Recap: American Idol Results: Love Your Hair, Hope it Wins!
A lot has happened on the planet since Tuesday’s episode. The pony hawk swept the nation, Cover Girl’s stock went up by 70%, and millions of little boys all over the world became men when their balls dropped at the sight of Gwen Stefani pumping it in extreme platforms during her video montage. And that was just in one day! Wow, this show works fast.
I was pretty sure when I got in bed with my bottle of Stoli and my girls I knew who was gonna get the boot tonight, but that didn’t make it less fun. You weren’t surprised when Saddam got hung in that barn, but you popped a bag of popcorn and gathered ’round CNN with the family to watch him dangle anyways. As it should be. This is America! And THIS. Is American Idol! (more…)
When my eyes opened this morning I felt like I was still dreaming, I was so excited. I called a couple of my Asian fruit flys (or fag hags, or Ling wings) and gassed up the Rav4 for a day of facials, BevMo shopping, and a Target spree. Holy day? Bet your asses! Stefani’s in the HOUSE! 
Today in Trash Talk: Scientists make human sheep, Nina Garcia makes a human baby, and TMZ makes us shudder. 
A couple of summers ago, I was feeling depressed, so a friend suggested I do charity work. Nothing to make you feel better about yourself than helping other people! Well, let me save you the time. Other people suck. I only needed one day of getting bitched out by old incontinents in a state run nursing home to reaffirm that. I ended up spending a couple of months at the dog shelter, where I met my little friend Brodie. Brodie was a tiny terrier that had been abused by his owners and when he was rescued, his torture continued from the other dogs. I just didn’t get it. Why did every one hate the smallest creature? It just seemed unfair. I took him home, vowing to love him and squeeze him and call him George, and all hell broke loose. The second he was safe, he started to lash out. He bit me, peed on everything, and barked at me viciously when I came home from work. The abuse and torture suddenly didn’t seem so unfair. After two weeks, I had had enough. I was still depressed, and now I was physically and emotionally scarred. The morning I was walking him back to the shelter for a lethal injection, he bit my ankle, made a run for it, and got hit by a Prius. He didn’t die, which meant I had to spend two thousand dollars and three days in the doggy hospital. Drugged up and half dead, Brodie stared into my eyes and licked my hand, making me forget all about the little jerk he’d been for the past couple weeks. For the first time since I was a kid, I prayed. I asked God to make Brodie better. But not too much better. 
Hey there people. Sorry it has been a couple of days since I have posted new content. Top Design, Trash Talk, and The View will return tomorrow at different times throughout the day, but in the meantime, check out the recap of Idol Chat our good friend Chooch (or Betsy, as she is known on this site) wrote.
Well, ladies and gents, the first huge star of the season has been born. Since Tuesday night, the sobbing little girl in the AI audience has made headlines all over the world, appeared on the nightly news and The Today Show, and shot a four part TV movie about her life for FOX. Wow, fame works fast. Can firing her mother and slipping into a heroin addiction be too far behind?
I wasn’t going to write about The View today because frankly I wanted to binge at the Soup Plantation and go see 300 instead, but I can’t just let a filling dish like today’s pass me by. This is not a full on blow by blow, but today’s ep is definitely at least worth a page or two. I don’t want to tell you happens in the first paragraph, so I’ll just give you a hint. Posie mells Gelizabeth roff. Again. Yaaay! 
As the show begins, I’m worried. Tink is so weighed down by an extra huge body mic and another drab grey suit he can barely fly straight. Why are you trying to keep the fairy down, Fox? It becomes a running theme in tonight’s show. Fairy foreshadowing. He asks the Judges what the singers could do to help remember their lyrics this week, and Paula advises them to think of Simon naked. If this image doesn’t traumatize at least one contestant, they’re all made of stone. It sends me into a depression binge. Ooooh, Haley’s dressed like a total ho tonight! Depression evaporated. Yet still I binge.
The girls welcome Barbara back from her trip to Venezuela where she interviewed Hugo Chavez. She is happy to come back to a peaceful house. The kids didn’t piss anyone off while she was away, at least no one who fought back publicly. Elizabeth, the little kiss ass, says they were afraid to misbehave when Barbara was with someone so powerful because she might have them taken care of. If only, Elizabeth. If only. Barbara said every morning at eleven, she lit a candle. LOL, Babz. “Just in case you hadn’t heard…†Yes, Barbara. We’ve heard. You interviewed Hugo Chavez. What an amazing accomplishment. She blathers on about it but decides to wait to show clips until the next segment. Goody. This is gonna be a day long event. 
About eight years ago, I moved to Long Beach and took a cush job as a pet sitter. I was basically paid to go to people’s homes while they were at work and hang out with their pets. Well, if you haven’t noticed by now, I’m an extremely lazy person. If I don’t have a boss or manager nit picking me every five minutes, I will never ever work. Not working is my favorite hobby. I made fast friends with a fellow employee named Donald, who was even more of a lazy stoner than me. The day Beloved came out, I was first in line to buy tickets (I know, I know, but Oprah had me brainwashed). Only trouble was, I had a doggie gig. If I called in “sick” one more time I was gonna get the boot, so I begged Donald to fill in for me. He did it for a single bud, and I couldn’t believe my luck. PS. Beloved sucked ass.
Recapping the American Idol results show for the first time was very interesting for me, because I usually fast forward through more than half of it. I like to think of myself as above sitting through the Florida dinner theater style production numbers and drawn out torture of innocent kids. Well, tonight I learned that I’ve been a fool. One thing I like to do when I watch TV is laugh, and this episode had me giggling so loud the downstairs neighbor pounded a broomstick on her ceiling and yelled “I have a baby!” I stomped on the floor and yelled back “Yeah! A LOUD one!” Stupid ho. Like it’s my fault her husband refuses to wear a condom. 
9:58 I had to get out of bed today to work to avoid getting bedsores, so I came down to the coffee shop. I sat at an angle where people couldn’t look at my computer screen, because a grown man sitting in a coffee shop typing madly and watching The View on his computer screen just doesn’t look right. I plugged my earphones into the wrong hole and when I pressed play, housewives screamed and the announcer boomed “Today on The View!†I slapped the mute button, but the damage was done. I am getting dirty, disapproving “get a job†looks from everyone in here. Even the girls! Judge not lest you be judged, bitches!
British people don’t know what fat kids look like, Hillary Clinton is a friend of friends of Dorothy, and Martha Stewart is one nasty bitch. 
Let me first say that I. Love. B-Side. I MISS B-side. I would write something poetic here, but I am a very shallow person and real feelings are difficult for me to express. Before I nervously pick up where he left off, let’s just take a moment to drool over 
10 AM Joely Fisher is the Guest Host Today and I am sure I am not the only one who can’t stop staring at her boobs. Jesus, Joely. It’s 10 in the morning, put the girls away! Joely’s there to remind us that she is on a sitcom called Til’ Death with Brad Garrett. Why don’t we watch it? Joely thinks it’s because they’re opposite Ugly Betty. Or it’s cuz Til’ Death’s a piece of crap. They’re moving to Wednesday nights after the American Idol results show, which means we are stuck with Brad Garrett interviews and Celebrity Poker embarrassments for at least another season or so. Anyhoo, Joely survives in the biz by turning in annoyingly memorable performances in bad shows, and I give her props for that. Boobs. Sorry, but seriously. I can’t concentrate on anything else… 
In today’s gossip, Mario Vasquez makes us recall his name again, Oprah cracks the whip on poor African children, and The New York Times shoves Al Gore’s Oscar up his ass. Good morning, Sunshine!