Next Action Star
Awww yeah. Could I be any happier about Corinne and Sean snagging the leads in the big movie? Hells yeah! I could have people to share the love with me. Unfortunately, it seems the only viewers this show has had all summer have been me, my roomie and our dogs, Bustah and Pepito. Who were actually rooting for Jared, it turns out. Traitors. No matter, it's been a blast watching these willing wannabes take a beating in the name of auditioning for next week's made-for-TV flick. If only there was a way to find Jared and Jeanne maybe a pair of supporting roles? And John from Oregon. He was good people. In fact, I'm going to miss them all. Call me, you guys, OK?
True Hollywood Story
Damn, those Chippendales were cheesy. All thongs and muscles and mullets. Like bad '80s cable soft-core set to the music of Missing Persons. (As opposed to the good '80s cable soft-core, which was, of course, set to Berlin). No wonder these "dancers" are so big watch it in Europe. Anyplace that digs Jerry Lewis and Mickey Rourke would obviously be down with spandex pants and that many oily nipples. Though their popularity in the Holy Land seems a bit sinful. There's nothing in the Bible that says "Thou shalt bump and grind on thy neighbor's lap." Or "The meek shall inherit the girth." Trust me. I checked.
AVP: Alien vs. Predator Commercial
Don't hate. I haven't been this excited since the Six Million Dollar Man met Bigfoot.
Amish in the City
I have been salivating all day, waiting to rip this Real World-meets-Witness reality show a new one for being tackier than a Von Dutch bonnet. But you know what? It's not so bad. Almost sweet. And these Amish kids are adorable. Too bad they have to spend their Rumspringa break with six dopes who think teasing is the new tolerance. I swear, I got the vapors trying to pick the most loathsome of the indoor-plumbing posse. Is it Reese, the "club promoter" (read: unemployable man-shrew) with the tragic case of self-deluded fabulosity? Or vegan Ariel, who needs a house dropped on her for thinking her new roomies were Mormons with worse haircuts? Let's not forget Kevan, who is sort of cool, but dude, your name is just Kevin with an "a." Cut the Kay-Von act, OK? Aside from the general hatefulness of the hipster doofuses, we're loving the farmland hotties, especially Miriam and her hubba-licious ex, Randy. Yowsa. For a second I thought I was watching Fox with all the flesh being flashed. And now that the outsiders are starting to get their glam on and can obviously give it as good as they're getting, I am fully expecting fists and sparks to fly in the coming weeks. After they learn what sparks actually are, that is. Then we'll see who turns the other cheek, beeyotch.
The Simple Life 2: Road Trip
Speaking of beeyotches, is it me or was this possibly one of the funniest episodes ever? Not only did it take just six minutes for our first "that's hot," we also got the girls pulling a total Griswold while trying to find the Texas freeway "There's Parliament, kids" and their hysterical stint at a beauty parlor. For a pair who never met a bottle of bleach they didn't abuse, you'd think they'd have done a better job frosting that woman's tips. Poor thing ended up like Betsey Johnson's trailer-park twin. Which is so not hot.
The Democratic National Convention
OK, unlike my inspirational and intoxicating Watercooler cohort Rochell Thomas, I am not a political animal. More like a political Beanie Baby. I go to rallies for the free T-shirts and half the fun of voting is pretending the pollsters are autograph seekers. And ignoring them. Besides, the last time I wrote anything remotely partisan, y'all ran me up a pole for praising Ron Reagan Jr. However, this is a big deal. So, without a stitch of bias to upset any of you into sending nasty e-mails, I give you my take on the Fleet Center shindig, Day Three...
Tom Brokaw will pipe in at the drop of a hat. Or a lull in any speech.
John Edwards is not the psychic with bad hair. He is, however, very tan and "the most optimistic man," according to his wife.
Who looks lovely in powder blue.
The rich are in trouble if Kerry wins.
Yell loud enough in a room filled with supporters and they'll clap at anything.
Unless it's 9/11 related. Then it's time for the cameras to sweep the crowd for somber faces.
Hope is on the way.
So look busy.