NKOTB or NSync?

Where's Solomon when I need the wisdom on how to cut the baby??

Suddenly Single

Single again...

"I was just a boy, sitting in front of a TV show, no longer loving her"


What would once be met with a joyous uproar now barely gets a "meh" from moi.
A barely audible response of indifference was my reaction when I heard that "The Hills" had been renewed for MTV. Who gives a rip for season 5?

Yes, I have outgrown my relationship and I have ended the long time love of my Monday nights...I broke up with The Hills.

Well, like, who hasn't? The ratings are sinking like Lady Gaga in front of a line up of naked sailors. Yep, it's gotten down and dirty fast! Even the queen bee has chosen to walk away- Lauren Conrad has left the Hill...the rest will soon come tumbling after. Maybe she can now give more time to her clothing line before it....ooops, too late.

Its not to say we didn't have a nice run for awhile; I was so hot and heavy into everything Lo, Audrina or Brody had to say or wear. I was a quoting fool of all the best Justin Bobby lines (ALL of them), and when it came to Speidi- nobody loathed them half as good as me (besides David Letterman)...I was the consummate fan.

Maybe it was the trip east, for Whitney, that was my last straw. Like a fan of Destiny's Child feels once Beyonce has left and only reunites for charity singles; it is just not the same. I suddenly found myself cheating on the gang- switching over to watch other shows on Monday nights- and liking them! Liking them more than the plots of The Hills even! Okay, maybe that is stretching the concept of a plot too much, but even Dancing with the Stars became more engaging (and quite a good lot of eye candy to boot scoot boogie with).

So, it's over. Done. Finito.
R.I.P. "The Hills" may the sun finally set on you soon...

I'm moving on, Lauren's moving on, Whitney has left, the sex has gone as stale as a Speidi fight; why stay around any longer?

The Hills is starting to resemble a 14 year old dog, half-blind, half-deaf and with only 3 working legs...won't somebody put it out of it's misery?

Judge Dredd

Dear The Misss USA Pageant,

I find it highly offensive and regrettable that you have stooped to such a low level of name calling after the outcome of awarding a sash and tiara. I, as an American, recognize and fully embrace the rights of citizens to certain freedoms, but when a bunch of short-sighted and apparently dimwitted people get together and make decisions that can cause harm to the "greater good", and let's just be clear, the "greater good" encompasses about 50 wannabees who weren't crowned Miss USA, I believe you can be held to a higher level of public scrutiny, just like the people who green-lighted the reality show about firing people at their job or the home loan lenders.

So I want to know, WTF was the pageant thinking when they selected Perez Hilton as a judge? Yeah, that's right. Stupid is as stupid does. Was Andrew Dice Clay not available? Chris Brown too busy? You wanted credibility for your contest and yet you asked a gossip blogger to rate women? Perez doesn't even really like women! Shame on you! Have you looked at him, seen how he acts, dresses, interacts with others? How could you ever think he would bring any positive attention to the cattle show?

I guess you can't always get what you want (ask Levi Johnston about that), but if you try sometimes, you might get what you need- next time show a little effort and respect to your contest and you might get a little back...

Pins, Needles and Razors

I am on pins and needles today, just giddy with the possibilities of what NASA may name its space station module tomorrow. Will they go with "Colbert", since that won the "name that" contest? or might they go with something more trendy, like Apple or "Bono"? I like the idea of either Obama or Oprah, personally. Then we could just call it "the Big O in space", "can anybody hear you scream?"

I stumbled, or should I say stubbled, across this controversy today.
I thought it was a hoot that this video/commercial was even made. My serious thought is "who penned the lyrics?" You know it ain't Diane Warren or Carol King, but during these hard economic times, even songwriters have to make a few Benji's to keep hotpockets in the freezer (along with their Grey Goose). I'm gonna put money on Katy Perry ("tulips on the mound....pretty clever!) or Samantha Fox! Can you imagine the pitch meeting...

It's nice they kept the ad so politically correct, I just wonder why they didn't pair this ad with lawn food or weed killer products.

4 words to remember..."tulips on the mound"

Africa not for USA

Madonna's bid to purchase another family jewel has been thwarted. A Malawi judge decided that she could not further accessorize herself with trinket children from his country. The ruling cites a law that prospective parents must reside for at least 18 months in the country before they can poach the local's cribs.

Why the change in position regarding having to live in the country? Perhaps it was after seeing the photo she attached to her resume (see side photo)?

Stymied in her efforts to catch up with Angelina and Nadya, it is rumored that Madge will now simple buy all of Malawi and retain control of the country until she gets what she wants. When asked for a quote about the situation, Guy Ritchie simply said, "Who's that girl?"

It is an unfortunate time for Madonna, as she watches Lady GaGa shimmy up and down the stripper pole and music charts she once owned, while her hits languish somewhere on the charts akin to a Danity Kane or Natasha Bedingfield single. Could Madonna be experiencing what it feels like for a 50 year old girl who still wears leotards out and about, something like a carton of yogurt on a shelf past it's pull date...expired and ready to be tossed out at any minute? Gosh I hope not, she's still got moves Mariah only dreams of having!

Never one to give up, and with the fashionable Spring and Summer months ahead (always the perfect time for child-like accessories) I imagine Madonna's next move will either be to go all in-vitro with A-Rod's child, or adopt one of Bobby Brown's kids.

Marathon Madness

Have you noticed that anything that now happens during the month of March has to be described as "madness?"

"Sears' March blow-out sale! Everything must go! It's MADNESS!"

Perhaps that is why Atlanta holds one of its marathons during the month of March, because to run 26.2 miles in a row, without the fate of a city hanging in the balance of you completing, or failing, in your mission, seems to be a decision of "utter madness" to me.

Apparently that view isn't shared by everyone, since I was forced to adjust my driving route (of 3 miles)for getting to and from the park, where the marathon happened to be staged. Yes, there I was, stuck in traffic, trying to negotiate the closed-off streets and red-lights with a bunch of pedestrians/runners who would have better served the city if they'd just gotten into their cars and driven around the town ("hey, gas is cheap again- use it or lose it!"), like I was, instead of hogging up the streets and sidewalks with their Nike, Adidas, and New Balance outfits, running for the "health" of it. Their "health inducing traffic jams" did little for the blood pressure and patience of anyone not participating in their little endeavor-so selfish and inconsiderate of them! "Ooh, look at our exclusive clique of runners going soo much faster than you on the streets today." Well at least I could listen to my music in the car and not be inhaling pollen! We'll see who wheezes last!

It was quite a cold day, for late March, in the A-town (clearly even Mother Nature was doing her part to try and stop the madness, by way of extreme temperatures!), and I was really expecting to see a lot more Uggs and bling being worn by the runners than I actually witnessed. I thought my city was more cutting-edge than just the usual spandex and running-shoe crowd I witnessed. Bummer. Maybe next year? At least consider wearing jeans shorts and crocs!

I'd consider running a marathon, but then I'd rethink it pretty quickly. I'm afraid I'd be stuck next to Zola Budd and she'd trip me near the finish, or Katie Holmes would kick my ass, running in a pair of Easy Spirits and a Nicole Miller ensemble- bitch!

I'll stick to creating traffic the good old-fashion way, in my car!

Friday Frivolity

So, every once in a while I get a song stuck in my head and I can't get it out for the love of Rock Me Amadeus! If you were thinking Kylie's, "Can't get you out of my Head", you were oh so...

"La la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la
La la la la la la la la"

...close.


So, to salute all songs that can just linger like a bad hangover...here's a great video I stumbled across to help you rattle and hum the day away.

Happy Friday!

Komodo Anne Coulter Attacks Fisherman

Komodo dragons, Anne Coulter, one of the world's heaviest bitchiest Republican lizards, can grow a forked-tongue up to 3 meters (10 feet) in length and have a toxic bite that they she uses to kill prey such as buffalo, democrats and young children, returning to feast when the animal succumbs to the poison.

Despite their (her) ungainly appearance, the carnivorous reptile(s) can run as fast as a dog Laura Ingraham in short bursts, jump up on their (her) hind legs, and kill animals with a blows of (from) their powerful tails, tales, and talons.

Attacks on (Republican) humans are rare, but Monday's incident is the latest in a series in which the monster lizards (readers choice, either Anne or Laura or both) -- which have forked tongues and fearsome claws --have killed or injured people.

Last month a park ranger Meghan McCain survived after a Komodo dragon Anne Coulter climbed the ladder into his hut and tried to savaged his hand and foot. In 2007 an eight-year-old boy Matt Lauer almost died after being mauled.

In June last year, a group of divers reporters who were stranded on an island in the national park her radio show -- the dragons' Anne's only natural habitat -- had to fend off several attacks from the reptiles before they were rescued.

Park rangers also tell the cautionary tale of a Swiss tourist Liberal who vanished leaving nothing but a pair of spectacles and a camera after an encounter with the dragons Anne several years ago.

An endangered species, Komodo Anne is believed to number less than 4,000 in the wild years old. Access to their habitat is restricted, but tourists can get permits to see them in the wild on FoxNews or within the National (Republican) Park.

Fear Factor

Dick Cheney has the audacity to tell Americans they are not safe under the Obama Administration. WTF does he know about creating safety? Does Feb. 11th, 2006, ring a bell, a-hole? Yeah, probably not because there has been so much subterfuge over the incident that happened around that date. Well, here's a reminder, it's "about the date" that you shot your hunting partner in the face. Um, about being safe? Really? I'm curious how Cheney defines "safe?" Apparently he's not factoring in friends you almost kill.

"hello? anybody here? ohmigod there's something coming at me in a horrifically bright blaze-orange vest, SHOOT IT! Uh, Harry? I thought you were a quail- sorry."

Let's talk about public safety under the Bush Administration. "American Idol" and reality TV boomed, how much more harm can we inflict on a nation? Isn't that enough? Lady Gaga came out of the Bush Administration as did Fountains of Wayne. Let the evidence speak for itself. I think I have made my case.

Ok, so under Obama there are a few casualties: Rihanna isn't as safe, but that's not his fault. Skiing accidents have harmed more than Obama has. True, the Ocotmom has emerged, but her pregnancy started in the Bush Administration and we are counting inception!

Truthfully, it's way to early to judge Obama, so shouldn't Cheney just shut his yap for a bit?

Yes, he who shoots his dear friends ought to just roll away back under a rock and play Cat's Cradle with Sarah Palin and clan.

Are they really that lucky?

I'm not so sure I'd want the luck of the Irish.

First there's the whole potato famine thing that nearly wiped out Ireland, then there's the "alcoholic/vomiting explosively into the street" imagery/stereotype that pretty much gets attached to anyone who drinks beer in the country (it doesn't happen to every one...but, Frank McCourt wasn't doing anyone any favors when he wrote about it in "Angela's Ashes") and then there's a bunch of other stuff that just doesn't seem so lucky: IRA bombings, lots of rain, having to kiss a stone, Guinness Stout and I'm sure the lord of that dance is clogging around somewhere in the moors, not letting anyone nap! It almost reminds me of being a rabbit and wondering how on earth could losing one's foot be seen as lucky? Guess 'tis in the shining (Irish) eyes of the beholder.

FOUR WORDS:
Lucky Charms
Shamrock Shakes

These two items alone could almost convert me, almost. Fortunately, one I can pick up at the market any day of the week, so converting for Lucky Charms, although magically delicious, would be highly dramatic and symbolic at best, but not much more. Shamrock Shakes, on the other hand...well, they are as elusive as a Leprechaun's pot of gold! Where the hell did all the Shamrock Shakes go? Did a jealous Scot snap up the recipe and place it in Brigadoon? What gives with McDonald's making them so hard to find? That thick minty green shake is such a yummy treat, why did they make them go away? Why? Why? Why? Making Shamrock Shakes impossible to locate isn't lucky for anyone!

ubiquitous

Apparently, Facebook is all the rage. (FYI- "The Hills", RIP)

Take a moment to compose yourself- it be true! Wipe the smirks off of your face, I have known about it for quite awhile now, but, unlike the new 90210, this actually did gather steam and become something. It's just when my peeps and co-workers are discussing it, Facebook is quickly becoming the motorcycle careening about 2/3rd of the way across the shark tank, heading towards the crash landing.

2/3rd of the population are on fb and now more people are using facebook email to converse than regular email, NFW!! It is almost impossible to avoid a FB-based discussion these days....crazy I tell you!

So my question, what's next? Will the mainstream flock to Twitter and tweet all day?
Or is the use similar enough that "the sequel" won't equal the original? Damn You Valley of the Dolls "Matrix Reloaded" and Cheryl Ladd!

Ok, back to your status updates, and you know what I mean...

...and Danity Kane?

Wow West Virginia!
The world is going through some of the most challenging circumstances most people have ever lived through- okay, there have been some trying time like wondering who shot JR, understanding the pet rock phenom, having to listen to Taste of Honey, learning to disco and working through the emotions after learning about the cancelling of "Saved by the Bell," but currently the financial market and world economy is kind of a big deal.

So, given what is going on right now, leave it to a West Virginian congressman to decide that NOW is the best time launch (what is most-likely a subversive pissed-off Bratz-owner attack) to discuss the merits of Barbie- for real! Just because the girls there aren't pretty doesn't mean you have to take away beautification objects!

Now I don't mean Barbi Benton (where have those Hee-Haw days gone?) or the twins, I mean the one and only, beach house in Malibu, Barbie doll. This guy, Jeff Eldridge, believes that she is a bad role model and should be banned, in all of WV! Outlaw the bitch doll! Make her illegal to own in the state.

Three simple thoughts on this:
Guns, Tobacco, and Walmart.

As long as those are legal in West Virginia, Barbie ain't the biggest problem facing young women growing up in West Virginia; quite frankly, growing up in West Virginia is the problem.

Guns- pretty obvious there the imminent threat of death or maiming
Tobacco- horrid for the health and development of anybody
Walmart- sells lots of stuff that can ruin a young girl: make-up, Danity Kane Cd's, marriage licenses and leotards to name a few.

West Virginia, leave the broad alone, she's turning 50 this week and who wouldn't want to look that good at 50?

Leeeaaavvveee Baarrbbiiee Alllloonnneee!!!

Why not leave Barbie alone and go for real change...move away.

Snow-topped memories

The snow crashed down on Atlanta yesterday, and it lasted about as long as the solo careers of the first two chicks from Destiny's Child. No, not Michelle and Kim- they are WAY more successful.

This made me think of Robert Frost and his "Road Not Taken" poem. No, there is no snow in his poem, just the two paths going in separate directions, and, I am pretty sure, there aren't any busted-down ex-girl group singers wandering along that proverbial road of Robert Frost's, since "the leaves were unstirred", but still I wonder, "what's up with LeToya and Farrah these days?" What road, apparently a hell of a lot less Beyonce traveled, did they end up wandering down? Has either of them been part of "Dancing with the Stars" or "Celebrity Apprentice"? Are they really the "Survivors" that the CD wanted us all to believe? Just where are they?

Maybe they are selling hair extensions on HSN, old Dereon couture at flea markets or mixing it up as back-up dancer on the PussyCat Dolls videos. Naw, I doubt Nicole would let them on the set, "they got to go".

HHmmm. I think I have given them more "thought time" than most.

I guess the snowfall just made me nostalgic.

Next.

The things you do for love

I have an idea.

I want you to withhold enjoying some of your favortite things.
Whether they be,

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings

I am asking you to deny yourself these desired things.

Okay, maybe not receiving brown paper packages for a few days, or cooking out of stainless steel over copper kettles, wouldn't bust your chops, so those don't count.

I want you to deny what you really love, to prove your love.
Not for a day, or a week, or a month, but for 39, no, round it to 40 days.

Angry yet? Cranky and hateful for missing the morning java for 3 fortnights?
Do your co-workers wish for you to take PTO days to "chill out?" Stll out there chasing pavement?

Does every waking moment make you sing, "I hate this part right here, I just can't take these tears?"

GOOD!

Now I have you where I want you. Let's just call this feeling "love".

Now go indulge yourself. Thanks for proving your love.

Why must one have to suffer for love?

Couldn't a simple, "he went to Jarrods" and "I love you" do?
I'm just saying...

Put a lid on her

I need a Beyonce-cation. I am full full full of the "Single Lady" trying to put a ring on every damn TV awards show, dressed horribly in some "House of Dereon" creation that will become an instant hand-me-down to poor old Solange, or worse yet, in a barely there baton-twirling unitard outfit that exposes more than Dateline does on "To Catch a Predator." There's your predator Dateline! Sasha Fierce is eating all the opportunities for other, dare I say, "more talented, under acknowledged" singers out there. She's like the Heid and Spencer of the awards show circuit!

Sure we've seen this happen a couple of times now in B.'s life, the latest with Michelle and Kelly being moved off the stage so the Diva could go solo, but lately the tempo of her stiletto heels gyrating on an awards' stage has quickened to the speed of a "Halo" remix. Couldn't an actual Oscar winner have performed, like, um, say....Jennifer Hudson? Annie Lennox? Three6Mafia even? How about a throw back to the original Dreamgirl, Diana R.? Who wouldn't have gone GaGa for the Lady to sing with Hugh and Zac?

Beyonce just feels like an easy cop out; somewhat like her dress, "here, let's salute the Von Trapp's and make a dress out of the curtains." I can understand the logic, somewhat, "Press" does equate to, well, "Press" these days. Some producer somewhere was saying, "Oh, let's just put B. out there, in another tacky outfit, that'll keep people talking till we can get JLo back on the circuit."

And thus another Beyonce performance was hatched. Where's that attention whore Madonna when you really need her?

Is Gary Hart racist?

Monkey references + anything = racist.

I always hated new math.

IMHO, something does not compute in that equation, BUT...according to the Rev. Sharpton and others, any educated person would see the obvious and blatant racial overtures expressed when a monkey is used as an image; the monkey is a thinly veiled reference to black Americans.

Uh-oh! I don't see that, implicitly or explicitly, with every use of a simian image. Now I feel embarrassed, as I thought I was (my degree says so...) an educated person.

Mr. Holder just expressed that Americans are cowards and afraid to discuss race here in the U.S.... Yeah? Hello? Are you missing the cartoon debate? Why do you think it is a little unnerving to dip a toe into race issues when the proverbial race card can be pulled at any minute by someone who interprets a situation in a certain way, and if you don't see it the same way, you become ignorant or racist?

A whole community is attempting to sue a 17-year old girl for offending them with a photo that they felt was expressly done to harm them, claiming (she) "acted in conscious disregard for the rights of her Asian Pacific Islander fans". I thought she was just being Miley. She's got a tough fan club!

This race issue is...hhhmmm, how could one d-e-l-i-c-a-t-e-l-y say, the 500 pound gorilla in the room , the white elephant , CRAP! How do you say it when you just want to say it without offending anyone?

Was George Michael racist when he sang about the "monkey on his back?"
Are gymnasts who play on monkey bars supporting racism?
Is "Planet of the Apes" racist?
Was "BJ and the Bear" secretly supporting slavery?

Perhaps we should just pick on horses for awhile.

No Sap Here!

As symbolic and timely as celebrating MLK Day was to the celebrating the inauguration of Barack Obama was in January, I noticed a similar serendipitous situation with Friday the 13th and Valentine's Day being back to back. This coupling is better than Lucy and Ethel, chocolate and peanut butter (back when it wasn't such a killer) or Kelly Clarkson and Max Martin- and that is really saying something(...saying something- bop bop shoo be do-wah)!

The irony of a bad luck day paired with the day of cupids, chocolate and roses just feels right, kind of like how the friends who set up Rihanna and Chris Brown used to feel. You've got bad luck and love, back-2-back, the inspiration for 95% of poems and music!

For many, they are both days of dread.

First there is this inane fear of 13. Deal with it peeps. Always going to appear after 12 and right before 14...like clockwork my friends.

So you get through Triskaidekaphobia and neither Jason nor his mother have offed you

**so far, so good**,

but then bang...it's that other crappy day...

The whole awkwardness of others receiving flowers or cards while your desk sits bare ("I do not need tokens of affections to show others that my partner loves me" chants through your head)makes for a clock-watching, office-door closed kind of day. "Happy Valentines Day!" salutations attack from all sides; break rooms, hall ways, restroom stalls be damned- these words ooze through the walls and grab at you, choke you, make you want to retch. What if you are single, or not happy? Can you just punch that person in the throat to shut them up? Is not "all fair in love and war?"

If you love, must you dote? Can't you keep your true emotions bundled up and hidden on the inside, like a man? Nothing bad ever happens with bottled up emotions, it's when you share them you get in trouble, just ask Christian Bale! So keep it inside, learn how to hide your feelings, it's for the best. Refuse to let Hallmark make a mint off of you because of your heartstrings- fight the good fight!

But, if you must flaunt it- beware! Flaunting automatically opens the door for future abuse when you get in an argument/ break-up. We, the non-flaunters, but definitely gloaters, are prepared and waiting to ask how sad you'll be with no cards come next Valentine's Day, or remind you of how happy you both once seemed, "where did it go wrong? You both really seemed to like one another. Gosh this must hurt!"

Yeah, when you least want to hear about it(like most of us on Valentine's Day) we will bring it up **innocently**, of course. Watch me play my poker face.

A word from our sponsor

Spokespeople are dropping like flies these days- role models are so unreliable!

Michael Phelps dumped by Wheaties. Hey there Kellogg's, don't you know stoners need food, too? Wake up Kellogg's, your corn flakes are the quintessential net result, or perfect answer, to the symbiotic relationship between stoners and the dreaded munchies! Why fight it, embrace (inhale, if you must- "puff puff pass the pipe") it! If you wanted any more proof how good your cereal is, why not leverage the image of a stoner who is damn fast! Sure, Nancy Reagan may not like the message, but who ever knew of a stoner who could find their way off of a couch in less than a minute, better yet break world swimming records? You just know Gatorade is itching for publicity like this!

Maybe Kellogg's could fill that spot on their sponsorship roster with A-Rod. Yes, jumping on the A-rod bandwagon becomes cliche, especially since Madonna has already been there, and Torre is dishing on him, but "Wheaties" could spin the negative publicity into a new recipe for success, "Wheaties, part of a complete champions breakfast regiment- steroids, marijuana and attorney's fees not included!"

Although the lyrics claim that the flavor of gum is to last "Forever", the relationship between Chris Brown and Wrigley's went stale as quickly as a piece of gum spit out onto the side of the road after a domestic dispute. WTF?! Beating and biting on Rihanna, really? Talk about Disturbia! Fleeing the scene on foot and taking the car keys, leaving Rihanna stuck on the side of the road- classy; where did Chris Brown learn those moves? Apparently the option to shut up and drive wasn't viable.

How to avoid the disappointment of spokesperson who fail us- don't get your hopes up to begin with!

Or, even easier, leave spokemodeling up to the professionals, actors and models (A&M); they won't let you down. No one's shocked by Kate Moss doing coke or Alec Baldwin going off on his daughter- erratic behavior by A&M are part of their intrigue. And, when they do go crazy, get busted or get caught in less than flattering circumstances it's usually going to end up being a publicity win-win for the product and the star, not a blemish! Paris going to jail sells more than Barkley getting busted for DUI anyday.

Open Letters Week: taxing issues

Dear IRS,

Please explain why you are so damn confusing.

I'd like to go all Etta James on you and tell ya how I really feel, but I think doing that to the government might create legal issues or FBI visits, so I will speak softly.

Why is it so hard to file taxes? You remind me of sudoku. Just keep trying to stick numbers into different boxes until a magical sequence is derived and viola, "money disappears from my bank account, it's like magic; crappy bad magic!"


I don't like sudoku.

Why can't we find a way to make doing taxes as pleasant as, say, picking the next American Idol? Sure, we may have to deal with some crazy bikini-clad freaks and cranky officials, but in the end we'd have much more representation in the taxation process. Isn't that what we fought for? Why is there a limit on making taxes EZ? Couldn't you work something out with Staples to create the "easy tax button"?

Given the complexity of the forms and the penalties for making a mistake (thank you much, Mr Daschle) I opt to contribute to the economic stimulus package by hiring an accountant to do my taxes. How refreshing, paying someone to help me pay the government! At least I know my nomination would be safe!

Open Letters Week: caught in the Rush hour

Dear Rush,

There is a party that needs your leadership, but it is not the Republican's.
You, my dear pill-popping fellow, should properly anoint yourself the leader of the Pussycat Dolls and their Las Vegas party scene. Take your old-fashion politics of disinformation and spite and refocus your energy (and Viagra) on leg lifts, splits, and learning to sing back-up. OK, that last one is a joke, considering none of the "other 'cats" do any singing other than Nicole. But why not aim your pipes where it could do some good, or be drown out in a chorus of "na na na na". Maybe you and Cheney could duet?

You, Mr. Limp-baugh, have the knack (but not the Sharona) of singing like a canary when things don't go your way. How quick you are to cheer the "failure" of the new president and put yourself front and center as the new Right's voice. Let's just see what "Annie Oakley of Alaska" has to say about that! She could probably kick your ass and then skin you, right after she does the same to Ashley Judd! My best hope would be to call it a "draw" and you both are gone, but...well, one can dream.

I love your notion of splitting any stimulus plan between political camps- kind of like how you split your Viagra prescriptions? And how did that work for you at airport security? Oh, that was mean-spirited . Funny how you never asked the Republican president to split policies with the Democrats when HE was in office, so why now...oh, yeah, sore loser.

But hey, it's a free country isn't? So you can carry on with your blather and brimstone, it seems like the AM airwaves are a bastion for your type, but please don't believe your hype, look what hype did for "Snakes on a Plane".

TTFN!

ps... please photoshop better, you are beginning to resemble Richard Hatch

Open Letters Week...

(If you haven't read this humorous letter...here ya go, from Ricky Gervais)


Dear Mr President,

Firstly, congratulations on your historic win. I have never been so behind a candidate for what must be considered the boss of the world.

You seem to be a man of grace and integrity, who would never shirk responsibility in any way.

I'll get to the point.

As I'm sure you are aware, one of your flock has strayed. A Miss Paris Hilton, who is, I believe, a resident of Beverley Hills, is in England doing a reality game show for ITV2 called Paris Hilton's British Best Friend. Fine. I have no problem with that. I don't have to watch. But now it has come to my attention that she has bought a house in North London a few miles from me, and is out and about ingratiating herself with the Great British public.

Mr President. We are not stupid. This is clearly a retaliatory strike for Posh Spice moving to LA. I know it, and you know it, so let's cut the "it's a free country" nonsense and come to some agreement.

I propose an exchange.

This is how it would work. We call them both and tell them that we've found a giant "paparazzi nest", in New York say. (half way home for both of them already)

At first they may be confused that they'd never heard of such a thing before, but the thought of that many photographers in one place will be irresistible.

Once we get them there, while they are having their photos taken (we will have hire a few guys with cameras to make it look good) we will swap their limos around. It's fool proof.

This is a covert operation of which Mr Gordon Brown knows nothing. (I've got him working on finding a synthetic fur for The Queen's guards' bearskin hats.)

Have your people call my people. They may have to call a few times as my people are useless to be honest.

Thank you,

Ricky Gervais

Where have all the sequins gone?

Imagine my perplexed state of shock, awe, and disbelief, and then the paralyzing anxiety that settled-in when nary a single sequin, rhinestone or bauble could be found when I was attempting to recreate Aretha's crown this weekend!

Never one to flaunt it in public circles, but the milliner that I am was relying heavily on recreating that "bow-toxed" top in the talent competition of the pageant- my mad hatter skilz were to be my crowning glory (every single pun definitely intended)! With out those jewels, how could I compete? My hopes in winning were like a pack of cigarettes under J-Lo's booty, crushed!

Just deal with it!

And so I did! Bouncing back from this early disappointment, or as it shall always be referred to amongst close friends, "the sequins incident '09," I quickly attempted to move to my back-up talent...spelling (and not the Tori kind)!

Yet suddenly I was incapable of putting into alphabetical order, and then spelling correctly, all 50 United States! What the hell? Amber Atkins had just done it with a flourish and I couldn't even place "A-L-A-S-K-A" before "A-R-I-Z-O-N-A!"

***then I woke up***

Folks, let this be a warning to you all. In lieu of Netflixs and football, don't settle for a weekend of beauty pageants and figure skating championships...the resulting dreams could be disastrous!

A sobering dose of Full House!

Drowsy on all things Obama, I feel like the last one at the Thanksgiving dinner table, still nibbling away at the casseroles and pies long after everyone else has begun to seek temporary refuge, fighting with siblings and cousins, for the right to nestle amongst the couch cushions and pillows, for a short siesta, pet hair be damned!

Yup, I'm the one in "The Meaning of Life- The Autumn Years" attempting to find room in my belly for that one last ever-so-slight wafer thin mint, only my plate runneth over with inaugural coverage.

Thank god ("ok, maybe Heath doesn't have the exact same appreciation"), for the Olsen twins and Bob Saget and the wonderfully underrated comedy, "Full House"- Oops, the underrated funny show was "Arrested Development."

But back to the "healing" powers of "Full House".

"Full House" helped defeat the evil clutches of inertia (does Einstein know about this?), a warm and cozy TV room and the Inauguration coverage that I felt so inclined to watch...and watch...and watch. Somewhere along the way I might have nodded off, no disrespect meant, and in my temporary slumber I managed to (subconsciously perhaps?) change the channel to "Full House." Well, if having to watch Bob Saget doesn't inspire you to get away from the TV set as quickly as possible, maybe you are numb? Immobilized? In a cast? French?

You know, now that I think about it, Whirlpool could create refrigerators that when opened have mini-chips in them that tell Bob Saget jokes, there's a weight loss plan impervious to failure!

So, kicking and screaming, I must tip my hat to "Full House" for helping get me up and away from the TV (...and back to the computer).

*slighty disgusting video that captures my saturation of the inauguration and my feeling towards "Full House"

Gone Baby Gone...

Phew. Survived that one.
Okay, now that the housekeeping has begun, let's get to cleaning up this joint!

If You Seek Amy

Millions of people begin the new years with resolutions:

"Hey, maybe Ill dye my hair,
Maybe I'll move somewhere,
Maybe I'll get a car,
Maybe I'll drive so far
They'll all lose track,
Me, I'll bounce right back,
Maybe I'll sleep real late,
Maybe I'll lose some weight,
Maybe I'll clear my junk,
Maybe I'll just get drunk on apple wine" (thanks Dolly!)

Maybe* I'll leave Amy Winehouse in 2008.

*past tense (I had every intention to leave her ill-enough alone, but she has proven to be as addictive as Oxycontin to Rush L.)

Twitching and itching and DT's be damned, I had made it ALL THE WAY to the Ides of January, with nary a tale of Winehouse to be told... Until I she broke down. Hang on tramps and thieves, I am going through an Amy relapse worthy of Jeff Conway in "Celebrity Rehab"!

Two days ago, Miss Winehouse, in the middle of her vacation in the Caribbean, chose to chat with journalists, blathering on about her new found sobriety (well, she still drinks, but no drugs), healthy lifestyle and new beau.

Fabulous! Wonderful! She almost sounds articulate and believable! I'm rooting for her!...

AND THEN...a day later, The Press breaks the story (and pictures to back it), "for she (Amy) has been spotted crawling up to holidaymakers and grabbing their drinks after fed-up resort staff refused to serve her." Like a cat pacing outside a fish store hoping to steal scraps, or pigeons huddling near a crazy-lady with bread crumbs to dole out, Amy Winehouse is lurking and crawling around the outsides of bars, trying to steal the drinks of patrons not watching their glasses! How high school!

REALLY AMY???!!!

But, given where she has been, perhaps it's an improvement!

Cue the band, here's a salute to Miss Winehouse (with some help from Tracy Byrd)...


"She grabbed me by the arm said come on let's go
She dipped down spun around and doe-see-doed
She rocked back on her heels dropped down to her knees
Crawled across the floor then she jumped back on her feet
She wiggled and she giggled beat all you ever saw
Said this is how you do the Amy Winehouse crawl

She said we got a hundred gallons of sweet red wine
Stolen from the biggest tourists glasses she could find
Help yourself to some, don't obey the law
If you drink, don't pay, do the Amy Winehouse crawl!"

LOST in emotions!

Ooh baby I'm LOST in emotions!

I’m so excited I might need to wear adult diapers!

“It’s been seven hours and fifteen days, since you took the island away from me…” No, it has been a hell of a lot longer!

LOST is almost found again! After like, over 5 years of being off the air, LOST is coming back next week and, like the good partner I am, I am not asking any questions about where he’s been, “...it’s alright, baby comes back, and I don’t really care where he’s been!” But I do care about where Ben is, and when he is!

Rumor has it that the first couple episodes are slamming and help set us up for quite the trip for the rest of the season.

I can’t wait. Tonight ABC is running the final two ep’s from last year as a prep course for next week’s main course!

Lick it up Heather!

LOST

The Bathroom Monitor

Reports claim that up to 2 million more jobs may be lost in the US in 2009; I can only hope Elizabeth Hasselbeck's, Sarah Palin's and Heidi and Spencer's (if he had one!) jobs are among them!

I kid.

(No, I don't.)

I do have an "occupation," (and I use that term as lightly as I use describing Amy Winehouse's current condition as, "all cleaned up and sober,") in mind that I'd nominate for elimination: the attendant at the bathrooms in clubs. Those people bother me something (Sasha) fierce! Even in prison the restrooms aren't guarded (from what I have seen depicted in movies...). Seriously, who wants this job? Peeping Toms or peeps who enjoy working mere feet away from fecal matter (trying hard...not...to...judge...)?

"Quit watching me go pee!"
"No, I don't want any candy ("bought in the restroom- icky! What's that hair on my tootsie roll?")!"
"If I can pee all by myself, I'm gonna guess I can turn on the water all by myself too, Thank you very much!"
"I can get my own paper towels!"

"Oh, you want a tip?"

Here's a tip, get out of the bathroom! Don't hoard and hover over the paper towels, or glare when I don't use your "services!" It makes me want to go all Norma Rae on you; swiping the paper towels from your clutches and throwing the stack of (guarded) towels into the air and showering ("make it rain baby") the room and patrons with Brawny wipes, tip and guilt-free!

The Lady is a Tramp

Hmmm...
Perhaps I need to be more specific?

The Pussycat Dolls? na na na na
MaDonna?
Britney?
X-tina?
Taylor Swift? (gracious! did I call her out or what?)

All are quite good guesses, but the queen of the heap, top of the pops, tranny mess numero uno is no other than, The Lady GaGa, or shall I say, since all we hear is...Radio GaGa?

Yep! Like a thief in the night, stealing from the "House of Knowles", Miss GaGa has taken over the #1 song in America, (RuPaul bless each and every drag-queen!) from the "Leotarded One"- apparently America has voted, and all the single ladies opted to put a ring on "Just Dance".

Yes that infectious little ditty is all over everything, approximately a year after it was released, but who is keeping track, beside Madonna and X-tina, who must be crying into their penniless coffers, wondering how "Just Dance" did what theirs songs couldn't (ancient Chinese secret, huh?).

But given the smorg-ass-borg of singles Solange's sister is still serving up ("Diva", "Halo", "If I were...", "Single Ladies"), you can believe it won't be long before Beyonce has herself back at the head of the buffet line...

wo oh ooh oh oh ooh oh oh ooh oh oh oh

Who ya gonna call, Love Hewitt?

Make no mistake, the loss of a child is a horrible thing (the failure to report one missing for 10 years is a whole other post!), but the unseemly task of parents having to defend the child's death must be tantamount to re-living both Bush presidency's, back-to-back, or worse, paying full price to watch "7 Pounds!"

Given the circus ("all eyes on me, in the center of the ring, just like a...") that the Travolta's have found themselves in the middle of, ever since John joined Scientology ever since their son, Jett's, untimely death, and the secrecy that shrouds the beliefs that the family subscribes to, it's no surprise that other members of Scientology are speaking out and defending the Travolta's, and the church.

Can't you just imagine the inner circle of the Scientologists when the Batphone started ringing...

"...crisis at the highest level; death of a member, what do we do?"

L. Ron (bitch, you know he's alive, that the huge secret! L. Ron did what Disney only dreamed of and then he hogged the recipe!) starts to scroll through the membership Rolodex to see who should be deployed...

"Cruise? No, still in recovery mode"
"Kristie Alley? Too fat for real PR"
"Will Smith? Not publicly a member"
"Presley?" um....well, OK, send out a message from Elvis. What, they don't know yet? Okay then, make it Lisa Marie"

John to L. Ron, "...you chose Lisa Marie? even over Dharma to support us publicly? Wow, this isn't going to gain any sympathy. She married Michael, who sees her as credible? Oh, she has a new album to push next month...oh, OK."
"Can we at least schedule an interview with John Edwards to talk to Jett to prove we didn't do anything wrong?"