Thursday, December 17, 2009

It Jus Got Buck in Her

I may not be "ghetto" so to speak, but my love for bubble jackets and moves on the dance floor prove otherwise. To be clear, I wouldn't consider myself ghetto, but instead I would say I am street enough to distinguish the truly buck from those who be frontin'. Now, would I say that the So You Think You Can Dance stage is a place that gets real hood? Hmm...well... Sure it crumps. Sure it emotionally hip-hops. Sure it features Lil C as an "educated" voice on the topic of dance. But is SYTYCD in itself ghetto? Surely NOT.

Which is why my reaction to the season 6 finale is still tasting a bit sour as I continue to chew on it. And yes, I'm aware I've had weeks to get over Jacob losing to Russel but it still doesn't sit right in my stomach. Accepting that Russel mindfucked the audience with his amateur sweet boy routine is like putting my GERD-ridden digestive system on the hot tamale train. I ALWAYS loved Russel--but more for his quiet humility rather than his killer moves. Once Kat announced he won and we were left with a shirtless fake-cripple, all my love for Russel was... well... "crumped."

"You mah boy! Gettup hea! Dis guy has been wit me since the beginning!" Yeah... no thanks, Russel. Save it for your next television appearance on I Love New York. If I could have any positive reaction to his obscene one, it would be Jacob's "I am way too gay to be present for this" hand gesture. Apparently winning the title is also miraculous, in that it can heal the lame and make them crump. Big fat faker. What happened to the knee, crybaby? Also, was I the only person under the impression that Russel was an untrained dancer? Apparently he's been dancing in classes since the age of 3 to keep him off dem streets.

Oh well. Jacob, if you can read this... I think you're incredible. And not winning the show is probably for the best. The best dancers really never win after all... sigh...

"Land of Cheaper Gas and the Upper Middle Class"

The Colbert Report

Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Alicia Keys - Empire State of Mind (Part II) Broken Down
Colbert Report Full EpisodesPolitical HumorU.S. Speedskating

Dear Bethany,

Thank you for showing me how to post videos on my blog. You are my blogging guru.

Dear Lizzy,

Thanks for the video.

Dear America,


Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Attack of the Snagleteeth, Badly Dressed, and Old

Throughout my years of maturity, I've found that I've been able to grow a taste for many things I originally found detesting: mayonnaise, brussel sprouts, tomatoes, furry boots, hair extensions, DFMOs, liquor... just to name a few. And yet over the years, I've never been able to mature to the point where I could find a liking for one thing in particular: the uglies.

You heard me right; I'm referring to those poor souls who were "beaten with the ugly stick," or "fell from the ugly tree," or have the face of an undecipherable animal. Now, I'm sorry if I've offended any of you unfortunate looking folk. Though, if you're a friend of mine I would venture to say you're not an ugly (my heart does not befriend uglies).

My need to vent at the expense of the uglies stems from NBC and its idea of a Glee-substitute (like something of the sort could ever exist), The Sing Off. My roommate and I have been curled up on the couch this week with dinner and a bottle of wine, both of us expecting something beautiful! And exciting! And beautifully exciting! What were we left with? Mediocrity and an inner mantra of "womp. womp. womp."

Now, in the show's defense, sure--glee clubs in real life are not ordinarily made up of beautiful Broadway stars, cool jocks and cheerleader types. However, to subject America to snagleteeth, ugly sweaters, sequin overload, and old ladies is an absolute cruelty! Yeah I know... it's not a beauty competition; but to be perfectly frank, they can't sing all that well either. In fact, since the show's premiere, I've been able to count 4 single people solo-worthy for national television: From "Voices of Lee," the girl who sang "No One" and the guy who sang "Freedom," from "The SoCals" the girl who sang "Already Gone," and from "Nota" (my personal fave) the guy who sings all the time.

Other than that, we are left with "The Beezelbubs" who, though charming, have collectively together seen one pair of breasts their whole lives (I mean, I have to assume that one of them were breastfed) and "Maxx Factor," a female barber shop quartet from Baltimore who are all far past the prime of life. Sadly enough, "Noteworthy" was kicked off last night despite an applaudable rendition of one of my guilty pleasures, Wilson Phillips' "Hold On." But, there's only enough ugly for one stage! Thank GOD for Nick Lachey and Nicole Scherzinger or The Sing Off might be mistaken for a TV remake of The Goonies.

An Ode to the 4 Time Golden Globe Nominated: GLEE!

You can give me Idol. You can give me The Sing Off. But you will never take my Glee.

-William Wallace

Three things I pray: To see Glee more clearly. To love Glee more dearly. To follow Glee more nearly. Day by day by day.

-Gaylord Foker

And fare Glee well, my only Love, and fare Glee well a while! And I will come again, my Love, though it were ten thousand mile.

-Robert Burns

How do I love Glee. Let me count the ways.

-Elizabeth Barret Browning

One, Two, Glee... Finn and Quinn and Artie. Gettin down with 3P. Everybody loves Glee.

-Brit Brit

And YOU and YOU and YOU... you're gonna love GLEE!

-Amber Riley

A much deserved conGLEEtulations to the perfectly adoreable and hilarious cast of Glee for their 4 Golden Globe nominations in their freshman season!

-Jane Lynch: Best Supporting Actress in a series, miniseries, or TV movie.

-Lea Michelle: Best Actress in a comedy

-Matthew Morrison: Best Actor in a comedy

-Glee: Best comedy!

While I do hope that Glee cleans up shop at the globeys... I'm especially crossing my fingers that the TV gods bestow their best luck on Jane Lynch. Ever since I heard the words: "You think THAT'S hard? Try living with hepatitis--now THAT'S hard," I knew she was destined for countless statuettes.

And though I will be limitlessly sadder on Wednesday's until April, it brings a little song to my heart knowing that I will be able to catch the Gleeks on my second favorite silver screen venue... the red carpet. Oh yeah... I'll be making sure Santa brings me Season 1 Part 1 on DVD for Christmas. Yayyy Santa!

Thursday, December 10, 2009

America, Why Have You Forsaken Me?

I have a new found appreciation for the term "hump day." As it so happens, I've recently equated my television viewing cycle to an orgasm. A long, long, O which climaxes on Wednesday with Glee. Now may I say thank god for Glee; Without it, I would have gotten some serious blue balls with the results of Wednesday's SYTYCD elimination show. Thanks a lot, America... you cock-blocks, you.

The So You Think You Can Dance viewers have made a mistake of catastrophic proportions. Yes, it's true... Ryan, the walking spray tan, will be competing in the show's finale this week over everyone's favorite B-boy, Legacy. Ryan's pathetic tearful performance on Tuesday night may have won the ignorant over, but not I. I know better; the "tears" in question were actually excess tanner streaking down his cheeks. That shit stings! I'd cry too.

Yes... after mambo-ing his shiny shirts away, Ryan begged America to vote his wifey, Ashleigh, into the finals despite the fact that she did not even dance last week. Now don't get me wrong, I'm as big of an Ashleigh fan as they come; But just because the teenyboppers think it would be cute for the finale to be couples night we will let that man-booger bump Legacy out of the competition?! Ugh... so unfair.

As a tribute to the eye-candy wonder that is Legacy, I will vow to remain shirtless all day. Sure, this will prove to be awkward in the workplace but I see no better way to support the man, the myth, the Legacy.

...eek it's cold in here.

Editors Note: My BFF just sent me an e-card. I have revised this post's picture to showcase it. Thanks, KDoggy.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Nassau County... Enchanted Forest of my Youth

Dear Gossip Girl,

Thank you for turning Nassau County into the mystical, fantastical story book paradise I always hoped it would be. A place where the streets are lined with white wooden fences and the trees are as plentiful as the Garden of Eden. A place where silver wolves roam free in the moonlight, frolicking through the mist to the sweet songs of nightingales. A place so quiet and uninhabited that you could crash a car on a major street, crawl out unharmed, move the passenger to the drivers seat and hitch a ride with a getaway car. A place so far removed from the business of Manhattan it would require Nate Archibald to sigh and say "how long until we get to Nassau County?"

Well guess what Nate, by the time you spit the words out, you were probably already there. In truth, Nassau County is a whole lot less storybook and a whole lot more... well... "howyadoin." Yes, as a native Nassau Countian, I have the authority to paint the picture of what might have really happened when Serena drove half an hour from the city to join Tripp in the act of home wrecking:

First she'd drown in the sounds of techno before being surrounded by a sea of blow outs. Then they'll force her to wear acrylic nails, dye her hair black, rock too much gold jewelry and wear some variation of Ed Hardy. Then she and Trip would make it a night out at Glo where they can meet Jwow (Yes, the Jersey Shore star is actually from my home town. Yeah... we're ecstatic about it). From there they'll dance the night away on a cocaine high that would make even Serena chant "Jagerbombs." Then she'll probably also hallucinate about Bart Bass as creepily as Chuck did (Um... THAT was weird). From there, she'll pass out, and the ambulance would come and NOT take her to Nassau Grace hospital (because... well... it doesn't exist). Eek... but traffic would be so heinous it won't make it to the hospital on time. Sorry, Serena... you dead.

Ok... wow! I've gotten a little out of hand here. While the gross misrepresentation of my silly little home made me a wee bit upset, there was some heart wrenching moments that even made this Long Island bitch shed a tear. Example A: The Chuck-to-Blair forehead smooch (Gets me every time). Example B: A sleeping Natey-poo at Serena's bedside. Every girl deserves a pet.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Mr. Shu Finally Grows a Pair

It wasn't such a great day for Mr. Schuster on Wednesday. First homeboy has to fork over a check to by an ad in the school's own yearbook so that the Gleeks can get a measly photo op. Then he's forced to step down as Glee club director because the kids went diva rogue on his ass. Then he finds out that his sociopathic wife has been lying about her pregnancy for months (which of course means that the poor guy hasn't gotten laid in quite a while). Then he's forced to sleep on a discount mattress that you KNOW put knots in his back (woof... they were like 3 inches thick!).

Does it suck? Sure it does. But you can't argue that red-in-the-face isn't a hot color for Mr. Shu. To be honest, I was never able to shake the theater-queen vibes that he sends out there until I saw him rip off the Mrs.' fat suit. People argue it was a little intense; well in that case, slap my ass and call me Richard because I LOVE intensity. It's pretty much my favorite thing... you know... besides marching and sancerre. Seeing Mr. Shu get mad was like watching Mr. Rogers pull a Whitney Houston (Please click here). I've always been a fan of sweater vests and passion--now put your hands together.

The real victim here is not Mr. Shu. No, it's Quinn. Poor girl is doing the bravest thing a woman her age can do and with no help of her dingo parents or Terri-ble Schuster. Thank God she has Finn--but I can't say for how long... He made bedroom eyes at me at the Glee luncheon. Yes. That's right.

Well folks, when the clock strikes midnight my mourning process will begin. Yes, tomorrow marks the day of the Glee fall finale. We'll then be forced to wait until April to get our weekly dose of gleefulness. I blame FOX for my seasonal depression.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Ooh Watcha Say

Ooh Watcha Say... Serena's low cut dress really accentuated her adultering whoreness. Though, it was really really pretty.

Ooh Watcha Say... I'm still confused as to why we are supposed to believe that Vanessa if half black. Is she adopted? Oh, and V, please quit it with all of these "new face" comments; Dan's probably just constipated.

Ooh Watcha Say... I'd really like to see how Jonathon can strike war against queen Jenny of the underworld. How does he plan on doing it exactly? Borrowing Adam Lambert's stylist and makeup artist to disquise himself as Jenny in order to sabotage her?

Ooh Watcha Say... I was pretty convinced that Lilly's big secret was that she was in rehab, but I pray to the gossip gods that it's something a bit more scandalous. I just hope that poor Rufus grows finally grows a set. That man is far too sexy to be walked over in Louboutins.

Ooh Watcha Say... Aww Natey-poo. You've been blinded by the blonde. I'm sorry that your love token is side-talking home wrecker. It's a good thing you have Chuck Bass as a BFF. And you get to live with him. And you get to see him in his underwear. And you get to smell his clothes. No wait... sorry... that's just my late night fantasies talking.

Blame it on the Al-a-a-al-co-hol

Blame it on the vodka blame it on the henne... blame it on the club soda? Who are you trying to fool, chief? Last time I pulled that act I was in high school, swiggin' stolen 20-year-old vodka from my parent's liquor cabinet straight out of a Poland Spring bottle while going to third base under the boardwalk. In answer to your question it was Grey Goose and yes... that makes it classier.

Grey's Anatomy is on a brief hiatus which I personally find ironic seeing as the current central storyline involves the chief taking a hiatus from sobriety. The bad news? The chief is off the wagon. The good news? At least there's a reason behind him being mind-blowingly manstrual lately. The best news? He's got booves. Sure, I'll explain...

Booves, or booze-induced dance moves, usually occur at the point right before you throw up. In most cases, true booves come out right before the drink that ends the night. You may be thinking to yourself, "I have great booves." Wrong. No one has great booves. In fact, you would never know whether or not you do as you are likely to be black out when they occur. Traditional booves involve lots of swaying, nodding, and slow-motion twirling. If you're fancy (like the chief) your arms rise eye level because, let's face it, that's as far as your body will allow them to go when holding a beverage. Classic booves may also involve a tumble and/or wipe out. Wake up with a mystery bruise? Must have been a boove.

As I consider myself an authority on booves (a. because I made up the term and b. because I'm a dancing drunken fiend) I can say with certainty that dance booves also have the chance of turning into bedroom booves. Yes, again booze-induced moves. Waking up next to a tall dark and handsome may be the only indication that you had some great booves.

**Editors note: At the time this post was posted, I was unaware that the term "booves" was already in existence. Yes, according to Urban Dictionary, "booves" is the plural form of "boof," an unshaven pubic area. Weirdly enough I find this awesome. It stays.

Monday, November 23, 2009


"My sexual radar is unparalleled." You knew it, a Blair quote. While my favorite former Queen of Constance spent the majority of last week's episode playing back up dancer to the saga that is manage a trois aftermath, her unmatched intuition of all things sexytime played first fiddle. Of course Serena and Tripp would dive head first into the arms of adultery. Of course Dan is an idiot for taking both his girlfriend and his gbff to pumptown on a bike made for three. Of COURSE Lady GaGa would put on a rediculously sexy secret concert for the members of the NYU Tisch students. And why, you ask? Blair said so... bitch.

More than being the moral voice of the hibbity dibbity, Blair also donated her ingenuity to the arts in efforts to create a modern day re-creation of Snow White with the musical inspiration of Tisch alum, Lady Gags. Confused are we? I don't see why. All fairytales lend themselves to freaky shit. Think about it. Alice in Wonderland... hallucinogenics. Peter Pan... "fairy dust?" that seems code for cocaina. Cinderella... prostitution (alright this one may be a stretch, but how else do you explain getting all dolled up to seduce a man with buttloads of cash the first night you meet him). Snow White... Lady GaGa, an addictive drug in her own right. Yes, moral of the story is that fairy tales are R-rated and mis-targeted. No wonder kids are growing up fast these days.

So, as a pre-Thanksgiving treat (and seeing as all shows will be repeats this week... gripes), I leave my loyal readers this video as a tribute to my girl Gags. My apologies for the nonsense dialogue that interupts this masterful work of art. No, Olivia, we don't care that you are leaving NYU to persue bad movies in the likeness of your real-life ego. No, Vanessa, we don't care that the homosexual cabaret president has a fake lady-beard crush on you. And no, Dan, we don't care... ever.

Also, I would like to dedicate this post to my boyfriend and his Lady GaGa fetish. Think that's weird? Suckit... It's my blog and personally I think it's hot.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Nigel Likes it Dirty

There's only one reason behind the fact that Karen and Ryan remain on the SYTYCD stage: Nigel likes it dirty. Sure in Ryan's case, it's because his face looks like he rolled around in a pile of clay mud. But Karen? Ohh Karen puts the whore in "Wow that girl is a great big whore."

To dance for her life last Wednesday, Karen rubbed one out on stage. Apparently that's what you have to do on So You Think You Can Dance to be considered "a performer" (Yes, that's what Nigel called her). Chasse, plie, pirouette, pas de bourree... consider yourselves old news. Dance talent now lies in the hands of the good people at (Please don't click that link if you're looking for Bible verses). The 27-year-old latin ballroom dancer made a name for herself when she tried out for the show with her husband. Days later the couple ended their marriage. Hmm my senses tell me she may be a bit sexually frustrated, no?

I also have it on good authority (I've been told I have phenomenal natural insticnts) that she's been doing the nasty with her dancing partner, Kevin. He was kicked off the show last week because... well... he sucked like a hoover, but not before a tearful goodbye from Karen. It will be interesting to see the sexual chemistry between her and new partner, Victor. He seems like he's really into vajayjay. Or not.

"I Thought You Would Call Me"

If there's one thing I've learned about guys in my short 23 years of trying to understand them, it's that they're not quite the sharpest angles in the rhombus (sorry fellas, I have a point I'm getting to. Swear). What I'm trying to say is that our man friends need everything completely spelled out for them. While they argue we speak in code, we argue that they can't decipher it and are in turn graced with the mental capacity of a meatball. So for the sake of editorial cohesion, I offer the male readers a short yet valuable lesson: "Babe, does my ass look bad in this dress?" does not mean "I want you to thoroughly analayze and critique the way my short hem line gives you a hearty taste of the celulite." No, it means "tell me I have a hot ass or you won't be able to tap it for a LONG time."

In true female code last week on Grey's, Dr. McNew Cardio Goddess says to Dr. McFirecrotch, "I thought you would call me." And yes, in true male confusion, Hunt merely nods, raises an eyebrow, and smiles nervously. We veiwers are then led to believe that he is uncomfortable with the recent outpouring of romantic feelings. However, I offer another opinion: he doesn't get it.

Sorry for doubting the ability for a man, a doctor at that, to recognize the smoke signals and send in rescue efforts, but in all seriousness the facial expression says it all. In fact, you know he's thinking to himself "but I did call, didn't I? Isn't that why she's here at Seattle Grace? I did dial and she did pick up right?" Silly Hunt, all the lady's trying to say is that she wants to get it on.

And in that respect, let me be the first to say SUKIT Dr. McNew Cardio Goddess. We finally have a good thing going here between Cristina and frotch. If things go sour for those two we may have another monumentally ugly cry on our hands and THAT is not something we'll be able to forgive you for.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009


As some of you may know, I recently upped out and moved into Manhattan. Here I am thinking I have the world at my fingertips; "The place where you can get whatever you want whenever you want at a moment's notice," some say. Well, all I asked Manhattan for is an apartment walking distance from my office and a decent cable provider to satiate my above-average television needs. I just found out my office is moving to SoHo and my Time Warner DVR just stopped recording GLEE half way through last week's episode! Good thing I watched it online! Phewwwwffff.

In brighter news, I'm happy to report that it is possible to put light-up wheels on your wheelchair! Yes, Artie's wheelchair is totally pimped in this episode, equipped with wheels serving as the disabled equivalent to LA Gear light-up sneakers (damn I used to rock those hard back in the day). In addition to being flashy, the wheels surely stimulated some toungin' between Artie and Tina (favorite line of the episode: "I want to make very clear that I still have total use of my penis"). May I take a moment to give some well-deserved applause for Long Island's own Jenna Ushkowitz! Way to work it, girl!! The NYCHSAA would be so proud!

The whole gang sported chairs of the wheeling variety in last week's episode, and to my surprise, they all were surprisingly agile with the exception of Rachel (totally awk in the last number). More importantly, the gang held a bakesale. Most importantly, Puck leveraged the cupcakes as snacks for the mary-jane munchies. I mean, let's face it... there's nothing better than a cupcake when you're Mary Magdelened.

Also, I can't say that I wasn't peeing my boyshorts in excitement knowing that "Defying Gravity" and "Proud Mary" were the selected songs of the evening. I also can't say that I didn't spend Saturday night having a Glee karaoke fest in my living room (Who's the coolest blogger on the block? This guy!). I also can't say that I'm still slightly jealous whenever Cory Monteith has a romantic scene with anyone who isn't me, ya know, after we made bedroom eyes with each other at a Rolling Stone event. Yeah... that happened.

There's not much topping that. Until tonight! TGIW!

Monday, November 16, 2009

Mr. Crankypants Gets a Leatha Blaza

Last week on So You Think You Can Dance, Nigel made Wednesday the new Friday by pairing his casual leather blazer with a side of bitchy. Some may think that it was the unbreathable material that got him all hot and bothered, but I assure you, friends, we're dealing with a case of monthly manstruation.

manstruation: n. the state of being generally pissy and vaginal. Only applicable to males.

Bob is manstruating. He just told me to f*ck off after I merely asked him to wipe large chunks of pop tart off of his expense report. (Thanks UD)

Every so often we see the diva flare up in Nigel. However, now with Mia no longer on the show, there's no other manstual cycle to balance out his. Eek. Well, I'm no doctor, but I'm thinking Nigel needs to be put on the pill STAT to regulate these bitch fits. Right now I'm sure Nathan is slipping some seasonique into his scotch until Paula Abdul finally shows up with something stronger.
Yes, Nathan took the brunt of Nigel's verbal lashing. But the primary accusation was that Nathan was attractive and that all the ladies love him? Hm. Now this is a case of manstruation if I ever heard one. Bitchy bloated and jealous. I think Nigel's ready for his vagina.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Orangeya Glad I Didn't Say Spray Tan

From an aesthetic standpoint, there are very few things more offensive than a bad fake tan (like roadkill art, for example... Yes it exists). However, our token ballroom-guy on this season of SYTYCD, Ryan "the married guy on the DL" Di Lello, puts the offense in offensive when it comes to his unsightly glow. I write to you all now not just as a begrudged writer or amateur television critic, but as a concerned citizen of humanity. To be frank, that tan is not only unattractive, but it is dangerous. Here are some reasons why:

1. Impending blindness: Sure growing up doctors have always told us to not sit so close to the TV, and did we listen? Maybe. But now we are living in a world where men and women on television and the real world alike use their bodies as weapons, allowing their overly florescent skin to strike war against the eyes of onlookers. People, our fragile purveyors of sight lack the capabilities to stand up against such unnatural brightness. *Side note: If you don't look directly at the skin, you should remain unharmed.

2. Fatal Misstep: With a tan as distracting as Ryan's, it's a miracle that we have not seen more foot stomping or lift dropping in his and Ellenore's performances. Think about it--the eyes are instantaneously drawn to the cheddar-colored chest, not a spot point. Let's just hope the choreographers don't throw in shenae turns in upcoming numbers.

3. Threat of adultery: Let's not forget that the captain of cheese himself has a wifey who's on the show as well; a wife, who I may add, is limitlessly hotter than him. Seeing as she's probably never seen her husband's face because the glow is so blinding, it isn't unreasonable to think that she would jump in bed with an oompa loompa or even a pumpkin and not even realize the difference.

Aside from the tan being dangerous, it also creates an completely unjust environment. The tan was so blinding last night, that the judges actually commended Ryan for his life-sucking attempt at hip hop. Poor Ellenore; she was so much better than he was and took all the criticism. On that note, the judges need to stop trying to level the playing field. Give acclaim where it is due and not where it isn't (And yes, that means no applause for the tan).

One, Two, Three...

I was never very good at sharing. As a child, my mother would always make me share my barbies with my sister and as a result I would chase her around our room with scissors, threatening her life. In high school, I wouldn't so much as share my lunch with friends even though I was on the cheerleader diet of caffeine and spirit fingers. Yes, it's safe to say that I never jumped on board with the whole "what's mine is yours" virtuous crap. So you can imagine what my reaction would be if I were ever asked to share my man with another ho in the act of love: STEP OFF BITCH.

Last night on GG, Olivia was none so selfish. After initiating a steamy make out sesh between Dan, Vanessa, and herself, the trio hopped in the sack and got right to the business of sharing. Bert and Ernie would be so proud.

My question is, however, how exactly are the politics of the threesome worked out? I couldn't imagine that this is all played by ear or the mess that would ensue would be as monumental as the aftermath of the Yankees ticker tape parade. Who decides who goes where? Who goes first? Do you take turns? Or is it like an assembly line? Seeing as we weren't able to actually watch the threesome in its entirety last night (thanks a lot, network television), I'm forced to use my imagination to decide what really happened during the trihump.

My first instinct is that Olivia took the whip and made some demands. After all, this human anatomy study group was entirely her idea. Plus, let's not forget that she's the actress here and is completely at ease with putting on a show for a third party. If this be the case, I offer nothing but applause. Thank you, Gossip Girl, for allowing Lizzie Maguire to be a sexual predator and reminding us all what the show is all about. Readers may know that I had serious doubts about Hillary Duff joining the cast, but I am rendered speechless and satisfied.

On the other hand, of COURSE Dan Humphry would be the lucky man to get down and dirty with two beautiful women at once. Now there's a surefire way to give the least desirable cast member another reason to be smug and arrogant. Why not Chuck, I ask!? Why not Nate?! Hell I'll take Rufus over Dan. Maybe next week Dan will break up Bradgelina and run off with Angie and the kids. Let's get real... with the way things have been working out for the book-nerd from Brooklyn, anything is possible.

Oh right... I almost forgot about the third leg of the tripod; but if my assumptions are correct, I would imagine that Olivia and Dan did too. The scene I picture is quite clear: Vanessa trying to get into a two-person twister game a little too late. Hand here, leg there. Someone's GOT to be left out and... well... based on the facts, our poor little Vanessa undoubtedly pulled the short straw. It doesn't help that her hair was looking particularly rats-nesty last night--the happy couple probably didn't want to get too close for fear of lice. But don't fret V, now since you've further explored your sexuality think of all the creative outlets it may inspire. Goodbye documentaries, hello porn!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Stacey is the new Mia

Bold statement... I know. With the exception of the bad hair and question of sexual preference, Stacey Tookey has proven to the So You Think You Can Dance world that something good DOES come out of Canada besides hockey, maple syrup, and Niagara Falls (which, by the way you ignoramuses out there should know we share). After we pulled a Steinbrenner and stole SYTYCD Canada's best choreographer for ourselves, she has been stepping it up, proving to Mia that you don't need to be a scary-diva-bitch to create something beautiful. If you don't know who I'm talking about you should a) be ashamed b) watch the damn show and c) visit the below for a taste as to what Stacey has provided the states thus far:

Season 5: "Falling Slowly" Karla and Jonathon
Described as a "chance encounter between two strangers," this number would make even Lance Bass believe Jonathon was straight. The sexual chemistry that sizzled over the bunson burner that was Stacey's debut choreography made my panties want to "fall slowly" as well. My one problem with the performance was that I'm saddened to say I've never had a chance encounter end in moonlight dancing at pumptown. Oh well... here's hoping.

Season 5: "All I Want" Kayla and Brandon
Oh the classic tale of sexy blonde mistress meets shirtless married man with a body chiseled by angels. Shame on you, those who judge; this number put adultery at the top of everyone's bucket list. Seeing as Brandon holds Kayla up above his head for... eh... 98% of the dance, it's obvious here who likes it on top. And yes, Stacey, we love your style.

Season 6: "2 Steps Away" Katryn and Legacy
Last week, this little ditty blew everyone away. Danced by that girl that cries and that guy with a head made out of steel, this number symbolized being held back by fear. Though, yes, a little reminiscent of Mia's addiction number from season 5, but it made us squeal in awe nonetheless. Hell, I wish my fear followed me around in the form of a dreamy BBoy--especially one that can transcend all limitations of the human body. Yum, Legacy.... and "congratulations to the pair of you."

Who's Your Daddy?

Hmm... I don't know if you are aware, but my New York Yankees are once again World Series Champions!!!!! Not only does this victory bring the much deserved title back to the Bronx where it belongs, but it also marks the return of my human existence. For an entire week now I've woke up hung-over. I've missed Gossip Girl and Grey's Anatomy; HIMYM and Modern Family. I've had limited conversation with my Philthy-loving boyfriend. I've sacrificed my body to beer, wings, and the skipping of the gym. Was it worth it? Hell yeahhh to ya moms, we came to drop bombs!

The boys really brought it together this series: Matsueeeeeeet with his game winning performance last night, Brett Gardner and his unbelievable catch, CC, Tex, Pettitte, and Captain Jeter, the heart of the city. And despite what cranky Philly managers are saying, it didn't just come down to "timely hitting." It came down to heart. The pinstripe wonders christened a new stadium... a new era... in a new New York with a championship title that puts the empire in Empire State. Yeah, I said it. This IS the concrete jungle where dreams are made of. Tomorrow, as the team makes their way from Battery Park up the Canyon of Heroes to Chambers Street, New Yorkers of all ages will be able to look at anyone on the street and know that person is feeling the same thing they are: pride. Moreover, millions of dollars will be generated for small business. First step game 6... next step out of this recession.

Let's hear it for New York---NEW YORK!

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Don't be a Fool... Wrap your Tool

Let's say you're a dude. Now let's say you're a dude, who's kind of a loser, who's dating a movie star that wants to get it on...with you. You're kind of on top of the world, are you not? Yes, that's what sanity would lead you to believe. This is not the case, however, with Dan Humphry, an apparent self-righteous prude currently hiding out in Brooklyn. When GG snapped a pic of his starlet grabbing some goodies for a possible late night trip to pump town, Dan's initial reaction wasn't making a mix tape, or setting mood lighting, or even unloading the gun; no, it was to play sick.

Now, in his defense, he and Olivia did bump no-nos by the end of the episode, but granted it was in a college dorm. Not that there's anything necessarily wrong with dorm room sex--I just can't help but to recall the niceties involved when Serena took his V-Card. You all remember what I'm talking about... the fake snow, the projected lighting, the white pillows. For all we know, Olivia probably doesn't mind at all. If she's looking to be a "real girl" there's nothing more real than gettin down in an uncomforable twin-xl dorm bed with a sock on the door. Welcome to college, Olivia... we're happy to see that you like it on top.

In other news, Serena may also find herself in a movie star's sheets in the next coming episodes, and let me be the first to say, vom. It's not a mystery why Olivia's ex-boyfriend from all of those "vampire" movies is named Patrick Robinson. Hell to the no, GG, if you think "Simon Miller" can step any where near Robert Pattinson's shoes. I wish I had fangs... I'd bite you for even thinking such hypocrisy!

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Part 2 Season 6 Premiere... Of that Show that Needs No Introduction

This season in SYTYCD, we have been graced with a married couple with one on the DL, a tap dancing muppet who does poetry, a serial crier, and a coked out cheerleader. This may be a bold statement, but I'm going to have trouble forming an emotion connection with the top 20 this season. So far, nobody has been able to do it for me since Season 4. I miss Twitch, and Joshua, and Chelsea, and Kerrington; hell I'll even branch out and throw love for Janine Mason. Season 6 better shed the acts and get real.

I won't harp on the bad, however. There was a lot of good tonight (cough cough wink wink Travis Wall). One of the best routines I've ever seen on the show was the contemporary number lil Trav put together. Props to Bianca---if she shuts up long enough to actually dance she can do a pretty stellar job. And mah gurl, Sonia; again, she kills it with the choreography. My heart goes out to Eleanor, though; being paired with the captain of cheese can't be the easiest task to take on. It could be worse, however--you could be stuck with Phillip. Ugh the thought itself makes me cringe.

If you didn't watch tonight's performance... stop reading. They threw us for a curve when the judges decided on who to boot of first this season. Again, Nigel must be sucking at the brandy teet because kicking off Ariana? Not cool for me. I would have much rather seen Pauline or Channing get the axe. Oh well, maybe gimpy won't make it back next week and Ariana can return to the show and bitch slap Mary. I always wanted to see someone do that.

Enough for now. Goodnight kids. I leave you with this: "Congratulations to the pair of you"

Part 1 Season 6 Premiere...Of that show that needs no Introduction

Holy Wade Robson it's back again. After about three and a half months of audition rounds (yes... that was an exaggeration--but not a big one), SYTYCD is yet again back in our lives. This season they switched it up in more ways than one. Most obviously, the opening creds no longer feature the signature head dive which we all knew and loved. Most dissapointingly, they're sticking with the stage from Season 5's finale. Woof.

In addition to new cosmetic alterations, we have some so-serious changes happening on the judging panel. First and foremost... lucky us get to cry EVERY week now that Adam Shankman has become a permanent figurehead behind the almighty table. The angel of words himself will dazzle you with his loquatious outpourings of love while the angel of vodka will sumble to do the same. That's right, it's also been announced that Paula Abdul will be a recurring guest judge on the show this season. Something tells me that Nigel had a few too many snifters of brandy before making that decision.

I've always been a firm believer that the more you drink, the better dancer you are. That's why I don't really have a problem with this whole "Paula Abdul guest judge" nonsense; maybe her breath will intoxicate the dancers and it'll be like my Saturday night all over again. Think about it... how hot would it be if all the couples lost their inhibitions and started full out grinding out on the D-floor? I have no doubts this is the reason why Mia decided to peace the show. Well, in all honesty, judging from her recent haircut it's quite possible that the show quit her. Everyone knows that there's no ugly people allowed on SYTYCD! If you don't know what I'm talking about... please click here.

Now let's discuss who we love and hate:


-Arianna, Ellenore, Karen, and Noelle: They pretty much dominated all the girls last night and didn't get as much credit as deserved.

-Jacob, Nathan, Russel, and Peter: The first three because they're amazing--the last because I think he's kind of dreamy


-Mollee: If this girl wasn't 18 I would stamp a scarlet C on her chest. This cracked out Lizzy Maguire is way too laced bubble-gum for my liking. The fact that she dances like a four-year-old doesn't help either.

-Phillip: I spent all last night trying to figure out which muppet Phillip's stupid tap dancing face reminds me of. I came to the conclusion that it was a cross between Burt and a character from Avenue Q. Hate the attitude, hate the face, and hate hate HATE the slam poetry.

-Ashleigh: Yeah she's hot... but lord knows she's a wench behind the curtain. I would too if I married a gay--it's quite clear that her sexual frustration is making her a bitch.

And there you have it folks... Dance it out.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Like... What?

Chuck is Bi?! Vanessa is black?! Hold the phone... what in the name of Constance is happening in Gossip Girland?! I feel like I know nothing anymore; last night's episode has got me doubting my own name. Like this morning, I walked into work, was greeted by my boss, and checked all the wires on my desk to make sure I wasn't being tapped. If you can't trust Gossip Girl who can you trust? The answer? No one.

"You don't think I ever kissed a guy before?" Oh Chuck Bass, you smoldering sexpot, you. Way to throw a platinum-plated curveball into this storyline. Who would have thought that the ultimate ladies man himself would take a liking to the peen. I mean, he does dress entirely too well to be completely straight... I guess this was always coming. Straight guys are never that smooth.

And yes, Vanessa is a beautifully exotic young woman. But just because she has the inate ability to wear dreads, were we to assume that she was black? That was a fun and unexpected twist for a character that needs some serious action this season. And may I be the first to say that she is finally becoming interesting to me. I mean, NO ONE likes a voice of reason or morale. Hell yes, Vanessa... throw down your homeschool values and get bitchy. When Vanessa got to scheming last night, I nearly rose to my feet in applause. To be honest, this proves my theory: put a hot girl in a dorm and you will get a bitch. It's science.

Speaking of Vanessa, it more than obvious that the stress of college is getting to her... and her face. Homegirl needs to stop partying all night and passing out with makeup on; she has a serious pre-teen t-zone situation going on. My suggestion? Korres Cinnamon and Natural Clay Deep Cleansing Mask (for oily skin with imperfections of course). I used it the other night to rectify a similar situation that, lucky for me, wasn't masked in professionally applied stage makeup. I was happy to find that the magical tube helped my skin to balance itself out and well, get a whole lot less crazy.

Monday, October 19, 2009

"I'm So Bad at Liking and Love"

"Well here we are. This is our first official dinner date. I'm really excited that you've accepted my invitation. Id like to make a toast to our new adventure. I'm just so amazed and thankful that God has seen a way for us to be together. May there be many more adventures on the road of our friendship."

Hmm... thanks Ron Burgundy? Nope, that was the loquacious toast brought to you by the renegade man himself, Mr. Lorenzo Lamas. Apparently romance is the word in the Lamas family. During the same episode, Shane found herself wooed by a tasty little dish herself. Their connection happened a little differently, however; Shane has set some pretty high standards for herself and posed a few questions for her man in waiting:

Are you from LA?

Did you go to college?
What college did you go to?
What kind of shoes are you wearing?

Wanna suck some face?

Ohhh if only all MOs were that easy. Well, while making out may be easy for Shane, some thinks ARE difficult: operating a microwave oven, "liking and love," taking out the trash, and many more. I will give her some serious props however for her dining decor and creative use of the telephone. Ohhhh this show is slowly but surely becoming a so serious fave of mine.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Holy Toasted Collagen Batman!

I have a few guilty pleasures: the occasional drunken cigarette, Jennifer Lopez movies, spoonfuls of cream cheese; but after spending a long Saturday night in, I have officially added another one to the ranks: Leave it to Lamas. No... not llamas.

Some of you may know Shane Lamas from her stint on the Bachelor, where she whined and dizzily stumbled her way into the arms of the dreamiest bachelor to date, Matt Grant. Experts have argued that underneath her over-processed blonde hair, she is in fact brainless and has the IQ of an acorn. But despite her disability, she still has a lot of heart. So much so in fact, that her personal mission is to rekindle ties between sexy brother AJ and their father, Lorenzo Lamas (best known for his Oscar-worthy performance in Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus). Think she's a trip? Meet Michele...

Michele is a menopausal collagen addict who lights barbecues indoors and walks around her children's house naked. Experts say that with the amount of collagen she's injected into her lips, she could supply all the connective tissue in an average sized humpback whale. While she is suffering from empty nest syndrome and mild retardation, she still manages to be a devoting mother to Riley, a 3-year-old teacup maltese who, like mom, goes tanning and whores himself out to any bitch that will have him.

Ok that was a little harsh, but I can't help it! Whenever I see a tan that fake my mind automatically switches to ridicule. Maybe Michele can skip a few trips to Encino's Maui Tanning and pick up some Korres Watermelon Lightweight tinted moisturizer. That stuff is so natural, it may make up for all the unnaturalness of the former Mrs. Lamas' face. Ok well, probably not, but it's a start! The stuff is full of antioxidants that counteract sun damage. Hmm... I wonder how much she'll need...

Queen of the Ragdolls

Forgive me if I missed the memo, but since when is heroin-chic the new high school look of the Upper East Side? Yes, ok, Lil J is technically from Brooklyn, but her hot pink tool skirts prove that point enough. Homegirl does not need the running eye shadow and Lady GaGa Rolling Stone hair to be "cool and different." When she was working on Lily's wedding dress during Monday's episode, I nearly called a teen help line to report her drug addiction, and then Ken Paves to nick the ick on the top of her head.

I have a suggestion for Jenny: get yo-self a HairDo. Your Dad is marrying Lily Bass for Chuck's sake--there is NO excuse for bad hair... especially when you're the new queen. Ugh, Blair and her headbands must be so disappointed.

Recently I tried my luck with a HairDo (for those living under a rock, they are the clip-in hair extensions from Ken Paves and Jessica Simpson), and if it worked for me, I have no doubts they will work for Miss J. My hair-mergency happened after a night of raucous drinking, bull riding, and fireball.... yes.... fireball. I woke up at 8:45 for a 9 AM meeting--holy rats nest. Not to fear, though; with a few bobby pins, a clip of the extensions, and a much needed Gatorade, I was good to go.

So please, Jenny, pick one up for yourself. And hey, while you're at it, get one for Vanessa too. I don't know how much more bad hair I can take in a single season.

Friday, October 16, 2009

And the Ugly Crier of the Year Award Goes To...

Throughout my years of avid film and television viewership (aka sitting on my ass, watching TV), I've found that every Hollywood harlet falls into one of two categories: the ugly criers or the pretty criers. The pretty criers, the lesser obvious of the two, consist of the actresses who despite tears, never seem to smudge a single swipe of eyeliner or reveal any hint of snot. Their tears cascade gracefully, at times appearing to fall in slow motion, one single tear after the next. This category is no doubt dominated by the most beautiful crier of all time: Miss Demi Moore. Her gracefully tearful performance in Ghost is by far the prime example of how a lady should shed a tear.

Now to the dogs...

The ugly criers; the snot ridden, makeup smeared, huffing, puffing, drenched faced, tomato red criers who stand by the theory that the uglier the cry, the more theatrical the piece. You know the kind... the criers whose overindulgent sobs make you cringe. So bad, in fact, that instead of evoking any sort of sympathy, your first reaction is to turn to your friend and say "Ew. She looks like shit." You're probably asking yourself where I'm going with this. Well, after last night's episode of Grey's Anatomy, we have a new queen to take the ugly crier throne... Miss Sandra Oh... yes, Oh... as in "Oh wow that is oneeeee ugly crier."

First of all, in last night's episode Cristina Yang whipped out a wallowy weep because she's a medical attention whore (Note: a key to being a pretty crier is to actually cry over something legitimate. Strike One). The real victim here? Poor bed-ridden Meredith; the only person in the room to absorb all of the ugly cry awkwardness (Note: another key to being a pretty crier is to not sob to a bed-ridden patient in a hospital. They cry to you. Strike Two). "I miss Burke! (gurgle, huff, glob, gasp) It's been too long since I've held a heart in my hand! (Guff, yelp, blarf, spibble)." So gross. Next time, Grey's, please keep the crying to the Izzy's and Dr. Bailey's of the show. No one wants to see that.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

On a Scale from One to Adultery... hard is it to cheat? Apparently if you're a desperate housewife it's easier than Linday Lohan on a cocaine withdrawal. Honestly though, haven't we seen an obsene amount of inter-marital nookie throughout the show's near seven seasons? I asked myself that very same question after Sunday night's episode and decided to play a little game called "Add the Adulterers." Let's ALL play:

Well first we know that Julie's dad, Karl, got freaky behind Susan's back thus of course resulting in their divorce prior to the beginning of the show. 1. Then we have the oh-so-sexy Gabby hookin' it with John Tucker affair. 2. Which then led to Carlos' retaliation as he boned the mail order maid (not quite so sexy). 3. And we can't forget when Bree got down with ex-husband, Rex's, pharmacist... who then killed Rex... which means so far we have 4 for adultery and 1 for just plain rudeness.

Phewf... this is getting hard...

Then we have the almost-affair between Tom Scavo and his secret baby momma. We'll call that 4.2. And the countless counts of adultery committed by the late Edie Brit. We'll call that... hmm... 8. Ooo, let's not forget the "my man is in a coma but I'm gonna do a Brit anyway" affair between Susan and Ian Hainsworth. 9. Which then got turned around with the "my man's out of a coma but I'm still with the Brit" affair between Susan and Mike. 10.

Then good ole Gabby is back at it when she cheats on 2nd husband, Victor, with 1st/3rd husband, Carlos (though we do consider it a victory in the name of Karma). 11. And bringing it full circle, Karl Mayer doing the nasty with Bree, a very much married lady. 12.

And there you have it, folks. My stab at it. Being that the show is Desperate Housewives and cheating/scandal/dirty laundry is more or less its entire premise, I know I'm missing... eh... about a thousand. Feel free to comment on the transgressions I've overlooked.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Advice of the Day: Don't Work at Seattle Grace

So I've been moving all week and I'm a little behind on my television, but when I received a text from a friend last weekend saying: "have you watched Grey's? Very interesting info in first 7 minutes," I had to drop the shoes and ravage the DVR. What did I learn? That Izzy and Carev make 30k a year? Please advise?

All of these Seattle Grace questions of finance have really gotten my brain into a tizzy. I write, I plan, I shop, I eat, and I watch TV... I don't do numbers. So you can understand my frustration as I spent the entirety of the episode Googling average medical resident salaries. Yet alas, I find myself victorious... again. Do you hear that? It's the sound of someone getting fired on the research team of the Grey's writing staff.

Below is a list of the US average of residency stipends per year:

- 1st Year (Intern): 46k (The Lexi's)
- 2nd Year: 48k (The Lexi's? Isn't she an intern in her 2nd year?)
- 3rd Year: 50k (The Merediths, the Christina's, the Izzy's, the Carevs, the Georges-RIP)
- 4th Year: 52k (The Merediths et al? How long HAS it been? hmm?)
- 5th Year: 54.1k
- 6th Year: 56.5k (The Bailey's and the Callie's? Yeah... I'm just confusing myself).

So yes... nothing entirely extravegant but no measley 30k. They reserve that special number for the Assistant Media Planners/really important people of the world... ha. Alright already--enough about math! How un-sexy of me.

In other news, can we discuss the Meredith/Lexi sista sista connection? Personally, I'm lovin it. Except don't hold your breath... this won't last for long. Both girls happy with each other and happy in love with their fine-ass men? Something's about to go down real fast.

Monday, October 12, 2009

"We're like really roommates. That's like totally awesome."

The title provided here is not a joke... it is was a line... written into a script... and aired on television. The following is a list of reasons why I believe Hillary Duff will be the ultimate demise of GG:

1. The Lizzy Maguire Effect: Dress her in a fadora, throw her in NYU, bunk her up with Vanessa--no matter how you try to make Hillary Duff relevant to devout Gossip Girl afficianados, all roads lead to "Why is a twelve-year-old in college?" Homegirl's voice belongs one place and one place only: The Disney Channel. If this is part of some disasterous scheming to broaden the GG demographic to a younger audience my vote is one thousand times HELL TO THE NO. I want my steamy sexual scenes, allusions to drug use, and the right to hear "bitch." Comeon... I don't ask for a lot.

2. Let's not give Dan "I try too hard to not be cool" Humphry a bigger head. How is it that the least desirable of all the Gossip guys has hooked it with every out-of-his lead hottie they put in the cast? And now they give him a freaking movie star? Nuh uh... that does not fly.

3. Now don't get me wrong, Hillary Duff is cute; but in a world where the Leighton Meisters, Jessica Szohrs, and Blake Livelys are the girls next door, THAT'S who you get to play a movie star? Granted, it's not easy to out-glam the gossip girls-- but try a little harder... Please?

4. Olivia? You name her Olivia? It's a hard fact that is a name exclusively reserved for brunettes. I would know.

5. Lastly, I leave you with the deepest, most eloquent one-line monolgue ever to pass through my broke down TV set on Mondays at 9: "We're like really roommates. That's like totally awesome."

And to sum up, "Hillary Duff may not be the only demise of Gossip Girl but she WILL be one of many." -Teen

And there you have it. Good night.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

No Pants O'Clock

Ready... Set... Take off your pants.

I was having a particularly shitty evening until I remembered my favorite part about last night's Modern Family episode: Luke hates pants. And why should he like them?! They're binding, inconvenient, and in my case at the moment, cutting into my air supply. Think about it, you have to take off your pants to do anything enjoyable, i.e. poop, have sex, take a bath. The kids got the right idea.

However, to be clear, I can't say with certainty that he actually hates pants OR if he just likes not wearing pants when he jumps on the trampoline with a box on his head. Personally, the sensation of flying through the air wearing cardboard would be enormously anti-climatic should pants be involved. That's just speculation.

So bravo, Luke... (Uhh... Are we supposed to know their last names yet?). Because of your strike de la pant, I'm officially declaring this hour "No Pants o'clock.". Come'on, Ladies! Whip off those Express Editor cut pants you've been wearing all day at the office (and probably smell faintly of today's lunch and your hoohah), and join the party!

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Recession Worthy Programming

Finally... A show that speaks to the financial woes of our nation. Granted, the show I'm speaking of is one about Doctors, so take it with a grain of salt. Grey's new "merging with Mercy West" storyline has proved to be, at least for me, an inventive way of saying to America, "Yes, even we pretty people are in a recession." How refreshing. Though I'm appreciative of this realistic recognition of the life-sucking financial crisis our country is in, I still feel the need to harp on the episode's not so realistic components (as if I would do anything else).

Let's talk layoffs. Are you meaning to tell me that Izzy "I cut LVAD wires" Stevens wouldn't be first on the chopping block? Not only has she been seriously threatened with the ax in the past, but let's not forget her most memorable surgery as a first year resident... that's right... a fucking deer. What an asset. Ok ok, so she has cancer and there's probably some law against it; but if this happened in real life, everyone would suspect she was hookin' it with the chief.

And speaking of the financial situation over there at Seattle Grace, I have a question: If you are a world renowned surgeon, what the hell are you doing living a) in a trailer or b) at your girlfriend's mom's house? Grow a pair, dig deep into those pockets, and splurge on that waterfront villa that you can afford. Hell, buy three while you're at it. Same goes for you too, Izzy and Carev. Stop slummin off of everyone else's ticket and buy yourselves a place where you don't have to vacuum your own poo. That is the part of Grey's anatomy that I'll never understand.

The only doctors that got it right in my book is McSteamy. Did u see his shower last week? Probably not... you were waiting for a peen slip... don't lie.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Desperate... REALLY Desperate

Theres a fine line between good and bad; The Desperate Housewives season premiere not only crossed that line, but buldozed it into oblitieration, leaving audiences confused as to what is actually good tv and what is bad. Thats the problem with Desperate Housewives fans--they too, are desperate... Desperate to hold on to something that was soooo five seasons ago.

Apparently, whenever it finds itself in a funk, the show commits ratings suicide by introducing "new, interesting, and shady" people into the cast. Let me tell you something--if Whisteria Lane really has that quick of a real estate turn over rate, I'm pretty confident if must be seated upon a bubbling pool of toxic waste, or more likely, a pagan graveyard. This season the new neighbors are New Yorkers with a sociopath murderous son. Maybe I'm just being sensitive, but there's no way in hell THAT can be justified; I mean, let's get real... New York pretty boys are far too metro to risk the chance of getting blood on their designer jeans. Now, that's just lazy research.

Despite this, I could have swallowed my pride, sat back, and enjoyed the rest of the episode until the Kathryn/Susan wedding isle showdown. Hell, if you know that some crazy bitch is going to hijack the spotlight on your wedding day you of COURSE book some sort of security detail. God help the hooker that tries to barracade the isle while I'm walking down to "Isn't She Lovely." Stilleto to the face... kabosh. *to clarify, New York guys probably not capable of murder... New York girls totally are.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Like a Welcome Mat

On the season premiere of The City, Whitney debuted her new apartment to the world. So she works part time and has a gorgeous West Village non-shack with a rooftop... Yeah, that's realistic.

Seeing as I've spent the last month of my life apartment hunting in Manhattan, I feel as though I have some authority on the matter. Where as Whitney is putting in if 15 hour weeks at the office and going home to play with a needle and thread, I put in 60 hour work weeks and can only afford a 3rd floor walk up above a Chinese restaurant (and that's if I give up food). What is more is that Whitney has so much space in her apartment that she'll even allow Betty Boop to move in it. Ugh, what are the odds.

More importantly, I love how styling jobs at Elle just "pop up" out of the blue and instead of interviewing to fill them, they offer them to unqualified waifes with a few weeks experience in PR. It shows like these that make me hate NYC... and television... And girls... And my sad little paycheck. Boo.

Thank God the Bitch is Back

Tuesday was a great day. Why, you ask? Well, it was the official day that Lauren "I have the personality of a napkin" Conrad officially became irrelevant. So help me God if I have to listen to that whiney noodle utter another complaint about how she "can't wear prints or white because it doesn't look right on camera," I will throw out every cotton dress in my closet out of protest. Yes, I will rue the day I ever bought a magazine with LC on the cover--same no-spice nonsense on every page.

You know who doesn't give a shit about whites and prints? Mah girl, Kristen Cavalari. Bitches wear black, not flowers. What she does care about is money, seeing as how she is actually interesting in front of the camera and won't piss and moan when a producer asks her to stir some drama. Hand over the check and she'll finger-snap you a half hour timebomb of drama so delicious they'll have to expand her timeslot.

Tuesday night she went so far as trying to get freaky with a sasquatch. To be fair, he's Audrina's ex which would lead me to believe he is not very smart. He also has two first names; which would lead me to believe his parents weren't very smart either. Oh well, looks like a catfight is brewing in the land of the hills (and by catfight I mean cat vs. hairball--you decide).

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

"And He's Not That Dramatic"

Amidst the madness that was my life last week (including a finer moment where I pretended to be back in college and staged a revolt when my younger sister tried to make me leave a freshman football party--yeah, it was a sad day), I almost forgot to blog about my new favorite Fall comedy (and no, Glee does not count... It's in a category all of its own)! My new guilty pleasure? Modern Family. How do I know it's good? Well, like how I know anything is good: I peed my pants a little.

My favorite character by a far is the "cool dad," because, let's get real, aside from the one or two Rufus Humphrys of the world, there really is no such thing. This guy is completely confident that his parenting skills are supremely above those of any conservative father, yet his High School Musical song and dance routines prove otherwise. But in all seriousness, +100 reality points to the writers for this line: "LOL, laugh out loud; WTF, why the face." Yeah, that's about right.

Actually the hysterical reality of the entire show is its primary appeal. I mean, my dad never shot my first boyfriend, but he did send 3 cop cars to his house to lecture him on sexual harrassment. And while my parents never introduced me to the world in native dress with Elton John blasting in the background (please see below), they did put my baptism to music and play it at my 21st birthday party. So there you have it, folks; honest, humorous, and a whole lotta relatible.

Word of the Day: Doppelganger

A doppelgänger is the ghostly double of a living person, a sinister form of bilocation. In the vernacular, the word "doppelgänger" has come to refer (as in German) to any double or look-alike of a person. The word is also used to describe the sensation of having glimpsed oneself in peripheral vision, in a position where there is no chance that it could have been a reflection. They are generally regarded as harbingers of bad luck. In some traditions, a doppelgänger seen by a person's friends or relatives portends illness or danger, while seeing one's own doppelgänger is an omen of death, or results in immediate death upon the two coming face to face. In Norse mythology, a vardøger is a ghostly double who precedes a living person and is seen performing their actions in advance. - Wiki

Thank you, How I Met Your Mother, for bringing such a fun-to-say word to my vocabulary. In last night's episode, they touched upon the doppelgangers of each member of their group--GENIUS! Totes my new favorite word. Before "doppelganger" I tried to fit the word "spleen" into the everyday vernacular; yeah, that's not easy to do. Often times I would find myself having conversations like this:

Person: Hey LT, how's it hangin?
Me: Like a spleen


Person: How are ya?
Me: Pretty spleeny

In fact, I've already this morning referenced the word "doppelganger." Granted, it was for a set a twins walking on the street. Yeah... I'll get better eventually.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Walk of Shame or Stroll of Glory?

Spotted: Dan Humphry leaving Blairgina's room with an open shirt and tousled hair. Boys have no excuse for the walk of shame. Take a second to button up there, tiger.

Let's get real... if Gossip Girl is going to start doing walk of shames, they better do it right. Like the morning after Halloween when you hold your jasmine wig in your hands, eyeliner streaming down your face, and pair your genie pants with your bad-decision-from-the-night-before's Lax Power t-shirt (In good faith, I'll keep that culprit's name disclosed).

That wasn't the only walk of shame this episode, except Blairbear did it with a trench coat and million dollar lingerie. So hot. If I had Blair's bod, screw the trench coat; I'd walk around in my Agent Provocateur silk boy shorts and cami any day. Ugh, and of course Blair and Chuck would roll around on a dorm room floor incessantly checking their blackberries. In fact, they don't even need to talk in bed---they can dirty talk via bbm and it would be equally as sexy.

Speaking of the morning after... Scott, morning study groups? Really? I mean, we know you're only pretending to go to college, but let's try a little harder. The only thing I did in the morning was sleep, puke, walk of shame, or make a desperate Starbucks run in my PJs.

Oh, and one more thing: Carter, malts with one ice cube? Yeah... I'm sure that one cube makes a difference.

Awkward Laughter

Ahhhhhh--sweet release the return hath be upon us. Grey's premiered its 6th (holy crap) season on Thursday with a 2-hour tribute to George's recently-deceased character which was jam packed full of laughs! No... I'm not lying.

What's funnier than Izzy having a laugh attack over George's death, cancer, her friend getting choked out by her lover, or even the poor guilt-ridden sobbing redhead, is this whole "married on a post-it nonsense." Now this is too easy.

So is it safe for me to assume that by the powers vested by post-it, Meredith and Derek are betrothed under God? Well, that very well might be the most unsettling thing I've heard on Grey's thus far (and that includes penis fish).

If this is true, I can say with confidence that I've been married a good 48 times via the vat of love notes I've accumulated from my hopelessly romantic boyfriend, and THAT, friends, includes a leather-bound journal (I have to believe that leather is more legitimate than sticky paper). In fact, my friend probably got married this morning when her boyfriend met her at the train bearing a lengthy hallmark card and love bagel. Nothing says "I take thee" like carbs.

Let's not forget, either, that this isn't the first we've heard about the magical powers of the post-it. As Carrie Bradshaw learned, the post-it has the same ability to break up relationships as it does to consummate them. In that same respect, I have a piece of scrap paper with a song written for me on it by a scorned ex-lover where he more or less kills me leaving me "in a pool of blood." Does that mean that I could be killed via post-it? Hmm something to think about...

What did you see?

Forgive me, it's Monday. Had I written my post about this season's new blockbuster show, Flash Forward, I would be a little less speculative and cranky and a little more cheerleader. But as it is Monday, and I've had a whole weekend to mull over it with a cocktail or 20, I have a few objections:

1. Exactly what kind of super-charged crazy lives do all the show's characters lead that they can completely 180 their lives in 6 months time? And I'm not one to be questioning rapid change in short time either (I am credited with going from 108 lbs to 128 pounds in my first semester of college alone). Seriously though, in 6 months we know that one will have a hot sexy affair with a man she does not yet even know? Hell, it would take a wholeee lot longer than that to get me to meet, love, and sex up someone finer than Joseph Fiennes (he gave me the lady chubb of my life in Shakespeare in Love). ESPECIALLY when you're a doctor. They work, like what? 100 hour days? More suprisingly is that they can search all of the middle east to find a daughter that was once thought dead? That's a little quick.

What's not so surprising is that in 6 months time someone can get all crazy and jump back on the wagon. Speaking of which, may I just say that I love manic bulletin board crazy--it always beats the ripping hair out, head against the wall crazy.

I'm most interested in what slutty babysitter saw. Lord knows the writers probably get her knocked up, have her give birth, and raise a toddler in 6 months. Word to the writers: it takes 9 months to make a baby. I learned that from "The Miracle of Birth."

2. If the entire storyline is based on a flash that brings us to April 2010--that there is a storyline that ends in its first season. I guess ABC is getting pretty comfortable playing Dr. Kevorkian with their lineups. Now they pre-emptively end the show in its very own storyline.

I really shouldn't ask that question, however. We are talking about the creators of LOST here. Somehow I know they'll find a way and keep me hooked like a salmon (prettiest color for bedrooms; so relaxing). However, I can't get on-board yet with this whole "Flash is the new LOST" nonsense; maybe once they introduce Charlie we'll have something to debate about.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

My Boo, the Dancing Foo

I hadn't been a big DWTS regular until last season when the shows's genius execs decided to cast Melissa Rycroft after Jason Mesnick and his beard, Molly, decided to get it on. What kept me an avid fan? That glorious piece of man better known as Mark Ballas.

Hot damn the things I would do to him. When the boys opened the show on Monday night, my lady tickle nearly got the best of me. No wonder he's taken home the mirror ball for the past two seasons in a row--(not that I didn't used to vote for him until my fingers bled or anything. I would sure like his mirror balls). So yes, despite my negative lack of interest in any of the "stars" featured this year, he'll keep me hooked.

So some time last season I was at a bar, drunk as per the usual, and I see my candy Ballas bar from across the way... (So I was convinced). I then use this rare opportunity to showcase my dance skills, which sober are moderate yet drunk are INCREDIBLE; but isn't that always the case. In fact, I go so far as to whip out my super secret "balloon move" where I begin crouched on the dance floor and blow myself up. Well we all know where this story is going... He was instantaneously drawn to me and know we're happily married in a Penthouse apartment in the magical land of Narnia... Duh.

No Headbands in College...

...Says Dan Humphrey. Poor Blair Bear; but in all seriousness, WHAT is she doing at NYU? I know that her dreams of Yale were shot to shit, but homegirl should have picked up a Princeton Review.

Where do I think Blair should have went? Loyola College... Headbands welcome. Ok, I'm a little biased, but come'on! Now that is a school that would appreciate Toro and Tiffany's any day. Sure, Baltimore is no NYC, but every queen must start small.

"Dorms like palaces," "Looks like a catalogue," now these are the things Queen B is really concerned with. Aside from the fact that every girl walking the quad is a Blair clone, she'd be more than satisfied with the selection of trust fund babies for male suitors. Sushi on the meal plan? 5 star gym on campus? Ralph Lauren Loyola attire in the bookstore? Mani pedi shuttle busses? Come'on... Blair better put down the fake glasses and feminist literature and take a taste of the sweet collegiate life.

Now realistically, would a rooftop kegger and common room cocktail suare ever really happen in college? Well, maybe at Loyola... CERTAINLY not at NYU. But other than that, my deepest thanks and respect to the GG writers for keeping it relatively real this past episode. Of COURSE Blair would be a loser at NYU.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Doogie Does It

Second to pirates, my fetish is award shows. They may not be as obviously sexy as Jack Sparrow, but give me an award show, and I'll give you my all night long. Really... they're like really, really long...

Sunday night's Emmy Awards, however, were the perfectly time-proportioned mix of tasteful jokes, tinseltown glam, and NPH. Hats off to Doogie for his serious MC skills. Even my favorite people couldn't help but sing his praises: Justin, Jon Stewart, TINA, Christina Applegate... well actually... had Christina Applegate won as she SHOULD have, I'm sure she would have. RIP Samantha Who. Hold on... I'm actually crying real tears.

Now for the real winners... according to me. Yeah, it's legit:

Best Dress: Olivia Wilde
-1st Runner up: Anna Torv
-2nd Runner up: Blake Lively

Most Awesome Acceptance Speech: Kristin Chenowith
-1st Runner up: Jon Stewart
-2nd Runner up: The writing team from the Academy Awards opening number?

Most robbed of an Emmy: Christina Applegate
-1st Runner up: Christina Applegate
-2nd Runner up: Christina Applegate

So, there you have it. My superfan duty of supporting Samantha Who despite its untimely cancellation. Sooner or later I'll do the same for Dirty Sexy Money. Damn you, ABC.

(Editors Note: At the time this blog went to press I had not seen an entire episode of Modern Family, one of Samantha Who's replacement sitcoms. I retract the statement that I damn ABC. It was pretty hysterical)

Tales of the Body Snatchers

I decided to be a good daughter last Thursday night and put Project Runway on the back burner so that Pops could watch the premiere of Fringe. (I know... I'm a little late on this one. Some people spend their weekends being productive, saving the world; I spend mine in a vodka/food enduced coma). Now don't get me wrong, I have a pretty serious infatuation with JJ Abrams and his twisted psyche, but last week's body snatchers storyline was more outrageous than my reaction to Lady Gaga's VMA performance: hiding under the sofa for 12 hours with a night light and a bible.

It saddens me that Fringe's new timeslot will seriously cut off my weekly dose of Joshua Jackson and Anna Torv-- ESPECIALLY now that they should be gettin freaky soon (I HATE missing good TV sexytime). This show is going to be HUGE this season--know how I can tell? Anna Torv's incredible Emmy dress. An amazing dress is pretty much the key to everything.

Sigh; but there is a chocolate-covered coating to my strife: from tomorrow on out my Thursday nights will be devoted exclusively to dreamy, steamy, and weeny (Meredith, duh). That is of course if I can survive without George.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Divalicious definition make the host go loco

"Omigod... I saw Liza and nearly died"

Here I am... Sitting on the train, dreamily trying to live vicariously through my friend who had star quality seats at last night's Divas Live. From him I have a few items to report:
1. When you say "I love you" to Adele, she says it back. I could write something mean here, but seeing as it's happy friday, I'll simply smile and say "how sweet."
2. My girl Miley was unfortunately the only performer last night to pull an Ashlee Simpson. Another note, they seem to have lowered the diva-ing age a little to much this year. In my book, no one can be a Diva until they have boobs to flaunt and a man to torture. I still love Miles, though. She can do no wrong in my eyes.

And last but not least...

3. Paula was wasted. Shocker.

I think it was at the second note of "Opposites Attract" when I knew for sure that we were in for a rough night. Calling Kathy Griffin a firecrotch was pretty much a tell tale sign as well. Can't say I didn't love every second of THAT. Damn you Kathy Griffin.

The moral of the story here is that somewhere in hollywoodtown, Kara "heresths the thing" Diaguardi is cackaling to herself while rolling around in her American Idol paycheck which she no doubt cashed in for one dolla bills lil wheezy style. Hell that's what I would do if I secured that gig.

I bet right now Kara is practing the three phrases she's going to repeat like a broken record while simultaneously giving Simon a hand job.

Little does she know that there's no way she'll take Paula's seat next to Mr. Cowell. Simon would rather burn his bzillion dollar paychecks in Kathy Griffin's firecrotch than deal with that situation. Thank GOD for Ellen!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

More horse porn?

As I was exercising my Wednesday night ritual of not exercising and instead watching TV, I engaged in a bit of channel cheating (naughty) on FOX while watching SYTYCD and sneaking clips of this week's ANTM. So sue me... it's still the audition rounds.

My eyes did not deceive me--I got my 2nd dose of horse porn in one week of television. That's like 300% more horse porn than any person should EVER see on TV. This post is weird. I should stop saying horse porn.

But yes, there they were. All the "pocket sized" beauties (Oh... and by pocket-size I mean that the shortest by far is my size at 5'3. What a kick in the ego.) were topless, wearing ass-long hair extensions and rubbing their chi chis all over those poor beautiful animals. The only thing weirder than this concept is Tyra herself. It's impressive actually, I never thought that Tyra could get crazier but holy hell was I wrong.

This week Tyra dressed her crazy ass in a super-hero suit calling herself "Super Smize." She then proceeded to dress her minions up like the IO cable pixels and forced them to cover their faces and compete against each other by smiling with their eyes. Oh Ty TY, you never disappoint. Now let's take the time to reflect on one of your finest moments:


Wait... Kurt is Gay?

Sometimes I find that I love so many things--it's impossible to just shove all of that love into the mere 24 hours of a day. This is why I so appreciate the invention of items that combine the things I love... like grilled cheese, tinted moisturizer, the romper, blood orange margaritas, the snuggie, the puggle. Actually, I also REALLY like combining. I'll stop.

So you can understand my enthusiasm when I found the most perfect little television show that combines comedy, music, teen romance, and delicious high school satire; a show that in so many ways satiates my every sitcom need. If you haven't realized I'm talking about Glee yet, turn on a freakin television.

I'm pretty obsessed--so much so that's it's hard to pinpoint the things that I love... but I will...
Coach Sylvester and Kurt.

Speaking of Kurt, I'm a little confused about the last episode. We're talking about a kid that tried out for Glee club with "Mr. Cellophane" and wears double breasted cropped blazers to school... he really isn't out of the closet yet? Yeah... that's believable.

My favorite is how Mercedes goes as far as to pull a Britney and smash poor Kurty's windshield in when her love was unrequited. Hmm... girlfriend needs to quit Diva's Live and watch a few episodes of Will and Grace.

Heart Kurt! Heart this show! Yayyyyy Gleeeee!


Horse Porn

GG is back baby! In preparation for the sacred event I poured myself a dirty martini and watched my slideshow of Ed Westwick pictures to "Breathe On Me" on repeat. Ok, I didn't really... But I probably should. Jessica Szohr is one lucky bitch. First, she gets to touch no-no parts with Chuck Bass AND she has a fashion spread in Page Six magazine's re-debut issue! Ugh... Exactly why she must be my first item of discussion...

A)Ok, so Vanessa is about to start at NYU after being "cool and artsy" by homeschooling herself in all the years leading up to now. Regardless, there is no need for home girl to start wearing dreds. What was the up with the mop head? NOT a fan.

B) MO-ing with Dan's creepy half brother? I guess I could maybe get on board... IF he wasn't 8 feet shorter than her! Comeon casting dept... You should know that sometimes even Vanessa needs to wear heels.

C) The only good part of having a dude for a best friend is that there is NO need for super stalking. And heads up, Vanessa, Dan believes that more than you. Hell, that's what actual girlfriends are for. Step off already... it's embarassing.

Ok now that I've gotten that off my chest, let's talk about what made my heart smile ALL episode long... Blair and Chuck 2gether 4ever. HEART! Now this is the television relationship I've been waiting for my whole adult life: one that combines real love, wild sex, and Ed Westwick in a tuxedo. I totally had the pee-pee sensation all episode long.

I can't really say the same for Serena and her new found fetish with beastiality. "Look at me paparazzi" really? THIS is a storyline? I'm not going to be able to stand this much longer... I'm also not going to stand for the queezy feeling I get looking at Serena's facial expression while riding on the horse. Neighhhh.

Again... let's dwell on the positive. Ahhhhh love. Please see below.