Blog of the week...

Blogs are the funnest, are they not?

Here's my friend Kelly's blog which she claims will actually "make you dumb." But quite frankly, if my love of Walker: Texas Ranger hasn't done that already, I'm willing to take the risk.

http://noticethings.wordpress.com/

Enjoy!

I hate Tuesdays...

Mondays are always rough. I mean, no one wants to go back to work after a weekend of weekendy goodness. But Tuesdays...well Tuesdays are the REAL bummers. Think about it - has there ever been a Tuesday when you haven't said, "Jeez...it's ONLY Tuesday. Ugh." or "Is it really only Tuesday?" or "Sweet! The Dancing With the Stars Results Show is on tonight! Kim Kardashian is going DOWN!"

Well you know what I mean.

I have the Tuesday Blues. And there's only one thing that will give me the pick-me-up I need to make it through the day:



You're welcome.

Life in my personal sitcom...

Sometimes my life takes odd turns and I find myself somehow embroiled in events and activities that result in all sorts of hilarity ensuing. Unfortunately that hilarity often ensues as a direct result of physical injury to my person, or a solid blow to my ego. And this weekend was no different.

My fiancee and I were helping my sister and brother-in-law with a little spring/fall cleaning. My fiancee and brother-in-law were in the garage, playing with power tools and burping or chest thumping or whatever it is that men do when they're not in the presence of ladies. My sister and I were cleaning out the tiny walk-in closet in my nephew's room.

So there I am, barefoot, sweaty, and knee deep in piles of burp cloths and rubber nipples, when my sister Michelle comes in to show me something.

And that's when it happened. My nephew (who is not even two years old) slammed the closet door shut, locking Michelle and me in a 3X5 foot closet. After about 10 minutes of cooing "Max, sweetie...open the door...turn the knob. Max? Come on lovie...open the door." and getting only "Mama, close! Close door!" in response, we decided that drastic measures were needed.

I'm not going to go into ALL the details but I'll end with this: to escape we had to LITERALLY kick our way - Jackie Chan style - out of the closet all while singing children's songs and saying things like, "Auntie Denise is so silly, isn't she? Making all this loud noise!" to soothe my screaming nephew.

I have a cracked rib and a seriously bruised and scratched leg to show for it.

But the best part of the story is this. We go out to the garage - my nephew won't stop shaking, my sister is red and puffy from crying, I have blood trickling down my leg. And what do the men in our lives do? They laugh.

That's right. LAUGH! Oh sure...it's funny now! But being locked in a room the size of a mini-fridge with another adult and ZERO circulation is NOT FUNNY at the time! And forgive me if I can't see the humor in a CRACKED FREAKIN' RIB!

...okay, well now I can see the humor but I can't laugh because it hurts. So I'll just blog.

SNL makes me giggle...

Both hilarious and scary all at once! Can't wait for Thursday's VP debate!



God help us all if they win!

Fergie Ferg goes Latin...

Long before she did a duet with Daddy Yankee little Fergie Ferg was hopping on the Latin Party Train while performing on Disney's fantastic late 80's hit, Kids' Incorporated. For those of you who didn't watch Kids' Incorporated...well, I'm just sorry that you lived such horribly sheltered lives. This was truly inspirational television and I believe it made me what I am today. Namely, an obsessive compulsive celeb-stalker with delusions of being discovered the next time I sing karaoke.

And here's a little snippet to give you the feel:



You're welcome.

Hey, ya'll it's me! Sarah Palin!

I have a very important lesson for you! Our next door neighbors are foreign countries. BIG ONES! No, for real! I even know which ones they are which, BTW, totally makes me THAT MUCH smarter than a certain president whose name rhymes with Tush.

OMG! I totally just said tush! HA HA HA HA! See? I'm just like YOU! I say TUSH and I laugh and I have pretty long hair and wear lipstick and drive my 3 kids...um, I mean, my FOUR kids to hockey practice and the ob/gyn! I'm just like YOU only I have WAY more foreign policy experience because Russia and Canada are my next door neighbors.


Watch CBS Videos Online

So what'd ya think, eh?

DWTS is back! Hooray!

I love Dancing With the Stars. I love it, I love it and I don't care who knows it. I've watched every season and each year I convince myself to take ballroom dance classes. The problem is that shortly thereafter I convince myself to drink wine and eat french fries and sit on my couch watching TiVo'd episodes of America's Next Top Model...and I'm afraid there just isn't enough Denise to go around.

I must say that I'm a bit disappointed by the cast this season. First of all, Kim Kardashian is so boring and not at all the salty little minx I had imagined. Homegirl has dead eyes and, if I'm being honest, seems dumber than a bag of hair. But that's neither here nor there.

Susan Lucci is annoying and way too breathy - sort of reminicent of the character of Mrs. White in the movie Clue. If you've been living under a rock for the past 20 years here's what I'm referring to:



Moving on. The 12 year old from Hannah Montana is...well, young, and I can't even bring myself to learn his name because - let's get real - he'll be delivering pizzas in a year.

Blah, blah, Misty May, blah, blah, Maurice Greene (who I must say, has some moves), blah, blah, Ted McGuinley, blah, blah, Rocco DiSpirito (who I'm slowly developing a crush on), blah, blah, Lance Bass...okay wait. I kind of love Lance Bass and his funky little dance partner.

But the real star...the real GEM in this competition is 82-year old Cloris Leachman. I can't tell whether she's just one hell of a comedian or whether she's one cha-cha away from hopping on the Dementia Express. But either way it makes for good television. In the past two days she's called Carianne Inaba a bitch twice, she's made Len Goodman ask her to remove her cleavage from his face...I mean, it's just priceless.

I can't find any online video of Cloris in action on DWTS but if this interview with Bonnie Hunt gives you any indication, she is a GOOD TIME.



If you're not watching, you really should be. And please do vote for Cloris - 'cause God knows the DWTS needs all the excitement it can get!

McCain is a big, fat liar.

Are you kidding me? Liar, liar pants on fire? Does he not read the news?

Lady, please. Solange Knowles needs to stop it.

Please, lady. You are a nobody and you should just be grateful that anyone wants to talk to you.

And though I'm usually not a fan of FOX anchors (damn right wing freakshows), I am LOVING the male anchor in this segment. (though if you read the comments below the video you'll note that not everyone agrees with me...crazy, I know)



Shut your pie hole, Solange.

Jonas Brothers are magic

I've said it before and I'll say it again. If I were a 15 year old girl I would be IN LOVE with The Jonas Brothers. All three of them. I'm a sucker for curls. And here's the thing: I never thought they were particularly talented but then last night happened and my thoughts were confirmed. Not only are they NOT particularly talented, but they are pretty awful, actually. (please don't miss, at around 2:08, the chubby teens practically trampling each other to get closer to the stage...yes, that would have been me 15 years ago)



The entire performance (especially the part where they "rock out, Disney style") I was having flashbacks of the episode of the Brady Bunch where Peter's voice starts cracking right before they're about to record that brilliant musical number, Time To Change.

You know what? It's been too damn long since I last heard that little diddy, so here it is, in all its glory. Try to tell me you're not itching to run out for a tambourine and a fringed leather daishiki?

I want to understand...

...but I SO don't. Last night I was watching the MTV Video Music Awards and I had one thought.

"Hot damn, I'm old."

I mean, I think I'm pretty hip, open minded and "with it" but I've gotta tell you, this new crop of artists is leaving me feeling a bit...em, confused.

Take Slip Knot for example:



Uh, WHAT? I can't even look at this picture without being a little afraid. Okay, a lot afraid. I understand the concept of musicians wearing costumes and ridiculous clothing - after all, I was (and still am) a big fan of hair rock bands and lord knows Twisted Sister ALONE could clean out the entire Bonnie Belle aisle at CVS. But there's a difference between wearing a little blush and Lip Smacker, and dressing like the Spawn of Satan. These guys look like they want to eat my kidneys (and your kidneys) and like they wouldn't think twice of killing bunnies and voting Republican. EVIL, I SAY.

Okay, I can't even look at this anymore because it's freaking me out. Let's move on to something else I can't understand:



Oh Lil' Wayne. What's with the teeth? And the forehead tattoo? And the fact that it seems you don't like wearing shirts or pants that fit when you perform? I don't understand anything about Lil Wayne but I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to. I'm not what we marketers call his "target demographic." Obviously his target demo is white men, ages 16-40, who grew up in the suburbs and have never actually BEEN to the inner city but have seen Boyz In Da Hood like TEN TIMES, DUDE. Men like Michael Phelps who says he listens to Lil' Wayne before a race. Oh really, Phelpsy? Do you feel you can relate to stuff like this:

Because the cops is watchin' the streets is talkin'
Ya hoes is unfaithful, ya family ungreatful
Ya ni**az aint loyal, you ni**az aint lawyers
And everybody saw you and ain't that a bitch!


I think not.

How about these guys? Tokio Hotel?




First of all, I hate HATE when people misspell things on purpose. Would it have hurt them to go with TokYo Hotel? Why Tokio? Is that supposed to be cute? (maybe I'm not as hip as I thought considering I've just turned into the Grammar Police) Second, I wonder how much Aqua Net was required to get that dude's hair to stick up like that? And also, I thought the goth look was out? Is this still considered the goth look? What IS this look? (other than horrible and slightly douchey looking, which is obvious.)

Sigh...

I'm so, SO confused.

Best. Ad. Ever.

Remember earlier in this blog when I said I'm not in the advertising business but if I was I wouldn't use eye patches in my commercials unless I was selling medical supplies and/or Halloween costumes?

Well here's the kind of ad I would make:



Hurry before "he change his miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind!"

Are you ready for some football?

I am not an advertising expert. I don't get paid to come up with clever and compelling copy that makes consumers run to their computers and retail outlets, credit cards in hand. But I think if I did get paid to come up with great ads, they probably wouldn't include pervasive eye handicaps.

Apparently the folks at the Oakland Raiders NFL franchise don't agree with my strategy:



I know that the Raider mascot is a tough dude sporting an eye patch...but how is a little old lady wearing an eye patch and telling me to "let it out" supposed to make me want to rush out to buy football tickets? The only thing it makes me want to buy is eye drops for Nana.

Maybe I'm just tired and cranky but I think tonight I'll be haunted by nightmares of my grandma Mima dressed up like a pirate, chasing me around an endless football field telling me - in a deep manly voiceover-voice - to let it out. Oh the horror.

Is Your Dog Bulemic?

I was in a cab, going from SFO Airport to my hotel (the lovely Hilton San Francisco) for yet another whirlwind 12-hour tour of a major U.S. city when I drove past the following sign:



I didn't even realize this was a possibility but SF, always ahead of the game when it comes to tree hugging and other social issues, seems to have pinpointed this potentially serious health concern that may or may not be plaguing the Bay Area. Perhaps Sarah Palin should bring this issue to the forefront by adding it to her Miss America...er, I mean Vice Presidential nominee platform?

Hen House Television

I know The View has a huge viewership and women love it and feel they can "relate" to the hosts. I get it. It's a money maker for ABC. Every time Whoopi says something controversial or Elizabeth cries it's all over the news and the interwebs. So clearly SOMEONE is watching.

I GET IT.

But I hate it. I can't stand the sound of a group of women talking over each other, jockeying for position, trying to out gab each other. To me - and I realize this statement will not be popular with the ladies - it sounds like hens in a hen house. (is someone going to revoke my feminist card now?)

The latest offender is the third (4th? 16th?) hour of the Today Show with Hoda Kotbe (who I really like) and Kathie Lee Gifford (who I despise with the heat of 10,000 suns).



Yes, yes...I get it. Women love Kathie Lee. She's probably boosting NBC's ratings by a million points...or 10 points? Or however those rating systems work. But come on, people. Kathie Lee just told Dr. Phil to speak into her "heaving bosom."

I can't. I just can't.

Blogging withdrawal

I used to have a blog. In it I made snarky and witty comments about celebrities and their failings, both as it relates to fashion and life. I gently suggested to Lindsay Lohan that tights do not count as pants unless you are an acrobat and/or Superman.



I maternally pointed out to Chloe Sevigny that dressing like my aunt Estella circa 1983 is neither clever, ironic or cool unless you're auditioning for an off-Broadway tribute to the Golden Girls. (which would be AWESOME, by the way. Get on it, Lloyd Webber.)



Yet for some reason when I moved from NYC to LA - a city that is home to enough celebricrap for all the bloggers in the world to stay very, very busy - I lost the urge to blog. It was just too easy. Like shooting very thin, very tan, very Botoxed fish in a barrel. Since I've lived here Nicole Richie has driven the wrong way on the 134 freeway, went to jail for 48 hours or so, had a baby and turned into quite a lovely young lady by all accounts. Stud-muffin Matthew McConaughey is now a daddy and hasn't lately been photographed wearing only a smile and a strategically placed bongo drum. Even Paris Hilton seems to be M.I.A., hawking shoes on billboards littering Sunset Boulevard and making somewhat clever political videos.

Perhaps we're all growing up. I mean I, for one, have bigger fish to fry these days. (I'm in Wedding Planning Purgatory and my fiancee and I have reached the poignant "my stuff is nicer than your stuff so get to Craigslist-ing" phase in our relationship. Thankfully he agrees and has been a good sport...except when it comes to the drawer of "commermorative t-shirts" but why split hairs?) The point is, I've got too much going on in my life these days to care about Lindsay Lohan's improper use of undergarments, or Chloe's misguided love of polyesther blends. And really, who am I to judge? These days my definition of "couture" is Banana Republic, and The Container Store has replaced Bloomingdales as my favorite store.

But fret not, dear readers. For there are plenty of interesting topics to blog about. I'm sitting in my hotel room in Chicago and watching Dr. Phil discuss Republican VP candidate Sarah Palin's 17-year old pregnant daughter who may or may not also be the real mother of Palin's youngest baby. (I'm fairly certain that was a plot on a recent episode of As The World Turns.) And New Kids On The Block will be performing on the Today Show tomorrow. (NKOTB! OMG!) And 90210 is back on the air only Jenny Garth is now the school counselor and the main stars are young enough to be my children. AND I just booked a hair stylist for my wedding! Em, okay so maybe that last point isn't as exciting as the first three.

The point is I'm back and better than ever, with 50% less sodium and 50% more sass!

K.I.T.!