The Bald and the Beautiful

Nothing tugs at my heart strings as heavily as the plight of a balding woman.  Let's call our prototype Betty.

Female Pattern Baldness is one of the greater tragedies mankind has ever seen and a situation that I for one, feel severely compassionate toward.  Why? Well for starters, Balding Betty's male counterpart is much, much sexier than she, and can rock a Bic'd head any day of the week (and still make the people swoon).  Coupled with some fatigues that hug nicely around Bobby's Bob, an American Apparel T and a jazzy sneaker, we've got ourselves a winner in Balding Bob. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that Bob has it all over Ugly Betty, wouldn't you? Good. Now dry off your stool and keep reading.

Betty, are you all right honey?

Sure, Betty - your Theory dresses and your Christian Louboutin's might make you feel better temporarily, but at your core you continue to feel bitter, useless and depressed, as you should!  

Nothing makes me sadder than the idea of you looking disappointedly at your reflection night after night, swollen eyed and solemn. I FEEL FOR YOU B.

When you flip your five strands of used-to-be luscious locks from side to side to catch the wind of yesteryear, what you're really catching is "poor-unfortunate-soul" looks from passers-by, who don't even care about your fat, disproportionate ass anymore.  Boo. It used to look so good with hair I bet.

As you age Balding Betty and spend more and more time at your office, you'll realize that the little life you did have before your noggin needed SPF has dissipated into thin air, or into clumps on your designer pillowcase. Tear.

As you attempt and fail again to hang onto the remaining follicles of grease that lazily cling to your mal-shaped head in order to counterbalance your pock-marked skin, listen up.  ALL HOPE IS NOT LOST.  

There are a few options to brighten your day - not your sphere - your DAY! Get a hold of yourself - not your hair.  Ok, enough with the stab em while they're down one liners.

a) You could employ the assistance of a lady wig  - shit Beyonce rocks those better than 

     anybody don't she?

b) You could rock a GI JANE throwback (dyketastic), then you'll surely get railed by all the 

     boys you keep batting your eyelashes at like you're still nineteen and failing out of a college 

     far away from your sad suburban roots.

c) Or you can ROGAINE it. I know! I know it's so depressing.  It just sounds so COARSE. 

    Think about it though.  Nothing would make you happier than watching that hair sprout back     at Chia Pet speed I bet.

So you see Betty, everything is going to be fine!  You can still hang out with C list celebrities. You can still pretend that you have anything to offer the world at large. You can still resemble a woman even with your A cup ninnies and the imaginary pole lodged in your rectum!  

So go out there, and shake what your Momma gave ya because you ARE YOU and Mommy always told us that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Go get em' girl!

Xoxo.

The Subway Dancer

Today a little local girl no older than nine decided to dance on the subway pole like a stripper. And the weirdest part about it was that she knew.   She kept slapping her breastless chest and saying "look at my stuff."

At the risk of sounding like an unfortunate sicko, I'll stop here.  I just really can't help but think that she "knew" a little too much about dancing, like maybe her mommy was a dancer with really saggy girls and bologna curtains for weeks. 

Wait - now Tony from Dancing with the Stars is wearing Satin pajamas.  Did they have a shortage in costuming this week?

Anyway, I wish they would hire local subway dancers to be on this show.  This girl was good a la the cross eyed little girl in Union Square.  You know the one.  Her parents beat those buckets whilst she just shakes her shimmy and crosses her eyes.  She's a sight.

Ugly Mother Fucker of the Week

Well I had to choose a pussy this time. I'm sick of people telling me that Olivia looks like a burn victim from Hurricane Katrina.  She is much, MUCH more beautiful than this unfortunate.

Herbert

I named today's template after the late Uncle Herb.

HERBERT.

I love talking SHIT.

It is clear that I enjoy roasting on the couch after a long day at the office and watching horrible primetime television.  It is during these times that I so often ponder the life of the mediocre, and imagine all of the great creative things I should be doing.

I say this as I watch Kristi Yama-something spin around wearing a yellow pom pom on her head on Dancing with the Stars while her partner dances next to her in red satin pajamas.

That said, my new favorite horribly bad show is Gossip Girl.  Especially tonight's episode. 

I love that Blair is a huge raging vagina and that Penn Badgley's sister "J" was dating a homo who also happened to be dating Blake Lively's Brother "Faggot."

I mean. It was just classic.  And I love how liberal everyone was when "Faggot"came in and announced that he liked the carrot.  People barely even gasped.  If that momo had done that in my high school, he would have been knifed in his scrotum.  I'm just jealous.  Anyway, it was nice to see someone ugly with a bad sidepart get outed in like the worst way.

And what up with Serena killing someone? I mean the writing couldn't get any worse/PHENOMENAL.

xoxo,

The Cheap Imitation

Pro Ana Mia

This is so sick I can't help but post it.

If you want to check this out, do so at your own risk. It is quite disturbing.

http://www.proanamia.com/

Here is a "poem" from the website:

Ana's Last Night
Lying here hungry ...My whole body in pain ...Should probably eat something ...But I feel to ashamed ...Starting to shiver now ...Beginning to shake ...God how I love this ...How my body just aches ...Got up for some cold water ...Then to take a cold shower ...Remind myself that soon ...I'll be a delicate flower ...Did 3 hours exercise ...But I must do some more ...Still got one pound to loose ...Like the pound I lost before ...Whoa, got a dizzy head rush ...Colors dancing all around me ...Like little tiny faerie angels ...Wanting to set me free ...Oh wow, I'm floating with them ...Going high up in the sky ...I finally made it! ...To the thinness that is I ...

The site also offers tips on how you too can neutralize your breath after vomiting and how best to covertly adjust your diet to be a successful diseased waif.

Thoughts?

Is it me or is the Food Network depressing?

I just don't get it. I'm not a food nazi. Sure, I have read parts of Skinny Bitch and I am now quite familiar with the Pro Ana Mia movement which we'll discuss in a bit but I do like a nice greasy carbohydrate-tastic meal. I really do. I like burgers, fries and the occasional McFlurry. It's true, I may starve myself during the week to maintain the allusion of a perfect genetic hand-me-down but my family looks like every other suburban family. American, if you will and I too am only three pies away from looking sub-par. In my mind I'm actually a celebrity and paparazzo may take pictures of me on South Beach over the summer.

Despite my mouth which is usually salivating for SOMETHING, I just can't seem to get into the Food Network. Even running into Giada at Nobu 57 with her faux Italian accent used on words like Pinot Greeg-chio can't swerve my netherregions to a more peaceful place. I can't hold the Food Network anywhere near my heart.

In fact, I absolutely hate it- I hate all the shows on it. I don't think it's interesting to watch orange creme drip into a bowl whilst some overweight woman stirs it and tells me how unhealthy it is. I don't think it's enjoyable when someone yells about food, and exclaims odd things while slamming baking trays into an oven. I most certainly don't like watching someone else fucking eat when I'm hungry. I also don't like someone enjoying a cocktail when I am just waking up with a twisted liver and a mouth drier than a thug post dutchman.

What is it about these people that is so alluring?

I woke up this morning and my mother was watching it. Again. Maybe because it's Sunday it really rubs me the wrong way. But EVERY time I watch it I have to fight the sensation of wanting to fill up the tub with boiling water and submersing myself until I'm forced to inhale the agua and burn out my lungs.

Why don't people just go into their kitchens and have a good old fashioned food fight?

Step it up and Don't

Well I finally decided to watch Elizabeth Berkley in her first gig since Showgirls where she shaved her chocha for all to see and bumped lines of coke with Kyle McLachlan. I have to say, there is part of me that likes ol' Lizzie - I think she probably secured a place in my heart when she first performed her "I'm so excited" soliloquoy on Saved by the Bell when I was a youngster.

Some skin grafting and eye lid pulls later, she appears on Bravo as a Xanax-serene angel nymph hosting an odd menagerie of wannabe dancers as they twist and turn through the "audition" process.

The show is poorly produced and it is the first dance show in the history of dance shows that I actually don't like. I'd rather listen to the announcer on Dancing with the Stars say "Carrie Ann Inaba" in that scary voice a trillion times before I'd watch another second of this pathetic installation.

The sad part is, Bravo weakly used all the right elements from its amazing programs like Make me a Supermodel and Runway but this one just doesn't cut it for me.

Also, there is a gay porn star dancer in it which makes the whole thing a bit funnier - considering that the host used to dance at the Cheetah.

Dayum Z

From Bricks and Stones gossip:

But it’s little Zahara, 3, who really rules the roost! “She screams and shouts at the boys when she doesn’t get her way,” says the source. Not even Shiloh, 22 months, is safe — and the toddler has the battle scars to prove it. “Z is always pushing or scratching her.”

Zahara’s picking on Shiloh is usually motivated by snacks. “Z once clawed Shiloh’s cheek after she tried to take her cookie,” says an insider who witnessed one incident. “She’s always pulling on Shiloh’s hair so she can steal her food.”
And little Shiloh has more than her hair to worry about! Recently while Shiloh’s three older siblings roughhoused, she got knocked down and chipped a tooth! “Angie gets worried when Shi plays with them,” says the insider. “She always comes back with a scraped knee or a fat lip!”

Just look at that picture there - I can just hear her:

Eat this fuckin ricey bitch. We'll see who gets in trouble for having more diarreah then!

The Real Anne Boleyn was a Bad Bitch

Ok so you know I just read the book and was mildly obsessed with it and mildly wish I was Anne or George Boleyn because they were actually smart and sinful and would have been coke heads in the early 80s had they been part of the Manhattan court. BUT, they were ugly as is the theme of most people's lives (I'm coming to discover). This in combination with their likely odor underneath all those petticoats is enough to just throw me overboard with delight.