Saturday, 20 October 2012

WINE, WOMEN & SONG. (I LIE . . . THERE WAS NO SONG)

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
Marie falls hard for a dark, mysterious foreigner. (Sadly, when she finds out the price, it's over.)
 

Friday night out with the girls. Velvety steaks,  wickedly funny women (one of whom has an entire wardrobe made of black lace, so that should tell you something), silky wine and gossip that gets raunchier with every glass. It's the most fun you can have with your clothes on. (Actually, it's pretty fun with your clothes off, too. . . . Er, or so I imagine.) This was me and two of my besties after work last night. As the evening wore on, it became easier and easier to make each other laugh. Like when I spotted the house wine cabinet, loaded with Chateauneuf du Pape, for example. Oh we roared like hyenas at that one. We thought that was just brilliant. "Hahaha, Marie you are so crazy!" Whereas I'm betting by tomorrow morning it will seem completely inane and each of us will say of the other, "Man, that chick is weird. Why do I even like her?" And then in two, maybe three weeks, we'll do it all again . . .

I TOTALLY LOVE THESE CRAZY BROADS!
And here we are, getting our picture taken by a complete stranger in the Keg's bathroom. Because that's what normal women do when they've had a few . . .


Friday, 19 October 2012

CAN'T TALK NOW, BUSY CHECKING MY BREASTS

'YOUR MAN REMINDER': A TOTALLY SEXIST DELICIOUS EYE-CANDY 
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
(We need a lot more of these, in my opinion.)
 
Like most women, I am not a breast checker. I can't tell you the last time I checked my breasts for lumps (although that's not what I tell my doctor. "Last week, I think," is what I tell her, but in my mind I'm thinking, "That is YOUR job, sistah!"). To me, doing a breast exam is about as appealing as a plate of tofu: I don't care if it's good for me, it's gross and I'm not touching it. But the wily folks at Toronto's ReThink Breast Cancer charity just may change that. They've released a smart, sexy phone app featuring hot young men ripping their shirts off to reveal logic-defying abs, pecs, flex, sex and every other muscle you can think of, pumping iron, staring lewdly into the lens, calling us "baby" and urging us to have a go at our boobs. Whew.

So far I've watched it 377 times, and let me tell you, this is the most fun I've had on a Thursday night in quite some time. 
It still isn't going to make me check my breasts . . . for that, these dudes would have to come to my home and ask me in person, and even then I'd say, "Hey, you know what would be even better would be if you did it for me! Thoroughly. And repetitively. Because obviously, my very health is at stake" . . .  but in the meantime, I am doing a lot of THINKING about breast self-examination. So that's a start.

I'm sure that somebody will complain that this video is sexist. But if they're stupid enough to go public with that, someone (Leon, perhaps, shown above) will be swiftly dispatched to anally force-feed them some prunes so they can loosen the hell up. In the meantime, have a look at the video. If there were an Oscar for hottest public service announcement, this bitch would win hands-down. Er, up. Click on Your Man Reminder. 

Editor's note: You know, if the federal government applied this sort of marketing wizardry to income tax returns, no one would EVER file late. Some might even file multiple times.
My note: Well I know I would.

 

Wednesday, 17 October 2012

SINGER GOES FROM PINK TO SIZZLING RED-HOT

You could airbrush my entire body for two whole days
  and I still would not look like this. Way to go, Pink.

OK, ready? Who wants to feel like crap about their body and berate themselves about what they ate today? Whoooo, look at all those chubby little hands! Yes, thanks to the sick bastards at Shape magazine, we have this hot November cover shot of scantily clad Pink, looking like she's about to enter American Gladiators. Behold the chiseled abs, the taut belly, the toned thighs. 

Do you hate yourself enough yet? No? Well how 'bout this: she's also a new mom who "ate a lot of cheesecake during those nine months." She subsequently dropped 55 pounds by working out twice a day with two personal trainers and probably not eating any cheesecake at all. 

And if she can do it, this girl who used to sing about breakups and bar fights and getting really, really drunk, then the rest of us have no excuse. Girlfriend not only turned into a supermodel, but she took away our excuses!  Tsk. Pink, what have you DONE!?!

Editor's note: So would this be a bad time to say I think she's cute?
My note: Yes.

MEET THE HAIRY NEW FACE OF CHANEL NO. $7M

THE NEW FACE OF CHANEL
(And for $7 million, surely that face 
could have shaved?)  
Paul Smith/Featureflash  
You know how sometimes something is so friggin' stupid it's brilliant? That may be what's going on with Chanel No. 5's nonsensical new ad, in which a faded Brad Pitt delivers an existential monologue that makes him sound senile. Because even though it is completely, stunningly, mind-bogglingly goddawful, EVERYBODY is talking about it. So maybe it's brilliant. But then again, maybe it's just friggin stupid. 

Brad was paid $7 million to star in this commercial. And I realize the man has six kids to feed, but my God, you could save an awful lot of Cambodian orphans with that kind of money. (P.S. Chanel? For $7 million, you could have got Ryan Gosling. Who, in case you didn't know, is the new Brad Pitt. Brad Pitt is now the old Brad Pitt. I know. It sucks, but that's the way it goes.)

If you haven't seen this ad, you really must. I'm including a link so that you can see it and be as gobsmacked by its shittiness as I was. These things are best enjoyed with others. Click on Chanel, WTF? and then tell me, what do you think? Brilliant, stupid, or both?

Editor's note: Hello, Coco? You need to come back from the dead and save your company. 

AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO LONGS TO KICK THIS WOMAN?

'OY VEY! I KNOW I'M BEING SHMALTZY  
BUT I JUST CAN'T HELP IT!'
Because this wonderful guy, this total mensch, 
has proposed! I am no longer a shlimazel! And  
I don't know why I'm suddenly speaking Yiddish 
but I do know that I am finally SHIDDUCH!

Photo: CreStock

 
There's always been a certain something about Jennifer Aniston I couldn't quite put my finger on. Every now and then, when she wasn't boring me into a coma by playing the same role over and over again in boring movies, I would try to figure it out. And last night, I finally did it. And it turns out I've been overthinking it, because it's really very simple: She's annoying.

I mean, there she was on Chelsea Lately last night, with her swishy hair and her tan and her button-nose that she SIMPLY CANNOT stop wrinkling in a way that was probably cute when she was 7, wearing a top that, oops, she didn't even realize was TOTALLY SHOWING HER NIPPLES!!! and talking about boring stuff that's so boring I can't even remember what it was.

And then Chelsea asks her about the guy who finally proposed. Because God knows JenJen has been husband-hunting since forever, certainly since Brad left her for Angie and then crowed about how boring being married to her was. (Which, even by my standards, was cruel.) But it didn't happen with Vince Vaughn. Or Paul Sculfor, or John Mayer, or Gerard Butler, until finally the whole world was like, "Oh, lord, please, will someone just marry this poor lonely woman and give her womb something to do?"

And then at last, Justin Theroux stepped up and put a ring on it. Fine, great, wonderful; now Jen can relax and we can all get on with our lives, right? But what does Jen do when Chelsea asks her about the blessed event? She can't just giggle and say, "Yes, I'm engaged," like a normal 43-year-old would. No, she chokes up and starts waving her hands and involuntarily speaking Yiddish.
"I just got verklempt!" she gasps, tears welling in her eyes while the audience (well, me, anyway) looks on in horror.
Geez Louise. It's no wonder this woman has a hard time getting guys to commit. I mean, come on, Jen. Nobody likes an overly grateful crier.

Editor's note: "Verklempt: To be overcome with emotion." Gross! This makes me very happy I never proposed to anyone.
My note: You're not the only one who's happy about that.
Editor's note: Whatever, Miss Thrice-divorced. 
My note: Heheheh. We'll continue this little chat offline. Right after I fire you . . . 

Tuesday, 16 October 2012

RIHANNA PROTECTED BY THE CLOAK OF JAY-Z-IBILITY


Rihanna, looking dull and unattractive as usual, 
on the cover of Vogue's November issue.











The first thing I thought when I heard Rihanna and Chris Brown were back together was, "But what if he hits her again?" Actually, no, that's wrong. The first thing I thought was, "Thank God I won't have to hear any more stories about them sneaking off to have sex in a public bathroom," because THAT made me have "holding" issues for a week.

But the hitting is definitely a more pressing concern. Because beaters tend to be repeat offenders, and love doesn't have much to do with it. This thought apparently also occurred to Rihanna's mentor, Jay-Z. He reportedly pulled Chris aside at one of his concerts last week and told him, "If you ever hurt Rihanna emotionally or physically again I will see to it that your career is over." And trust me, Jigga has that kind of power in the music industry. 

So that just gave Rihanna the best protection she could ever ask for. Maybe even too much protection. Because from now on, Chris is going to be shadowing her everywhere she goes, yelping, "Ack! Watch out for that door! Look out! Don't bump your shin on that end table! OMIGOD is that a bruise? Where did you get that? Are you trying to get me KILLED????"

I BELIEVE THIS IS KNOWN AS MANNA FROM HEAVEN


A tractor-trailer carrying pizza broke down right in front of my house this afternoon. Which, naturally, I took as a direct sign from God that I was meant to get free pizza today. So I went out to check up on the pizza driver, and here's how the conversation went:

Me: Hello my good man, I see you've broken down.
Him: Yes.

Me: Can I help you?
Him: Sure. Can I use your phone?

Me: No, I meant, can I help you by taking some of that pizza?
Him: No, you can help me by letting me use your phone.

Me: How 'bout I help you by taking a photo of your broken-down truck?
Him: How 'bout you help me by letting me use your phone?

Me: How 'bout I help you by writing a blog about your broken-down truck and how you gave me some free pizza? 
Him: Lady, I can't give you any pizza. It's company property.

Me: Well how would they know unless you told them?
Him: It's not even that good. It's frozen, factory-made pizza.

Me: I LOVE frozen, factory-made pizza! 
Him: Just let me use your . . .

Me: It'd be our little secret!  
Him: Look, lady, you're not getting any goddam pizza!

Me: You sure about that? Cuz I've got this android phone ... see? right here! ... that I could let you use. IF you play nice.
Him: What are you, nuts? 

Me: So, no pizza?
Him: No pizza. Either let me use your phone or get away from me, you weirdo. 

Me: *shrugs* You're on your own, bud.

And here's how the conversation really went:

Me: You okay over there?
Him: Yeah, just a little engine trouble. Help is on the way.
Me: *sighs* Okay. Bye.

WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT MENTION THE SEX TAPE!

I AM SERIOUSLY VEXED ABOUT THAT SEX TAPE
You know the one. The one of me, obviously still 
a studly stud-muffin, having it off with my  
best bud's wife? You must have heard about it! 
I'm very, very upset about it. I do NOT want you to
 even mention it. Oh, btw, this here is my now 
ex-wife Linda. I was still married to her at 
the time of the sex tape that I DO NOT 
WANT ANYONE TO KNOW ABOUT!!!
Photo/CreStock
In an increasingly desperate bid to draw attention to the leaked sex tape nobody wants to see, Hulk Hogan is launching a whopping lawsuit against the key offenders. Oblivious to the irony, he's casting himself as the victim in this sordid affair, insisting his privacy was breached by the filming of his grotesque geezer romp. (Apparently his high moral standards kicked in AFTER he had sex with his best friend's wife.)  
Frankly, I think we'd all be happy to pretend it never happened if he'd just shut up and let us forget about it. But the man hasn't stopped yammering about the "shocking tape" since it was shockingly leaked. He is determined to let everyone know about this tape that he doesn't want anyone to know about. 

And just when the whole mess looked like it was finally going to crawl off and die, he gives it another goose by suing Gawker website and Bubba the Love Sponge, husband of the skank who plays his love interest in the sex tape.  
Hulk is suing for the absurd sum of $100 milllion. Which, coincidentally, is exactly the amount I'd be willing to pay him to JUST STOP TALKING ABOUT IT.

Editor's note: For once, I agree with you. I mean, really. There are some people you don't ever want to imagine with their clothes off, let alone having . . . you know. And for me, Hulk Hogan is No. 4 on that list, surpassed only by Phil Spector, Donatella Versace and Octomom. 

Monday, 15 October 2012

WELCOME TO THE LITTLE PHOTOSHOP OF HORRORS

MARIAH, HOW CAN WE TELL IF WE'RE LOOKING 
AT AN AIRBRUSHED PHOTO OR A REAL ONE?
"That's easy! The bits of gold and diamond that 
my skin is made of twinkle a little more brightly
 in the airbrushed photos."
Photo: CreStock
Well this is a relief. Now I can officially stop trying to look as good at 52 as Madonna does at 54, because not even Madonna looks as good as Madonna does at 54. Perhaps I should explain, because that made me sound crazy. What I meant was, I stumbled across a website called Styleblazer today, and the first thing I read was 14 of the Most Airbrushed Celebrity Pics. And if you're looking for a pick-me-up on an "I'm feeling ugly" day, that's almost as good as Bad Plastic Surgery Pics
So if you're feeling ugly, or even if you're feeling pretty but want a cheap thrill on a Monday afternoon, click on the names below and enjoy the instant rush of schadenfreude. 

Airbrushed Madonna: 
Sweet mother of God! Why, she looks 54! Which she is. And also incredibly, impossibly fit, rich and dating a 24-year-old. Bitch.

Airbrushed Mariah: I love that Mariah is at the beach in heels ... and carrying a glass of wine. That is my kinda girl!  
Airbrushed Fergie: The term Fergalicious was apparently coined AFTER the airbrushing.
Airbrushed Faith Hill: A particularly emboldened airbrusher shaved enough fat off one of Faith's arms to give her an entire second arm in the "after" picture. I wonder if they could do that with belly fat and breasts. It's not for me. It's for a friend . . . 

Sunday, 14 October 2012

TWO THINGS LAGERFELD HATES: FATTIES AND THINKING

Karl Lagerfeld: Omigod! Is that Adele? 
 She is fatter than ever! She must be 
eating crisps at every meal! She . . .   
Handler: Pssst, Karl. She's pregnant! 
 Karl: Oh. Well, I hope she 
doesn't have a fat baby.
Photo: ImageCollect/CreStock




Creepy Chanel draugr Karl Lagerfeld slipped past his handlers again and appeared on Britain's Channel 4, where he proceeded to offend almost everyone who doesn't have an eating disorder. Having learned absolutely nothing from the outrage his comments about British singer Adele being "a little too fat" sparked, the 79-year-old reiterated his theory that models should be skinny and so should everyone else. 

Because according to Karl, there are only two kinds of women: pretty, skinny women and "fat mummies." And you don't want to be one of those, because as Karl will tell you, fat mummies are boring lardasses who do nothing but sit around "with their bags of crisps in front of the television, saying that thin models are ugly."
Here's an actual snippet from the interview: 

Reporter: “You think it’ll be OK for women to be fat in the future?” 
Lagerfeld: “Unfortunately, yes.” 
Reporter: “But not OK now?"  
Lagerfeld: "No."

Fashion is all about "dreams and illusions," he said. "And no one wants to see round women." 
Yes, well you know what else no one wants, Karl? Advice from the undead. Now off you go, before I open this JUMBO-SIZED BAG OF CRISPS and start eating it right in front of you! 
Lagerfeld: No-o-o-o! Aayyyyyyeeeeeeeeek!