vivalashameless

2007-02-21T13:06:00.000-08:00

LIKE A PHOENIX RISING FROM THE ASHES....

Viva returns, if only to say thank you for continually checking the site to see if I am alive or dead. I check my little site counter and am amazed to see that you people still come here. That's love, folks. And Viva loves to feel the love. I am truly grateful.

I am very much alive and, if not kicking, then digging myself out from under 2 feet of snow and enough personal drama to make a grown woman reach for Xanax with a tequila chaser. He he.... Sure, Viva loves her angst, but there comes a point where my inner Joan of Arc is even like "I am sick of this shit!" And Joanie, God love her, had way more to complain about, being burned at the stake and all, but I sort of feel her "roasted like a pig on a spit" pain, if only psychologically--but considering Joan had to contend with the real deal, we'll let her be the martyr here. Oh heck, let me martyr my bad self out, just for a moment of shits and giggles. Recently, Viva here has muddled through a crapload of crappity-crappy things like death, legal wranglings, family drama, more family drama, a side of family drama, massive disappointment, and unwarranted judgment from repressed people who need a vibrator even more than she does (and that is saying something). My life, it seems, was like a bad Linda Rondstadt song.

But that which does not kill you makes you a tough old broad, and Viva prefers "better" to "bitter" these days, so rather than dwell on the bad, or even the "common" (my new favorite term to describe those who vex me), I'd rather leap headfirst back into the fabulous and celebrate all that which makes me joyous these days, such as (in no particular order):

My fabulous, wonderful, supportive friends who are my true family, sing "Jump" by Madonna to me for inspiration, and love and encourage me to be more of who I am, not what I am allegedly supposed to be (fuck that "supposed to be" stuff, anyway)--I don't know what I did to deserve such a great gang, but I'm so glad we all worked so hard to have our get-togethers and stay close all these years. You should all be submitting therapy bills. I'd be lost without you;

Madonna herself for providing Viva with her new life mantra''"WWMD?--WHAT WOULD MADONNA DO?" I am telling you, repeating this to yourself when confronted with a difficult situation can really change a girl's life. Bless you Madge, and your leotards, which you make look hot even when you are pushing 50.

My dog Cooper, my little man, who makes me laugh with every silly thing he does, and reminds me how precious unconditional love really is. And coats every surface with thousands of little blond hairs. But I don't care because he's the best, most loyal and loving man out there. I want to be just like him when I grow up (well, in female, human form).

My Mom and Dad--although both are no longer in this physical plane and are "pushing up the daisies" as my old man would say, I still feel them hanging around and rooting for me in spite of all my dysfunction. I thank dad for my warped sense of humor, general good nature, and for giving me the most kick ass male role model ever--he and my mom had a real partnership, filled with mutual respect. There will never be another like my old man. And my gorgeous mother--a theatrical hairstylist, ardent student of Jungian psychology, and master astrologer (what other mother would pull out the I Ching when I had a question about a boy I liked?). She made me quirky, independent, and filled me with Madonna-like catch phrases in between running a house, volunteering at my grammar school and getting nominated for EMMYs. Some gems of Mom's include:

"Be an innovator, not an imitator,"

"In order to succeed, you must desire, and that desire must shorten your sleep,"

"Be a lady and mind yourself (okay I suck at this one),

and Viva's personal favorite: "I am not teaching you how to clean or cook, because I do not want you to be a slave to a man; I want you to be a princess and remember, don't get married until you are at least 40."

God I miss ya, mom! I can't bake for shit, and at best I am an domestically indifferent, but goddamn if all your advice over the years wasn't spot-on. I am thrilled to be your progeny and carry on your good lucks (albeit with thin lips, but that is why God made Restylane) and delightfully different outlook on life. While other mothers sat at soccer games, mine brought me onto movie sets (of course, under the threat of death if I were to act up, which I never did because, dude, I was on a movie yet--yippee!); when Mom was on location for months at a time, Dad took the reins at home, and instilled in me a love of Hormel Chili, Dinty Moore stew, and Stephen King movies .... so many great memories. You fun dead people totally rock, and I love you dearly. Thanks for the DNA.

Scranton, PA: I see glimpses of Scranton during the beginning of "The Office" and still get misty. This is where the madness, the pyramids, the murder-scene bathrooms, all began. It is also the home of Zorba cheese fries, without which, I'd be 20 pounds lighter. Scranton will always be our touchstone. Long may the Electric City reign.

My House: I love my house; it's comfy, cozy, and filled with all the furniture I inherited from the folks, along with every thrift store treasure I could dig up on the East Coast. It keeps me warm and grounded, safe and secure, gives Cooper a place to run around and, as of late, has been the site of wonderful dinner parties with my closest and dearest--why spend money and go out when you can stay in and be comfy? Viva loves having the family over, even if its for pizza, wine, and Sex in the City! I even learned how to use a snowthrower and make a real fire in the fireplace. Next up, the lawnmover, maybe I will chop my OWN firewood. Okay, that's taking it too far. But YAY!!!

Britney Spears: Because hey, as horrible and miserable as my life might get, I will never be so screwed up as to shave my fucking head. I mean, come on now. She's bringing CrazyBack and not in a good way. I mean, divorce happens Brit, and it sucks but you're a mega-millionaire and 24--AND you popped out two kids. Pull it together already and put on some underwear. She makes me look sane and well-reasoned by comparison. God bless the Britster.

Me: Yes me. Oh why the hell not? Crappy times can really test a person and show them what they are made of; sometimes you can't control the crap or how or why crap happens, but you CAN control how you react to the crap, how you grow from the crap, and how this crap makes you realize that you are a pretty cool person in spite of, well, the crap. And you realize how piles of said crap can give you choices--the high road or the low road or even, the road everyone takes or the road less traveled.... Thus far, I have taken the high road in my recent angstfest, and am happy about that--there can be respect and trust even amidst the crap. And for the future, Viva is gearing up for the road less traveled because, well, she lives for that shit. Why be normal when you can be freakishly wacky and fun? So, check in for more celebrity updates and commentaries, the triumphant return of "People Who Annoy the Living Crap Out of Me," "[Insert Celebrity Name Here] or My Vibrator?," various stories about the inane situations I often find myself in, and, why I am going to buy the new "Hair Do" hair extension system in spite of my rampant hatred of Jessica Simpson (and her little queen, Ken Paves, although I am jealous because she has him and I don't). I know, I am crossing to the Dark Side and cannot be stopped. This is, like, sacrilege. But honestly, the hair totally makes a normal woman look like a wanton she-devil. All for $90, but there's supposed a place out on Long Island where you can get the extensions for half price. LOVES IT!!!!

In the meantime, though, some culture for you folks, because this is a heartfelt post, in spite of all the "fuck"s and "shit"s and vibrator mentions:

The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveller, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

2007-01-05T09:29:00.000-08:00

"SAY GOODNIGHT, GRACIE..."

Sometime, in every woman's life, there comes a period wherein life is so spectacularly unfunny that it is hard to blog about celebrity crotches, beloved vibrators, and thigh-high boots. For me, that time has come--in spades.

Your pal Viva is having a rough time of it, and churning out the sarcasm isn't as easy as it used to be. In short, I need a break. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but my own narcissistic penchant for attention shouldn't keep me away too long.

In the meantime, be good to yourselves.

Peace.

2007-01-02T20:35:00.000-08:00

HOLIDAY JOY IN ROCHESTER

Viva has returned from her holiday sojourn in Rochester, and is quite honestly, tired as all hell, as is her trusty companion Cooper, who is still bleary-eyed from his doggie-downer pills and contentedly lapping at a new meaty bone I finally got around to giving him. Considering the angst that is my life, I decided I owed myself a little bleary time too, and what better avenue to Blearyville than wine and Xanax? Admit it, people you're jealous! I've never been one for the psychotropics, but if you're having a true Calgon moment, and don't have the Calgon, Xanax is a pretty nice alternative (I swiped mine from a dear friend with a stash--shhh!)--except for the bumping into walls and all. I feel so "Desperate Housewives!" But I digress....

To all the people who missed me and bitched about the lack of posts, thanks for the pestering e-mails. I live for love, ya know? I'm actually still swamped with work, thank God, but will try to throw up a few posts imminently for your amusement. Expect an update on the Holiday Extravaganza, including "Viva Gets a Bikini Wax From a Pre-Teen With Poor Eyesight and Other Tales of Vaginal Angst," "Everything I Need to Know About Dating, I Learned From My Dog (Or Why I Would Make a Crappy Slutty Person)," "If You Fill Them, They Will Come (The Damsel In Distress Story)," "The Best New Appetizer Ever (well, two of them, and you get both recipes, so be excited)," and "How A Pair of Black Thigh-High Boots Saved Christmas (well, actually, New Years, but Christmas sounded better). And there'll be some celebrity posting too--what did I miss? Britney Spears passing out at a New Year's Party? Shocking! Yawn. Next!

Once I stop seeing double and obsessing over crap I have no business obsessing over, I'll get back to business as usual. In the meantime, the dog and I are going to stagger up to bed and try to find a rerun of the Golden Girls..... I need a little wisdom from Dorothy Spornak, God love her....

2006-12-21T10:44:00.000-08:00

Christmas with the Lohans

Normally I never blog about Paris, Lindsay, Nicole et al. because, well, they're morons and I hate them.

But this Christmas story, courtesy of Perez Hilton, warms the cockles of my heart.

What's a cockle anyway?

Enjoy!

2006-12-13T09:20:00.000-08:00

"HOLY CRAP!!!!"--RIP PETER BOYLE: 1935-2006

I just read that one of my favorite actors of all time, Peter Boyle, has passed away at the age of 71. Your friend Viva here is a sentimental mess about stuff like this, and had herself a good cry over his loss. Young Frankenstein is one of my favorite movies ever (I do a poor imitation of his and Gene Wilder's performance of "Putting on the Ritz" which has to be one of the greatest scenes of all time), and I've seen every episode of Everybody Loves Raymond at least three times over... Peter, as Frank Barone, reminded me a lot of my old man: cranky, irascible, and loveable--and always there for his family. Maybe that's why the waterworks came when I read about his passing? Regardless, he'll certainly be missed in Hollywood--there's not many like him, nowadays.

He is survived by his wife and two daughters.

Sniffle.

2006-12-06T07:30:00.000-08:00

BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND WANT YOU TO BE DRUNK AND HAPPY

I am besieged with work (which I should enjoy while I have it), so posts have been short. But, I promised you a hot mulled wine recipe and reasons why I love Clerks and Clerks II, and you shall have both (in abridged format).

First, the wine:

Magically Delicious Hot Mulled Wine (courtesy of Mary Tee, friend of Viva)

You will need:

1 bottle Burgundy wine (not the huge bottles, the normal sized ones--you can go super-cheap on the wine too, since you are mulling it anyway--my choice was a bottle of Gallo--$4.99! Whoo hoo!)
1 bottle of White Zinfandel (you remember the wine of your youth, right? I drank more of this crap than I care to remember, and am surprised there is still a market for it, but there is. I went with a bottle of Sutter Home White Zin, which was on sale for $5.99)
Mulling spices--you can buy these right now at your local supermarkets (since it is the holidays and all) so go and STOCK UP big time. I bought a generic bag of mulling spices for $1.99)
1 cup brown sugar
1 package of cheesecloth
1 crock pot

1. Come home, turn on crockpot to low or high (depending on how much time you have). Open bottles of wine; pour into crockpot--let wine warm up a bit before adding brown sugar and mulling spices, which should be wrapped in cheesecloth (my mulling spices instructed me to put in 3 tablespoons of mulling spices for two bottles of wine, so I did).

2. Wait impatiently while everything, uh, mulls. I had my crockpot set to high, because I have no patience and in 2-3 hours, the wine was ready and AWESOME if I do say so myself. Wait as long as you can, but if you dive in early, don't hate yourself. It happens.

3. Add a cinnamon stick if you want it to look pretty (I didn't)

4. Rent cheesy funny movies and laugh indiscriminantly.

The best part about mulled wine is that if you don't drink all of it in one night, you can reheat it the next day, with the same mulling spices. More bang for your buck! It also makes a festive (and cheap) holiday party drink, and it will get you where you want (or, in my case, need) to go. YAY MULLED WINE!

Now, for Clerks and Clerks II

I am beginning to think that, although I am very much a woman, when it comes to movies, I have penis-like tastes in humor. Ferrell, Sandler, Stiller, Wilson, Vaughn, Favreau, Smith, Cohen? Love them all. Love all their sidekicks too. I have no idea why. I know I should be much more enthralled by movies like "The Notebook" or "The Bridges of Madison County," but since my life plays out more along the lines of Ron Burgundy than Francesca Johnson (at least I hope it does), I'd rather stay sexy, than chase around Clint Eastwood in a pick up truck. Have you seen that man's varicose veins? But I digress.

Anyhow, why I love Kevin Smith movies. Because they are so gross, but loveable. Just like Jay and Silent Bob. Disgusting, but strangely cool. I actually have a hard time picking my favorite Kevin Smith movie--Chasing Amy was good, but I have a special place in my heart for Dogma and Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back--am I the only female who thinks that "Boo Boo Kitty Fuck" is a genuine term of affection? Might be. I loved Clerks II for three reasons: Donkey Show, Pillow Pants, A** to Mouth. All completely offensive, but yet will make you cackle like a hyena. Also Trevor Fehrman, the guy who plays Elias, killed me, with his whole "God made man, Man made Transformers" speech. I loved him. Also not to be missed, Jay's and Silent Bob's reenactment of "Silence of the Lambs." It honestly does not get any better. Especially with hot mulled wine!

So make some wine, rent some flicks, and have yourself a merry little Gross Out Fest. Consider it my Christmas present to you.

2006-12-05T07:55:00.000-08:00

COMING UP LATER......

A great recipe for Hot Mulled Wine, which is flipping AWESOME (Viva friend Mary Tee gave me the recipe, and all you hot folks get it next), and why I love Clerks and Clerks II.

In fact, I suggest combining both Hot Mulled Wine and a Clerks marathon for a truly ridiculous evening. Even PillowPants would approve.

More later; for now, work (bastards).

2006-12-01T09:34:00.000-08:00

VIVA'S PICTURES OF THE INFAMOUS "DURAN DURAN ENCOUNTER"

They were a long time coming, but oh so very worth it. As friends of mine know, I will forever have a chunk of 13-year-old Durannie wedged in my heart. I, along with Viva friends Jen and Christine recently saw Duran Duran in our neck of the woods, and was fortunate enough to follow the sage advice of Christine who suggested after the show that we "hang out by the side door and see if the band comes out!" YAY CHRISTINE!!!! It's funny to see a bunch of thirtysomething women jockey for the best spot to reach the band. You know that your old whorish friend here was RIGHT at the front of the pack. I would not be dissuaded, dammit!

First, a picture from the show itself. They really put on some concert--I danced like a moron, and am proud of it. Don't they look festive? Well you can't really see them but, you get the idea:

Next we have Nick, who came out first. Nick Rhodes has been buffed to a high sheen, and has nary a wrinkle on his face. Is it Lancome? Is it sandblasting? I should ask him.

Here's our friend Roger who, in Viva's opinion, looks the hottest out of ALL of them. Viva's advice--always hit up the drummer. They have the rythym!!!! He's not as tall as I expected, but as a short girl myself, this just ensures a better fit, should we ever meet again, fall in love, have little Durans, buy a house in the French Countryside..... that sort of thing.

Finally, here is Simon, who is looks pretty darn good for being the oldest of the bunch (Viva suspects a face life and Botox, but one can never be sure). Word on the street is that Simon is a dog who cheats on his wife of 20 years (the very hot Yasmin LeBon), but he seemed very polite and well behaved when we met him, so who knows? Maybe he got laid BEFORE the show?

And here is stupid John Taylor. You might be wondering if I took this picture. I didn't. John, wuss that he is, ran off to the tour bus, giving the fans only an over-the-shoulder wave. Um, hello, it's not 1985 anymore and this isn't Madison Square Garden there, Skeletor. You should be happy to still have fans. Whatever, John! I am over you. Some women love men who treat them like shit, but Viva isn't one of them. I will pine for the short but rythymic Roger now--screw you! Wow, I am on a roll, how else can I slag him? Hmmm. Okay, you look like the Cryptkeeper anyway! Calcium, it's what's for dinner. Food is for dinner too--John may want to try that sometime. Who likes throwing around an anorexic man? Yuck. Bastards.

The show was awesome and meeting them was pretty darn cool, even in spite of JT's brush-off. If you need an 80s fix and like men in make-up, definitely check out one of their shows. And hang out by the side door afterwards. And grope Roger for me, if you get the chance--thanks!

2006-11-29T15:09:00.000-08:00

YOU CAN NEVER GO HOME AGAIN.....

I know I am supposed to be blogging about my Rochester Exploits, and perhaps all those pictures of Britney Spears' Unfortunate Vagina (she's a shaver, with the stubble to prove it), and trust me I will, but today I am going to bore you with my own personal angst.

Basically, it looks as if we have finally found a buyer for my parents' home, which I own with my sister, and due to the fact that my parents had the sense to migrate from the South Bronx to the suburbs of NYC, I am going to make myself a nice chunk of change. I should be happy about this, right? One would think. But I wouldn't be me if I wasn't pissy about something.

I am happy to be free of the financial burden of keeping a second house, happy that, in a few short weeks, I will no longer have any financial ties to my, uh, interesting, sister, happy to pay off that nagging Am Ex card I abuse...

But I miss my mom and dad. And selling off the house is the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. Viva here bounced around more in her 20s and early 30s than I can remember--this apartment, that apartment, this boyfriend, that boyfriend. But whenever things got hairy (and with my penchant for drama, they often did), there was always home to go to. So it sucks to see your history be sold to the highest bidder. I guarantee you I will bawl through the closing, bawl as they write me that big fat check, and bawl when I see the moving vans pull up to the house. Yeah, money is great, but she ain't everything.

I am grateful though, to have the awesome parents that I have, who busted their asses so that we idiot children of theirs would be taken care of. Wherever you are, Mom and Dad, thanks.

I know I am going to get emails about this post being a bummer, but you can always expect some sort of random cheerfulness from your old friend. So here, in no particular order, are some of the things I plan to do with my financial windfall--why squirrel it away when I can spend with abandon? So I am thinking:

1. Pottery Barn. All of it. Everything. Whatever they have, I want.
2. Enough plastic surgery to turn me into Rachel McAdams but not so much as to morph me into Jocelyn Wildenstein)--nip it, tuck it, pull it up, under, over, or suck it out. Give me the works!
3. A hitman to kill Jessica and Ashlee Simpson since they both annoy the crap out of me. Talentless hacks.
4. A Full-Time Personal Trainer from Fitness Together, who can whip my ass into shape. Or just stand there and flex for my amusement. Whatever. I am game!
5. Back to Ireland, this time with all the Scranton gang, because we would really have The Best Time Ever--there are no people more fun than the Irish!
6. A doggy hypnotherapist to delve into why my dog hates cars, baths, and basically everything I want him to do.
7. Booze and hookers!
8. That new Playstation 3, just cause I can.
9. A studio apartment in NYC--some people get mountain homes, or shore houses--give me a crash pad in the big city, and I am happy. I miss Brother Jimmys. Fishbowls for everyone!
10. Building the new Melrose Place, wherein all the Scranton Girls and Gays can have houses side by side, drink too much wine, and grow old together like the Golden Girls.

Okay, I am kidding, I am not going to do any of these things (although the hitman idea intrigues me). Chances are, it will all go into some dippy retirement fund, so I can rest assured that someday I can pay someone to change my diapers and puree my food for me while I chew on a sock.

But, if you see me in the upcoming months and I can no longer move my face, the plastic surgeon thing might have happened. Even if I can't smile, know I am happy to see you!

2006-11-28T07:05:00.000-08:00

THE LOVE STORY THAT WAS PAM AND KID ROCK...

Everyone knows by now that Pam and Kid Rock are overoverover, after a scant 3 months of marriage, but apparently a screening of Borat was the reason for the pair splitting up? According to the New York Post, Pam and Kid went to a screening of the movie (the premise of which includes Borat coming to America to meet and marry Pamela Anderson), and Kid hated the movie and called Pam a "slut" and a laughingstock and whatnot for being in it in the first place. Pammy was one of the few people IN on the joke, and Jesus, Borat is kicking ass in the theaters. Kid Rock should be thrilled (think of all the wife beater t-shirts he can buy with her money), but instead, he trashes her. Ain't that nice?

I am not saying Pamela Anderson isn't a slut. She very well may be. She's sort of made a big career of it (well, that and her boobs). But, um, wasn't Kid Rock AWARE of said sluttiness BEFORE he married her? Wasn't the fact that she was a Big Blond Tramp the very thing that attracted him to her in the first place? HELLO!!!!! This seems to be one of those Man Issues I don't get: the very things that makes a girl attractive to a guy when they first meet are usually the things that guys end up hating in the long run. Can someone explain this? Men complain that women "change" after they get married; women complain that men don't change. General grumpiness, resentment, and a Siberian Sex Life usually ensues until the lawyers are summoned. It ain't pretty, people. I am sure Pam will sit for an interview with Cosmo about why she always picks men with "anger issues." We women never learn, that's why.

Viva actually went to a Kid Rock show back in her NYC days (hey, the tickets were free), and he was surprisingly good in concert. Maybe Kid should stick to the stage instead of the altar, eh? At least they have the memories of their 5 weddings (all booze-soaked and bikini-laden) to keep them warm over the holidays. Maybe there's a sex tape to look forward to????? Yeesh.

2006-11-27T17:09:00.000-08:00

SHUFFLING OFF TO BUFFALO

Well, not quite. I took a last-minute trip to the fun city of Rochester, NY this past weekend with my niece to see my dear friend Jill, and am still too traumatized from Wegmans Withdrawal to type about all the fun we had. Hot Roch-cha-cha memories to be discussed include "The Dirty Hateful Hippie," "Risking Our Lives for the Madonna Mix at The Garage Door," "Southern Comfort is the Devil (aka, "No potato is ugly at 2 a.m.)," "Naked Bike Rides and Misspent Youth," "My Niece, the Happy Trisexual," "Callie, My Hot Blonde Bedmate," "Family Brunches and Dirty Jokes (Why The Cahills Rock)," "Sucking at Both Scrabble AND Scene It," "Hot Tubs are Beyond Awesome" and "The Longest Bus Ride Ever." I'll have a full update tomorrow, but for now I want to sulk and click on the Wegman's website until my fingers bleed.

Wegmans, for the uninitiated, is like, the Best Grocery Store Ever. It's not even a grocery store. It's like Disneyland for food. People walk around all happy, and they should be. I mean, the bakery alone could bring tears to a PMSing woman's heart. There is NOTHING like this in my neck of the Great White North. Nothing like this in the burbs of NYC either. People, we have been ROBBED. Wegmans will never come my way, due to the stranglehold of the Evil PriceChopper Empire, but I can hope. Honestly, Wegmans could make me move to Rochester. It's that good.

It's a sad, sad day when things like grocery stores get me hot and bothered. Did I mention the Cheese section? Sweet Jesus! Since I am Clawing and Scratching My Way Back Into My Old Clothes, I am avoiding cheese, but I think even looking at the display can make you gain weight. Sigh.

Also tomorrow, back to my usual rants: First up, The Demise of Pam and Kid Rock. Christ, if these two crazy kids can't make it work, what hope is there for any of us???? At least they had the sense to end it before they started breeding, but still.

The world is going to hell in a handbasket.

2006-11-22T12:01:00.000-08:00

ME-HI-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

At long last, here is “Grand Recap of All Things Mexico” for your reading pleasure—sorry it took so long but, as you can see, it’s a huge entry and it takes a little work to pull something like this together (especially when trying to do The Work That Pays The Bills) Regular readers might wonder: What gives? Normally Viva keeps it to celebrities, 80s nostalgia, vibrators, and video clips of things she finds amusing, but bear with this indulgence folks—I promised it to my closest and dearest, and hell, it’s fun to reminisce. Normal bitching will ensue tomorrow, but for now, we’ll always have The Barceló.

To preface, I rarely take vacations, and when I do, it usually involves either Maine, Vermont, or New Hampshire, or somewhere along those lines, wherein Viva packs up the dog, gets some secluded cabin out on a lake or the ocean, and does fun stuff like comb the beach for mussels for dinner, fish, read books, let lobsters swim in the bathtub before boiling them alive, and, well, that’s sort of about it. Which is fun, don’t get me wrong. I am down for the outdoors, but vacations where you have to cook every meal yourself—it gets old. I want to be served. I want frothy drinks in oversized mugs, I want SPF 500 slathered on my body, and a lounge chair where I can plop and watch aging European men squeeze themselves into banana-hanger bathing suits. Where can one find this? Why, Mexico of course!

Here’s how it goes: Longtime Viva friend and intrepid travel-bargain finder Tomai hooks us up with a deal for 75% off at our favorite resort, the Barceló Maya, in balmy Riviera Maya, Mexico. It’s so cheap, it’s actually CHEAPER than carting myself out to Maine and freezing my ass off for a week. We are jubilant. We have months and months to diet and prepare, none of which I end up doing, but whatever. Finally, the day arrives, and off we fly to Me-hi-ho, stars in our eyes, sand in our hair, sippy cups in hand.

I could go into a moment-by-moment breakdown of our entire trip. But who wants to read that? Instead, I’ll summarize by discussing the following:

15 THINGS I LEARNED WHILE IN MEXICO

1. Tequila makes your clothes fall off. Megan, we are talking about you. Somewhere out there in the world is a tiny meek Japanese man with years of masturbatory material thanks to our friend Megan’s propensity for “accidentally-on-purpose” dropping her towel and/or bikini top in the most unlikely of places (we have the pictures to prove it, but you’ll all have to use your imaginations). Call her crazy, call her fearless, but Megan provided lots of “OH NO SHE DIDN’T” moments throughout our Mexico trip. Hours of entertainment, I tell you.

2. Towel animals make us giddy. Seriously. Our maids made a menagerie of towel critters, complete with tiny stick-on eyes, and flower petals on our beds. Viva LIVES for this stuff. I want to cart one of these maids up to the Great White North and spend the rest of my life waking up to towel elephants, zebras, lions, crocodiles in my bathroom—whatever Rosa can dream up, gimme gimme.

3. God made buffets because he wants us to be happy. He really did. I am the queen of piling my plate to the sky with food, and not eating any of it. Wasteful, sure, but that’s who I am. The Barceló’s buffets had more selection than Owen Wilson at a Playboy Mansion party. I took a little of everything, and ended up eating the guacamole and french fries. It all goes back to psychology—I may not want everything I have, but I just like to know I can have it. Viva is a greedy bitch, but it’s the nature of the beast. YAY!!!

4. Fire ants suck. Or biting ants. Or whatever the hell these damn ants were, they left me miserable, itchy, and with a bitten-up arm that only Father Damien could love (click on the link, so you get my obscure joke and laugh, dammit). Here’s how it went. Viva stays in the pool until well after dark with friends Tomai and Christina to gawk at the Fitness Together men at the swim-up bar (we’re getting to them, be patient). But anyhow, Viva leaves bag and cover-up on ground beside pool. Viva has a tasty ripe banana in her bag. Are we all getting where this is going? When we finally leave the pool, I throw my cover up on and realize upon reaching our building, that I am itching and burning—since I hadn’t slept with Tommy Lee within the past twelve hours, I could only assume that something else was causing this fiery pain, and looked down to see myself covered with little black angry ants. What happened next is a blur, but it involved lots of screaming, cursing, throwing off clothes, and doing the Mexican Hat/Ant Crush Dance right in the middle of the hallway while Tomai and Christina dusted my stuff for the nasty insects. It is exactly one week later and my arm STILL itches and looks deformed. I used to be the type of person to shuffle an ant out the door on a piece of paper, rather than kill it. No more! Bastards.

5. Girls like to fall on their heads. A lot. Water + ceramic tile = girls go boom boom. I think all of us took a header at some point or another. As for me, after a spell of rain drenched the resort, my platform sandals became ice skates and I ended up flat on my back, staring up a bevy of concerned southern middle-aged women hovering over me, saying things like “Y’all okay, Sugar? Don’t move ya head just yet, now!” I thought I was hallucinating. Viva friend Christina just laughed at my sorry ass. Where is the love?!?

6. Muscleheads are the new black. Who knew that a group of quasi-literate, chair-jumping, anabolically pumped personal trainers could turn a great trip into a truly spectacular one? Apparently, some national franchise called "Fitness Together" decided to book a conference at the resort for the same week we girls were there. Jackpot! Now, if we were back in New York, these would be the same guys we’d make fun of and sniff “What is he trying to prove, anyway?” But in Mexico, with tequila, they were manna from heaven. The volleyball games on the beach were straight out of Top Gun. Who needs TV? To their credit, most of them were nice (like the southern boy, Clint, from A-LA-BAAAAAA-MA). Some were just funny. I struck up a conversation with one guy about the benefits of hiring prostitutes instead of actually dating women. I am not making this up. Most of the week, we spent sucking in our stomachs on the way to the buffet as we passed these guys reading books like The Business of Personal Training. When they left the resort on Friday, a little part of us died…. FITNESS TOGETHER FOREVER!

7. Everybody Loves Christina. Or “ChrisTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINA!!!!” Viva friend and fellow Mexico-goer Christina rocked it like a hurricane in Mexico. Christina is this very sweet, quiet girl, who was just going about her daily business when seemingly, she was mobbed by every musclehead and Mexican waiter within a 5-mile radius. The men couldn’t get enough of her, and her little pink bikini. We’d be eating and the umpteenth Mexican waiter would be making googly eyes and asking her if she had an “espousa” or a boyfriend, or where she was staying. The best of the bunch was one of the ‘Roid Ragers, this large Spanish (???) man who essentially stalked Christina like she was a wounded gazelle. He’s all intense, following her around the pool, moaning “ChriiiiiiisTIIINA, what room you in? What room she in? I want to know? Where can I find you? What are you doing later? Christina, why you swim away from me? I just want to talk to you!!!!!!!” Sure, you do, buddy. With your penis.

8. Dolphins are like dogs that swim. Or at least that’s what I wanted to believe. Tomai, Christina and I did this "Dolphin Discovery” thing where you swim with dolphins, manatees, and sea lions, which was pretty neat. Every time our main dolphin Chaach swam by, I’d be all “Who’s the good boy????” while rubbing its stomach. I bet you a lot of people do that—at least saps like me who missed their dogs. Beautiful creatures those dolphins. Sea lions are cute too. Manatees, also cute, but they are HUGE, bristly, covered in algae and given to making “Manatee Stew” (think food and God Knows What Else floats around in their enclosure). Next time, I can look at them from shore, and be totally cool. Killer manatees……..

9. Snorkeling is righteous. If you folks are planning a trip to Mexico, follow the old girl’s advice and do the Xelha Eco-Theme Park—it’s snorkeling paradise, and there’s all this other stuff to do as well, like tube down a lazy river (which I failed at—“Nobody puts Viva in an inner tube!”), or lose your credit card while jumping off the Cliff of Courage—and then have someone swim around, FIND it—and GIVE IT BACK. Try THAT in New York!

10. ATVs are scary. Oh screw you, yes they are. Viva friends Jill, Chuck, and Dave call and chirp “We’re going on an ATV excursion.” Viva, who grew up inches outside of NYC and whose childhood experiences with nature consisted of hanging out in shopping malls, is all “Great, I’m game! What’s an ATV???” Yeah. So we can see how this goes down. ATVs, I have learned, are like these dune buggy type things with no shocks and have a propensity to, like, roll over and maim you. I am thinking “Well, we’ll drive these nice little vehicles on a flat beach and won’t that be nice?” Oh no. No, the point of these things is to actually GO OVER bumpy stuff. That is supposed to be the fun part—bouncing around, racing up steep hills, hitting trees. This is what people, apparently, paid money to do. Approximately one minute after the nice Mexican man turned on my ATV, muttered “This is gas, this is brake, GO!” I knew I was totally, completely, and utterly screwed. Usual Viva protocol would involve me pitching an immediate fit and hopping off this deathtrap. But, Viva friends were all excited and I had me some pride, which quickly gave way to general ineptness and fear. I sucked. Apparently, the tour guide likes to put the sucky people at the front of the group, rather than trail at the back, which I was dying to do. I had on this black helmet a la Seargent Schultz from Hogan’s Heroes, and my inner (and outer) dialogue went something like this: “thisfuckingsucksthisfuckingsucksthisfuckingsucksIamgoingtoflipthisfuckingthing and drowninapoolofmyownblood.” Finally, I missed a turnoff. Mexican tour guide-man was annoyed and started gesticulating for me to get back in formation. “Reverse” he yelled. I yelled back “Where the fuck is reverse?!?!?!? You showed me 'gas' and 'stop'!!!!" Jill’s husband Dave, Patron Saint of Panicking Women Who Are in Over Their Head, zoomed over and essentially saved my sorry ass. My pride in tatters, I blathered “I CAN’T DO THIS, I HATE ATVS!!!”—Dave grabs my dear friend Jill, who, God Bless Her Soul, hops on my ATV and takes the wheel, asking "Do you trust me?" I remember thinking "Honey, I think I would trust a well-trained monkey's ATV driving skills more than my own, take the wheel!" I think I clung so hard to Jill’s waist that my nail marks are probably still embedded in her stomach. Once I didn’t have to drive that damn ATV, the trip was great, and created some girl-bonding moments that are burned into my head for eternity. So it was all good. Moral of the story: “Know the Nature of the Beast on Which You are Riding”—is this a double entendre? Absolutely, but this is my blog and I can double entendre anytime I want. So there.

11. A jaguar does not a cheetah make. The Barceló’s one and only discothèque was “The Jaguar” or “ JAG-GUUUUARRRR! (sort of yell it and make “claws” while saying it, and you’ve got it down). The Jaguar prompted all sorts of discussions. Were the huge, seemingly paper-mached creatures outside of the Jaguar, REALLY Jaguars? Or were they cheetahs? They sure looked like cheetahs. And why did it resemble a high school gymnasium on the inside? What was the deal with all that fog? To cover up the fact that no one was really there? Oh Jaguar, we miss you, and your throbbing techno beat, so reminiscent of Joey’s in Clifton!!!! One memorable Jaguar moment actually took place in the ladies’ room wherein a group of befuddled Italian girls stood around their hopelessly drunk friend and watched her puke—IN THE SINK. WTF? American women know enough to grab their drunk girl and throw her in a stall, pull back her hair and sing her a dog while she upchucks. This poor Italian Bella had no such luck. Maybe that’s why she was crying and moaning and carrying on. I’d be crying too, if people left me to yak in a sink. Idiots.

12. Desperate need breeds ingenuity. As a special FYI, champagne buckets make GREAT vomit receptacles, right Tomai? Let’s see if I can spell out the sound she made when she leaped up from the bed in a panic and grabbed the unfortunate bucket in the wee hours of the morning: “HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!” I wanted to help her. I really did. Instead I laid in bed, twitching with residual tequila shakes, giggling. Viva is a good friend.

13. A picture tells a thousand words. Or, in my case, three little words: “You got fat.” Viva is the queen of denial and even though I have porked up like a Thanksgiving turkey in the last year and a half, somewhere inside of me, my inner optimist was like “You’re just a little chubby right now, that’s all!” Yeah. Just like Michael Jackson is a little fond of young boys. So I brought my optimistic, delusional self with me for the Mexico trip, in spite of the fact that everything I brought had tags on it (because I had to buy it new—because my old clothes wouldn’t even get past my hips, much less button up). I honestly believed I was actually holding it together. Until the pictures started rolling in--emphasis on the word "rolling." In horror, I realized that I had lost my chin and gained another ass. The same girl who spent her 20s and early 30s pretty skinny, barely eating, hopped-up on ephedra pills and diet Red Bull, and running around postage stamp-sized skirts, is now a pork chop. This is when I miss my father. I come from a family of super-skinny Irish people who chain-smoked, drank lots of black coffee, and forgot to eat (who does that?). When my old man was alive, he was the Voice of Reality. Our conversations would go something like this: Me: “Dad, why didn’t you eat the dinner I made you?!?!?! Jesus, how many cigarettes did you smoke today? Where is your inhaler? Don’t tell me all you ate all day was that crappy Dunkin Donuts muffin and coffee!!!!” My old man: “Did you put on weight? You look like you’re getting a double chin. Where did you hide those last two cigarettes???” Nobody loves you like family, eh? Who else tells you the truth these days? Viva Husband would let me hit 500 pounds before daring to utter “maybe you should try a carrot stick or something.” Men who are not biologically related to me seem to fear my wrath. Go figure. Anyhow, at home Viva cooks these huge dinners every night of the week, which MAY account for said pork chop-ed-ness. No more. At least for me anyway. I rolled out the usual fare last night (chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits), and left myself with a wee grilled chicken breast. Viva Husband is like “Aren’t you going to have any…..” and I bellowed “THE CHICKEN BREAST IS FINE, thanks.” Dieting sucks. But lacking a chin sucks even more. And I miss my old, little ass. Viva hates baggage. Viva is all about losing baggage in the upcoming months. It won’t be easy, but nothing ever is these days. Updates will be forthcoming.

14. Dogs love you even when you torment them. We all know how goopy I get about my dog. I know, I know, I have some issues. Though I hated to leave Me-hi-ho, it was nice to come home to such a happy, frantic greeting from the Cooperman. How do I repay his love, his loyalty, his unwavering devotion? I make him wear a little sombrero and take pictures of him for your amusement. Cooper sort of reminds me of Max from “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”—he pretty much does what I want him to do, but is miserable about it. Normally he loves lying on the couch. But because I WANTED him to lie on the couch, he wouldn’t do it. Damn dog. So here’s a picture of Cooper lying in front of Viva’s olive green couches, and the yellow walls that are still not the gold color I wanted, even after repainting the room three times. I strategically placed the sippy cup for effect. It’s now his new toy. The boy makes me proud.

15. Friends are the chocolate-chip cookie dough in the ice cream of life. They seriously are. If Mexico taught old Viva anything, it’s that nothing replaces time with great friends. Sometimes we get so caught up in our own angst, we sort of forget to touch base with our pals, and what better opportunity than a week away in Paradise to laugh with old friends and make new ones too??? Viva sends huge “Thank You”s to Tomai, for making all of this happen, to Christina, to being the Sexy Minx that she is, to Samantha, Megan, Carmelina, and Sarah, for being funny, righteous chicks with whom many stories were shared, and especially to Jill, one of Viva’s oldest and dearest, who made me feel like my old, slightly psychotic but fun, self again—no therapy is better than a Scranton-style “Come to Jesus” talkfest with your sister. Much thanks too, to Dave and Chuck, who seemed to enjoy all of our cumulative female shenanigans with good cheer.

I think I’ve covered everything, and if I didn’t, well, my fingers are tired from typing. Thanks for a great time, folks. You all seriously rock.

2006-11-21T11:58:00.000-08:00

I'M STILL WORKING ON THE
BIG MEXICO ENTRY

So hold tight, kittens. So much to discuss, so much to sanitize (Megan!)--hee hee! YAY!!!!!!

However, in honor of Me-hi-ho, topless crazy women, and Viva's dear friend Tomai, the country music queen, I offer you this, to tide you over.

LOVES IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-11-20T11:47:00.000-08:00

VIVA LA TEQUILA BOOM BOOMS....

Your pal Viva has returned from Mexico and is still too dehydrated and covered with bruises and fire ant bites to type anything truly meaningful today. I think I'm just getting rid of the shakes.... It was one hell of a trip, let me tell you.

Check back tomorrow for a recap of the trip, including all the highlights that are fit to print, and why Fitness Together is our New Favorite Corporate Franchise. 'Roid Rage Forever!

2006-11-09T11:37:00.000-08:00

SPEAKING OF VIBRATORS...

Whenever I hear this song, I think of vibrators.

Listen to the lyrics!

I plug you in!

Dim the lights, electric Barbarella!"

It's totally a song about vibrators. Or maybe I am reading into it too much. Hell, just watch the video.

2006-11-09T10:46:00.000-08:00

WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ME?

I disappeared. I know. I know that, according to Morrissey, November spawned a monster, but in my case, October came and stamped on my intestines. So I owe you all craploads of updates, and they are coming.

Just not yet.

Viva is going on vacation, to sunny Mexico, to drink myself into a margarita-induced stupor and lament my soon-to-be unemployment. (Corporate takeovers--BOOO!!!!!!). I'll be gone for a week and when I return, I should have plenty of time to post. From the cardboard box I'll be calling home. My life, she ain't easy.

Anyhow, Viva will be covering:

DURAN IS THE HOTNESS, and why, if you aren't a Duran fan, you should be. Embrace your inner 80s and let your New Romantic Flag Fly. Viva met the boys after a recent concert of theirs, and is only just recovering. This is a story and a half, but I can tell you, that although John Taylor is not aging well, ROGER TAYLOR can beat my drums any time. Hubba Hubba. But I digress.

Britney--by the time I get back, Kevin should have gotten some other woman pregnant. Lots of posts right there.

Anna Nicole--have you been able to look away from this trainwreck? I try, and fail. This is brilliant tabloid fodder.

TomKat--should be "married" by the end of November. Maybe their "baby" will be a part of the ceremony? Don't get me started.

So I apologize for my absence, but don't think I haven't missed you. Once I finish pulverize my liver, I am all yours once again.

2006-09-21T06:23:00.000-07:00

WHY I DISAPPEAR FOR NO APPARENT REASON

"Where the hell are you?" seems to be the question of the moment, and Viva apologizes for her latest disappearing act. I am where I usually am when you don't see new posts. Back to my desk where the "real work" looms large, and bites me in my ass on a daily basis. Honestly, I wish I could bitch all day about celebrities or even my life in general and have someone pay me handsomely for it, or even not so handsomely, but (as of yet) that ship has not come in. One day, come hell or Hepatitis C, I will get paid for this shit. And the world will rejoice in song!!!!

Until then, I might be elusive, like the Jaguar Shark hunted by Steve Zizzou in The Life Aquatic. Isn't that movie awesome? I love Bill Murray. One day, I will have to post about how my fateful meeting with Bill Murray: I was 10, had huge bangs, and was making brownies while staying in Dan Ackroyd's house for the weekend with my crazy brother and his then-wife. Bill was younger, still pretty bald, cranky as ever, and walking down the street with a large group of people I assumed to be his family. It was pretty funny. Oh I am full of stories like this, but have no flipping time to tell them!!!! Life is a cruel beast, ain't she?

I've got some hanking deadlines looming, but will try to post whenever possible. Or when something fabulous happens.

2006-09-15T05:24:00.000-07:00

VIVA HAS A BIRTHDAY; HILARITY ENSUES

Anyone who knows me knows that I shun my birthday like the Bubonic Plague. For one, wacky shit always happens around my birthday--people seem to die on me during this time of the year, terrorist attacks happen, the whole nine yards. In short, my birthday sucks. I have this twisted idea that if I IGNORE my birthday, it's like it never happened and thus, I "forget" to adjust my age when people ask how old I am. It's so convenient. It's so delusional. I love delusion. I wish they would make delusion in pill form and bottle it. Oh wait, they do! It's called Vicodin. Ohhhh I love Vicodin. I hoard them like a squirrel hoards acorns. But anyhow....

How old am I, you ask? REALLY FUCKING OLD. Old enough that not only are my bones turning to dust (see calcium pills above), but other parts of me are dusty as well--like my as-yet unused uterus. My uterus is like the "Handi-Stitch" contraption I bought in the "As Seen On TV" store in the mall and promptly put in my closet once I got home: Chances are, I will never use the thing, but I like to know that it's there and the batteries in it still work, regardless. I never thought I would be old enough to come to the "Do or Die" point when it comes to my reproductive organs, but I am approaching the Double Black Diamond area of Mount Fertility, and let me tell you, the trail down doesn't look pretty. Which is why I prefer to hang out in the Chalet and drink spiked hot chocolate instead.

Enough about dusty uteruses and failing fertility. Let's get to gifts. Every year I compile a list of things I want for my birthday. Some staples remain (money, my youth), but if you're looking for the perfect gift for me, here are some pointers

1. Endoscopic brow lift, restylane injections in lips, labial folds (on my face, you pervs), and brow lines, botox, laser peel, by whoever did Demi Moore's work. I want it all. I want to be buffed to a high sheen, even if this means I will never raise my eyebrows again. Eyebrow-raising is overrated anyway.

2. One month stay at fat farm to regain the ass I had at 26 (which actually came about because I lived on ephedra, black coffee, green apples, and booze for 5 months--ah, youth).

3. Literary agent who gets me some killer book deal that gets me rich enough to freeze my eggs--hell, to even freeze my whole damn uterus until I am ready to use it.

4. Nelly Furtado and Justin Timberlake's new albums (even the geezers like to get their groove on).

5. Subscriptions to every trash magazine out there, so I don't have to read them in the grocery store (Viva is cheap as hell and won't buy them).

6. Cheese fries. (Give me the fries before the fat farm--once I am there, they can just give me one of those colonic irrigations and flush the cheese fries right back out of me).

7. Weekend in NYC where I can get drunk with all of my friends and we can convince ourselves, after 7 or 8 martinis, that we are still young and vibrant, and the world is our oyster. AND we can buy knock-offs on Canal Street. I love knock-offs!

8. Footage of Jessica Simpson shooting her next music video in Alaska, wherein she is mauled by a huge brown bear and torn limb from limb while her father Joe screams in horror. I would watch this every day. In slow motion.

Enough birthday talk, I'm going to get back to work, but not before adding some booze to my morning coffee, even if it is only 9 a.m. The Birthday Girl can do whatever the hell she wants, dammit!!!

2006-09-14T15:27:00.000-07:00

"TWIST YOUR BACK AND NEVER GET OUT OF BED AGAIN!!!!!"

While perusing today's trash, Viva reader (and dear friend) Joe offered this brilliant and scathing observation:

"Kate Bosworth looks like Zelda from Pet Sematary"

Zelda, as horror dorks like us know, was Rachel Creed's deformed sister with the twisted back that was hidden in a back bedroom, as she was, well, sort of scary and given to choking on porridge. I could see totally see Kate choking on porridge.

You know, you never see Zelda and Kate in the same room together. They could be one and the same.... just like LaToya and Michael..... It makes a girl wonder.

2006-09-14T08:11:00.000-07:00

I GUESS THE KID REALLY IS BRAD'S.

Here's a close-up of little baby Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt, which pretty much assures us that it was Brad's sperm, and not Billy Bob Thornton's, that created her. Now, as much as Brad and Angie annoy the crap out of me, THIS is a cute baby. I mean, it was really genetically impossible for them not to have a cute baby, but still.

Actually though I have seen some pictures of Angelina Jolie as a little kid and she sort of resembles a grouper fish so the precedent for funny-looking WAS there, but Brad has been hot forever so I guess his Hot Baby genes cancelled out her Grouper Fish Baby genes, and they hit the cute jackpot with Shiloh.

2006-09-14T07:57:00.000-07:00

IT JUST GETS MORE BIZARRE...

This is the latest in the increasingly bizarre death of Anna Nicole Smith's son Daniel. Apparently Anna had to be drugged up from all the grief she experienced, and now has mamory loss about Daniel's death. I am going to sound horrible, but something just seems "off" about this to me. I mean, I totally buy that she was grief-stricken, and I also totally buy that she wanted drugs, but this written statement about "memory loss" coming on the heels of the death being labeled "suspicious" is just.... weird. I hope, hope, hope to God that nothing fishy is going on. As much as this story is horrible now, it could be a whole lot worse. We should have some answers when the toxicology reports are released, and find out more about this "other person" who was in the room with Daniel when he died.

Very, very sad.

From People

Lawyer: Anna Nicole Had to Be Sedated

Anna Nicole Smith's Bahamian attorney, Michael Scott, says Smith had to be sedated after the death Sunday of her 20-year-old son Daniel.

"Anna Nicole was so distraught at the loss of Daniel that she refused to leave his side, and it was necessary to sedate her in order to check her out of the hospital," Scott read from a prepared statement Wednesday, the Associated Press reports.

"The devastation and grief over Daniel's sudden death, coupled with the sedation, has been so extreme that Anna Nicole experienced memory loss of the event," he said.

Police said Wednesday that a third person was in the hospital room when Daniel died, although they did not believe that person acted criminally. Scott identified the third person as Smith's lawyer and confidant, Howard K. Stern. He said Smith and Stern kept trying to revive Daniel after he had been declared dead by staff at Nassau's Doctors Hospital.

He added that because Smith suffered memory loss, it "was necessary for Howard to tell Anna again that Daniel had passed away."

Smith is now in seclusion in the Bahamas with her friends and family, "as you would expect (of) any parent who has sustained this kind of loss."

Scott also called media reports that Daniel had antidepressants of other drugs in his system "sheer speculation. It's irresponsible speculation, may I point out."

Reginald Ferguson, assistant commissioner of the Royal Bahamas Police Force, told the AP that no drug paraphernalia or traces of illegal drugs were found on Daniel, in the hospital room or near the room, and that police believe he'd gone directly to Doctors Hospital after arriving in the Bahamas.

On Wednesday, an official in the Bahamas labeled Daniel's death "suspicious" and said a formal inquiry was set to begin Oct. 23.

2006-09-14T07:40:00.000-07:00

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEBODY GIVE HER A CHEESE SANDWICH!

Furthering my sneaking suspicion that Orlando Bloom is gaygaygay as can be, here are some pics of Kate Bosworth which show that underneath her baggy black dress, she has the body of a malnourished 10-year-old Thai boy. The only way Orlando could have "dated" Kate this long was either (a) they had a contractual agreement that he never see her naked, or (b) he was straight when he STARTED dating her, but turned gay in revulsion to her spindly form. Either way, Orlando has better sense than to stick his penis anywhere near her, for fear of it getting bitten off and eaten, for protein. That girl is HUNGRY.

2006-09-14T06:36:00.000-07:00

TWINS ARE THE NEW "MIXED-RACE BABY!"

Today, the world has welcomed the HOTTEST TWINS EVER! My dear friend and her husband are now Mom and Dad to their snazzy new progeny, Frankie and Ava. Viva is super-thrilled to be a wacky aunt yet again, and has FINALLY found the clip she was looking for from "Ab Fab" to commemorate this momentous occasion--"The Mixed Race Baby"--where Eddy realizes that her soon-to-be grandchild will be the trendiest thing going! The mixed-race baby was the "must-have accessory of the season, it's the CHANEL of babies!"--until Heidi Klum and Seal had to go and ruin it for everyone with Unfortunate Baby Henry. Ah well!!!

Viva declares TWINS the new "Chanel" of babies, and wishes these new ones long, healthy, and happy lives! YAY!!!!

VIVA LA TWINS!

2006-09-13T13:30:00.000-07:00

...AND DELIVER US FROM CRACK PIPES, AMEN.

Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord. Whitney Houston finally files for divorce, after Bobby done blew through all her money on hookers and crack. Time has not been kind to Whitney. Bitch is looking OLD. But maybe now, she'll get herself straight, glue in those dentures, pin on that wig, and sing the way we all remembered she could. Lord knows she needs the money.

From CNN

Whitney Houston files for divorce

LOS ANGELES, California (AP) -- Whitney Houston has filed for divorce from her husband Bobby Brown, her publicist told The Associated Press on Wednesday.
Publicist Nancy Seltzer declined to reveal where or when Houston filed the divorce papers, and said the singer had no statement to make.
"I can just confirm that she has filed for divorce," Seltzer said.
Houston and Brown, who married in 1992, have had a sometimes tumultuous marriage, and rumors of their breakup have surfaced often over the years.
The couple have one child, 13-year-old daughter, Bobbi Kristina.

2006-09-13T06:34:00.000-07:00

REMIND ME TO BE AN ASIAN WOMAN IN MY NEXT LIFE

I've never really had any great desire to be Asian, save for the fact that I would likely be a lot thinner, smarter, and would hopefully have some sort of ability to tan. But being an Asian woman has its downside too--plenty of these poor dears have to put up with the boatloads of paunchy balding White men who have that "Little China Girl" fantasy thing going on. That has to be a major buzzkill, and would make me very cranky. I actually had a friend, back in the day, who would only exclusively date Asian women because they were "nicer" to him. As it turns out, every one of these delicate lotus flowers ended up dumping his sorry ass. He never got the hint: White, Black, Asian, it doesn't matter--a woman is eventually going to dump you if you live with your mother and don't have a job.

As for Bergen County, NJ, I've lived there and, although it is lovely, I have no idea how living in this area could INCREASE your life expectancy. If the soaring home prices (think $500K for hovels) and taxes don't kill you, the traffic will. And don't even get me started about the Guidos. There are too many damn people in Bergen County, but maybe overcrowding increases the immune system because a report released yesterday says that Asian women who live in Bergen County, NJ have the highest life expectancy. Who knew? Let's hit the Garden State Plaza, grab some sushi, and go out to Joey's in Clifton afterwards!

From Yahoo News

Where you live linked to life expectancy

By LAURAN NEERGAARD, AP Medical Writer
Mon Sep 11, 6:18 PM ET
WASHINGTON - Where you live, combined with race and income, plays a huge role in the nation's health disparities, differences so stark that a report issued Monday contends it's as if there are eight separate Americas instead of one.

Asian-American women living in Bergen County, N.J., lead the nation in longevity, typically reaching their 91st birthdays. Worst off are American Indian men in swaths of South Dakota, who die around age 58 — three decades sooner.Millions of the worst-off Americans have life expectancies typical of developing countries, concluded Dr. Christopher Murray of the Harvard School of Public Health.Asian-American women can expect to live 13 years longer than low-income black women in the rural South, for example. That's like comparing women in wealthy Japan to those in poverty-ridden Nicaragua.Compare those longest-living women to inner-city black men, and the life-expectancy gap is 21 years. That's similar to the life-expectancy gap between Iceland and Uzbekistan.Health disparities are widely considered an issue of minorities and the poor being unable to find or afford good medical care. Murray's county-by-county comparison of life expectancy shows the problem is far more complex, and that geography plays a crucial role."Although we share in the U.S. a reasonably common culture ... there's still a lot of variation in how people live their lives," explained Murray, who reported initial results of his government-funded study in the online science journal PLoS Medicine.Consider: The longest-living whites weren't the relatively wealthy, which Murray calls "Middle America." They're edged out by low-income residents of the rural Northern Plains states, where the men tend to reach age 76 and the women 82.Yet low-income whites in Appalachia and the Mississippi Valley die four years sooner than their Northern neighbors.He cites American Indians as another example. Those who don't live on or near reservations in the West have life expectancies similar to whites'."If it's your family involved, these are not small differences in lifespan," Murray said. "Yet that sense of alarm isn't there in the public.""If I were living in parts of the country with those sorts of life expectancies, I would want ... to be asking my local officials or state officials or my congressman, 'Why is this?'"This more precise measure of health disparities will allow federal officials to better target efforts to battle inequalities, said Dr. Wayne Giles of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, which helped fund Murray's work.The CDC has some county-targeted programs — like one that has cut in half diabetes-caused amputations among black men in Charleston, S.C., since 1999, largely by encouraging physical activity — and the new study argues for more, he said."It's not just telling people to be active or not to smoke," Giles said. "We need to create the environment which assists people in achieving a healthy lifestyle."The study also highlights that the complicated tapestry of local and cultural customs may be more important than income in driving health disparities, said Richard Suzman of the National Institute on Aging, which co-funded the research."It's not just low income," Suzman said. "It's what people eat, it's how they behave, or simply what's available in supermarkets."Murray analyzed mortality data between 1982 and 2001 by county, race, gender and income. He found some distinct groupings that he named the "eight Americas:"

_Asian-Americans, average per capita income of $21,566, have a life expectancy of 84.9 years. _Northland low-income rural whites, $17,758, 79 years. _Middle America (mostly white), $24,640, 77.9 years. _Low income whites in Appalachia, Mississippi Valley, $16,390, 75 years. _Western American Indians, $10,029, 72.7 years. _Black Middle America, $15,412, 72.9 years. _Southern low-income rural blacks, $10,463, 71.2 years. _High-risk urban blacks, $14,800, 71.1 years.

Longevity disparities were most pronounced in young and middle-aged adults. A 15-year-old urban black man was 3.8 times as likely to die before the age of 60 as an Asian-American, for example. That's key, Murray said, because this age group is left out of many government health programs that focus largely on children and the elderly. Moreover, the longevity gaps have stayed about the same for 20 years despite increasing national efforts to eliminate obvious racial and ethnic health disparities, he found. Murray was surprised to find that lack of health insurance explained only a small portion of those gaps. Instead, differences in alcohol and tobacco use, blood pressure, cholesterol and obesity seemed to drive death rates. Most important, he said, will be pinpointing geographically defined factors — such as shared ancestry, dietary customs, local industry, what regions are more or less prone to physical activity — that in turn influence those health risks. For example, scientists have long thought that the Asian longevity advantage would disappear once immigrant families adopted higher-fat Western diets. Murray's study is the first to closely examine second-generation Asian-Americans, and found their advantage persists.

2006-09-13T06:10:00.000-07:00

THE NUTS LEADING THE NUTS

is being saved by

Sometimes a story makes life so easy for me. I really don't even have to come up with anything snarky to say. Read on about How Stephen Baldwin wants to have a big "Come to Jesus" with Tom Cruise. You can't make this shit up.

From MSNBC

Praying for Tom Cruise
Stephen Baldwin says he is praying for Tom Cruise’s soul.

“On the Hollywood list of people I pray for often, Tom Cruise is probably No. 1,” the youngest of the Baldwin brothers told Radar Online. “I’d love to break bread with him and pray with him, and I’d love for the Holy Spirit of God to reveal the truth to him.”

Baldwin also says that Cruise is a “very different guy” from the person he was when they worked together on “Born on the Fourth of July.”

“That regular Joe quality seems to have been lost,” Says Baldwin. “When you buy enough of your own hype, then it’s not who you are anymore.”

The born-again Baldwin has written a book about spirituality, “The Unusual Suspect: My Calling to the New Hardcore Movement of Faith,” but when asked by Radar Online to name the Ten Commandments after much fumbling came up with only six. He was totally stumped when asked to name the seven deadly sins.

2006-09-13T05:53:00.000-07:00

THE HOLY FAMILY EMERGES

Here's the first picture of the Jolie-Pitt clan en masse. I think it is pretty funny how these two had no problem trotting out poor Maddox and Zahara like show ponies when they were infants, but when it came to their BIOLOGICAL child, well, Shiloh was too good for such wanton displays. Nice to see that Brad and Angie are finally treating their three children like equals on this nice day out together.

Oh who are we kidding, you know Brad and Angelina totally love Shiloh way more than those other two. Once that kid arrived, Maddox and Zahara were probably relegated to sleeping on straw mats in the basement. Angelina will say that this is to "keep them in touch with their culture." Suuuuuuuure.

2006-09-13T05:43:00.000-07:00

MORE BUMMER NEWS...

Looks like Anna Nicole Smith's son Daniel's death was not a natural one, which totally sucks. Doctors are mum, but are hinting towards an "overdose of antidepressants" which caused this kid's demise. Can you blame poor Danny? How many years of Nicole and Howard and Kimmy and Sugar Pie and that horrible Bobby Trendy could any human being take? I'd be depressed too, dammit!

Toxicology reports will be released on Friday. Daniel has be described as a straight "A" student, quiet, shy, and nice. This really is a shame.

From The New York Post

BOY BLUNDER: DOCS EYE RX OD IN ANNA SON'S DEATH
By DAVID K. LI

September 13, 2006 -- The only son of model Anna Nicole Smith did not die "a natural death" in the Bahamas, but wasn't a victim of foul play, a top Bahamian official said yesterday.
Pathologists are still running tests on the body of Daniel Smith, 20, who died Sunday in the maternity wards of a Nassau hospital where he was visiting his mom, officials said. Anna Nicole Smith had given birth to a baby girl three days earlier.
The Nassau Guardian newspaper reported that investigators found antidepressants in Smith's body, and were zeroing in on an overdose as a possible cause of death.
Magistrate and Coroner Linda Virgill declined to confirm that report, but told The Post, "His death was not a natural death. It means you can rule out external forces [foul play], but he just didn't go to sleep and not wake up."
Virgill said she knows what likely killed Smith, but wants to confirm it with tissue exams before making a public announcement.
"We do know the cause of the death, but we will not release it, pending some more toxicology results," Virgill said.
Pathologists expected to keep Daniel Smith's body until at least Thursday. Anna Nicole plans to send her son's remains to California for a funeral, according to a mortuary in the Bahamas.
The outspoken model traveled to Doctors Hospital in the Bahamas to give birth, so she could dodge paparazzi, her representatives said.
The TrimSpa-hawking, formerly supersized sexpot gained fame as Playboy's 1993 Playmate of the Year. She married an 89-year-old, wheelchair-bound oil tycoon 14 months before his death, touching off a years-long probate battle that went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.
Her 6-pound, 9-ounce girl was born on Thursday, and Daniel Smith arrived in the Bahamas on Saturday to greet his new baby sister. The name of the father, a photographer, hasn't been made public.
During his visit on Sunday, Daniel Smith began to vomit and cough up blood before passing out, according to the Guardian. Doctors performed CPR for 22 minutes but could not revive him.
"It is very important that we wait for the pathologist's report. We believe that will answer all the questions," said Reginald Ferguson, assistant commissioner of the Royal Bahamian Police Force.
A spokeswoman for Anna Nicole and her diet product, TrimSpa, said the company has yanked all TV ads this week that were going to celebrate the model's second trip to motherhood.
"What we've had to do is replace the creative," said the spokeswoman, Robin Bonnema. "At this point, we were contractually obligated [to run ads]. The air time was purchased well in advance."

2006-09-12T12:58:00.000-07:00

POLL TIME!!!

2006-09-12T12:23:00.000-07:00

THINGS THAT SHOULDN'T MAKE ME HAPPY, BUT DO ANYWAY

Kate Hudson is young, really pretty, a movie star and a gazillionaire (even though she will have to give Jesus half of her money, most likely), and for all these reasons, I get a visceral thrill out of seeing Kate carrying around some extra luggage in the midsection. That's not very nice of me, now is it? I mean, picking on a woman who obviously is just showing her Badge of Motherhood. If she were any normal woman, I would defend her right to pooch out with her bad self. This extra luggage is really not Kate's fault--the poor thing turned into Two Ton Tilly while pregnant with Ryder Russell and gained 60 pounds, then had to drop the weight in about 4.4 seconds to be ready to film The Skeleton Key a few months after giving birth. As young and as lithe as she was, no body can take that kind of abuse, which has resulted in the above poochfest.

I mean, the woman has a six-pack otherwise--or a 5-pack with a pooch on the end, depending on how you want to spin it. But she wears her Badge of Motherhood well, and I still would take her body, even with corn niblets for boobs and the above-mentioned pooch over my fat ass any day.

Still, I am sort of happy to see that this 20something isn't perfect. Oh, the glow I get from basking in pretty people's imperfections. YAY!

2006-09-12T08:53:00.000-07:00

JUST WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS....

Another Federline. Reports are (albeit from the National Enquirer, so take it with a grain of salt) in that Britney has popped out a baby boy, a younger brother to Sean Preston Federline. And Kory Federline. And Kaleb Federline. The Maury Povich Show has taught us that stupid people love to breed indiscriminantly, and the Federlines are the Poster Children for Family Planning.

From The National Enquirer

BRITNEY GIVES BIRTH: IT'S A BOY!Pop princess Britney Spears gave birth to a 6 pound, 11 ounce baby boy just before 2 a.m., September 12th at a Los Angeles hospital, insiders told The ENQUIRER in an exclusive."Kevin took Britney to the hospital in the evening hours of Sept. 11 to prepare for the Cesarean birth," an insider said. Only her mother Lynn, and her sister Jamie Lynn were present at the birth. None of Kevin's family was there."Kevin sent a text message over his cell phone to all the Federline family members to let them know," the source said.Britney wanted to have her second child on September 14, the first birthday of Sean Preston but Kevin put his foot down, the source said. He didn't want the kids to have the same birthday.Published on: 09/12/2006

2006-09-12T07:23:00.000-07:00

TOM HANKS BEAT HIS FIRST WIFE!

Well, no he didn't, but I thought the headline would be more catchy if I said he did. It's all about the drama! Anyhow, even though he wasn't bitch-slapping anyone, court papers were unearthed recently, which paint Mr. Hanks as a meanie who sabotaged his ex-wife's career and "verbally abused her." Tom, of course, shot back that all of this was about moneymoneymoney, so who knows what really went down? It's not like Tom's first wife has any comment on this--she died in 2002 of bone cancer. Thrown over for a big-toothed "looker" like Rita Wilson, then biting it because of bone cancer. That's gotta suck.

From The New York Post

Tom Hanks is seen as one of Hollywood's nice guys - but the Oscar winner's first wife, the mother of his kids, strongly disagreed with that perception.
In newly unearthed court papers published in the upcoming bio "The Tom Hanks Enigma," by David Gardner, actress Susan Dillingham charges that Hanks harassed her and attempted to kill her career.

"My husband has repeatedly verbally abused and humiliated me during the past 90 days in my home. This caused me to suffer great emotional distress," Dillingham wrote an L.A. court in asking for a restraining order against Hanks.

Dillingham, whose stage name was Samantha Lewes, died from bone cancer in 2002. During their messy divorce, which began in 1985 and dragged on for three years, the actress said Hanks tried to force her into depositions as she took the lead roles in a series of plays. "[It's] designed to harass and upset me at a time when I should be focusing all of my energies on my job," she wrote in one legal missive.

Hanks shot back in his own legal filing, alleging that Dillingham was delaying a divorce trial "merely to harass me and try to squeeze an unfair settlement out of me."

The couple - college sweethearts who wed after their son, Colin, was born in 1977 - began to have problems when Hanks' career took off in hits like "Splash" and Dillingham's stalled. They also had a daughter, Elizabeth, in 1982.

"Tom was spending less and less time at home . . . [and] with two children to care for and a husband who was away for long stretches . . . it was difficult [for her] to get work," Gardner writes. A year after the divorce, Hanks wed actress Rita Wilson.

Gardner also reveals that Hanks' kid brother, Jim, played a Forrest Gump-type character in a little-known soft-core sex flick two years before Tom created the role that won him an Oscar. In "Buford's Beach Bunnies," Jim invented the "now-famous jerky run associated with Forrest Gump" and, like Gump, showed a shy politeness toward women by calling them "ma'am," the author says.

2006-09-12T06:56:00.000-07:00

VICTORIA BECKHAM IN "THE TWILIGHT ZONE"

IS

Anybody else seeing the resemblance between Posh and her
Eye of the Beholder castmates?

You would think that, with all of her money, she'd pay someone to slice off that pig snout. Or at least whittle it down. I may be fat, but this bitch is ugly and I can lose weight.

Daft, daft girl.

2006-09-12T06:37:00.000-07:00

WORLD'S UGLIEST BABY TURNS 1 TODAY

Lock up your daughters or, uh, your livestock. Henry Gunther Ademola Dashtu Samuel turns a year old today, while the world wonders how a supermodel and a rock star could create a child that could one day hold the title role in The Hunchback of Notre Dame--without any make-up, no less. Not one to leave scary enough alone, Heidi and Seal are in the midst of brewing their next "creation." Let's hope it's not a girl. Yikes.....

From
Celebrity Baby Blog

Happy birthday Henry. You are now 1 year old!

Name: Henry Gunther Ademola Dashtu Samuel

Birthday: 12th September 2005

Famous for: Being the second child and first biological child of supermodel Heidi Klum and her singer husband, Seal.

Name meaning: Henry's father Seal's real name is Sealhenry. Gunther is after Heidi's father and Ademola is a name from Seal's family. Dashtu is a name Seal came up with, meaning "-2" to illustrate the concept of another child, as explained by Heidi on Conan O'Brien.

Siblings: Henry has an older half-biological sister, Leni. Heidi considers Seal Leni's father.

What they said:

How has life changed for Klum since becoming a mother twice over?: "Two kids' car seats, more diapers and, as any new parents will tell you, less sleep."

Eight weeks after Henry was born, Heidi walked the catwalk for Victoria Secret, saying that "if you like what you do, you can juggle everything."

Even though Heidi is a business woman and supermodel, she says that her "favorite (role) is being a mom and wife."

2006-09-12T06:19:00.000-07:00

RUDY HUXTABLE IS A COKE WHORE

TO

Should we be surprised? I bet all of this started back when Bill Cosby would make little Keisha some "Jesus Juice" to drink before he invited her into his trailer to "rehearse."

God I am going to hell. Anyhow, here's the whole story.

From Bossip

Bossip has exclusively learned that Keisha Knight Pulliam formerly of the Cosby Show (Rudy) has a cocaine habit that goes back years.

Multiple sources tell Bossip that Keisha ran in an elite circle of Morehouse and Spelman students in Atlanta who dabbled in cocaine while in college. The source who is a member of this circle says he witnessed Keisha do a line of coke at a party and that one of their friends from Florida dropped out of college and fell on hard times due to this cocaine culture within this elite group of primarily wealthy students.

“Keisha still does coke and it is widely known by her friends, it’s not a secret” says a source.

Bossip has contacted members of this circle of Morehouse and Spelman students and Keisha’s cocaine habit is said to be beyond “dabbling”. Sources tell Bossip that Keisha came to Spelman College during her freshman year "round and plumpy" and not only used cocaine for the high, but to lose weight as well. “Cocaine was the drug of choice to lose weight for the elite group of girls at Spelman” says another source to Bossip.

Sources say Keisha still does coke but her habit is “managed and covered up pretty well.” It seems no child star from the Different Strokes and Cosby Show days made it squeaky clean from the child star syndrome.

2006-09-12T06:07:00.000-07:00

THERE ARE SOME THINGS THAT TRIMSPA CAN'T FIX

We can all say what we want about trainwreck Anna Nicole Smith, but I feel genuinely bad for this woman, after the near-unbelievable shit that went down in her life over the weekend. First, she gives birth to a healthy, presumably drug-free 6.9 ounce baby girl on September 7, in the Bahamas (why the Bahamas, I wonder? Is she trying to be like Angelina Jolie or something???). So this is good news. Then her 20-year old son Daniel flies down to see her and the new baby. He gets into the Bahamas, goes directly to the hospital, hangs with Mom and the new baby, and falls asleep in a chair next to his mother's bed. Later, Mom tries to wake him up and can't. Doctors can't either. The word right now is "massive heart attack." This is bad.

I always rooted for Daniel whenever I saw him on the "Anna Nicole Show," as his mom slurred her words, or kissed her late husband's urn, or ate fried chicken while having her nails done. He seemed like a nice, quiet kid, which amazed me given how outer-limits his mother was. Whatever the cause of death, 20 is too damn young to die. I just hope that Anna manages to keep it together for the sake of her newborn, and the only drugs she'll ingest are those damm Trimspa pills.

Poor kid. RIP Daniel.

From MSNBC

NASSAU, Bahamas - The 20-year-old son of Anna Nicole Smith died while visiting his mother in the hospital where the reality TV star and former Playboy playmate had given birth last week, a Bahamas police official said Monday.

Daniel Wayne Smith died Sunday in his mother’s room at Doctors’ Hospital in Nassau, Reginald Ferguson, assistant commissioner of the Royal Bahamian Police Force, said in an interview with The Associated Press. He said an autopsy was under way.

Smith arrived Saturday night in the Bahamas and apparently went directly to the hospital where he spent the night, Ferguson said.

“It would appear from our report that the mother had gotten up, saw him in the chair and he appeared to be sound asleep,” he said. “She tried to wake him up, he was unresponsive, and she sounded the alarm.”

Medical personnel arrived and pronounced him dead at the scene, Ferguson said.

Anna Nicole Smith, 38, gave birth to a healthy 6-pound, 9-ounce girl at the hospital Thursday, her Web site said.

“Anna Nicole is absolutely devastated by the loss of her son. He was her pride and joy and an amazing human being,” a statement on the site said. It said that drugs or alcohol were not believed to be a factor.

Her son had traveled to the Caribbean country “to share in the joy of his baby sister,” the statement said. “Please do not make any press inquiries at this time so that Anna Nicole can grieve in peace.”

Daniel Smith was the product of Smith’s 1985 marriage to Billy Smith. The couple, who met while working together at Jim’s Krispy Fried Chicken in Mexia, Texas, divorced in 1987.

The son had small roles in her movies “Skyscraper” and “To the Limit.”

Robin Bonnema, a spokeswoman for Trimspa, the diet products company that has been endorsed by Smith, said she did not know the name of the baby girl’s father.

Smith married Texas oil tycoon J. Howard Marshall II in 1994, when she was 26 and he was 89. He died the following year.

She then feuded with Marshall’s son, Pierce Marshall, over her entitlement to the tycoon’s estate before he died in June at the age of 67.

In the long-running dispute, Smith had won a $474 million judgment, which was later cut to about $89 million and eventually reduced to zero. In May, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that Smith could continue to pursue the fortune in federal courts in California despite a Texas state court ruling that Marshall’s youngest son was the sole heir.

2006-09-11T07:12:00.000-07:00

The love that once was born cannot die
For it has become part of us, of our life,
Woven into the very texture of our being.
Each of us would wish to leave some part of ourselves,
So here and now we bear witness to the one we knew in life,
Who now in death bequeaths a subtle part, precious and beloved,
Which will be with us in truth and beauty,
In dignity and courage and love
To the end of our days.

--Algernon Black

2006-09-08T13:03:00.000-07:00

PREGNANCY AT ITS FINEST

In honor of my dear friend who is pregnant and awaiting and the impending birth of the Hottest Babies Ever (yes, she is having two--when one of my friends decides to do something, they DO it), I present "How to Have a Baby," courtesy of "Absolutely Fabulous."

When talking about the Miracle of Life, most friends would post some sweet baby fluff filled with fuzzy bunnies and kittens, or duckies--all those baby-type things. Viva is not that kind of friend; further, she is looking forward to being the Wackiest Aunt Ever (lock the liquor cabinet).

This is one of the best episodes ever. "A vile musky whiff of fecundity in the air." The dialogue is genius.

It really is the Best Show Ever. The Best Show Ever for the Cutest Soon-To-Be Newborns Ever!!!

2006-09-08T12:41:00.000-07:00

AS MY BIRTHDAY APPROACHES ...

I like to remind myself how really, fucking ancient I am (yes, the "fucking" was necessary). Stuff like this reminds me how long I've been alive, and how my bones are slowly turning to dust.

But as old as I am, these guys are way older. And aside from JT, who remains perpetually hot, time has not been kind to them either.

I always loved this song though. It makes no sense whatsoever, but it's catchy.

Duran was like that. None of their songs make any sense. Simon called it his "artistic vision" or what have you. And the videos--what the hell? Acid trips, every one. It's all part of the New Romantic movement, which I am also old enough to remember.

But guess what, all you young whippersnappers--ankle boots are back in style. HA HA HA. I may have to dig out my "vintage" black suede slouch boots, and grab a fedora. Maybe some tapered leg jeans with zippers at the bottom, paired with a huge button down shirt, with a big pin on the collar. Maybe a Forenza sweater vest over it!!! And bright blue eyeliner AND bright blue mascara, just like Donna Mills from Knots Landing. And, of course, lots of Aquanet. Nothing speaks of my formative years more than Aquanet. The smell of it still gives me flashbacks.

Oh you know you used it too. If you are a geezer like me, anyway. IF YOU'VE NEVER HAD BIG HAIR, YOU HAVEN'T LIVED.

2006-09-08T12:04:00.000-07:00

THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY, FRIDAY EDITION

Most days, I live a normal quiet life of simple pleasures. But every once in a while, the Lord Baby Jesus throws me a bone. Today is one of those days. Lohan was robbed ( it's always smart to wander off and leave your $5000 Birkin bag, most likely stuffed with coke and dildos, on the baggage cart when departing from an international airport), and as everyone knows, Paris Herpes, I mean, Hilton, was arrested for DUI. I love this pic because it totally looks like she's being picked up for prostitution. Which I wouldn't put past her either.

Isn't the Lord wonderful??? You know what could make this day a virtual Holy Trinity of Karmic Justice? Jessica Simpson gets speared through the heart by an angry stingray. It wasn't funny when it happened to poor Steve Irwin, but Jessica could make this a laugh riot, while drowning in a pool of her own blood. The chances of this happening again this week is rare, but a girl can dream, can't she? Don't ruin my murderous fantasy! Go, stingray, go!!!!

2006-09-08T11:57:00.000-07:00

FOR WHATEVER REASON...

When I saw this picture of Xtina, I had a flashback to "Village of the Damned." See the resemblance? Her eyes are strangely demonic. Like she is saying, "My name is Christina Aguilera and I love to make hit records and wear skimpy outfits.

Oh and consume your immortal soul."

Very unnerving.

2006-09-06T14:37:00.000-07:00

VIVA'S CONTRIBUTION TO GLOBAL WARMING

Sorry the posts have been shit today--Viva is awash in approximately 5 jillion new projects and will likely never see the light of day again. She is hauling ass to make the payments on her fun new car. Oh yes indeedy. In "Enviromental Warrior News," I have done my part to add craploads of emissions into the atmosphere, ensuring that the polar ice caps will melt into the sea and cause the ocean levels to rise about 20 feet. In short, my new car may very well sink NYC and Florida. Harried New Yorkers will have to wear scuba gear to get downtown. Real estate will continue to cost too much goddamned money in Gotham, regardless--I bet an underwater studio will still run $3K a month--they'll advertise it as having an "ocean view." Fuckers.

But I digress.

Anyhow, here is the new ride, the tricked out Nissan Pathfinder SE, with a bunch of bells and whistles I will probably never use.. A swanky little vehicle, ain't it? Actually, it is pretty damned big, and I feel like I am comandeering a truck when I barrel down the road. But I look snazzy and that is all that matters. Who cares if it gets 2 miles to the gallon? Who cares if it has baby sealskin hubcabs, and represents the worst in bloated American consumerism? It's Ipod compatible! Whoo hoo!!!!!

2006-09-05T19:35:00.000-07:00

I STILL DON'T BUY IT

It's a sad state of affairs when a baby has to be photoshopped within an inch of her life. I hold fast to my opinion that they built her in the lab. And what is with the fur on the kid's head? Watch, God will smote me big time, and give me a baby with more hair on its head than a chinchilla as punishment for picking on this innocent kid, but whatever. Fur is for monkeys. Maybe the Thetans used monkey DNA to give baby Suri an authentic swarthy look, so that people might believe she is biologically related to Tom and Katie? We will never know. At least this kid isn't as ugly as Heidi Klum and Seal's monkey baby (and they are pregnant again, so let's say a collective prayer that the next one is not nearly as unfortunate-looking as Baby Henry).

I want the un-retouched photos! You know, the ones that show the gills on the sides of Suri's head. Bring 'em forward!

2006-09-04T07:27:00.000-07:00

CRIKEY!!!!

I just heard about legendary "Crocodile Hunter" Steve Irwin biting the big one, and instantly thought that one of those crocodiles he so loved to annoy finally pulled one over on him, and got a good chomp through his carotid artery. Not so. The Croc Hunter met his maker while swimming in the ocean and somehow managing to get himself impaled by a stingray--right through the heart no less. You know that's gotta hurt. Apparently, it is a rare and exceptionally freakish way to die, so I think Steve must be pleased with that, from the Great Beyond. How many people do you know who crapped out because they were speared by a stingray? Not many. That's one for the record books.

What gets me about his death, is basically the same problem I have with most kooky conservationalists out there, who go all preachy and batty and try to "commune" with the animals, be they crocodiles, or gorillas, or cranky brown bears (remember the stupid nutjob who thought the nice brown bears were his "friends" and then got himself and his girlfriend torn to bits by one of his buddies out in Alaska?)--Folks, these are wild animals. Wild animals with Big Sharp Teeth and poor personal communication skills. Or 10 inch long barbs that pierce through hearts. These animals do not want to be friends with you, or hang out and have a Corona. They want to be left alone, or, perhaps, they want to turn you into a happy meal. Either way, they will fuck your shit up, as it were, and you'd be wise to steer clear of them. Steve learned that the hard way.

I really don't feel all that bad for Steve Irwin. He knew the risks of tempting the fates with these wild animals, and today he drew the short stick. Shit happens. I DO however, have mucho sympathy for his wife and two kids, who will grow up without a dad, thanks to a panicked stingray. Senseless and completely avoidable, but what can you do? Life is wacky like that. RIP Steve and his clingy khaki shorts (crikey, indeed!)

From MSNBC

CAIRNS, Australia - Steve Irwin, the hugely popular Australian television personality and conservationist known as the “Crocodile Hunter,” was killed Monday by a stingray while filming off the Great Barrier Reef. He was 44.

Irwin was at Batt Reef, off the remote coast of northeastern Queensland state, shooting a segment for a series called “Ocean’s Deadliest” when he swam too close to one of the animals, which have a poisonous bard on their tails, his friend and colleague John Stainton said.

“He came on top of the stingray and the stingray’s barb went up and into his chest and put a hole into his heart,” said Stainton, who was on board Irwin’s boat at the time.

Crew members aboard the boat, Croc One, called emergency services in the nearest city, Cairns, and administered CPR as they rushed the boat to nearby Low Isle to meet a rescue helicopter. Medical staff pronounced Irwin dead when they arrived a short time later, Stainton said.

Irwin was famous for his enthusiasm for wildlife and his catchword “Crikey!” in his television program “Crocodile Hunter.” First broadcast in Australia in 1992, the program was picked up by the Discovery network, catapulting Irwin to international celebrity.

He rode his image into a feature film, 2002’s “The Crocodile Hunters: Collision Course” and developed the wildlife park that his parents opened, Australia Zoo, into a major tourist attraction.

“The world has lost a great wildlife icon, a passionate conservationist and one of the proudest dads on the planet,” Stainton told reporters in Cairns. “He died doing what he loved best and left this world in a happy and peaceful state of mind. He would have said, ’Crocs Rule!”’

'A huge loss to Australia'
Prime Minister John Howard, who hand-picked Irwin to attend a gala barbecue to honor President Bush when he visited in 2003, said he was “shocked and distressed at Steve Irwin’s sudden, untimely and freakish death.”

“It’s a huge loss to Australia,” Howard told reporters. “He was a wonderful character. He was a passionate environmentalist. He brought joy and entertainment and excitement to millions of people.”

Irwin, who made a trademark of hovering dangerously close to untethered crocodiles and leaping on their backs, spoke in rapid-fire bursts with a thick Australian accent and was almost never seen without his uniform of khaki shorts and shirt and heavy boots.

His ebullience was infectious and Australian officials sought him out for photo opportunities and to promote Australia internationally.

Irwin’s public image was dented, however, in 2004 when he caused an uproar by holding his infant son in one arm while feeding large crocodiles inside a zoo pen. Irwin claimed at the time there was no danger to the child, and authorities declined to charge Irwin with violating safety regulations.

Later that year, he was accused of getting too close to penguins, a seal and humpback whales in Antarctica while making a documentary. Irwin denied any wrongdoing, and an Australian Environment Department investigation recommended no action be taken against him.

Stingrays have a serrated, toxin-loaded barb, or spine, on the top of their tail. The barb, which can be up to 10 inches long, flexes if a ray is frightened. Stings usually occur to people when they step on or swim too close to a ray and can be excruciatingly painful but are rarely fatal, said University of Queensland marine neuroscientist Shaun Collin.

'Extraordinarily bad luck'
Collin said he suspected Irwin died because the barb pierced under his ribcage and directly into his heart.

“It was extraordinarily bad luck. It’s not easy to get spined by a stingray and to be killed by one is very rare,” Collin said.

News of Irwin’s death spread quickly, and tributes flowed from all quarters of society.

At Australia Zoo at Beerwah, south Queensland, floral tributes were dropped at the entrance, where a huge fake crocodile gapes. Drivers honked their horns as they passed.

“Steve, from all God’s creatures, thank you. Rest in peace,” was written on a card with a bouquet of native flowers.

“We’re all very shocked. I don’t know what the zoo will do without him. He’s done so much for us, the environment and it’s a big loss,” said Paula Kelly, a local resident and volunteer at the zoo, after dropping off a wreath at the gate.

Stainton said Irwin’s American-born wife Terri, from Eugene, Ore., had been informed of his death, and had told their daughter Bindi Sue, 8, and son Bob, who will turn 3 in December.

The couple met when she went on vacation in Australia in 1991 and visited Irwin’s Australia Zoo; they were married six months later. Sometimes referred to as the “Crocodile Huntress,” she costarred on her husband’s television show and in his 2002 movie.

2006-09-02T05:45:00.000-07:00

JESSICA, YOU MAY WANT TO TAKE NOTES

This has its moments of being a little oversung (yelled) and whatnot, but man, can this chick SING. I like Christina. There's no one out there like her, and what an instrument. JEALOUS!

2006-09-02T05:37:00.000-07:00

JESSICA SIMPSON IS A MAJOR TALENT

And don't you say otherwise. I mean, it takes a lot of primping to sound just this shitty.

2006-09-01T09:11:00.000-07:00

IF YOU'RE CONSIDERING SUICIDE

This could be the video that finally makes you pull the trigger.

Enjoy.

2006-09-01T08:45:00.000-07:00

THE ONLY NON-SUCKY PERFORMANCE AT THE VMAs

Viva used to like 'em young, and Justin, well, the man is pretty edible. He needs to ditch PockMark (Cameron) though. I hear they are on the outs anyway. He he. Plus, the man can dance. There is nothing better than a man with rythym. Love him!!!!

2006-09-01T08:34:00.000-07:00

THE VMAs SUCKED ASS

Like hairy man-ass. Who knew Jack Black could be so spectacularly unfunny? Who knew that the categories like "Best Cellphone Ring" could showcase just how irrelevant this show has become? Who knew J. Lo was channeling Norma Desmond with the silver skullcap and matching dress?

In short, everyone and everything sucked and I am happy to be an old codger who grew up during a time when the VMAs were actually cool.

One highpoint (and there appeared to be only one) was Justin Timberlake. People who know Viva know I love me my boy bands, and dude, if that "Sexyback" isn't catchy! It just makes me want to do shots and cage dance. Viva loves the cage dancing, hand blisters and forehead bruises and all. Listen to Sexyback here.

2006-08-31T05:46:00.000-07:00

THE BRILLIANCE OF "SOUTH PARK"

With the publishing of the John Travolta Big Gay Pic, I thought this was fitting. And totally hysterical. Watch John Travolta and Tom Cruise "trapped in the closet." R. Kelly shows up for good measure.

Cackle, cackle, cackle....

2006-08-31T05:25:00.000-07:00

SOMEBODY NEEDS A BIG GAY AUDIT

In the most shocking news since discovering the earth is round, the sky is blue, and global warming is causing the polar ice caps to melt, the upcoming Enquirer is publishing this picture of John Travolta giving a "close male friend" a hearty hello (or good-bye, or "please pull your pants down and show me your winky!").

Sure this guy could be European, or maybe Canadians (the photo was taken in Toronto) are freaky-deeks and like to kiss. But enough stories have circulated throughout the years about Travolta horrifying male massuers that make me think otherwise.

Whatever will the Scientologists say? They are not big on this gay shit, and may demote him, or better yet, put him in one of those "cleansing" programs to de-gay him. Again. Paging Tom Cruise! But anyhow....

Not only do I 100% think he is gay, I also think the Wifey (Kelly Preston) knows it too. But hey, she is swimming in Lear Jets and more money than most of us will ever see in a lifetime. If I met a nice guy who was totally loaded, who would throw me some sperm for a kid or two, set me up for life AND watch "Mommie Dearest" with me, I'd put up with a "Good friend named Steve" too. It's all good.

2006-08-30T09:32:00.000-07:00

Because Everyone Needs a Little Shatner

For whatever reason, I love this man. He's so completely enamored with himself. It's brilliant! It's classic amusement for the ages! It's "Things That Make You Go 'WTF'?"

Love Live Shatner.

2006-08-30T08:40:00.000-07:00

IT'S ALL SMOKE AND MIRRORS....

Can I get a Photoshop expert to follow me around? Because, I seriously need their services. I just got back some recent pictures of my haggard self wherein I realized, in horror, I have grown a Ned--half neck, half head, all bad--similar to a MOG (half man, half dog--come on, there have to be some "Space Balls" dorks out there), but I am not, in any way, my own best friend. Any semblance of a jawline that I used to have has all but disappeared. As I eat this crumbcake I just made, I wonder where it went??? Now, if I had me a retoucher, he could swipe all that shit away, and make my all thin and hot again. Just like Katie Couric. Or her retouched picture. Bitch looks good!

From The New York Post

August 30, 2006 -- Talk about a miracle diet - Katie Couric has become the Incredible Shrinking Anchorwoman.
Thanks to a computer "slight" of hand, the Tiffany network has made the new face of "CBS Evening News" instantly drop about 20 pounds.
In a picture widely distributed to the media last month, a normal-looking Couric wore a frumpy light gray suit and her trademark smile.
But thanks to Photoshop, the popular editing software, the same photo, printed in a CBS magazine, shows her looking much, much thinner - and her suit has become a few shades darker.
Couric, who was made aware of the picture's alteration yesterday, joked that she liked the original better.
"There's more of me to love," she quipped.
The picture was taken in May when Couric, 49, appeared at the CBS "Upfront" presentation at Carnegie Hall.
It was later widely distributed by CBS as an official photo of its new $15 million-a-year anchor- woman.
Then the computer generated version appeared in the latest quarterly edition of Watch!
It's produced and edited by the CBS press department and distributed to network employees, news-media outlets, affiliates, network gift shops and Paramount-owned theme parks.
Network officials say the magazine has a circulation of around 400,000.
"The picture was retouched without the knowledge of Ms. Couric or CBS News management," a CBS spokesman said.
As far as the magazine goes, an insider insisted the publication was just following normal industry practice when it shrunk Couric.
He claimed that just about all magazines tinker with photos - even though some top photographers and photo editors at news organizations have lost their jobs in recent times for doing just that.
Most media experts say that whenever a photo is altered in any way, the public should be alerted, although it's more of a problem if it occurs at newsmagazines rather than a magazine a company publishes about itself.
A top health expert joked that if Couric dropped the weight as rapidly as she appeared to, it would have cost her an arm or a leg - literally.
"Besides Photoshop, the only other way to lose 20 pounds in a matter of seconds would be to hack off a limb," joked Samantha Heller, the senior clinical nutritionist at NYU Medical Center.
"I mean, liposuction is pretty fast - but that takes longer since you have to prep for surgery and everything."
On a more serious note, she said, "Of course the healthy way to do it wouldn't be fast.
"If you lose weight too quickly it scares your body - the body is not designed to lose weight quickly. [Instead], cut back on the junk, pretty standard stuff. Katie could eat more vegetables, cut down on carbs and increase her exercise," said Heller.
"I know she has a trainer because she talked about it [when she was on 'Today'] so she could have the trainer pump up her exercise a bit."

2006-08-25T11:06:00.000-07:00

Because I can......

You may tire of Patsy and Eddy, but I never will. NEVER!!!!!!!

This is the episode where Saffrom writes a play about the two most wonderfully dysfunctional women in the world.

2006-08-25T10:25:00.000-07:00

THAT WHICH DOES NOT KILL US....

makes my head hurt instead.

Viva USED to be able to drink. She could throw down with the best of them, when she was young, thinner, and had a liver more bouncy than a new pair of Nikes. Life was good then, and the birds chirped and the world was a happy place.

But the passage of time can humble even the most prolific drinker. Especially one who has traveled the road of All Night Benders in the City all the way to Sobriety and Sweatpants in the Suburbs.

Time is not on my side, I am afraid.

Viva celebrated her Bachelor Girl freedom by heading out to happy hour with a dear friend last night. During the course of the evening, Viva learned four important things:

1. Cosmos sort of taste like lighter fluid unless you are really drunk (then they taste like watery lighter fluid)
2. Do not mix Cosmos with beer.
3. A 2 a.m. stop at the grocery store for frozen "stuffed potato skins," "mozzerella sticks" and "chicken taquitos" (and a cookie) is not probably not a good idea.
4. Eating said frozen items in a barely warmed state at 2:30 a.m. is an even worse idea.

Somehow I managed to walk the dog, clean the kitchen, take off my makeup and remove my contacts in my inebriated state, so score one for maturity. Sort of.

Anyhow, whatever brain cells I can cull today have to be used for actual work. In short, posting will be shit, while I conquer the shakes and head for McDonalds.

Bachelor Girl Week is officially over on Sunday, but Viva plans to nurse her wounds on the couch with happy hair for the remainder. Viva is a crappy bachelor girl.

It's not easy to get old.

2006-08-24T11:42:00.000-07:00

SPEAKING OF DENIS LEARY.....

I still will sing this tune around the house. You'd be amazed at how many situations this song is really, truly appropriate for! I'm an asshole-e-o-e-ooooooooo-le!

Brilliant. Love him.

2006-08-24T10:52:00.000-07:00

EVERYBODY LOVES A 9/11 WIDOW

Oh Brucey Bruce-Bruce. What are you thinking? Jersey's finest has done gone and fetched himself a 9/11 widow (who apparently happens to be a hottie, surprise, surprise) much to the chagrin of his wife of 20 years, Patti Scialfa. Patti, you take that man to the CLEANERS, girl!

I remember reading in the New York Times about how NYC firemen (who survived the attacks) were dumping their very pissed-off wives and taking off with their fallen "brothers'" widows, and thought that was pretty sketchy. They even covered this in one of my most favorite shows, Rescue Me. God, I love Denis Leary. He's one I'd like to set a little house fire for, and wait for him to show up and.... Wait, where was I? Oh yes, real-life firemen being idiots. But, you know, in a tragedy of this sort of proportion, shit happens. Men have been falling for the "Damsel in Distress" crap since the beginning of time.

Et tu, Bruce? Et tu?

I can never listen to "Thunder Road" the same way again.

What's next? I bet Bono is going to dump his wife Ali and run off some scabby Lebanese refugee who lives under the roof of a rusty '62 Plymouth Fury, and subsists on a diet of dried dung beetles and donkey milk. You know it could happen, and then he'll write a whole album about it. Bono is all sorts of batshit for those swarthy ethnic women. I bet "swarthy ethnic refugee women" will be the new "Ethiopian Orphan" for 2007. It'll be the latest Must-Have accessory. Better than a Birkin! Angelina will be first in line to adopt one, and make it wear a vial of her blood around its neck.

FromThe New York Post

August 24, 2006 -- BRUCE Springsteen is born to run - from marriage.
Several sources have told The Post that the superstar who wrote "Hungry Heart" and his second wife of almost 20 years, Patti Scialfa, are on the rocks and virtually living separate lives.

Part of the problem seems to be a friendship Springsteen developed with a stunning 9/11 widow The Boss is said to have met when he organized the "America: A Tribute to Heroes" telethon.

"They're separated, but everyone has been sworn to secrecy," one pal of the couple told The Post's Jeane MacIntosh. "We're not supposed to talk about it."

Springsteen and the woman - who is a redhead, just like Scialfa - have been spotted several times at the Beacon Hill Beach Club in Monmouth, N.J., said one local source. The two have also been spotted at the Stone Pony, the Asbury Park watering hole from Springsteen's Glory Days.

The widow is said to be a member of the swank Atlantic Club gym in Red Bank. Her children attend the exclusive Ranney School in Tinton Falls with Springsteen's kids.

But a Bruce pal said, "He's just a really big flirt. There's nothing going on." Another friend said, "Bruce and Patti are very much partners. They go at it a lot and fight, but they also work at it a lot . . . Patti is a strong woman. They are not going anywhere."

Springsteen and Scialfa vacationed with their children in upstate New York last month, but in recent weeks, he has been spotted alone with his kids at a local beach. Pals said he's been spending less time at the family's Rumson home and more time at a guest house on the couple's farm in Colts Neck, about 20 minutes away. Springsteen is said to have attended his daughter Jessica's eighth-grade graduation solo and spent a lot of time with Robert De Niro at a beach in Atlantic Highlands.

Scialfa's mom, Victoria Scialfa, told us, "I don't know anything about it; I don't want to talk about it." A representative for Springsteen, who was married to Julianna Phillips when he started seeing Scialfa in 1987, declined comment.

2006-08-24T10:31:00.000-07:00

ONE BULLET COULD HAVE MADE THE WORLD A HAPPIER PLACE

Fellow American Idol dorks like myself will remember the Most Annoying Contestant Ever, Mikalah "Bastard Child of Fran Drescher and Barbara Streisand" Jordon. Apparently, she was robbed at gunpoint yesterday. Before you go all crazy on me, I am not saying Mikalah should be murdered. But would it have killed the robbers to put a bullet in her throat while making off with her measly $5 and cell phone? I mean, they had the chance of a lifetime there, and they blew it. We could have lived in a world where that big-nosed abcess would never speak again. A world of blessed silence.

Now we're going to see this bitch whining about her panic attack and near-death experience on Entertainment Tonight. Ovah and ovah. I need a Vicodin.

From Oh No They Didn't!

Local "American Idol" contestant Mikalah Gordon is "lucky she's alive" after being assaulted during a robbery at gunpoint at 3:30 a.m. Wednesday, her mother said.

Gordon, 18, was taking a break from recording music when a man pointing a gun approached her and a male friend, Gordon's mother, Victoria Cavaricci, said Wednesday.

Three other men came up, and Gordon was ordered to lie on her back on the sidewalk.

Gordon, who was 16 when she reached the finals of the 2005 "American Idol" competition, told her mother that her head was slammed on the sidewalk by an assailant who was angry that she had looked at his face.

As her assailants groped her, Gordon had a panic attack that may have saved her, Cavaricci said, adding, "She thought she was going to die."

"She's scarred and scared, but it could have been so much worse," Cavaricci said. "Police said she's so lucky she's alive."

Las Vegas police spokesman Bill Cassell confirmed that the robbery occurred. The police are still investigating it, he said.

Cavaricci gave the location as near Nellis Boulevard and Washington Avenue. The robbers got away with a cell phone and $5 in cash, she said.

Gordon was putting together songs she planned to sing this weekend at a benefit in Orange County, Calif., for kids with cancer.

The precocious teen, whose "Nanny"-like nasal tones drew comparison to Fran Drescher, landed a guest-starring role on Drescher's sitcom, "Living With Fran."

Earlier this year, supermodel Tyra Banks hired Gordon to be a correspondent for "The Tyra Banks Show."

Gordon also has been working on a project with "Idol" judge Randy Jackson, a music producer, Cavaricci said.

2006-08-24T10:19:00.000-07:00

PEOPLE WHO ANNOY THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF ME, EDITION 13: MARIAH CAREY

Sigh. Yes, Mimi, you can sing.
You have an amazing voice, and what a comeback, yadda yadda.

But bitch you are 36 years old! Nobody needs to see your junk in the trunk, no matter how much you might think otherwise. Really. You are not 18. Release the delusions within. Even Paris Hilton knew to step away from the Ho Clothes (though not the Ho) by the tender age of 25.

In short, you are old enough to know better than to step on stage in get-ups that scream for Nutrisystem. Put some clothes on already.

I think you need Tommy Mottola to come over and smack that big ass back of yours back into a pair of pants that both cover and fit you properly, with a shirt that keeps the old gals in check and not flopping willy nilly in a sequin bra.

And enough with the goddamned butterflies. No, I don't see any in these pictures, but I know they are there somewhere. You've been warned.

2006-08-23T10:36:00.000-07:00

LEFT TO MY OWN DEVICES ...

Let's see. the husband is still plowing around Shreveport, Louisiana and the surrounding environs for work. Today, he is up near Arkansas. Yippee Kay Yay! Observations thus far, from the front lines:

Lousiana is very, very, very hot, or "fucking hot," if you will.

The casinos in Shreveport are dead--empty and filled with seniors about one heart attack away from the Great Beyond.

The bugs are bigger. Much bigger.

Did I mention the heat?

The most populated place in Shreveport appears to be the local Wendy's Restaurant.

Everything is spicy.

Spicy foods are not kind to one's gastrointestinal tract.

This only reinforces my desire to keep my fat ass planted firmly in New York State, with its cranky people, nasty winters, and high taxes.

Anyhow, whilst the husband is making friends with Bobby Bouchet and his pet mule, I am here living like a bachelor woman. I can do whatever I want. WHOO HOO!!!! FREEDOM. The dog and I are besides ourselves.

Here has been my crazy-ass week thus far:

Sunday: Power-cleaned the house. I vacuumed, I mopped, I dusted, I scrubbed. A bachelor girl needs a spotless house for all the parties she is going to have, right? Chinese for dinner. Bed.

Monday: To shower or not to shower? Screw shower. I plant myself in my office in my pjs for 9 hours and don't move. Leftover Chinese food for dinner. Bed.

Tuesday: Okay, I really need a shower now. Shower and change out of pjs into slightly nicer happy pants. Look at work to do, and clean house again. Dog looks sullen. Baked Lays for dinner, bed.

Wednesday: Still in jammies, doritoes for breakfast and lunch, hiding in office, with dog underfoot looking for dorito crumbs. Vowing to shower before 3.

This is my hot week alone. Fortunately, I have a real dinner coming tonight. If I look at another chip, my stomach may team up with Pete Doherty's liver and evacuate.

I'll keep you all posted on the madness as it happens. Don't all be too jealous now. Par-tee.

2006-08-23T10:18:00.000-07:00

PEOPLE WHO SHOULD ANNOY THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF ME, BUT DON'T, EDITION 2: PETE DOHERTY

This guy is a mess, I know. I mean, how many times can one guy get arrested for drugs, get let out of prison, and get arrested again like five minutes later with smack? Every time you turn around, this guy is in the clink. His skin is yellow, which means his liver, along with everyone other than Kate Moss, has given up on him. In short, Pete is a trainwreck, complete with blood and unconscious people scattered about. But I sort of like that about him. He obviously is so far gone that he doesn't give a fuck, and there's a certain beauty in his truth (that truth being "I am Pete Doherty, and on any given day I am usually one hit away from death"). If this were the 70s, he'd be Keith Richards. Plus, today he punched a nurse. That's brilliant. Horrible, but brilliant. I wanted to punch a nurse once too, a dipshit one who said my old man was "stable and doing fine," meanwhile all of his organs were shutting down, one by one, and he was dead 4 hours later. Idiots thrive in health care. I wish Pete could have punched THAT nurse too. Riiiiiight in the kidneys. And stabbed her with one of his needles.

But I digress. Back to Pete. Apparently, rehab is not the bed of roses he imagined. Meanwhile Kate is sunning herself in Bali while Pete twitches and sees imaginary scorpions crawling up the walls. ROCK ON PETE.

From The Mirror

PETE CRACKS
He punches nurse in chest
Cries out for girlfriend Kate
Guarded for his protection

PETE Doherty punched a nurse and trashed his own room in a rehab clinic as the out-of-control crack addict went berserk.

The Babyshambles singer - desperately pining for supermodel lover Kate Moss - turned violent after screaming foul-mouthed abuse at a male nurse who told him to attend more therapy sessions for his drug habits

Doherty, 27, punched the medical man, kicked the door and slammed walls with his hands during the tantrum at the Priory clinic on Sunday night.

He screamed: "I don't f***ing want to be here. I've f***ing had enough."

Staff threatened him that if he didn't calm down he would be sedated. Now he has been assigned a security guard to keep him under control as he continues his treatment.

A friend told 3am: "Pete flipped out on Sunday night because he doesn't want to be there and wants to get out. A nurse was trying to encourage him to get more involved in the therapy sessions when Pete suddenly went berserk.

"He was very upset, screaming 'f*** off', and lashed out at the bloke.

"He was told that if he didn't calm down he would be medicated.

"He just kept saying that he didn't want to be there and wasn't going to get involved in anything.

"He started kicking the door and slamming the walls. He said he wanted Kate. As the nurse tried to restrain him he punched him in the chest. He was out of control.

"His behaviour was appalling. Pete's lucky that the nurse was not hurt."

Doherty, who has had an implant fitted to combat his crack and heroin problems, was ordered into the North London clinic by a judge last Friday after he was charged with five counts of possessing drugs. He is under a 10pm to 8am curfew until September 4 when he is due for sentencing.

Judge Alison Rose warned him: "I've granted you bail on three conditions. You must live and sleep at The Priory, and you are to obey a daily curfew."

The magistrate also warned Doherty that he could face a jail sentence. His passport was confiscated after he admitted he was due to leave the country.

Friends tell us the troubled celebrity has become increasingly depressed and lonely.

He misses supermodel Kate who he had planned to join on holiday in the paradise island of Bali There were even reports they had intended to marry there in a spiritual ceremony but that has been denied by Kate's aides.

Kate, 32, who the Daily Mirror exposed last year, as a cocaine snorter is on holiday on the Indonesian island on her own. The couple were reunited two weeks ago at The Rhythm Festival in Clapham, South London.

They were spotted kissing passionately and holding hands backstage and Kate was said to be "overjoyed" at being back in the arms of her junkie lover.

They first got together on her 31st birthday in January 2005 but broke up in the wake of Kate's cocaine scandal.

She went into rehab but ditched Doherty after he quit the same Arizona clinic that treated her. Now the rocker has pledged to kick his heroin addiction for good, vowing: "I'm off the brown. It took me a while to realise but there are people who care about me so I'm doing it for them."

2006-08-23T07:58:00.000-07:00

NOT THAT I AM PROMOTING A NUCLEAR ATTACK

But if there was one, and people had to die, I hope it would be this bitch, her gay, and her little dog too.

Apparently Jessica is releasing her own line of clip-in hair extension, which will be reasonably priced and look like total shit. Paging Tara Reid! You know Tara will be down for this shit. And she's be so drunk, she'll clip them on her vag or something. That might be an improvement, actually. At least the extensions would hide the genital warts.

2006-08-23T07:52:00.000-07:00

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD!!!!!

Tom Cruise isn't dead yet. But Paramount gave him a good smack on the head with a shovel and tossed him in the crazy corpse cart anyway. Seems La Cruise's fake wife (beard), fake baby, and very real psychosis are finally catching up with him. What would Xenu say?

From Reuters

NEW YORK, Aug 22 (Reuters) - Viacom Inc.'s Paramount Pictures unit is ending its 14-year relationship with Tom Cruise's film production company because of the actor's offscreen behavior, the company's chairman said in an interview with the Wall Street Journal.

Sumner Redstone, Viacom chairman, said the behavior of the star of the "Mission: Impossible" series and "Top Gun" was unacceptable to the company, according to the Wall Street Journal story e-mailed to reporters.

Cruise, one of Hollywood's biggest stars, has been known more recently for his antics on U.S. television talk shows, including jumping up and down on Oprah Winfrey's couch to declare his love for Katie Holmes and criticizing the use of antidepressant drugs.

"As much as we like him personally, we thought it was wrong to renew his deal," Redstone was quoted as saying in the Wall Street Journal. "His recent conduct has not been acceptable to Paramount."

Cruise's representatives and officials from Viacom and Paramount did not have any immediate comment on the report.

UPDATE! Camp Cruise responds (from Dlisted):

Paula Wagner, Tom Cruise's producing partner, has spoken out about Paramount Pictures cutting the crazy which was reported yesterday. Paula said that Sumner Redstone's comments were offensive and undignified.

“Whatever remarks Mr. Redstone would make about Tom Cruise personally or as an actor have no bearing on what this business issue is. I don't understand why this would be turned into a personal attack. Because that's what it is. That's letting one of your greatest assets walk out the door. It looks like bad business to me."

"There must be another agenda that the studio has in mind to take one of their greatest assets and malign him this way. We in fact made a decision not to continue our relationship with Paramount Pictures,"

Paula claims that they decided to produce independently and they quit and weren't fired.

"For some reason, Paramount has chosen to negotiate in the press. It's not really the most businesslike approach. We've had virtually no dealings with Mr. Redstone."

2006-08-21T09:19:00.000-07:00

THINGS I LOVE

You know what I love? I love it when people I hate with a passion look like total shit. It's wonderful. It makes me feel alive and bouncy again. Puts a spring in my step, if you will.

Messica Simpson managed to look like total CRAPPYCAKES at the Teen Choice Awards, with the weight gain, the unevenly inflated lips, the man-chin. Dane Cook is probably wondering why he ever stuck his wee-wee in her in the first place. Meanwhile, Nick looked great, and probably wiped his brow in relief after seeing what he could have been stuck with for the rest of his life. Well, AFTER he backed the Brinks truck up to her house and took half her money.

2006-08-18T07:48:00.000-07:00

VIVA VERSUS THE BAYOU, PART I

Viva hates Shreveport, Louisiana.

Well, not really. I mean, it could be a nice place. A nice hot, sticky, fire-ant filled place located just a hop, skip, and a jump from Texas and Arkansas. I bet it is diverse. I bet it is filled with culture. I bet they hold Pride Fests every weekend.

Why am I giving Shreveport the business? Well, Old Viva here is married to a workhorse and that, in and of itself, is a good thing. Mr. Workhorse has just gotten himself some recognition for another job well done, and now his bosses want to send him off to Shreveport, LoWeeeeziana for a week to "save" one of their operations down yonder. All this sounds well and good, but Mr. Workhorse's company has a penchant for transferring people willy-nilly.

My apologies to all the good people of Shreveport for the following rant, but there is NO WAY IN GOD'S GREEN EARTH that Viva is moving her tired ass to Lousiana. For one, I don't like heat, humidity, big weird bugs, hurricanes, or Kenny Chesney. Although I do like crawfish and voodoo IS sort of funky. But I digress. I do not want to be neighbors with Britney Spears. I will be the oldest childless woman in the entire state. I think they can lynch women for not wanting to breed, can't they? Regardless, Viva does not want to find out. Where would she get Botox? Where is the closest Pottery Barn? In flipping TEXAS, that's where.

Dear Lord Baby Jesus, please keep my child-free, cosmetic-loving, fag-haggin self out of Shreveport, Lousiana.

2006-08-18T07:18:00.000-07:00

HE MAY LOOK LIKE JESUS, BUT
HE SMELLS LIKE HELL

According to PopBitch, the Butterscotch Stallion (that's Owen Wilson to those of you who don't know better) may not be the only reason why Kate Hudson and Chris Robinson's marriage failed. Read on:

Three times a lady: Kate & Chris's Hollywood Heartbreak
Speculation surrounding the end of Kate Hudson and Chris Robinson's marriage seems to be focusing on her close friendship with Owen Wilson. But there were longer-term issues. Like many rocks singers, Chris is fond of group sex and threesomes while on tour, and Black Crowes insiders had often seen Chris and Kate heading to their hotel with a keen groupie or fan in
tow. But by the end of the last tour Kate was said to be tagging along like a turkey on its way to Christmas lunch.

Come on people. I can't imagine one woman wanting to fuck Chris Robinson, much less two. Does personal hygiene mean nothing anymore? I mean LOOK AT THAT MAN. You know he is a bony, smelly mess naked and how often does he wash his hair? Or his beard? Or the smelly fishpit that must be his crotch? If Kate had to share all this with another woman, then they are both assholes.

Personally, I hope she is nailing Owen. For all his snarkiness, bumpy nosed, nasally voiced affections, he is STILL a huge step up from Robinson. For one, he bathes. And he has much better clothes. Upgrade!!!

2006-08-16T15:50:00.000-07:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY VADGE!!!!!!

Our favorite bitch is 48 today. Here's some vintage Madonna to celebrate this momentous occasion! VIVA LA MADONNA!!!!

2006-08-16T09:48:00.000-07:00

THANK YOU LORD BABY JESUS FOR PATSY

This IS just WONDERFUL!!!!!!

God I love this woman. She bloody rocks. She is an inspiration for all women. Kneel down and kiss those stilettoes in subjugation, bitches.

2006-08-10T05:48:00.000-07:00

NOT DEAD, STILL FUCKED THOUGH

Bear with me, people. Another few days, and there will be posts anew. I've missed so much, yet I know deep within my heart that those rascaly celebrities will continue screwing up their lives and giving me plenty of great material.

2006-07-19T06:32:00.000-07:00

VIVA IS GOING ON HIATUS

Sometimes in life, the things you love to do, are the things that pay the least. Which is why you don't see old Viva calling herself an actress. Do I stil act? Sure? Do I ever get paid for it? Fuck, no. Bastards.

However, I do get paid for being an editor, so that IS what I call myself and frankly folks, I am swamped up the ass right now with work. This is a good thing when you are a freelancer, but a bad thing when you are trying to blog and write a book on the side. So something's gotta give.

I am leaving admist a celebrity hodgpodge of scandal, between Christie, Peter, and the 19-year-old Southampton Lolita, Dave, Carmen, and his eyeliner, Britney's latest letter of "I Love Tigers" truth, Pam and Kid Rock getting married. It's a cornucopia of gossip goodness! More bastards.

Anyhow, I appreciate all of you fine folks coming by every day (even though none of you fuckers ever leave comments), and I hate to take a break when I am building some momentum, but I have to pay the bills too.

I should dig myself out from under this hole by early August. Until then, stay sexy.

Namaste,

Viva

2006-07-18T07:45:00.000-07:00

THE BEST THING FOR PIMPLES? COCAINE!

Lindsay Lohan hawks Proactiv, after they promise to pay her in kilos of the white stuff. She stays skinny and twitchy, and Proactiv has another celebrity moron on their payroll--EVERYBODY WINS!

2006-07-16T11:35:00.000-07:00

THERE ARE NO WORDS....

2006-07-15T12:35:00.000-07:00

FLAVOR OF SLUT

Hoopz, New York, and Red Oyster, fuck, even HOTTIE look like English Royalty compared to these crackheads. God I love "Flavor of Love"! I hope Gitta makes another cameo. YAY!!!

Loves it!

2006-07-14T10:26:00.000-07:00

POLL TIME!

Since I can't get any of you visitors to comment for shit (are you ashamed to be visiting my page? ARE YOU!?!? Uh huh, I thought so), I figured why not give you hags something easy. Like a poll. Who doesn't love a poll?

Have at it.

2006-07-14T08:14:00.000-07:00

SPEAKING OF LIZA

She's another person I totally love. She's batshit crazy, totally damaged, perpetually drug and alcohol-addled, yo-yoing in weight, has hips of steel (and titanium), and has a penchant for marrying gay men. In short, she's a woman I want to cook a brisket with.

I love that, no matter how fat, or smacked-up she is on drugs, or how many lawsuits are pending against her by her crazy ex-husbands (Gest, I am talking about you--asshole), the woman ALWAYS COMES BACK. Forget Cher surviving a nuclear bomb with cockroaches, LIZA would not only survive a nuclear holocaust, the bitch probably wouldn't even realize one had happened in the first place. She'd be too busy looking for that bottle of vodka she hid in the closet.

This is a video of her performing with Queen. I love it. Every queen's idol performing with Queen.

Say what you want about her, but the lady can sing.

Long Live LIZA!

2006-07-14T08:08:00.000-07:00

ANOTHER GAY MOVIE!!!!

Coming to a theater near you (har de har har har). The gays take on "American Pie" and prove that they can be just as crass and silly as we heteros. But who wants pie when you could have quiche???

I so totally want to see this. It looks fabulous!!! I wonder if Joan Crawford will make an appearance? I know she's dead, but a girl can dream.

Liza better be in here somewhere. A gay movie should not be allowed to be made without Liza!!! LOVE HER!

2006-07-14T07:00:00.000-07:00

MATT LEINART GETS HERPES--AND WE GET TO WATCH

Nothing like watching the passage of an STD in action, eh? Hollywood's most famous herpified starlet passes "the gift that keeps on giving" along to her latest "squeeze of the nanosecond," Matt Leinart. Look how his eyes are wide with fear--classic. He'll be itching and oozing all the way back to Arizona. Yummy. Valtrex, baby! It's what's for breakfast!

2006-07-14T06:50:00.000-07:00

TIME HAS NOT BEEN KIND TO SHANNEN DOHERTY

I guess all that bitch slapping and drunk driving can take a lot out of a girl, eh? Too bad Aaron Spelling is dead: Now he can't hire and fire her for any more of his TV shows.

She will forever be Brenda for me: "DY-LAN! ( big angry sigh)" I will probably like her no matter how crappy she gets to look. It's not like Jennie Garth or Tori Spelling are winning any beauty paegants these days either, you know.

2006-07-14T06:46:00.000-07:00

NINE INCH NAILS OF COLLEGIATE LUST

This is the one that started it all.

Flashback: 1992. I am 21, drunk, and eating Oodles of Noodles while sitting on the floor in front of the TV, screaming "TREENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNTTTT"

I almost forgot about the "dreads" period. I love me an angry piece of tormented man-ass. LONG LIVE TRENT!!!!

2006-07-14T06:31:00.000-07:00

PEOPLE WHO ANNOY THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF ME, EDITION 12: KATE HUDSON

This is probably only because I am jealous of this skinny "bo-ho rich-as-hell,-marginally talented,-and-aided-by-hollyword-nepotism" bitch, but whatever. You and your skinny husband Chris Robinson are all "rock and roll" --we get it. However:

1. Don't give into "The Maddox Syndrome"--Ryder Russell is old enough to walk on his own. Ditch the baby sling and let the kid have at the pavement.

2. Ryder Russell is a BOY right? I mean, I believe you gave birth to a child with a penis. So cut the kid's fucking hair already. He looks ridiculous and will one day have to work out gender-related issues with a high-priced shrink because of you.

Damn hippies.

2006-07-14T06:26:00.000-07:00

PHOTOSHOP ME BABY, ONE MORE TIME!

Here's an outtake from the Britney Harper's Bazaar photo shoot. I want whoever did the airbrushing to come over and follow me around for a day. Look at her sides. It's creepy! Not quite as creepy as Tom Cruise, "Kate" and (even bigger quotation marks) "Suri " the android baby, but close enough.

2006-07-13T13:15:00.000-07:00

PEOPLE WHO ANNOY THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF ME, EDITION 11: HILARY SWANK

I have hated Hilary Swank ever since her first Oscar acceptance speech. Like, the girl used to guest star on "90210" (oh yes, I remember folks!) and now she is all "High Art" and sanctimonious. I could forgive the first Oscar speech. I even overlooked the second Oscar speech (if I were Clint Eastwood, I would have gotten up and smacked the bitch right on the stage, but Clint is ond and has all those varicose veins taking over his bony legs, so we can forgive him).

Anyhow, what really steams me now is that, all of a sudden, Hilary is on the cover of Vanity Fair and spilling the beans that her marriage ended because her husband was addicted to smack. Okay, she doesn't come right out and SAY cocaine, but Chad Lowe is a Lowe, and those Lowe boys love their powder. Come on, like Rob Lowe was sober when he made that sex tape with the 16-year-old at the 1988 Democratic National Convention (those Democrats are pervs too, eh? They need to hang with Duran Duran).

But anyhow, I digress. I will bash Rob another day. Today is for Hilary. First off, that's a really shitty thing to do, ratting your husband out like that in a national magazine, after all the years he has stood by you and held your purse while trying not to scream out in pain. Why did she do it? For what purpose? So Chad gets a smaller cut of her earnings over the years? To garner public sympathy? To get her ugly ass the cover of the magazine? I think she should shut her big horse mouth and be happy someone had the courage to put up with her smarmy artistic self for so long. Sure, she has nice tits. But they come with THAT MOUTH. That never shuts the fuck up. If I were Chad, I'd be doing lines all day long, just to keep myself high enough to hallucinate that maybe she wasn't there, and the scary voices I was hearing were REALLY in my head.

I hope Hilary's next movie is a huge bust, she gets caught in some horrible scandal involving third-world prostitution trafficking, and the only gigs she gets are future appearances on "90210" reunions, where Shannen Doherty gets drunk and knocks all of her horse teeth out. YAY!!!! GO BRENDA!

2006-07-12T15:14:00.000-07:00

More "High Art"

Since it appears we have fellow Durranie fans here at Vivaville, I've decided to post another Duran video--the classic "Girls on Film"--the UNEDITED version. Yes, the one with the boobies. If you haven't seen it, here's your chance! Boys, grab a tissue. Har har.

I still hold fast to my opinion that those Duran boys were pervs and this video, although tame by today's standards, caused quite the hoopla back in the day. At least in my house.

I wouldn't be me if I didn't have a story to go along with this particular video:

I was 13, and obsessed with All Things Duran. My dad and I were in the local video store one night and I found the Duran Duran video compilation and BEGGED my dad to let me rent it. My father was spent after a two-hour commute home from work and not in the mood to argue with a whiny teenager. He relented and I was rampant with joy.

But of course, this was not good enough for me. Before I watched the video, I told my dad I wanted a copy of the tape. Dinosaurs like me will remember that, back in the day, copying a videotape required the dreaded "Double VCR" set-up--one to play the video, the other to tape what was playing. There were no DVD burners then--no siree. And we walked to school, shoeless, in the snow, uphill, both ways, every day.

Again, my father--tired and wanting a cigarette--relented and went to disentagle our other VCR from my parents' bedroom, cursing quietly all the way up the stairs.

Many wire configurations and "goddamnit"s later, my very grumpy father began copying the video, while I sat in anticipation, not knowing the "surprises" which laid in store. Anyhow, all went well until the "Girls on Film" video came on.

At first, there was an uncomfortable silence when those two chicks in their nighties came across the bridge. My eyes were rounder than moons, and I sucked in my breath sharply. I was going to GET IT for this one. Maybe, I thought in vain, the rest of the video wouldn't be that bad.

My father, until this point, had been commenting on how much makeup Duran Duran were wearing and asking if they were fags. The girl in the see-through panties sliding along the pole covered with whipped cream pretty much answered his question.

More silence ensued, as the cowgirls, sumo sluts, naughty nurses, g-stringed drowning girls, ice-cubed nipples, and boobed-out mud wrestlers crossed the screen. Remember now, I am 13, and watching this with my father. The mortification level, I cannot even tell you. The silence grew even more awkward.

My father's eyebrows raised, and he looked as horrified as I was. As the video ended, he finally spoke.

"What the hell is this crap?"

"Uh, Dad, it's ART!"

"Art?!?! Art, my ass. I spent an hour setting up the VCR to tape trash like this? What the hell is wrong with you?

"But Dad, they're ENGLISH! It's not a big deal over there!"

"Goddamned waste of my time...does your mother know what is on this video???"

To my dad's credit, he never ratted me out to my mother. He also let me keep the video, since he spent about 4 hours trying to figure out how to make a copy in the first place. Ironically enough, I think I only watched it one more time after that. At 13, I had the attention span of a gnat. At 34, I still do.

I still have that videotape somewhere around here--I should put it up on e-bay!

2006-07-12T11:34:00.001-07:00

Another One Bites the Dust

Christie Brinkley and Brigitte Nielsen need to hang out and play canasta. I think these two bitches would totally hit it off!!! Brinkley has separated from her fourth husband, Peter Cook. Personally, I think they looked too much alike--that has to be what killed this love affair. Peter was a step up from husband #3, Rick Taubman who pretty much sold his rights to his son Jack with Brinkley and was an all around shyster. And Billy, God bless him, kept running his cars into trees, which didn't help his looks one bit either. Her first husband was French, and that is enough reason for a divorce right there. Damn Frenchies.

From People Magazine:

Christie Brinkley and her fourth husband, architect Peter Cook, are going their separate ways after 10 years of marriage, the CoverGirl model's rep revealed Tuesday. "Yes, it's true. The couple has separated," publicist Elliot Mintz says in a statement, according to the Associated Press. Brinkley and Cook, 47, who live in New York's tony Hamptons region, have a daughter, Sailor, 8. Brinkley, 52, was previously married to artist Jean-François Allaux (1973-81), singer Billy Joel (1985-94) and developer Richard Taubman (1994-95). She and Joel have a 20-year-old daughter, Alexa, and she and Taubman have an 11-year-old son, Jack, whom Cook adopted after he and Brinkley wed in 1996. "(Christie's) immediate concern is for her children, and she's hoping during this obviously difficult time that people will be kind enough to respect her privacy," Mintz said.

2006-07-11T11:30:00.000-07:00

I LOVE PAULA!!!!!

I am too old to be watching "The Real World. I know that, you don't have to tell me. I was in college when the first season came out, which now makes me really old. Again, no reminders needed. But in the dark recesses of the night, I watch it anyway. Apparently this season's resident FREAK SHOW Paula Meronek just got arrested for beating up her boyfriend. The same boyfriend who was arrested previously, for beating HER up. Can you believe this? His and Her arrests! It's FABULOUS! I think the two of them should have their own reality TV show wherein they beat the shit out of each other on a daily basis--in between Paula's bouts of bulimia and anorexia, of course. And let's not forget about her penchant for alcohol abuse either. God she is great. Paula's boyfriend could string her up like a bony pinata, and have at her with a baseball bat. THAT would be great TV. I need to put a call into Bunam-Murray Productions

From TMZ:

CROMWELL, Conn. (AP) -- A cast member on MTV's "The Real World" was arraigned on a misdemeanor assault charge after police said she bit her boyfriend during a domestic dispute.
Paula Ann Meronek, 25, allegedly bit her boyfriend several times when he refused to let her into their home early Sunday morning, police said. "I think it was an argument that led to one thing then another," said Cromwell Police Chief Anthony Salvatore. "He attempted to keep her from the house. It got physical and we were contacted." Meronek, who was arraigned Monday, was charged with third-degree assault, which carries a potential penalty of a year in prison. She is due back in court Aug. 11. No lawyer was listed in court documents.
Her boyfriend, John Alyward, was charged with disorderly conduct. The arrest was first reported by The Middletown Press. "The Real World," now in its 17th season, puts seven strangers together in an exotic locale -- this time in a Key West, Fla., beach house.
A call to the show's producer was not immediately returned.

2006-07-11T11:25:00.000-07:00

The Coke Spoon Calling the Needle Black

I love nothing more than a an antidrug video sung by a bunch of drug addicts. This is wonderful. WONDERFUL!!! Stop the madness!

2006-07-11T07:59:00.000-07:00

Duran Duran - The Chauffeur

I remember thinking this video was the epitome of high art. I was also 13 at the time. I thought Wham! and A-ha were also high art.

I still love the song, but the video blows ass.

Those Duran men were just a bunch of pervs.

2006-07-11T06:48:00.000-07:00

PEOPLE WHO SHOULD ANNOY THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF ME, BUT DON'T, EDITION 1: BRIGITTE NIELSEN

Gitta should be one of those people that I love to hate. First she married Kaspar Winding, had a kid with him, abandoned both him and kid to go to L.A. and make a name for herself. Once in La La Land, She fooled around with Schwarzenneger, married Stallone, then got screwed around with Mark Gastineau (producing one, has-to-be-fucked-up kid). Next up was this Sebastian Copeland fellow, who she married, dumped, and THEN married and then some other guy, Raoul Meyer (producing two more, forever damaged sons). Are you still with me here? Then Gitta infamously hooked up with the vertically challenged and all around skeevy Flavor Flav on the Surreal Life and probably caught whatever STDs that previously evaded her during their romance, which spawned a reality show of their own, Strange Love). And let's not forget the stellar movies that she's made: Red Sonja?!? Come on now. This woman is a fucking trainwreck.

Which is precisely why I like her. She's nuts. Certifiably nuts, and doesn't give a fuck about what everybody else thinks about her--I mean, even Joan Rivers called her a cunt during an interview. GENIUS!!!!!! God I love Gitta. This is a woman who, while discussing her cervical cancer, smoked about 500 cigarettes during the interview. She drinks like a fish, has skin that has been tanned to a leathery hide, and is unapologetic about her plastic surgery. She chooses men that she towers over, and marries them in a haphazard fashion. So what if she's not legally divorced yet? She marries them anyway. Bucknuts, I tell you. She's done it again, actually. She "married" the latest teeny hairy man who is all of 28, Mattia Dessi last year, but the marriage wasn't legal due to that pesky prior marriage. But now she's made an honest man of him. I give it a year, tops, but I hope she has another kid. You know this bitch is crazy enough to do that too.

VIVA LA GITTA!!!

From People

Brigitte Nielsen married her fifth husband, Mattia Dessi, a former model from Italy, at the five-star Radisson SAS Golden Sands Resort & Spa in Malta on Saturday, PEOPLE has learned.

Nielsen, who turns 43 on July 15, and Dessi, 28, held a wedding ceremony in the Dominican Republic on Feb. 21, 2005 – but the nuptials were not legal because Nielsen had not finished divorcing her fourth husband, former race car driver Raoul Meyer.

Last year's ceremony "was more like an official engagement," Nielsen's longtime friend and manager, Luigi Balduini, tells PEOPLE. "They put it on the news that it was a marriage, but it was an engagement, because she was still legally married."

This time though, it's the real deal. Nielsen "is pretty excited," Balduini tells PEOPLE. "She is like a little child. She is pretty happy."

Nielsen is no stranger to unconventional situations. The 6-ft.-plus Danish actress's relationship with former Public Enemy rapper Flavor Flav, whom she met in 2004 on VH1's The Surreal Life, was chronicled on another reality series on the network, Strange Love, in 2005.

The show ended with Nielsen apparently choosing Dessi over Flav, but Balduini downplayed Nielsen's involvement with the hip-hop star, telling PEOPLE last year that it was "more of a strong friendship – but it's very heavy."

Nielsen was previously married to Sylvester Stallone (husband No. 2) and involved with former NFL star Mark Gastineau, with whom she has a teenage son, Killian. She has three other sons with ex-husbands Meyer and photographer Sebastian Copeland.

Nielsen began her career as a model for such designers as Giorgio Armani and Gianni Versace. In the mid-1980s, she made the transition to acting, starring in such action pictures as Red Sonja, Cobra, Rocky IV, and Beverly Hills Cop II.

2006-07-11T06:37:00.000-07:00

KATHY GRIFFIN SHOULD STICK WITH HER GAYS

I am so pissed that I missed Kathy's interview on Larry King! Dammit all to hell. Anyhow, on the show, Kathy discussed the real reason for her divorce--her husband Matt was stealing money from her, to the tune of $72,000.

I know plenty of people out there hate Kathy Griffin and are thinking "good for Matt!" but I am not one of those people. I actually really like Kathy. Her comedy specials are hysterical and who can't love "My Life on the D-List? The woman, God love her, was not blessed with beauty of any sort, but has made a career for herself regardless in an industry where being hot is of utmost importance.

But anyhow, her husband Matt--who seems like a really nice guy on the show--lost 150 pounds or something like that--and gained a crapload of Kathy's money by sneaking off to the ATM while she was asleep. Was that really necessary? What was he buying? Forbidden boxes of Ho-Hos? Kathy stays with this guy through literally thick and thin, and this is how he repays her? Fuck him. Kathy is better off hanging out with her gaggle of gays, and her adorable parents.

I bet you that Matt will weigh 400 pounds within the year. Serves him right.

From People

Kathy Griffin: My Ex Stole $72,000 From Me

Comedian Kathy Griffin told CNN's Larry King that her marriage to Matthew Moline fell apart after she discovered he'd stolen $72,000 from her. In a Larry King Live interview that aired Monday night, Griffin, 45, said that Moline, a software entrepreneur, had taken the money from her bank accounts over an 18-month period. "My ex-husband, without my knowledge, was sneaking into my wallet when I was asleep in the mornings and taking my ATM cards of my own private accounts and withdrawing money," said the star of Bravo's My Life on the D-List."He admitted it and apologized and ... we went to couples therapy," she continued. "I really wanted to make it work." Griffin and Moline wed in 2001; Griffin filed for divorce in September 2005. After an attempted reconciliation, the divorce became official on May 17. When King suggested that, given showbiz salaries, $72,000 isn't all that much, Griffin said Moline's action had tainted her feelings toward him: "Unfortunately, we (were not) able to get beyond the trust issue."

King then read a statement submitted by Moline. "Since our divorce," it said, "I have not made any public comments about my ex-wife or our marriage. It saddens me that she would choose to make such accusations at this time. I have no intention of engaging in a public debate over private matters." Griffin, who occasionally cracked jokes during the interview (she even tried to get King to admit he'd had a facelift – he refused), said she has not been dating and has been putting all her energy into her work. "Eventually, I end up putting everything in the act," she said. "I kind of turn tragedy into comedy and I find that that's a great way for me to deal with it." She also said that talk-show hosts tend to have her on only once, given her outrageous behavior and remarks, and that she covets the bank account of former Three's Company star and Thigh Master mogul Suzanne Somers.

2006-07-11T06:27:00.000-07:00

Jon Voight Needs to Move On

John Voight is cry-babying on--again--about not seeing his granddaughter, little Messiah, Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt. He and daughter Angelina are estranged, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, we KNOW. We've known for YEARS. No one is interested in anymore. When a man goes on the record, calling his daughter an emotionally disturbed fruitcake, he really shouldn't be surprised that said fruitcake might NOT want him to see her new baby. Duh. Angelina may be a husband-stealing, flesh-cutting, blood vial-wearing, Vagina of Doom, but even she has her limits. Internalize, Accept, Begin again, Jon.

From People Magazine

Jolie's Dad: 'I Haven't Seen Shiloh'

Actor Jon Voight is still hoping to reconcile with daughter Angelina Jolie – and to see Jolie's own new daughter, 6-week-old Shiloh Nouvel.

Speaking to PEOPLE at Monday night's Los Angeles premiere of You, Me and Dupree, Voight, 67, said he saw the photos of Jolie, Brad Pitt and Shiloh that ran in the magazine recently.

"I never saw Angie's face more happy," he said. "Deep, deep peace that never has been there before until this. Beautiful, beautiful look. Both Brad and Angie looked so happy."

He added, "I haven't seen Shiloh yet. I'm looking forward to it."

Referring to Jolie, Voight said, "And no, we haven't spoken. … I don't, I didn't have any communication with her."

In interviews, Jolie, 31, has said she was upset by the way Voight cheated during his marriage to her mother, French actress Marcheline Bertrand, now 54. The couple split when Jolie was a toddler.

After attempts at reconciliation, Jolie and Voight have been estranged for two years. "I don't hate him," she told the Philadelphia Daily News in November. "I simply feel we only have so much energy in this life."

2006-07-11T06:15:00.000-07:00

THE SHAME CONSUMES ME

But Goddamnit if I don't like the new Nick Lachey CD--I wonder if it is because of my rampant hatred of Jessica Simpson, or because I still like to fly my inner boy band flag every now and again. Whatever the reason, I hate myself for it, and you should hate me too. I could tell you I have his website open right now. I could tell you I am listening to "What's Left of Me"--for the third time. I feel so dirty. I need a shower.

Anyhow, Lachey is touring. I might need to go see a show, since it opens in Albany. And slit my wrists afterward.

From The Daily News

Lachey Announces 'What's Left of Me' Tour

NEW YORK (AP) -- Now that Nick Lachey's new solo album is a hit, he's ready to go on the road. Lachey, 32, will tour this fall in support of "What's Left of Me," which debuted at No. 2 on Billboard's album chart in May and has sold more than 500,000 copies, Jive Records announced Monday.
The 26-city tour opens Sept. 20 in Albany, N.Y., with stops including Washington, Chicago, Atlanta, Minneapolis, Philadelphia, New York, Boston and Indianapolis. The tour will end Oct. 26 in St. Louis.
"These shows will be performed in a series of smaller theaters, allowing intimate concerts with fans," the record label said in a statement.
In "What's Left of Me," Lachey sings about the pain of his breakup with Jessica Simpson. The couple, who starred in the MTV reality show "Newlyweds: Nick & Jessica," recently divorced after three years of marriage.

2006-07-10T11:58:00.000-07:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD.

No, this post isn't about idiot celebrities, but this is my blog, so screw you all.

My old man would have been 80 today. We used to joke about the unlikelihood of him making it to this milestone (the odds were never in his favor, given his love of All Things Marlboro Red, Dunkin Donuts, and Little Debbie). He crapped out on me at the age of 78, but I like to think he is still around, wondering why I am wasting my time on frivolous pursuits like this. He probably also wants me to go on a diet. To quote Weird Al, I've got more chins than Chinatown right now.

There will never be another like him, and he is sorely missed.

Hope you and Mom are blowing out the candles together.

2006-07-10T11:38:00.000-07:00

As if magically on cue....

US Weekly asks "Where is Suri?" and now, all of a sudden, her "Birth Certificate" surfaces.

According to TMZ,

The document, filed with the Los Angeles County Register-Recorder/County Clerk, was filed May 8, 2006. There are several interesting items of note:

First, St. John’s Hospital has a policy of filing birth certificates within 10 days of birth. In this case, Suri was born on April 18 but the certificate was not filed until May 8, 20 days later. An official from the hospital told TMZ that the delay occurred because they needed a signature from the parents or a representative of the parents certifying birth, and that person did not come in until May 4. The person who signed is labeled “friend.” The signature is not legible.

Also, the “Attendant or Certifier” who signed the certificate — Anne Heffernan, RNC – was not in the delivery room and did not see the baby. But a hospital rep tells TMZ that Heffernan is authorized to sign when the doctor is not available. A hospital rep said “normally the doctor signs” but it isn’t a requirement.

Finally, the hospital rep said that the circumstances that triggered the eventual signing of the birth certificate were that Suri needed a passport and a birth certificate is a prerequisite to obtaining one.

My opinion: This baby is about as real as Pam Anderson's tits. In short, they are still building her in the lab.

2006-07-10T11:32:00.000-07:00

THIS DISAPPOINTS ME

Normally, I dig Gwen Stefani's style. But this screams Ghettofabulous to me. Like, if Lil' Kim had a baby, this is the shit she would use to lug it around. Who needs a Gucci Baby Bjorn? All the kid is going to do is crap and throw up in it. Waste of money, but she's loaded, so what the hell does she care? Plus, it doesn't match her outfit. Hates it!

2006-07-10T11:30:00.000-07:00

A movie you should all see.

Sniff it out at your local video store and rent it. A classic. We saw this movie about 20 times during the Blizzard of 1993. It got better every time I watched it.

2006-07-10T11:24:00.000-07:00

PEOPLE WHO ANNOY THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF ME, EDITION 8: ASHLEE SIMPSON

It almost pains me too much to even waste the finger energy required to type about how useless this person is.

First, this infamous clip, then a series of screeching performances which made me wish she stuck with lipsyncing, then a series of magazine articles in which she describes how she "loves herself the way she is," and will not change for anyone--which are released in tandem with her new nose job.

Ashlee Simpson is everything that is wrong with America. Therefore, I think the terrorists need to teach us a lesson. Leave those PATH trains alone, I say. Why blow up a perfectly good PATH train for Allah, when the REAL infidel is touring the country right now?

Dear Terrorist, you will have 15 virgins waiting for you in Paradise if you strap yourself full of explosives, catapult yourself on stage during an Ashlee Simpson show, and detonate both yourself and Miss New Schnozz, preferably during "La La" (God I hate that song).

Remember Mr. Terrorist:

PATH TRAINS = GOOD!
ASHLEE SIMPSON = THE INFIDEL!!!

2006-07-10T11:08:00.000-07:00

IS IT JUST ME????

Or does anyone else think Kevin Federline's son (the one he had with Shar Jackson, not Clitney) looks just like the Reverend Al Sharpton?

Can I get an "Amen!!!"? Or a "Halleluah!!!" Or a "Tawana Brawley covered with dog poop"? You know Kevin would have hit that too, poop and all. Praise Jesus!!!

2006-07-07T13:59:00.000-07:00

This is What I Think

I think that if Cher were to have a massive coronary while sitting front row and center at a fashion show (like she is here), and die, first off, no one would notice as she clearly can no longer move her face of her own accord. And then, assuming no one notices and everyone leaves the fashion show, Cher would be left on her own, to decompose.

But here's the thing. Cher will not decompose. Oh no. This woman has pumped God-knows how many pharmaceuticals into her veins, in the quest to look perpetually young. And let's not get started on the face lifts, brow lifts, this lift, that lift, an implant here, an implant there, here a nip, there a nip, everywhere a nip, nip.

Seriously. I want to be proven correct. I say, when Cher dies, we prop her up and let her rot on live TV. Then, and only then, will the world see what I already know. Nothing will move. Maybe her eyeballs will sink in, but her lips can't even shrink back, with all the Restylane in them. The woman has managed to mummify herself while still alive--not even Evita Peron managed to do that. She had to wait to pop off before doctors could turn her into a creepy mummy.God, Cher is my hero. Altogether now, "If I could turn back tiiiiiime...."

2006-07-07T08:39:00.000-07:00

More Mommie Moments

Perez had this on his site not too long ago, and I was pissed that he beat me to it. I know my Joanie-loving friends are going to go bucknuts for this. "This is just WONDERFULLLLLL!!!!!"

2006-07-07T08:12:00.000-07:00

WHERE THE HELL DID I GO?

Nowhere really, but I got gobsmacked with work, and have spent the last week digging myself out from underneath the pile. You people know how it is. Anyhow, whoring myself for the corporate dollar had to supercede whoring the excesses of others for your reading pleasure. And for that, I apologize.

Oh who am I kidding, like you bitches care!

Anyhow, I am back, and will try to post a bunch of fun diatribes today and over the weekend too.

Thanks for bearing with me.

Peace.

Which baby is most likely to grow up and blow away half of their graduating high school class with an AK-47?
	Suri Cruise (or whoever Tom has hired to play her as a teenager)
	Sean Preston Federline (if he's not in jail)
	Screwed New Baby Federline (if he survives his first year)
	Totally Screwed New Baby Smith (if Anna Nicole doesn't try and snort her)
	Kingston Rossdale (like this kid isn't going to be a total queen)
	Scary Baby Henry (if they let him out of the bell tower)

Whose face has the most botox?
	Mariah Carey
	David Hasselhoff
	Nicolette Sheridan
	Jessica Simpson
	Nicole Kidman