Was just catching up on Facebook and, lo and behold, I noticed the above update to your profile.
[Baum chicka baum baum]
Get outta here witch your bad self--you go, girl.
I hope you are wildly happy...and exchanging friendship bracelets-n-shit.
Remember, "love means never having to say you're sorry."
Kisses from the Big Apple,
Friday, May 30, 2008
Man. Dude. WTF was that?
I normally don't write because, well...you intimidate the shit out of me. There are peeps out there who know you way better than I do and I figure you're probs busy reading letters from all of them right now.
But today I wanted to write mostly just to say that that finale was the bomb diggity to the miggity max. Espesh the Penny/Des reunion (was Des the "other people" Sun was referring to when she had her Widmore confrontation??) which was hella dope. I was pretty shocked you gave us that happy ending, but I slurped it up like a dog eating its own vomit. Yum.
I actually hightailed my ass straight to Wikipedia to look up that Jeremy Bentham dude and he's verrrry interesting fo sure. Utilitarianism...Panopticons...oh my. Then I spent an hour reading through the forums, of course, which I need to get back to ASAP since that's mostly the only way I know what the eff is going on. I mean, I g-e-t what's going on on the surface b/c I can see my big ass TV fine and all, but I like to get into the nitty gritty of the motherfucker, ya know? (like, for instance, what that hell that bizarro phonecall was that Kate got).
Also, leave it to Darlton to get us all wound up like a sidewinder for the past FOUR YEARS about getting everyone off the island, and then within one freakin episode, all I can think about is how in the eff everyone's gonna get back. Seriously dudes, g-e-n-i-u-s.
Anyway, for realz, thanks for a season that rocked the hizzy. I think I officially now study harder for Lost than I did for my SAT's.
P.S. How in the eff is Walt like already applying for college? Wasn't he eight a coupla years ago? That dude should barely have pubes by now.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
[Editors Note: Eh, fuck it. This sugar sweet sunshine experiment lasted less than 24 hours and the program is being officially retired. If you want sugar sweet sunshine go hang out on the Sesame Street blog. Smiles might be contagious, but we like sucking on our tried and true big, fat, juicy bitter lollipop around here.]
Dear Everyone, ***
Ok, so on rare occasions, DFA has sometimes been accused of being a smidge too:
- mean spirited
- super cala fragile bitch-stic expy ala doughcious
You'll know a sugar sweet sunshine post whenever you see "*@" in the post's title.
Now, smile. It's contagious.
Dear Dina, *
I'm a few days late, I know, but I just finished watching the first episode of Living Lohan and I really, really enjoyed myself.
First of all, WOW. Your hair really is...well, its super shiny. Also, your daughters LiLo and baby Lo are very, very pretty and they each have lovely, sultry voices. Additionally, I was very impressed with your web savvy--you were googling shit left and right (no need goog up my number though! No Lindsay Lohan lesbian accusations round these parts!).
Long Island looks pretty.
Oh yeah...and I will NOT under any circumstances be reading your crazy ex-husband's weekly blog posts on OK Magazine's website in response to the show.
Anyway, take care!
P.S. That record producer dude Jeremy is trouble, for realz. You need to block him from your AIM list stat.
P.P.S. Nana rocks!
Dear Everyone, ***
Week two of the SYTYCD auditions went down tonight, and the one hot tomale train of the evening, in my opinion, rolled on through the station with 18-year-old Chelsie Hightower (video above).
Also some dude got into a fight with Mary Murphy and lots more people made complete fools of themselves.
Soooo ready to get back to the studio and get this party started!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Dear Denise, *
I must confess: based on the title of your new reality show, Denise Richards: It's Complicated, I was a bit concerned that I'd have some difficulty following the action. Always up for a challenge, I decided to take my preparation seriously, so, I reread my college calculus text book, boned up on the current state of the Middle East crisis and learned a few conversational phrases in Swahili in the hopes that this would help me muddle through the ep.
Well, I'm sorry to report that all of my studying didn't help at all! I've watched your entire show three times now and, dangit all to heck, I'm still having trouble following the storyline.
As best I can piece things together, it seems like: you're unemployed, not interested in dating, semi-abusive toward your personal assistant(s), a questionable role model for your children, and unable to read simple instructions regarding the required documentation to get your name changed. OH yeah...and you're also "attracted to hot sexy guys with big dicks"--so there's that.
It's nice to see that you're an animal lover and all, and I wish you much success in mating your pigs, but uhm...I was so bored off my ass about ten minutes into your show, the only thing that was "complicated" about this whole thing was the formula by which some network suit at E! calculated that anyone who was not mentally challenged would be interested in watching this drek.
At this point, I have no choice but to assume that Heather Locklear and Charlie-cakes are probably right about hating your guts.
Looking forward to no further "complications,"
Dear Heidi, *
I did legitimately sit down to write you a letter, but I think this youtube video does a way better job than I ever could.
Hey, did you ever listen to that Talking Heads Album More Songs About Buildings and Food?
Oh...uhm, Talking Heads is the name of a band and bands are...like...groups of people who get together and all play instruments that sound really good when you listen to them all at once. There might have been one in the studio when you were recording your song Touch Me...but also maybe not.
Anyway, I think you'd dig it.
Hope you are having a great summer!
Spencer for Governor!
Monday, May 26, 2008
Dear Amanda, ***
First of all, :(
How in the hell can the whole season be over already!
Second of all: OMG, this whole Alex thing t-o-t-a-l-l-y makes sense now! He was being such an asshole to you over the past few weeks because he's secretly been in love with Michael Jan the whole time! How can he not be? He's Jan-tastic! Jan-i-licious! Jan-jiggity!
I mean, I get where Alex is coming from--I really do. I want to lick the sweat off of Michael Jan's glistening bod myself after watching him in the shirtless "sprint off" with Adam. And we're not the only ones: Giana spent the entirety of her eleven month anniversary lunch with Trevor at the Melting Pot singing the Jan Man's praises. He plays tennis, he's a genius, he's still got a life!
MICHAEL JAN, MICHAEL JAN, MICHAEL JAN!
Check out her defensive eye roll when Trev called her out about her not so secret crush.
Anyway, I'm glad we've finally gotten to the bottom of what's been undermining you with the "back row" crew this whole time--an over-the-top, obsessive infatuation with MJ.
Oh yeah, and also the fact that Alex is a delusional, self-important douche who has literally zero clue how to generate any of his own opinions. He is STILL so hung up on the fact that he was not chosen for the editor-in-chief position, he seems to be in the midst of some sort of psychotic break with reality wherein he thinks he's the motherfucking glue holding the entirety of The Circuit newspaper together.
This makes no sense...like, none.
Ok, so he showed up to the ropes course bonding exercise and you didn't. BFD. You had to finish your NYU application for God's sake! (congrats, by the way, miss thang :) I think you aptly realized that it was a case of too little too late by that stage of the game, and you needed to be looking out for A number one. But I think it was this absence of yours, coupled will your brill bitch slap out in the hall after he tried to make you look like a fool in front of your staffers, that ultimately planted the inane idea in his head that he needed to work things out with you once and for all with one last talk.
Expectedly, Alex acted like a two-year-old and you exhibited your usual way-beyond-your years brand of cool at this tete-a-tete, making him look all the more pathetic and sad. Here were some of my favorite Alex quotes from your final showdown convo:
- "I've tried to remain netural this whole time"
- "I've been picking up the slack and doing all of your work."
- "People think that I've performed well and you haven't"
Not only has he continuously not remained neutral, he has sabotaged and undermined you at every available turn. I highly doubt he's had to pick up one iota of slack on your behalf and as for people thinking that "he's performed well" I'm quite certain that's data he culled from....yep, you guessed it...the back row bitch squad--i.e. all the chumps who mistakenly thought they should be holding the journalistic reigns instead of you. Unless, of course, by "performed well" he was making some sort of sick reference back to his Michael Jan man crush/obsession, but I will not drag you down into the gutter with me to ponder that possibility.
So, Ms. Amanda Lorber, as your lovely little show comes to an end tonight, I can say with the utmost sincerity and not a drop of snark in my keyboard stroking, you have managed to completely renew my faith in the teen establishment, reality television, journalistic pursuits and MTV all at the same time. Not to get all sentimental and "will you sign my yearbook" on you, but I'm totally going to miss you. Miss you in like a genuinely real sort of way that I've definitely never felt before toward any other reality star (cue music--we totally just had a moment here together, didn't we?). Anyway, ALo, you are a smart, spunky goin' places chick with about as good a head on your shoulders as one could ever hope for at your age (Christ, who are we kidding here--at my age!). I've said it before and I'll say it again: You rock, and you rock hard. Please try not to forget this...it will be hard at times, but you need to try (maybe write out a few post-it notes??).
Before we say our goodbyes (hopefully not forevs!), can you PLEASE tell me what this girl's name is?! She is fucking hysterical and smart and gutsy and its been bugging me for weeks that I don't know what to call her. If she is not a senior, I hope she gets the editor-in-chief gig next year (are you out there Mrs. Weiss?)
Anyway AL, thanks for the memories...I'll treasure them 4-eva. You've got some mighty big shoes to fill fer sure.
Youtube, Facebook, Myspace, Text,
P.S. Trevor got a perfect math score on his SAT's?! Holy Christ, that was the shocker of the season (I guess I owe you an apology, Trev).
Dear Japan, **
WTF?? First Hello Kitty gets an ambassadorship gig and now you've hired a cat as your stationmaster??
This fucking cat is in charge of 10 train stations and has her own office. Even more impressive was this little nugget:
"Happy with her successful job as stationmaster, the company promoted Tama to "super-stationmaster" in January this year, making her "the only female in a managerial position" in the company's 36-strong workforce."
I guess in your country, eating Tender Vittles is a God damned pre-requisite to making anything out of your own pathetic feline wannabe life.
Let me introduce you to I Can Has Cheezburger...I'm sure you'll announce this as your official national newspaper next week.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Dear Emily, *?
I shit you not: I was at Franny's in Brooklyn on Saturday night and overheard four different conversations at four different tables (not counting my own, mind you) talking about you and your article in the NYT magazine this weekend. I would guess that there are probably between 12 -14 tables in the restaurant, so (counting us) that means about 1/3 of the people there were talking about you at some point in the evening. And truthfully, that number is way off, I'm sure, due to the fact that I am not the bionic woman and was not able to easily eavesdrop on all of the opinionated, know-it-all hipsters within my immediate proximity. So I'm going to bump my estimate up to 50%.
But this was just one little ole restaurant in Brooklyn. Add to that the 8 bazillion comments the story generated (waay before it was even published), the 9 trillion reactive articles about your article, the Twitter Tweets, and Gawker's virtual liveblogging of the whole darn thing as it unfolded.
Holy. Mother. Of. Christ.
I would imagine that your email inbox must be over-fucking-flowing with "Emily Gould" google alerts by this point. E-v-e-r-y-b-o-d-y is talking about you...like, a lot.
True confessions: before this weekend, the thing I remembered you most for, was posting the above picture of yourself in this sparkly red bathing suit. Your "self-involved" posts and battles with nasty commentors do not ring a bell with me at all, but I distinctly remember this bathing suit shot. Mostly, I guess, because I think that voluntarily posting a picture of myself in a bathing suit is something I would only consider if someone removed a big chunk of my brain with a melon baller and then made me it eat with my bare hands. And that's still a big maybe. So, posting this pic...and flipping us all off, made me kinda love you back then.
For the record, I read all 7,937 words of your article on Friday and thought it was a really astute, well written take on one person's experience dealing with the bizarre world of blogebrity. I thought that you were fairly upfront about mistakes that you felt you made (and clearly: mistakes were made), showed some growth through the whole process, and all the while gave us all an inside look into a segment of the media we are all, obvs, insanely obsessed with. As such, I guess I'm a bit confused why everyone and their brother are:
- Angry at the NYT over the fact that your article was 7,937 words AND got the cover.
- S-e-r-i-o-u-s-l-y pissed at you for "going on and on" about yourself in article that was supposed to be all about...uhm... YOUR experience.
- Ready to burn you in effigy over the fact that you overshared about your own romantic life on your Heartbreak Soup blog (ok, I do agree that this was not a good idea, but it seems like you agree now too and are kinda sorry it ever happened--at least the way it did, so WTF??). Oh, AND the dude you were oversharing about already wrote his own tell-all piece for Page Six magazine that was waaay more personal and specific than yours was, but that was totally fine and not worth a witch hunt at all, apparently.
- So utterly fucking offended by the idea that bloggers tend to enjoy writing about themselves and being self referential...and that you clearly did too (NY Magazine: "we promise you: Some bloggers are able to write about things other than themselves"...uhm, ok? And?).
You may very well be "a piece of shit" "cunt" in real life (as Mark, May 25th 2008 so eloquently posits on your blog comments at 5:18pm), but I think I probably need to spend way more time with you than 7,937 words in a NYT Magazine article in order to reasonably come to that conclusion. In the meantime, I'm sticking with my original assesment: bathing suit badass.
Happy Memorial Day.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Dear Everyone, ***
With the recent premiere of So You Think You Can Dance, I thought it might be an appropriate time to remind every freakin' one of you that this is, seriously, the best fucking show on TV. In fact, if you are not watching this show and have no plans to do so:
A. You're a complete moron
B. You have no taste
C. You have never taken the time to investigate how hard this show actually rocks.
I'll go ahead and give you all the benefit of the doubt and just assume you fall into the C group, so let me tell you why the eff you should be tuning in:
First of all, because of this dude:
Mind you, this is just from the auditions show...it gets even better.
I get that people love American Idol...and I used to love it too. But the level of talent, the jaw dropping drama and the broad spectrum of pure, unadulterated spunk of the SYTYCD contestants makes AI, for me, look like open mic night at Hooters. I don't mean to downplay vocal skillz at all--I mean, if you can belt one out like Gladys Knight, mad props to you and your Pips. But these dancers are really just in a way different league.
And trust me...the dancing is totally off the charts.
I don't want to hear any of your shit about how you're "not really that into dancing" or how you "tried to watch Dancing With the Stars and just couldn't get into it." Seriously, shut your face right now.
Basing your opinion of dance shows in general on the juvenille, circus sideshow, velveeta cheez fest of Dancing With the Stars is totally whack and I, for one, won't allow it. That show is all about the thrill of watching washed up has beens or D-list fame whores jiggle their jangles in lame ass costumes and laugh as they make fools of themselves in front of a live audience. The judges are so in love with the sound of their own voices, you get the sense that they likely sit in pitch meetings with the network suggesting they change the show to a straight judge commentary format where they discuss for an hour what it might look like if they allowed any of their loser contestants to actually take to the dance floor. The dancing is almost besides the point.
In stark contrast, on SYTYCD, we've got the Hot Tamale Train:
Laugh if you will, but I love the shit out of Mary Murphy. And if she ever gave me a ticket on the Hot Tamale Train, I would ride that mofo until the rails were rusting off the effin tracks. Believe me--you would too. Yes, she sometimes has a teeny bit of the "WTF did she just say?" Paula Abdul factor goin' on; and true: 99% of the time she just repeats exactly what Nigel says; but mostly, she is all about a genuine love of dancing and a true, totally sincere desire to see all of the SYTYCD dancers become superstars. Mark my words: after of a few weeks of watching the show, you're gonna be sitting your ass on your couch, screamin' "HOT TAMALE TRAIN" at the TV like a frat boy on Superbowl Sunday...and you're going to love every fucking minute of it.
Nigel Lythgoe, the affable Brit super producer, does need a haircut as badly as Donald Trump does, BUT, this dude happens to be pretty spot on most of the time with his commentary. Plus, you'll totally dig watching the sexually charged, dopey back and forth repartee between him and MM (*yes I am totally convinced that these two are secretly in love with each other).
Then, of course, you have your rotating group of slick ass choreographers like Mia Michaels, Shane Sparks, Brian Freedman and Wade Robson (remember him, Brit?) who get these contestants to dance their freakin asses off week after week. Yo, these are the choreographers that work on the hottest new videos, award winning theater, and sold out concert tours...and not surprisingly, their routines usually Kick. Ass.
Plus, Cat Deeley is pretty cute too.
Be honest with yourself: are you really sticking by your story that you watch AI, week after week, and never fast forward through all the lame ass boring shit? I would wield my tivo remote like a weapon back in the days when I watched, and would prob FF through about 50% of that shit. During SYTYCD, I mostly use it to replay stuff that was so over the top fab, I've just gotta watch again.
Ok, so here's the deal: it doesn't matter if you've never been "into" dancing...or liked any other dance shows before. This show is the shiz, and that's a fact. I watch all sorts of stupid, lame ass TV and I'm also a card carrying Know It All, so my quals check out. SYTYCD is the kickest ass reality talent show on TV right now. Watch it. I mean it. If you don't love this show with a capital Hells Yeah, then please refer back to A and B above.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
I hate you. And I mean "hate" in a deep, down, scary kind of way.
Whomever is in charge of watching subway traffic patterns and rider usage, needs to be fired. Like, now. As in, go to this chump/chumpess's cubicle, stand there with your arms crossed, and glare at this useless mofo as they pack up their shit. This clueless, lame ass douche is clearly spending their days watching youtube videos about cute kittens or doing sudoku puzzles. They must be. Because they are NOT paying any sort of effing attention to rider traffic patterns....like at ALL.
Let me set the scene for you:
7th Avenue (Q/B) Subway stop in Brooklyn
any and every weekday morning from 7am to 9am
- Wall to wall freakin people on the Manhattan bound platform
- One dude with a hello kitty murse on the Brooklyn bound platform
- Brooklyn bound Q/B trains whizzing in and out of the station every couple of minutes as if they were on their way to a Coney Island house party
- Painful, long ass waits of 15 mins+ between trains on the Manhattan bound side (The hello kitty dude left 13 mins ago)
- Manhattan bound platform begins to reach fire hazard status (an old woman with a walker just kicked a baby in its stroller onto the tracks and everyone cheered because it freed up another 4 inches of platform space)
- FINALLY...a Q train comes sputtering into the station
- Son of a mother fucking bitch. The bitch ass train is so crowded, a starving coked up supermodel couldn't squeeze her anorexic self on to that shizzy
- Cursing, air punching and dirty staring commence by all left on the platform
Let me be clear--I am not dissing the Q train in its fully functional state. It's dirty as hell, but its fast and convenient and always gets me where I need to be. I don't want a refund or anything, and I'm saving all of my comments regarding all of the other things that are completely effed up about the subway for another time.
Send more Q trains. Period. That's all I want. And I'm pretty sure I can speak for the rest of my Q Brooklyn comrades and say that's all they want too.
Here's a clue on a silver fucking platter. Now get it.
Quitting the Q,
Dear Brit, **
- Looks like suhm-buddy forgot to put on her sunblock during her Costa Rican getaway with Mel "I hate those effin' Jews" Gibson.
- Mrs. Roper called...she wants her dress back.
- Your pleather, sparkle pink purse is notable, both for the fact that it does not match your whore-endous, ill fitting gettup one lick AND because it looks like it totally came from Perez Hilton's cutting edge new line with Hot Topic (leave it to you to always be on top of the trends!)
- As per U, your weave still looks like its allergic to your head...and your brush.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Dear Gossip Girl, ***
I wrote you a poem:
Murder was fun
as a plotline
But now we are bored
we need way more
Serena is good
chuck is bad
Nate is boring
Dan's love was a fad
Georgina = psycho
(jenny, rufus, Lilly, blah)
Have fun in the Hamptons...but not too much fun because you have some freakin plotlines that need to be developed before you show your face around here again.
You know you love,
Dear Alex, *
You truly disappointed me last night.
I mean, what the hell is wrong with you these days? You started off as this sweet, smart, teen nerd and in four short eps have morphed into a sweaty, whiny pussy whipped tool. Look at yourself. You actually managed to ruin this adorable Homecoming picture...and Mrs. Weiss agrees!
Your need to be a "cool kid" is getting kinda lame, and its seriously interfering with your rep. I had high hopes for you--I even thought you might eventually come around to realizing that Amanda was the better choice for editor-in-chief...and your one true love (le sigh). Alas, your head seems filled with nothing these days but Alex + Alix montages and Trevor/Gianna orchestrated bullying techniques. It's so very sad.
And don't think this isn't all affecting you. You look like you haven't slept in days and your zit factor is through the freakin roof.
And so, in conclusion, your refusal to dance with Amanda at Homecoming, for me, is t-h-e final straw. I'm done with you Alex...for good.
"She's Amanda Lorber...she's perfect." Indeed.
Lorb-it or lose it,
p.s. Aren't you just an eensy bit jealous that ALo will be living it up in NYC...probably interning at the NY Observer and eating magnolia cupcakes all the live long day? Thought so.
Dear Everybody, ***
You have got to be fucking kidding me with this piece of shit 90210 promo. Have you seen it?? A little piece of me is dying down deep inside because I have to say this, but this show looks like a big, heaping crap sandwich.
- The original theme music (BOMP BOMP) def gets the old juices flowing, but a scant two seconds in and we've got our first sign of trouble: Brandon 2.0 and Dylan 2.0's lame ass hand shake slap combo. This is bad. Original Brandon did a faux punch--which managed to make him seem both masculine and good natured. These two look look like two whiny, nine-year old girls at summer camp.
- Next we move on to the show's obvious villain--the bad girl daughter of Portia de Rossi from Nip/Tuck who liked to have cocaine snorted off her belly before she performed kinky sexual acts on men old enough to be her father--like her gay mother's lover's ex-husband. Ok, this chick could m-a-y-b-e, possibly be interesting.
- This is West Beverly High's newest young gun
doucheteacher. OMG! I wonder how many eps it will be till this chump is fucking the head cheerleader?
- Some dude has his shirt half tucked in and half out and is wearing a skinny tie. I kid you not!
As if this promo wasn't lame enough, they've managed to come up the single most colosally ridiculously tagline I've ever heard:
“If you wanna live in the Zip, you gotta live by the code.”
I think my ears are bleeding and...yep, I definitely just choked on my own vomit. This is seriously the best you network suits can do? I mean, have you ever even seen Gossip Girl??
Anyway, I hope you make me eat my words CW...I really do. You've got your work cut out for you, but I'm not giving up on you yet.
Bitches for Brenda,
Monday, May 19, 2008
Dear Ali, (*?)
Man, a picture really is worth a thousand words.
What a devilishly delicious preview this snapshot represents of the celeb-u-tastic, paparazzi'd, hollywood-ified cluster fuck your life is about to become. Big sis LiLo is safely tucked away behind her big camera and you...you, miss thang, are t-o-t-a-l-l-y ready for your close up, aren't cha??
Well, baby doll, I'm ready too.
While everyone else is planning bar-b-ques, getting spray on tans and having their pits waxed in preparation for Memorial Day, I'm relaxing on my couch. I'm not going to the beach because there is no electricity there or cable, and the only thing I give a shit about on Memorial Day weekend is watching the premiere of your new show on E!, Living Lohan.
I am oh so excited to get this party started with you. If Hey Paula was any indication of what's to come, I think its safe to say that we all have a summer of cringe-worthy, inappropriate comments, ridiculous, overblown reactions, and over-the-top bratiness from you and Mama Lohan to look forward to.
Future superstar? Or Future Train Wreck? I can't wait to find out.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
- "Gianna is scheming jealous little hussie!"
- "Alex has z-e-r-o backbone!"
- "Trevor is the layout editor because he can't read!"
- "Adam is a wittle bitty cwy baby!"
Holy freakin' ridiculousness.
That anyone in that entire school is still under the hilariously insane impression that Giana, Alex or anyone else but you should have been editor, is beyond my comprehension. Giana!? An Editor-in-Chief!? That's coo coo for cocoa puffs.
I hate to say it, but I think its officially time to kick Alex to the curb. He's way too hung up on fitting in with the "cool" kids and he totally doesn't get that he's making a huge mistake by hitchin' himself to the wrong wagon. You two could rule the school, but he's far too busy giving Giana a bikini wax and teaching Trevor the alphabet to ever put that puzzle together.
So keep on keepin' on ALo. Because, I cannot w-a-i-t until you have some fab development deal with the network in a few years or some kickass job writing for Samantha Who or the Daily Show and Giana and her bitch brigade can sit around in their community college dorm rooms eating their bitchtastic hearts out all the live long day.
In Chief we trust,
Dear My Fat Ass, **
Stop watching this fucking pancake puff infomercial already and just buy the stupid thing.
Your attempts to get our delusional brain to support your efforts by hypothesizing that this is a necessary kitchen tool are both ridiculous and predictable. True, we do use the Magic Bullet quite a bit, but its small and capable of producing healthy snacks like smoothies and salsa.
I get it--It's "pantastic!," but I give it about a week until your evil mind control tricks have me cookin' up cheesy bacon pancake puffs, spicy jalapeno puffs, brownie puffs, cinammon sugar whipped cream puffs and god damned crabcake puffs round the clock. I don't even like crab, but I bet that won't stop me from puffin' em up!
Your reign of terror must be stopped.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Dear Hills Girls, **
I would have written last night but I slipped into a boredom coma during your finale. The doctors were only able to revive me after blasting Amanda Lorber's Mr. Roboto youtube video on a continuous loop.
Sooo, to recap:
Lauren and Audrina had some tension.
Heidi acted stupid at work.
Lo was borrrring.
Spencer acted like a dumbass chump.
I think I might actually be ready to ditch you all for Tila Tequila.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Dear Dennis, *?
What with all of the constantly changing rules and security measures, its super duper hard to keep up with what we can and can't bring onto planes these days. I get confused myself quite a bit, so I thought I would share with you a recent checklist I put together that I use religiously every time I'm packing for a trip.
Do NOT bring any of the following items onto the plane:
- Bottled water (unless purchased after security checkpoint)
- Any liquids over 3 ounces
- Knitting needles
- Tuna fish sandwiches
- A Loaded freakin gun
Friday, May 9, 2008
Dear Perez, **
Uhm....yeah. Your own fashion line, huh?
I'm pretty sure I would rather commit to an all Heidiwood, all the time wardrobe than ever, ever, like EVER have to wear a Mario Lavandeira designed baby tee. It looks like My Little Pony threw up all over those tween jeans and horrible ho-odies.
Also, when you're a fashion designer...and you look totally ridiculous at your own clothing line launch--that's kinda not so good.
Think pink (oops, looks like you already R!),
Thursday, May 8, 2008
I do realize its odd for me to be friend matchmaking when I don't really know either one of you, but have you ever met my fake friend Jessica Simpson? She used to be on a super popular reality show on MTV about her and her husband that I believe you and KFed tried to copy with Chaotic (well what do you know...hindsight is 20/20! Holy foreshadowing of the ginormous mess your life was about to become, LOL!).
Anyhoo, I just thought that you and Jess might really hit if off. I mean, you are both in the midst of a C list phase thing after your celebrity statuses simultaneously took a nose dive off a cliff into the deep, fiery pits of an erupting volcano. But the similarities don't stop there!
*you're both nice southern girls, y'all!
*you're both former fake virgins
*you both love fried chicken and all other manner of fried foods
*you're both singers...kind of
*and you both have formerly unknown sisters that are now more famous and well-liked than you are (hey Ash and Jamie Lynn!)
If you two were on eharmony, I totally think you would be matched up! ROFL!
Anyway B, I'm actually really hoping that Jess can help you out a scooch with your hair. I haven't mentioned anything to you in awhile, I know, but after seeing this picture of you above I actually yuked all over my computer keyboard (note: if that ever happens to you, do NOT try to use those compressed air cans to clean it out--it doesn't work very well).
I did notice that your acrylic nails were all french manicured up the other day and you were wearing some cute berry stained lip gloss, so it seems like you're tryin' to get your pretty on again. But Brit Brit, you're weave is lookin' so over the top nasty, both Amy Winehouse AND Whitney Houston have contacted me separately to let me know how totally skeeved out they are by it. You look like a garbage pail kid :(
So, that's why I want to hook you up with Jess--she has a whole line of fake hair with that celebrity hairdresser dude Ken Paves!
CALL THEM B!
I just know that they could get you from blech to bipolar babe in no time at all!
Think about it, K?
Dear Jonas Brothers, (pls see Miley Cyrus rating),
I know almost absolutely nothing about you aside from the fact that you are teenagers...and brothers. I don't think I've ever heard one of your songs (on purpose, at least) and have zero clue what any of your first names are. And yet none of that stops me from being deeply annoyed by all three of you chumps.
Now it seems that we have a Jonas Brothers 3D concert film to contend with next year?....fantastic. I'm totally looking forward to having my local movie theater clogged up like a toilet with giggling gaggles of twittering teenage girls dreaming of having their v cards swiped by Jonas Brother 1, 2 or (if need be) 3.
Can you just get off the internet already?
Hell to the No,
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Dear Oliver, ***
Uhm, you are so not pulling your weight around here.
I buy you gourmet food, take you to the doggie dermatologist, hire you sitters and speak with a freakin' animal communicator and all you've got for me is a developed "sit" and "down" routine?
Dude, this fish can do the fucking limbo. Are you hearing' me??? He's a FISH! He also plays roundball, soccer and slaloms. He probably composed a symphony last week and built a school for starving children in Africa for all I know.
You drool, eat, crap and bark like a champ, fer sure, but when I see Comet bendin' it like Beckham, I can't help but feel a little disappointed in you.
Unfortunately, I just called the R2 Fish School and they are not accepting dogs at this time. I put your name on the waiting list and will cross my fingers and hope for the best. In the meantime, you might want to start thinking about some ways you could potentially step up to the plate a bit more around here. Vacuuming and Karate might be some good places to start. It's really up to you.
Love is Ruff,
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Dear Miley, (** ?? I'm stumped on this one),
Wow, slutty pix AND this dancin' machine youtube video? Maybe you're not so lame after all.
Why oh why doesn't anyone ever challenge meeee to a dance off!? So not fair.
Hos before bros,
Monday, May 5, 2008
Dear Serena, ***
You dirty little birdie.
I guess tonight is the night we find out how naughty you and Georgie actually
were are on Gossip Girl. I spent the better part of last week riddling your potential misdeeds over and over again in my head. I spent so much time pondering your bad girl ways, in fact, I'm going to be seriously peeved if you don't deliver with some major shock value.
I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but here's the evidence I've collected thus far:
- The fact that you didn't even feel comfortable telling Chuck about this heinous crime of yours did throw me off a bit. If I stabbed a small child after leaving a hit and run scene and snorting cocaine at the 7-11 I had just robbed, Chuck would pretty much be my first and only call.
- You seemed pretty freaked out by that email slash audio (or video) clip that evil G undoubtedly sent you. Digital evidence of your faux pas? Check.
- Your "If I go down, you go down" line seems to indicate this is way bigger than the pregnancy theory that had been circulating about you and Nate. I'm guessing this means he is not, in fact, your baby daddy.
- The recording you was listening to said something along the lines of "do you think Serena will be down for this?" indicating that this "thing" was likely pre-planned.
- Georgie's secret admirer gift of coke clearly implies that you were likely quite a snow queen back in the day.
What: Amateur sex tape in some skeevy downtown loft (possibly with some girl on girl action)
Weapon: Booze and/or mounds of blow (possibly also included on sex tape)
kisses for bitches,
P.S. Georgie is making a play for your main man Dan...just thought you should know :)
Dear Hollywood Powerhouses, **
I cannot sit idly by in silence any longer: Amanda Lorber needs her own TV show...like, pronto.
MTV's The Paper is one of my favorite new shows on TV and it rocks for one reason and one reason only...and that's Ms "In Chief" herself. Everyone else on Cypress Bay High School's The Circuit staff is whiny, annoying and doltish, but ALorbs--she's a total star.
If you don't believe me, check out this brilliant performance of hers in which she sings the merits of using facebook over myspace.
Maybe she can go work at Jezebel or the New York Observer for a summer internship and you can spin that into a reality show? Or how bout this!?: a teen version of Beauty and the Geek?
Truthfully, I don't care what you come up with...just come up with something ASAP. For realz.
Amanda is my constant,
**Want more Amanda Lorber-ness?? Me too!
Friday, May 2, 2008
Dear Tom, *
After watching your interview with the big O, I feel all icky inside. Kinda like I need a shower.
Telluride is very pretty--I'll give you that. But you were just weird and creepy and had a very bad haircut goin' on.
It was super interesting hearing you talk about that opening scene in Risky Business--and how it literally changed the course of your life. Especially when Op moved right on to ask you about the "couch incident"--which also sorta changed the course of your life. Like, for the way worse.
I actually felt bad for Oprah, because the awkwardness between you two was palpable. And dude. You were a little over-the-top with the you "WERE EGGING ME ON" tirade regarding your couch gymnastics routine. Come on...you needed no egging. You know it and I know it, so put your freakin' omlette pan away.
And can one of the higher-ups from your whacko religious militia please explain to me why the EFF I have a better chance of getting a quick explanation regarding the concepts behind quantum physics or the easiest way to to perform open heart surgery than I do to this very simple question: WHAT IS SCIENTOLOGY?! Haven't you people ever heard of an "elevator pitch?" Here's some totally free PR advice Tommy (I pray you are not still getting any from your sister): If you don't want people making up stories and constantly criticizing you, stop being Mr. Mysteriouso about the whole thing.
Also, we all read right through the BS that you and Nicole were BFF and your whole family was like one big Brady Bunch lovefest. I'm guessing its more like Celebrity Deathmatch than it is the Brady's.
Anyhoo, just wanted to send you a quick note to say that I still hate your guts! And that I'm looking forward to Part II of your
Dear Jamie Lynn, *
OMFG, I just read that you are having a little girl! Sugar and spice and everything nice (LOL).
This is s-u-c-h AHmazing news...are you just over the moon?? And perfect timing and all with your shower this weekend! Esp since Brit Brit will be there :)
It will be so fun to have a girl, doncha think? You can teach her all about acrylic nails, crimp each other's hair and share your Hannah Montana CD's. You guys can swap clothes (or boyfriends! ROFL! JK...I totally know that you and Casey are together 4 ever ;) and teach her all about responsibility. It will be great.
I'm not sure if you started thinking about names yet, but I thought of a few that I wanted to pass along:
Katelyn Tiffany or
Jamie Lynn Casey (wouldn't that be sooo cute?! Uhm, TOTES!)
Anyway, have a really amazing baby shower (don't forget to brush your hair!). Can't wait to see the pics of Brit puking into the bar-b-que and Casey brandishing his gun!!!! (ha!)
P.S. Have you guys started decorating yet at the new place? Pottery Barn is having a killer sale!
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Dear Agyness, **
I don't have anything against you personally and I'm sure you are a lovely, possibly non-annoying woman. But now you're a chanteuse? I am just totally flummoxed.
I love me some supermodels: Heidi, Giselle, Naomi, Cindy...even Janice for Christ's sake. I love reading about supermodels, looking at supermodels and watching interviews with supermodels. But I seriously just don't get you.
Supermodels have long, wavy hair that you just want to reach out and touch. They make you want to buy lingerie and makeup and they all carry it bags and have fabulous sunglasses. You usually look like you're on your way to traffic school after a long night of boozing.
Look Ags, I'm chubby, and shortish and very often leave my house without lip gloss, so I know that I'm really in no position to judge, B-U-T I just don't see you holding your own at the Supermodel Debutante Ball. You're cute and all, but a supermodel??
I'm not going to listen to your song because, frankly, I don't want any reason to dislike you anymore than I do. Maybe you'll do something a little more interesting sometime soon?
Dear Gawker, ***
You've done it. No joke.
I think I now love Julia Allison and its e-n-t-i-r-e-l-y your fault.
Like many others, I've read, with gusto, every single JA hatin' piece you've ever posted. I remember (rather sheepishly) the day many months ago that I first thought to myself "hunh...who the hell is Julia Aliison?!"
I admit, I jumped on the hate train along with everyone else and gleefully sat front and center as Jules has been parsed, dated, rated and twittered. I mean, I *get* why you hate her: she's pretty, getting paid lots of money to flit around town for Star magazine, has her own reality show, loves all the attention she gets, yada, yada, yada. But your hatred runs so deep and is so boundless, it's really kind of fascinating in its own right. I mean, if you're genuinely soo disgusted by all of the attention JA seeks than why do you keep giving it to her? (the metaphors run deep, n'est-ce que pas?)
Slowly but surely, as your hatred gained momentum, mine started losing steam. Maybe its the rebel in me who longs to stand out in a crowd (like JA!) or maybe she just methodically won me over with her wily ways (can you actually hypnotize someone with the carefully crafted words in a TONY article?), but here I am. I'm throwing up my hands to the heavens in utter and complete frustration. I'm completely and totally bored of hating Julia. I'm so done. Finito.
I'm thinking of starting a Facebook group called: I love Julia Allison...HOW YA LIKE ME NOW!? I'm totally looking forward to her reality show and YES, I am following her on Twitter and am thoroughly entertained by her tweets.
I assure you, I don't know Julia, any of her friends or any of her friends' friends. I don't go to Butter or Beatrice or wherever all of the cool kids hang out nowadays and nobody put me up to this. I simply thought you should know what's been wrought as a result of your hate parade.
No hard feelings?