Where in the World is Jeff Van Vonderen?

We're fighting to get you back and we want to invite you to join that fight

In the post Intervention Needed on Intervention, I describe how A&E should just shut down production on Intervention because they're having aged chipmunk Ken Seeley and wax figure Candy Finnegan doing all the interventions this season instead of Jeff Van Vonderen, which is a recipe for lame interventions and incomplete recoveries. This morning I received a comment on my blog stating that Jeff had gone AWOL from the show because he had a "relapse in his own addiction and is receiving treatment for it." My first thought was that that could not possibly be true because Jeff's only addiction is to KICKING ASS AND TAKING NAMES. However, internet research revealed that Jeff took a leave of absence from the show because he relapsed back to drinking/gambling. I'm obviously devastated to hear this news, but I just want to tell Jeff, if he's reading this:

I'm here today because I love you but I feel like I'm losing you. I want you to join in the fight to get you back. I remember the time I first watched Intervention. It was with that woman who was a millionaire but an alcoholic, and had to take a limo cross-country to get to the treatment center. You encouraged this trainwreck to leave her pets and get help. But now all that's changed. You're not on the show anymore. You've left Ken and Candy to help these addicts but Ken has a bad tattoo and Candy looks insane. They also are not as effective as you and sometimes they steal your lines. If you do not come back to the show TODAY, the following will change in our relationship: I will no longer send people flowers for their birthday and sign the card "Jeff Van Vonderen." I will not save the Intervention episodes on my DVR with the intention of one day converting it into a DVD even though I don't know how to do that. I cannot stand by as you allow this show to be destroyed by Ken and Candy. Please accept this precious gift today.

Separate But Equal

These individuals will not be allowed at my gym

In the past few weeks, I've really made an effort to get more in shape, if that is even humanly possible. I work out 5 days a week, eat Boca Burgers and limit my alcohol intake to binge drinking only on Thursday-Sunday. This is no small feat, because my gym is about 20 minutes away by foot so that means every day I have to motivate myself anew to a) walk in the freezing cold for 20 minutes, b) punish myself on the treadmill, b) walk back in the freezing cold for 20 minutes as my sweat converts into icicles.

One of the things that helps me motivate is watching The Biggest Loser, because morbidly obese people screaming in pain on bicycles is very inspirational. One of the things that DE-moralizes me is when I get to the gym and very thin and attractive people are working out near me. Like, what's the point in me running at 8.2 for 15 minutes when no matter how much I run, I will never increase my height, and so even if I technically weigh, say, the same as the MODEL WHO WAS RUNNING ON THE TREADMILL IN FRONT OF ME TODAY, I will always look more squat because she has more surface area over which to distribute her weight. If all this gym going will not result in a modeling contract (other than a bunion modeling contract), why not just throw in the towel now and spend the remainder of my days eating tofu pad thai on a motorized scooter which is what I really want to do anyway. Seriously, if you can't go big, go home and eat Little Debbies.

The point here is, as long as Equinox is infested with thin attractive people, these people will continue to sabotage my workouts and generally try to destroy me. I simply cannot work out in these conditions which is why today I am happy to announce that I'm VERY close to filing a claim that will establish a Separate But Equal doctrine whereby separate gyms as well as separate eating establishments, country clubs, bars, public pools etc. will be established for models and for the rest of us, so that models can stop ruining everyone's lives now and in the future.

List of Monster Ballads

List of songs off Monster Ballads, ranked according to amazingness/ability to produce immediate slow dancing:

1. High Enough - Damn Yankees 2. Something to Believe In - Poison 3. To Be With You - Mr. Big 4. Wind of Change - Scorpions 5. More Than Words Can Say - Alias 6. When I See You Smile - Bad English 7. When I'm With You - Sheriff 8. When I Look into Your Eyes - Firehouse 9. Heaven - Warrant 10. Almost Paradise - Eric Carmen 11. Is This Love - Whitesnake 12. Carrie - Europe

Not ranked due to absurd inclusion on the album: Don't Know What You Got (Till It's Gone) - Cinderella Headed for a Heartbreak - Winger

I'll Never Let You Go - Steelheart

Don't Close Your Eyes - KIX P.S. Um, can someone please explain to me WHY Def Leppard is not available on iTunes? Is that some sort of joke?

Best Friends

Perry & Michou (click to enlarge)

Tool Academy

For an apt comparison of the VH1 show Tool Academy to law firms, check out my post today on ATL.

Compound Songs

I was in Philadelphia on Sunday, and on the drive back to NYC, I was listening to the radio when L.G. noted how completely ridiculous"compound songs"" were. I think he made up the term, but a compound song is a like one song that includes five other songs for absolutely no reason, like Bohemian Rhapsody, which is done for purposes of bragging by the artist. The idea behind that compound song is that it's supposed to be "epic," and by virtue of this it becomes exceedingly ludicrous. It's basically the singer having some grandiose sense of self that he thinks he can make a sweeping 8 minute rock song into a symphony with movements. The compound song is one level more ridiculous than just bringing in the gratuitous children's choir (Rolling Stones' You Can't Always Get What You Want), the gratuitous gospel choir (Madonna's Like a Prayer, R. Kelly's I Believe I Can Fly) or the gratuitous orchestra (every song off Guns 'N Roses' Use Your Illusion 1 & 2). Other examples of the compound song include November Rain, Mr. Roboto, and potentially the most absurd and self-aware corniest "sweeping" song ever made, Scenes from an Italian Restaurant. Seriously, these people need to get over themselves, chop the song into 3 songs and stop attempting to be Beethoven.

You're Only Stealing From Yourself

As I was browsing the headlines on CNN, this story caught my eye about another hedge fund jerk who turned himself in after stealing money and overvaluing the investments and doing other things involving lying. Are people retarded? You would think that after all the press on Bernie Madoff and Marc Dreier, other people who have been stealing money from hedge funds would either take the money out of their mattress and put the money back or just knock it off with the stealing until the coast in clear.

Like if this Arthur Nadel guy just put the money back now and waited two years until Madoff was out of the press, he could've started stealing again but he wouldn't have to be so paranoid. The lesson to be learned here is that if you're stealing from hedge funds, you need to put it in an ING Savings account and not spend it all immediately on toupees and yachts so that when things like Madoff/Dreier happen, you have money to fall back on and get you through until the next available time for stealing.

Job Possibility

Perhaps I spoke too soon about not being able to find a job, as Tiffany sent me this amazing one which I will most certainly apply to. From a posting on Craigslist:

Posse (NYC)

Aspiring R&B singer/rapper needs an entourage to help with entrances and 'causing a scene'

- Experience in dance a plus
- Male and female accepted
- Attire will be provided
- Aspiring singers and actors need not apply (not looking for competition)
- Positive outlook a MUST
- Thirst for danger also a major plus
- Must work Nights and Weekends

This is not your normal job! applicants must be SERIOUS about being part of something bigger than themself (my posse)!

The light of heart need not apply!

Thanks

Over 300 unique individuals clicked on my post regarding Nikki from The Bachelor's absurd sideburns. These individuals arrived at my site via searches like "The Bachelor Nikki Sideburns" and "Nikki The Bachelor Crazy Sideburns." I know you all have a choice in coverage when it comes to sideburns and The Bachelor and I deeply appreciate your choosing Living in Narnia as your source for this information. Let me just reiterate that absolutely nothing is more important to me than ridiculing people on a timely basis, and I strive to provide you, the readers, with the most quality insults available today. You know, people told me all along that I was a cruel bitch with a talent for mockery, and now I know it's true. Your unwavering support means more to me than my nosejob. Haha, just kidding. It means less than my nosejob but more to me than all my subscriptions to Us Weekly, In Touch, Celebrity Life & Style, People and Star magazines combined. And that's saying alot.

The Bachelor Drinking Game

Whose dream of being sober will end TONIGHT?

Brought to you by Subdivided Kid, Aliza and yours truly. This drinking game should be played with champagne ONLY, and before each drink, each player must ask the person to their left, "Will you accept this drink?"

Drink once when any of the following are said:

"I'm on the path to falling in love"
"This is becoming real"
"I'm started to have feelings for you"
"We have a connection/I feel a strong connection"
"I just want you to be YOU"
"It's tough being here with all the other girls"
"I hate sharing you"
"If Jason likes [name of other contestant], then I don't know if we're supposed to be together"
"I'm ready to be a mom"
"I'm ready to be a wife"
"I think I'm falling for him"
"My walls are up"
"It just sucks to pour your heart out/be vulnerable and get rejected"
"I really thought we had a connection"
"You're such an amazing person"
"It's been an emotional week"
"There's a rose on the line"
"Ty is the most important thing in my life"

Drink twice when any of the following happens:

Champagne flutes clink
The most romantic date in Bachelor history occurs
The most shocking elimination yet occurs
One on one date involves helicopter, jet, blimp or other aviation device
Dinner at the top of a building
Romantic picnic
Hometown date occurs in which the fathers "grill" Jason
Someone pops an implant
Jason gets back together with the mother of Ty
DeAnna comes back and ruins everything

Emergency Update: Nikki from The Bachelor

Note right sideburn halfway down cheek

Um, it has become clear to me based on tonight's episode of The Bachelor, that Nikki the amphibian CUTS HER SIDEBURNS. Repeat: Nikki CUTS HER SIDEBURNS. In her updo it was revealed beyond a reasonable doubt that she in fact has sideburns that go down her cheeks, part of which she lasers and the other part which she ARBITRARILY CUTS into SIDEBURNS. I appreciate your attention to this matter.

Not Acceptable - Rompers

Not good

I recently received an inquiry as to the acceptability of "rompers." For those who, like myself, had no idea what a "romper" was, it is actually just a deceptive term for a one-piece jumpsuit - like a dress with pants or shorts instead of a skirt bottom, similar to the outfit Doc wore at the end of Back to the Future when Marty McFly had to be blasted into the future in his DeLorean. In any event, now that these monstrosities have been brought to my attention, I am able to officially declare rompers in no way acceptable. They look like something a magician's assistant would have worn in a Doug Henning magic show in the 70s. They are shapeless bags that appear to come with dumps already taken in them.

If, during an attack of insanity or boredom, you accidentally buy a romper, you'll be like Liam Neeson at the end of that great date movie, Schinder's List, where he takes off a gold pin from his lapel and says "This, this could have saved one more!" when you look in your closet in three years and see a romper and shoe booties and cry and scream at yourself for buying them when you could have spent the money on Louboutins or personal training sessions.

For Whom The Bell Tolls

It tolls for thee

I live DIRECTLY across from three churches. One is a Greek Orthodox church which rents out its basement to a corny Evangelical church that is constantly blasting Jesus rock music into my apartment. The third church is a Polish Catholic church that continues to pretend that Pope John Paul II is still alive in that they have a bronze bust of him which always has fresh flowers next to it, and on Easter, there were pamphlets that people had thrown on the street that said that the service was dedicated to the "Holly See" with a picture of JP II.

In the beginning of December 2008, the Polish church apparently purchased a RECORDING of bells chiming to the tunes of "Noel, Noel" and "Joy to the World" in preparation for Christmas. I know for a fact that it was a recording, because we're not talking about Notre Dame here, it's a church in the middle of a city street with an empty steeple and no bells to speak of. The church proceeded to test these recordings continuously for 24 hours, so that after about 5 hours of this crap in my apartment, I found myself singing along, "Noel, Noel, Noel Noel! Born is the king of Is-ro -el!" In any event, once the "testing period" was up, they switched the recording to play on the hour, every hour either Noel, Noel or Joy to the World. 3 a.m? Noel, Noel time! 7 a.m.? How about some Joy to the World? What this essentially means is that every hour, someone goes up to the steeple with a boombox, presses play, and then holds a megaphone up to the speakers for 2 minutes, which may be the worst job ever.

At first I thought that once Christmas/New Years was over, they'd cut it out with these recordings, but the plan seems to be to keep the fake bells going until such time as someone breaks into the steeple and pulls a gun on the guy with the boombox. And that someone may be me and that time may be VERY soon.

Weak Chins

The power of 10,000 jaws

G Wolf brings up an excellent point in his comment about R.I.P Jesse Czsinzsizak. G Wolf says "His chin emits enough power to electrify Belize for several years." Jesse's chin is indeed angular and powerful. Angular jaws are my NUMBER ONE most important feature on guys. If it looks like your jaw has its own regular workouts at the gym, then you're the the guy for me. If it looks like your chin could colonize a small village, then we were meant to be.

I CANNOT stand weak chins on men, probably because I despise my own chin. Not that I have a weak chin - thank god - I just have an amorphous jaw similar to the one Demi Moore had during, and prior to Ghost, before she got some elusive chiseling jaw surgery which I've looked into. The amorphous jaw is terrible because when I'm not smiling I look like Inky/Blinky from Pac Man and when I do smile the prune makes its appearance and ruins everything. In any event, the whole POINT of a relationship is to have a yang for your yin, so I need whomever I'm dating to be the chin/jaw in our relationship and to have enough jaw for both of us. I foolishly thought that Jesse could BE that chin, but as I mentioned before, when I saw "Fool's Gold" as his favorite movie, I knew the jig was up and I would have to find a mandible elsewhere.

R.I.P. Crush on Jesse Cszizakscizk

Favorite movies include: Napoleon Dynomite [sic], Bad Boyz, The Notebook

Yesterday, it was brought to my attention that ex-DeAnna Fattass fiance Jesse Czinsizksizaczk had a new love interest, namely Holly Durst, who on was the most sham-filled Bachelor season thus far, The Bachelor: London Calling. You may recall this season because it has Matt Grant as the Bachelor, and he was a giant jerk who ultimately selected Shayne Lamas because he was truly in love with her and in no way due to the fact that she is Lorenzo Lamas' daughter. Normally I would be outraged upon hearing this news, because I have SPECIFICALLY ASKED Jesse to call me at least a dozen times, but the last time I didn't hear from him, I took matters into my own hands and checked his MySpace profile to see if he was busy or something.

It was there that I discovered that he attended a Vocational/Technical high school as his highest level of education which is in no way acceptable. Even more horrifying, two of his favorite movies include "Drill Bit Taylor" and "Fool's Gold." Again, completely unacceptable. I am not exaggerating when I say that these two facts killed anything I ever felt for him, but I was embarrassed to do a post on it because I have spent so much time on the blog and otherwise devising ways for him to be my boyfriend. But you readers deserve to know the truth - which is that Jesse is a bona fide idiot and I a fool (formerly) in love.

Ted Kennedy Collapses

The "Lion of the Senate" collapsed from a seizure yesterday at a luncheon for newly elected President Obama in what can only be described as a desperate attempt to steal the spotlight. Seriously, this reminded me of 6th grade gym class when it was my turn to jump over the pummel horse in my new Mickey Mouse shorts and Danit pretended to faint because of low blood sugar. She just couldn't let me have my moment, she had to take it from me by force.

Before I get millions of hate comments (read: two hate comments), I'm not suggesting that Ted Kennedy could control the seizure, and I'm not suggesting that he's faking a brain tumor; I'm just saying that the timing is a little suspicious.

Fart 'N Walk

Not just for warfare anymore

For the past two days, I've been waking DIRECTLY behind people on the street as they perpetrate the classic fart 'n walk. For those of you who are pretending not to know EXACTLY what I'm talking about, the fart 'n walk (hereinafter "FNW") is when someone is walking on the street, usually with a group of people and farts while walking, thereby conveniently moving away from the eye of the fart and being able to fart in a group of people with no one the wiser. Yesterday as I was walking home from the gym, three teenagers in the usual get up of leggings, uggs, puffy jackets and ragamuffin knit hats were walking in front of me when I walked RIGHT INTO the epicenter of a fart. The one who obviously farted turned around to ensure that no one was directly behind her, and when I gave her a horrified look she turned red and quickly turned back, as she realized she'd executed an FNW when the coast was most definitely not clear.

I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I can change the world and stop people from emitting FNWs. They were here before me, and they'll be here after I'm dead. The only thing I'm saying is that if you're planning on facilitating a FNW, turn around before doing so, and confirm that there is no one within 50 feet walking distance, as the average "smoldering" time for a fart emitted while walking is a function of both food ingested, speed of walking, power of fart and humidity, i.e., S= (F x LM x BMI x mph)/H, where S = smell, F = fart, LM = last meal, BMI = body mass index, mph = miles per hour and H = humidity. If everyone sticks to 50 feet, we should all be ok for the most part, but know yourself and know when to increase this number, if for example, you've just had Indian food or you're limping.

B-Day

Today marks one of the most important and historic days in our nation's history. Millions of people have been waiting for this moment since early November. That's right - today I will be inaugurating Botox into my chin at 11:30am. Stay tuned for up to the minute coverage of this momentous occasion.

Ways To Bring Sexy Back

1. Email it
2. Return to sender
3. Fax it
4. Exchange for store credit within 14 days of purchase
5. Take-out

List of Names That I Accidentally Called The Movie "Something's Gotta Give" in a Gchat with Risa

1. Give It A Rest
2. As Good As It Gets
3. It Gets Better
4. It's Not Enough
5.Too Much is Not Enough
6. When Things Fall Apart
7. I'm Telling You For the Last Time

History Repeats Itself

I was talking with Aliza the other day and we made a list of supposedly "new" movies that are actually completely identical to old movies that came out years ago that the movie studios just assume that everyone forgot about. Well, nice try because I didn't forget and neither did Aliza. Below I present to you a list of the identical movies:

1. Tale of Despereaux = Ratatouille/
2. Yes Man = Liar Liar
3. Seven Pounds = Pursuit of Happyness
4. Dreamgirls = that movie with Beyonce that looks like Dreamgirls 2
5. Milk = I Am Sam
6. Doubt = Notes on a Scandal (i.e., Notes on a Sandal)
7. Last Chance Harvey = As Good As It Gets/Something's Gotta Give
8. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button = The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time/Tuck Everlasting
9. Marley & Me = Beethoven

No Time for a Job

A few weeks ago someone asked me how I didn't get bored "doing nothing" all day. While it is true that I am "technically" "unemployed," I actually am busier than ever. In the mornings I have Wife Swap, What Not to Wear and Trading Spouses on my DVR, and my afternoons are jam-packed with Maury Povich paternity tests, Oprah and Dr. Phil. I never even have time to go out at night anymore, because every single night of the week I'm booked solid with The Bachelor, The Biggest Loser, Intervention, Top Chef, The Real Housewives of Orange County, Tool Academy, Rock of Love Bus, Sober House, Confessions of a Teen Idol and Say Yes to the Dress. Add that to keeping on top of Us, In Touch, Star, People, Celebrity Life & Style, Marie Claire, Lucky and Glamour and mentally preparing for Millionaire Matchmaker and I Love Money 2 which is coming up in February, and it's a grueling schedule.

Remembering the plotlines and coming up with fresh insults for everyone on the shows is no easy task, so when people tell me that they're getting killed at work I know EXACTLY how they feel because I have never worked harder in my life than I do now. At any moment I could be quizzed by Megan or Risa via Gchat about Fergie's hideous wedding dress or asked to imitate alcoholic Marie from Intervention ("I wuv you Bora") and I take my job VERY seriously and need to be prepared. A few days ago someone emailed me about Howie Mandel being hospitalized with an irregular heartbeat, and if I hadn't known about it before that person sent me the link it would have been humiliating.

Run-Ins

Twin coats: not cool

Last night I was walking Perry and I ran into a girl that I went to law school with. She was always very nice but she was definitely part of the "cool" crowd that was otherwise filled with jerks and people who delusionally thought they the great beauties and fashionistas of our time. Naturally this crowd was friends with a "cool" guy crowd which was filled with short guys with spiky hair who had nosejobs and chin implants and wore Tiffany toggle necklaces.

In any event, she was walking with an older lady and she turned around, recognized me and introduced me to her boyfriend's mother. Two seconds later, her tall goodlooking boyfriend rolled up and introduced himself to me. So let me set this scene: I am wearing an Old Navy puffy coat, walking my highly groomed and bizarre looking dog who is wearing a coat that exactly matches mine, when I run into a very cool person who is standing there doing cool things like being with her boyfriend. She confirms that she is still working at the firm where she started, and I reveal that I am a blogger. Naturally, after our conversation, I briefly contemplated throwing myself in front of car, because this shit ALWAYS HAPPENS. Like whenever I run into cool people I'm always doing something completely ridiculous or looking like a giant asshat, like walking my dog in a matching coat with the wrong colored hair or holding a bag of take-out or being unemployed. Seriously, I just don't understand why people can't run into me when I'm doing cool things, like being at cool concerts like Neutral Milk Hotel or Wolf Parade or wearing my cubic zirconia engagement ring from Canal Street.

Botox: A Call To Action

If someone has the number for her plastic surgeon, that would be helpful

So for about 3 years now I've been getting Botox injection in my pruney chin. When I was in 5th grade, I was swinging between two tables during art class after school, when the tables moved apart and I fell flat on my chin. My chin cracked open, the muscle fell out of it and there was blood everywhere. My mom was working that day, so my friend Rebecca's mom who was driving carpool picked me up in her Volvo, and drove me to the hospital and tried to calm me down by repeating "You're such a trooper, you're such a trooper" the entire way to the hospital while I continued to scream. My mom met me at the hospital and they had to sedate me so they could tuck the muscle back into my face and sew up my chin and then put bandages on it so that I looked like I was wearing a beard. Since that day, the muscles have never "laid" correctly, so when I smile or talk, the bottom of my chin contorts into a prune. I thought Botox would be the answer to this, so with my first paycheck at my law firm I ran to the plastic surgeon's office and instructed him to kill that shit. He injected like 8 injections of Botox into my chin, and I asked him if it would screw up my smile, and he reassured me that I wouldn't. Needless to say, for the next 7 months I could not move my chin and could not smile because my "depressor" muscles in my chin were paralyzed. After about 8 months, the Botox has faded so that the ideal combination of de-prunization and smile rejuvenation occurred, so the next time I went back to this guy, I told him to lighten up and stop ruining my smile. He ended up giving me the ideal dosage, which eliminated prunification and didn't disturb my smile. But the last time I went to him, it ruined my smile again, so I've been gun-shy about going back.

The point being, I don't want to go back to the same guy. Does anybody have a recommendation for a good Botoxing Plastic Surgeon or Dermatologist who'd take $$$ out of pocket since I don't have health insurance? I just saw some pics of me from this past weekend and the prune is back, big time, and I can't live with it anymore. Email me.

The View from Narnia

Bumpits*

*Megan has requested one

The Bachelor Analysis I

Whose dream of marrying someone this corny will end tonight?

Transcript of official The Bachelor analysis taken from a Gchat conversation last night between Bachelor authority Risa and myself:

Risa: that show is way too long

7:43 PM me: seriously

7:44 PM Risa: he's not that interesting

me: it's hard to assess his personality

he doesn't seem hilarious

Risa: no he doesn't

me: or that intelligent

7:45 PM Risa: he seems pretty average

me: i bet he has a temper

he seems pretty boring

Risa: yeah

me: none of these girls is hilarious

none of the girls is ever hilarious

Risa: true

me: it's all just serious

Risa: they're all ready to move

for love

me: it's really nutty

7:46 PM no one is funny

they live in a world

where no one laughs

Risa: no

they are all desperate

and make women look beyond pathetic

me: love is on the line

Risa: "it was always my dream to be taken shopping!!!"

7:47 PM in the next episode, a girl gets to wear a really expensive necklace!!!!

7:49 PM me: so dumb

why the hell

would i care

if got a necklace on loan

Risa: because it is your life long dream

for a tv show

to give you a necklace

to wear temporarily

7:50 PM me: ha

Risa: jason is so amazing

i think he's the one that got away from me

me: ha

haha

Risa: they also talked about his body

me: hahaha

i want to talk about his hairline

Risa: although

i saw he had back-ne

me: really

i didnt see that

Risa: it was spotted by me

in a close up

the foreign woman

was wearing the yellow dress

that kate hudson wore

7:52 PM in how to lose a guy

me: oh really?

i thought the dress

was bizarre

and too big

from Zum Zum or Jessica McClintock

VERY embarrassing

Risa: yeah

me: if deanna wins this

i won't be able to go on

it would be too cruel

7:53 PM who died and made her king

Risa: she's the new trista rehn me: ugh

nikki is hideola

she looks like swamp thing

and the stretch marks

Risa: i'm not sure who i like

me: on her boobs are ridiculous

i mean

this show is not broadcast in hi-def

and i could SEE those stretch marks

abort abort

Facebook Group: Don't Pretend You Didn't See It

Join me here

Um, some of you may have noticed that I put a Facebook badge on this blog on the right hand column. This took me no less than 3 Google searches and 45 minutes to do, and I thought for sure people would be joining the Living in Narnia Facebook group like it was GOING OUT OF STYLE and that I'd probably have to start a second group because there were too many applicants. Yet it appears that I have once again woefully misjudged everybody's interest in LIN on Facebook. First I humbly offer up golden positions in my Facebook Cabinet that were at the time vacant such as Grand Vizier and Lt. Colonel, and no one takes me up on it. Now I offer up the opportunity to JOIN MY FACEBOOK GROUP, and people act like they're just totally overextended and have better things to do. Well, I have news for you: if you think that I don't know that you're on Facebook 24/7 monitoring Status Updates and and reviewing Relationship Statuses to determine who's broken up or gotten engaged and then having conversations with your friends to determine whether when someone hides their relationship status, that means that they're a) in a relationship, b) single and embarrassed about it, c) in a relationship that won't work out and the other person is pressuring for a Facebook Relationship Status change but that person knows he or she will eventually be embarrassed when they change from "In a Relationship" to "Single" so they'd just rather hide it all and then say that they're not claiming they're single, they're just not saying anything at all because it's nobody's business, or d) in a relationship but they don't want one of their friends on Facebook to see that they're in a relationship, you're sorely mistaken. What I'm saying is that at some point when you're monitoring other people's activities, stop being corny and just join this damn group. Thanks.

Things Discussed at Bachelor Parties

This weekend I went to a wedding shower and bachelorette party, and when I got back, L.G. asked me what we talked about. I replied that I'm sure we didn't talk about the same things that people at bachelor parties discuss, and he asked me what I thought people at bachelor parties talked about, so I made a list of things that I'm pretty confident are discussed, which I present to you below:

1. Money
2. Steak
3. Gadgets
4. Sports
5. The Sharper Image
6. Cars
7. Ways to make money
8. Chicks
9. Aeron chairs
10. Patron tequila

My Downstairs Neighbors

Party at my place every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday

I've already described my upstairs neighbors and their ceaseless attempts to wake me up on Sunday, but honestly their Jack and the Beanstalk games and piano throwing habits are NOTHING compared to my downstairs neighbors. Both sets of neighbors have made a pact to make sure that I am disturbed as much as possible and they have devised a system whereby the upstairs neighbors handle the weekend noise and the downstairs neighbors handle the weekday noise, although the downstairs neighbors have a different approach.

You see, every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday night, at approximately 11:58pm, my downstairs neighbors host raves which follow a very particular format. When I turn off most of the lights in my apartment to settle into bed and start reading Opus Dei: The Truth Behind the Myth, it triggers a silent alarm downstairs, at which point my neighbors radio their friends to stop hiding behind the bushes outside and come in because the party's about to start. The rules for the party always the same: tap shoes only, no less than 3 basketballs must be bouncing at once, communication at the party may only be done through megaphones, and the designated light switcher is in charge of turning the lights on and off every two seconds while the mirror holder's duty is to hold a mirror in the backyard reflecting the flickering light into my apartment.

When I turn off all my lights to go to bed, this triggers an additional silent alarm which then turns on their stereo to jungle/house music, although the exact song is selected based on whichever song has the most drum beats per second. For the next hour, guests tap themselves into a frenzy, take out bongos and put a microphone next to it and play Harry Belafonte's greatest hits and when that fails to get me out of bed, the glow-stick party spills out in the backyard where the mirror holder reflects as many neon necklaces into my apartment as possible until I get out of bed and scream, "I'M UP! I'M UP!" at which point the party can be disbanded until the following night.

Mickey Rourke Ok By Me

I half-heartedly watched the Golden Globes because Rock of Love Bus was on, and one has to have priorities, so I missed Mickey Rourke's acceptance speech for winning Best Actor for The Wrestler. I actually loved that movie, probably because growing up we had a nanny/housekeeper who loved WWF wrestling and used to order the RAW and steel cage matches on pay-per-view, and also my dad watched WWF (prior to World Wildlife Federation claiming the initials WWF and forcing the wrestling association to become WWE - not joking). In any event, in his speech Mickey thanks Axl Rose and his dogs, both the ones he has now and the ones that have passed on, because "sometimes all you got in your dog and they meant the world to me." Maybe it's because I'm down to a maintenance dose of Lexapro, but when I read this article which describes how Mickey takes his dogs to premieres which obviously seems bizarre, I cried for 20 minutes at my computer because it's clear that he just adores his dogs and wants them with him everywhere. He took his dog Loki with him to the Venice film festival last year because she was 16 and Mickey wanted to spend every minute he had left with her. He also describes how he gave mouth to mouth to his dog for 45 minutes at his house when it was dying and was so depressed he couldn't return home for two weeks. However insane Mickey Rourke's plastic surgery or his other antics, he gets a free pass in my book.

I know I've said this before but if Perry should ever, EVER die, I will very calmly rent a canoe, fill it with provisions and spend the remainder of my days floating in the open sea eating gummy worms and being delirious and waiting for the ocean to take me.

Not Acceptable - Mantyhose

No

As a woman living in NY, is it my duty to perpetrate any and all deceptions to increase my beauty by any means necessary. This includes, but is not limited to: deprunifying my chin via Botox, dyeing my hair, wearing contacts, artfully coloring in my eyebrows, availing myself of latest advances alchemy and unsubstantiated science by using eye creams made of the Youth Molecule TM, whitening my teeth, paying someone $8,000 to break my nose, wearing push-up bras when called for by the situation, and of course, donning Spanx at all times.

One of the nice things is that despite me doing all this, people treat me normally and even sometimes act like I'm attractive and overlook this giant mirage. However, if the tables were turned and I found that the guy I was dating was, I don't know, WEARING SPANX, there would be hell to pay. First of all, CREEPY. Second of all, a man wearing Spanx is potentially THE most unmanly thing I've ever heard of besides To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Love, Julie Newmar. And yet, according to this article, the demand for "Mantyhose" is on the rise by non-cross-dressing men. At this point, I would like to declare that if I ever, EVER made out with a guy and then it was revealed that he was wearing mantyhose, I would stop, drop and roll out of the room and call a parent or a trusted friend. The bottom line is that I'm the one that's supposed to be using girdles to hide my fat and there just can't be two people in a relationship lying to each other about their bodies. The way relationships work is that the girl gets to lie and the guy has to be deceived and then act casual about it. That's the way it's always been and that's the way it needs to be, because frankly I can't go on if guys start wearing mantyhose. I cannot go on.

Hair Disaster

Why can't salons get it right, seeing as it's their JOB

Two days ago, I rolled into my salon for my tri-monthly highlight-lowlight session and haircutting extravaganza. I'm EXTREMELY PICKY about how my hair looks, both in cut and color, mainly because I'm just being honest with myself in that I'm not Natalie Portman in V for Vendetta and can't just shave my head and still look shamazing. If for some reason I ever lost my hair or had to have it cut short I would actually look like a pan-faced monster. What I'm basically saying is that I hide behind my hair and use it as a smoke and mirrors distraction to trick people into thinking I'm better looking than I am. This is why, if I get a bad hair cut or color, I pretty much lose my shit and my self-confidence crumbles like a drunk game of Jenga. I've been to the same colorist for about 4 years now, and she's gotten it right every single time - not too blonde, not too brown - just the perfect shade of $350. That is, until this time.

As I got in the chair, I said "do what we did last time" which was the same as the time before and the time before, and after she foils it up and then takes them out and is combing through it, I realize the roots look redder and lighter than usual. Stay calm, I say to myself, it's wet hair and these things change when you blow dry them. So the colorist blowdries it and it's hard to tell in the salon light, but it seemed ever so slightly too blonde. She then takes a half inch off my hair which is I say is ok to do, and then when it's done I determine that that was a tragic mistake and that this hair sessions has effectively transformed me from supermodel to hideous troll in three hours. I have a strict policy against crying in salons, so I paid for my shit, walked 15 steps to my apartment and promptly sobbed into my pillow, asking Perry if he thought it was too blonde and begging god to just end it all. Later that night somebody confirmed that it was slightly blonder than usual, but "not in a bad way" which any fool knows is code for "in a bad way."

So this morning I mustered up my courage to go back to the salon and ask in the most calm and non-offensive tone I could muster if she wouldn't mind? Putting some lowlights in? Because it might be a little? Too blonde? The colorist was really nice and put in a few lowlights, and as she's blowing my hair dry I realize that my hair is now waaaaayy too dark, to the point where I might actually not technically be a blonde in terms of online dating profiles or whatever. So I went home and cried over this as well, but I feel like I can't go back because then it looks like I'm pulling an insane Goldilocks. And this is not in my mind because Risa said it was darker than usual. I feel without my normal hair color all my powers are lost. This is very serious and I actually don't know what to do.

Howie Do It

I can't take it

Some of you may remember during the '80s when Howie Mandel was already a washed-up comic from the '80s. You may remember him from Shelly Duvall's Faerie Tale Theatre on Showtime, where in the Princess Who Had Never Laughed, he played a "hilarious" medieval peasant named Weiner Head Waldo with a Jehri curl mullet who loved his pig, sang a song entitled, "A Pig is A Person Like You and Me" and successfully made the princess laugh despite all his jokes being embarrassingly bad. You may also remember him from the early 90's cartoon "Bobby's World," which was certainly a piece of shit.

In any event, when came in vogue a few years ago to start giving 80s and 90s D-list celebrities prime-time game shows (i.e., Bob Saget hosting 1 v. 100, Dennis Miller hosting Amnesia, Jeff Foxworthy hosting Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?) so that America could see for themselves just how desperate these guys had become, Howie Mandel lined up to get his ridiculous game show, Deal or No Deal. Seeking to distance himself from his old "goofy" look, he shaved off his mullet, got an ear piercing and started wearing form fitting clothes. Obviously nobody expected this show to succeed, primarily because it's ridiculous and secondarily because it was hosted by Howie Mandel, so at the time Howie was able to put outrageous clauses in his contract that were tied to the success of the show that Fox Broadcasting only agreed to because Fox obviously thought the show would be canceled after one episode. Unfortunately, one of these clauses stated that if the show was not canceled after two seasons, Howie would have carte blanche to do another comedy show of his choosing and Fox would be powerless to stop him. Well, it appears that that cursed day has arrived, because I just saw a preview for Howie Do It, a version of "Punk'd" where Howie pulls "hilarious" "pranks" on "unsuspecting" "viewers." For instance, in one of the sketches, Howie puts on a bad toupee and pretends to be waiter in a restaurant and hands a customer a glass of water while sticking his finger in the glass. The customer is horrified, but then Howie rips off the toupee which had COMPLETELY disguised him before and immediately recognizes the waiter as HOWIE MANDEL, and starts screaming because he's a huge celebrity and he's pulled a hilarious prank on her. Frankly if Howie Mandel put on a wig and attempted to serve me dirty water I would just ask him why the hell he was wearing that wig and then ask him if he knew where my real waiter went.

My point in explaining all this is that in the future we can avoid shows like Howie Do It if we all band together and stop watching the original bad shows, like Deal or No Deal. That show is objectively terrible, and yet someone somewhere is watching it, which makes the network think that America is craving more Howie Mandel when that's really not the case at all. So what I'm saying is that even if there is absolutely nothing else on except for Deal or No Deal, you need to remember the tragedy of the commons and stop being selfish and turn off the tv and just Gchat for an hour so that we can stop encouraging this crap.

Cold Sores

Well, I just got back from the deli where I usually acquire my daily Zone bars and coffee. This time, I had decided to "buy healthy things" as part of Operation Fat Thigh Minimization, a new and fairly emergency operation that is being implemented in light of the events that occurred in New Orleans. Such healthy foods included green apples, yogurt-covered raisins, Jello snacks that people eat on the Biggest Loser, plain yogurt, Boca burgers and Yogi-brand tea for maximum spiritual enlightenment.

As I'm checking out at the register, I ask the Korean lady behind it if I could also have a small coffee, and when she returned to the register after making my coffee, it then that I notice that she has a GIANT FESTERING COLD SORE ON HER LIP. It was large, red and FLAKING. I would say that my fear of getting cold sores ranks second only to my fear of bed bugs, which is to say that pretty much nothing on god's green earth could be more alarming to me. I understand that people have cold sores, but if you work in the FOOD BUSINESS, perhaps when your sore is in full on infection mode, you might want to call in sick to work or wear a band aid or something to minimize transmission. So I'm watching her in horror as she's touching all my groceries, lifting the coffee into the bag and then attempting to give me my change back IN MY HAND at which point I recoiled and pretended to be routing around in my pockets for my keys so that the money that her hand would not touch my hand, thereby buying myself time to decide whether I wanted her to keep the $4 change or risk getting cold sores from the money.

I ultimately gingerly took the change from the counter, eying it for any cold sore viruses and when I determined that there weren't any on the bills that were readily visible, I put it my pocket but not in my wallet as a precaution so that the other bills wouldn't get infected if by some chance I hadn't seen the virus. I took the grocery bag out of the deli, promptly dumped the coffee in the garbage can, went home and washed the apples, the Boca burger box and all the other stuff in scalding hot water. In better times, I would have thrown it all out, but I'm actually not a millionaire anymore, and if getting cold sores is the price I have to pay in order to save money, so be it.

Worst Fears Potentially Confirmed

Get thee to a nunnery

Well, in the scenes from the upcoming season of The Bachelor, DEANNA IS BACK AND SAYING THAT SHE MADE A MISTAKE in picking Jesse and wants Jason back. They then show some shots of the other girls freaking out about why she's back and how she's hogging all his time and how Jason's into it too. It is now all too clear that DeAnna broke up with Jesse in November just in time so that she could once again be on the show because DeAnna is obsessed with being on tv and can't stop being obsessed with fame.

Normally I would not waste inordinate time worrying about her cameo, but the montage ends with him proposing to a VAGUELY DUMPY TAN BRUNETTE in a light blue dress. Friends, I fear that that vaguely dumpy tan brunette may be DeAnna. In fact, after watching the proposal in slow motion 3 times, I can confirm with nearly 100% accuracy that that is DeAnna's EXACT olive-y skin shade and those untoned arms are identical to hers. I can also confirm with 100% accuracy that DeAnna favors pastel-colored dresses. As if this was not proof in itself, BOTH Tiffany and Risa agree that the brunette in the proposal shot is likely DeAnna. And when I watched the montage in slow motion for the fourth time, my heart sank as I realized the beast had once again stolen both Jesse and Jason from me, while I once again looked on helplessly waiting for them to read this blog and call me. How many lives must she ruin before someone stops her? She's already ruined my life, Jesse's life, Jason's life, Brad's life and Jeremy the tin man's life. Stop the insanity.

Friendly Reminder Re: Bachelor Premiere TONIGHT

Will your DVR accept this rose?

Just a reminder that TONIGHT is the two hour season premiere of The Bachelor with Jason Mesnick on ABC starting at 8pm. You all remember Jason as the guy who has that annoying son named Ty that he constantly talks about, and whom DeAnna Fattass rejected on the show. This show promises exceedingly high levels of earnestness as well as extreme corniness, primarily due to Jason's overwhelmingly corny nature. Today is an especially important episode, as we the viewers will meet the girls, all of whom will be wearing Zum Zum prom dresses, who will then embarrass themselves by singing "Amazing Grace," playing trombone or doing push-ups in front of Jason in order to make a "good" first impression and not be immediately eliminated. Just as it is FAA regulation that flights may not take off without at least one screaming baby, so too does The Bachelor require that there be at least two girls on the show named the same thing, with the most viable contenders being "Jen" and "Crystal." I also hereby predict an implant to natural boob ratio of 4:1 among contenders.

Whose dream of marrying a divorcee with a child who works in HR will end TONIGHT?

Review of New Orleans

Preaching the humble word of Christ outside of Female Impersonators: Seeing is Believing strip club for maximum effect

I just got back from New Orleans today, having never been before. On the plane down there I took JetBlue so I split the flight down by reading Holy Blood, Holy Grail and then watching A&E's "Secrets of the Book of Revelation" special on the tv in the back of my seat, which informed me that the concept of the Rapture where believers get bodily assumed into heaven before Armageddon happens is not in Revelation at all, but was actually invented about 100 years ago by some embezzler/real estate speculator/trustworthy biblical scholar named Schofield, who thought it would be a good idea to, I don't know, REWARD BELIEVERS BY REMOVING THEM FROM THE EARTH PRIOR TO ITS DESTRUCTION.

In any event, as I walked around Bourbon Street, with a hundred bars with nearly identical neon lights that said things like "Mango Mango Mango" and "Huge Ass Beer," obese people walking around with drinks shaped like fleur de lis and hand- grenades and cover bands blasting "Sweet Home Alabama" onto the streets as the college fratboy Alabama Sugar Bowl fans wearing "Bama" shirts pumped their drinks in the air and screamed "Roll Tide Roll!", I knew for certain that we are now in the last days and that when god comes down to smite the earth he will be smiting Las Vegas first, followed IMMEDIATELY by New Orleans. It was like walking into Satan's lair. I have absolutely no doubt god was watching me and everyone else shoving Cafe Du Monde beignets buried under trough-fulls of powdered sugar in our faces at 10am and was wondering how the hell earth could have possibly gotten this bad.

What's really ludicrous is that in none of the coverage of Hurricane Katrina did anybody suggest that the storm might actually have been god's warning to the city that they will smitten for sure unless they start cleaning up their act, for starters including The Royal House Cafe stopping triple frying their "eggplant straws" to the point where they disintegrate on contact and Pierre Maspero's stopping encouraging people by charging ONE DOLLAR FOR A LARGE STRAWBERRY DAIQUIRI. Apparently, one other person agrees with me on this because in the middle of Bourbon Street near "Barely Legal" and "Little Darlings" strip clubs as drunk people were tripping over themselves and drinking hand-grenades, the guy pictured above planted a cross and started shouting stuff about Jesus with a megaphone and I feel like he really made an impact.