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Thursday, March 31, 2011

The Barefoot Wish Crusher

Oh Ina Garten oh Ina Garten there’s something rotten in your vegetable garden...

I’m really truly hoping the soft-spoken, soothing celebrity chef Ina Garten - the Barefoot Contessa - did not intentionally snub a sick child’s wish. Her “people” supposedly refused the Make-A-Wish foundation request not once but twice, and then when the news broke about their refusal they gave the “Unfortunately, as much as she would like to it’s absolutely impossible to grant every request she receives” response and suddenly the oil in the frying pan splattered everywhere.

Now I totally understand celebrities not being able to accommodate every request that is hurled upon them, but a sick child? Ooh, that’s bad karma... and bad PR.

Maybe Ina’s people never told her about the request, and she’s innocent? I sure hope so, but why hasn’t Ina shown up on all the talk shows begging for forgiveness?

Please, Ina, prove that you aren’t a burned crepe or moldy cheesecake, and that your compassion is as delicious as your Lamb Kabobs with Couscous.

I’m waiting.... all your fans are waiting... for you to stand on your tippy-toes and explain how this misunderstanding happened. If not, then...

I’m gonna toss my treasured Ina Garten cookbooks into the trash, ban you from my television, and never ever make another Barefoot Contessa recipe again. My dinner parties will suffer but sometimes we’ve got to do what we’ve got to do to do the right thing. Get it?

Do the right thing.

Don’t be the Barefoot Wish Crusher. Be the divine Barefoot Contessa who has a heart as big as an oversized eggplant and do something special for the child, and fire the staff member who refused the first request.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Gotta Get Down on Friday

Sometimes viral videos are truly fun in that totally demented warped sense and were created to be just that. But sometimes they’re meant to be good and end of being so bad they’re deliciously addictive guilty pleasures.

And so it goes with Rebecca Black and her song “Friday.” Oh yes, it’s addictive. After one listen to the cheesy lyrics and simply derivative melody you’ll be bouncing around the house vacuuming and scrubbing the toilet to the rhythm of “It’s Friday, Friday, Gotta get down on Friday, Everybody’s looking forward to the weekend...”

That song gets under your skin like a bedbug. Hey, it won’t kill you though it might cause discomfort and a little rash. But isn’t that what a lot of pop songs do?

Making Love Out of Nothing At All
Tubthumping
I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)
Achy Breaky Heart
Ice Ice Baby
Who Let The Dogs Out
Disco Duck
My Heart Will Go On


And the list goes on and on...

Sure, in public we say these songs are the equivalent of Ex-Lax, but in private we cherish these ditties and sing along full-voice pretending we are the ones who made them famous. Right? Don’t deny it. We all know it’s the truth.

Late at night when the world is fast asleep I like to get cozy with my computer and watch Youtube videos of cheesy pop songs. Some I have secretly added to my ipod to enjoy while pumping iron at the gym.

So I say congratulations to Rebecca Black for getting over 39 million Youtube hits. I might - just might - download it onto my ipod... “We - we - we so excited...”

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

My Secret Desire

Besides being totally hep and happening and witty and charming and a lover of what I see in the mirror I’m also a great cook.

In the secret kitchen of my pumping heart lies a strong desire to be a Television Chef with my own Food Network Show.

I want to call my show EAT THIS!

And eat they will once my audience gets a glimpse of what I have to offer.

Not to push Martha or Ina or Lidia or Marianne or Mario aside, but I want to wedge myself between them and stand as stiff as a rolling pin and show them what I’ve got.

What would make my show stand apart from the others? Besides me, it would include drinking wine - lots of wine - while preparing the food. Yes, wine, to establish a soothing, fun atmosphere while chopping and sauteing and mixing. With a pinch of this, a pinch of that, and a great tasting Malbec it would definitely be unpredictable and unscripted fun. And with special guests like Charlie Sheen and Lindsay Lohan it could only get funner (duh!).

Lots of wine makes me giddy and outrageous. People like that about me, so why not share it with the world? Who knows, maybe I’ll even break into song and dance while the chicken roasts, the spinach wilts, or the lobsters boil.

So send an email to the Food Network and let them know you really want me to show you how to EAT THIS:

Olive Basil Cheese Spread

8 oz. cream cheese, softened
6 oz. feta cheese
3/4 oz. basil leaves, chopped
3 tablespoons olive oil
15 Kalamata olives, pitted and roughly chopped
1/4 tsp. black pepper

Combine the cream cheese, feta cheese, basil, oil and 1/4 teaspoon black
pepper in a bowl and mix until smooth. Fold in the olives and spoon into a serving bowl. Serve with crackers, bread, etc.

Bon appetite!

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

All Sorts of Crazy

Instead of focusing on important stuff like rising gas prices, revolutions, plague, hatred, and war the media is obsessed with every bit of “wisdom” spewing forth from volcano mouth Charlie Sheen. And the shit he’s spewing is all sorts of crazy.

I was bangin' seven-gram rocks and finishing them because that's how I roll, because I have one speed, one gear.

I'm different. I have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart. I got tiger blood, man. Dying's for fools, dying's for amateurs.

I'm tired of pretending I'm not special. I'm tired of pretending I'm not a total freaking rock star from Mars.

Uhh... Winning!

Why is the media so obsessed with a drug and alcohol and sex addict who obviously is in desperate need of mental help, and why do we sit glued to our televisions and our computer monitors watching him self-destruct before our very eyes?

We seem to get a perverse joy watching someone succeed and then slowly crumble and disintegrate. It makes great fodder for water cooler conversations, gossip rags, the news media, and blogging (oops!). It helps us feel better about ourselves, and our non-celebrity lives.

I don’t know Charlie, though I have known a few Charlies in my day and what they don’t need is the media encouraging them to speak out, act out, and totally freak out. They need an intervention, hospitalization, and recovery.

In less than a year, after the crazy has subsided, we’ll most likely be asking “Where’s Charlie?” and hopefully it’s not gonna be a R.I.P. kind of answer.

Brittany seems to have recovered (thank goodness), Lindsay’s still out of control, and Charlie’s well... uhh.... losing.

Thursday, March 03, 2011

Bus Stop Banter

Today I wasn’t in the mood to ride my bike to the gym (too chilly), nor was I in the mood to drive my car to the gym. I wanted an adventure so I decided to take the Hollywood Dash Bus to the gym and enjoy a journey through the side streets of Hollywood. It had been a long while since I took the Dash Bus and an even longer while since I ventured some of streets of the bus route.

Dressed in my best gym attire with baseball cap strategically placed to smooth my pillow hair I threw my gym bag over my shoulder and headed to the bus stop.

So far so good...

As the bus was approaching I reached into my pocket for the exact change. I asked the only other person waiting for the bus if the fare was still twenty-five cents. The frumpy middle-aged woman said it was thirty-five cents. Oh, I innocently said, it went up.

With that she stared me down and in a surly voice she growled, “Well do the math, it didn’t go down.”

Oh no she didn’t... oh yes she did.

At that moment the bus stopped in front of us and the doors flung open. My impulse was to trip that flat footed platypus of a woman and knock her to the ground and slap the shit out of her, but in a split second of clarity and restraint (and fear of prison) I didn’t.

Instead I put on my most cheery fake Hollywood voice and wished her a beautiful day.

Bitch.