Twilight

It's a sensation. It's a phenomenon. It's some English hotness prancing around pretending to be a vampire. And the kiddies are going crazy for it. Panty liners are turning into eclairs. Everyone is yelling, "Edward, you can suck my...". Let's discuss.

Yes, I finally made it to see the much buzzed about "Twilight" and to be honest, it was a hot mess...in a good way! Oh hey between the legs! My expectations were low as all the book fanatics were disappointed by the screen adaptation, but as an ignorant bastard, I was thoroughly entertained! In a nutshell, dumpy girl moves to a dumpy town. Dumpy girl falls for the town freak. Town freak is actually a vampire. They fall in love but he's scared he'll suck her blood. Action action action. The guy from the OC dies. The end.

Let's also talk about the Robert Pattinson situation, now to be renamed Pattycakes. Yes, you all knew him as Cedric Diggory from Harry Potter and now, throngs of women and gays across the world will know him as something to finger themselves to. Let's give them something to finger about! Bonnie Raitt should remake that song for the sequel. Pattycakes plays the lead male role as Edward Cullen and who the hell knows what was going on in this movie because it was gratuitous glamour shot after glamour shot. Let's hope this limber lad doesn't end up a Hollywood hot mess. If I see him going to Les Deux with Kim Kardashian or befriending Speidi at The Ivy, I will dress up as Lindsay Lohan and go muff diving on Sammy. Oh hell no! Also, the makeup artist on this movie should be dragged into the street and stoned repeatedly. What was she/he thinking? All that white face sludge...1-800-THAT-WAS-NOT-SUBTLE. After every scene, they should have chyron'ed "Sponsored by MAC and every hot tranny mess this side of Wichita". WTF. Let me also mention that Pattycakes' daddy was played by none other than Peter Facinelli. Don't know who he is? Um excuse me but he played a crucial role in classic American cinema...You may remember him as MIKE DEXTER from Can't Hardly Wait. You know what this means...I am becoming an old fucking bag when my youth's reference points are now playing "the parent role". Does this mean I can't suck on lollipops and dance around in my room to Britney Spears? You can all suck it...I'm still doing it. You may be resistant, but just put it in your mouth and go see this movie. You'll thank my crumpets later.

Election Day

Happy Election Day! You know my weave don't wait in line for shit, but I was there, bright and early, and stood in line for THREE hours like a common prostitute so I could finally pull the big red lever. Oh hey!!! All you democrats out there should be doing the same. All you republicans can go fuck yourselves.

Obama-rama commences tonight. Get ready.

NKOTB

Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh...Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh. Oh no...

That's right, party people, I had the...pleasure...of attending the New Kids on the Block show on Monday night and I'm still in a bit of shell shock of what I witnessed. Judging by the crowd, it was hard to tell if we were at Menopause The Musical or The Vagina Monologues or Lilith Fair or the gynocologist. I think by the end of the show, we were all on the same cycle. They weren't selling popcorn in the aisles, they were selling tampies! Oh hey Flow!

So NKOTB decided to reunite because they love playing music and wanted to do it for the fans...umm or they were sick of working at Foot Locker and wanted to make some quick cash. I will say the lads aged decently, well, except that hot tranny mess Danny Wood. Who let the dogs out? Woof woof woof woof woof! Someone certainly needs to look into some Triple Oxygen Treatments immediately. Homegirl looked like he's been working at a construction site for too long! Sunscreen, Wood!

What about Jonathan Knight? Ummm has he officially come out or is he just the 80's Clay Aiken? He's leading the parade but no one's paying attention. Poor Johnny! Get this man a double ended dildo...just don't call him your Cover Girl. Johnny was just not feelin it last night. His dance moves were a bit lackluster and you could tell him internal monologue was "Just keep dancing...I'm doing it for the money...Think about that gorgeous Tudor house you can buy with this money...I can finally move to a better neighborhood and get away from these clowns...OMG that beautiful ottoman will be mine soon...Hmmm did I douche this morning?...Ohh Joey is looking hot tonight...Oh don't stare too hard...Jordan might hit me again".

Speaking of Jordan, I think if you punch him in the gut, cheese whiz might come flying out of his ass. He's thinking it's still 1988 and it's acceptable to dance next to a wind machine with his shirt open. Even Boy George is saying, "That shit is gay". His vocals sounded good though, I'll give him that much.

And what about little Joey Wack? Babydoll is all grown up now! I think he soaked the most amount of panty liners last night. The ladies still love him! And what's not to love? He's still rockin the moves and is the most convincing of the five. You work that weave, Joey!

Last and certainly least, there's Ms. Donnie Wahlberg. Something is going on with his face. If you imagine Marky Mark and Axl Rose humping until something pooped out, it might be Donnie. Oh but he's so rough! Oh but he's so tough! Oh he's such a man! Um, right. The ladies sure do love him though. At one point, some tart tossed her (massive) black bra on stage which he immediately picked up...and sniffed. OMG that's fucking foul.

The show is certainly a spectacular of sorts. You don't have to like their music to be amused. It's a grand stage show with dancing, pyro, random whorish female backup dancers...the works.

A big shout out to Ms. Becky for hookin our weaves up!

The Killers

Ms. Erika and I had the pleasure of attending The Killers show at Hammerstein Ballroom and it was certainly...a situation. Let me start by saying that the band was amazing as usual. Mr. Brandon certainly has taken some Personality Classes and bounced around the stage like he forgot to turn his electronic dildo off. Oh hey prostate! They debuted new tracks from their upcoming album Day & Age and they were fantastic. A throwback to the first album, there are many fun electronic dance numbers to get your vulva's movin and groovin.

Now let me get down and dirty with the atrocious crowd and give you just a taste of what it was like. Imagine you're in a dorm room at some state college in Connecticut, frat boys abound, sorority sluts trading Valtrex prescriptions, and an influx of middle aged New Jersey gentlemen wearing ill fitting jeans with one nut out. That pretty much sums it up. It was simply horrifying times ten. North Face sporting frat goons were HIGH-FIVING each other after every song right in front of us. Somebody please explain this odd phenomenon to me. It often happens while watching sport events. People, you are not playing the game. You are not playing the songs. You have achieved nothing but downing another Bud Light to your ever expanding gut. Why, oh why, are you high-fiving each other? And then there were the hoards of sorority sisters doing their sexiest dances for the boys. They all had that glimmer in their eyes that said, "Oh boy, if you take me to a surf and turf dinner at Red Lobster, we can have anal later".

When The Killers do their full tour and come to your town, I highly recommend you get your tickets ASAP...but beware of the crowd. I suggest a full body condom for protection.

A big what-what to Ms. Erika for hookin my situation up!

Spotted

At 11PM on Saturday 05 October, we spotted Joshua Jackson and a very manorexic Diane Kruger having dinner next to us at Blue Ribbon Sushi. These two were ALL about the PDA and I wanted to turn around and yell "Ew sick!". He looked dashing in a suit and vest without the jacket and she looked like she embraced death with her last meal in 1982. I bet she spits in bed because she doesn't want the calories. Gross.

I can't believe I've seen Joshua and Katie all in one week. My tween self finally believes that dreams can come true!

Margaret Cho

Last night, Ms. Ethrina and I scurried ourselves to Radio City Music Hall to see the incomparable Margaret Cho. The crowd was a bit watered down from the usual audience of gays and even more gays, topped with more gays (Ha, topped!). But hark, what is this I see? Straight couples? Men in dinner jackets? Girls from New Jersey out for a night out on the town? Oh for the love of dildos, this is what happens when the Cho gets a mainstream TV show.

Before her set, YouTube sensation, Mr. Liam Sullivan, performed some odd routine with 2 videos and a live performance of Shoes. It was a little less than fierce and the majority of the audience busied themselves by checking their blackberries and giving each other prostate exams. Oh THERE it is. Beep beep beep!

However, as soon as Ms. Margaret took the stage, everyone around us was convulsing with laughter and small streams of urine trickled down the aisles. If you are a Republican (Ew! Really?), don't enjoy hearing Sarah Palin being referred to as a "dumb cunt", don't enjoy bathroom humor, don't enjoy explicit chatter of one's vagina and the wonders of female ejaculation, this Cho is probably not for you. For 90 minutes, Ms. Margaret enlightened her followers on all things gay and all things vaginal and it was heaven. As funny as the show was, we had the displeasure of sitting next to two Jersey whores that must have seen this show before, because they insisted on expelling the punchlines before Margaret delivered them. Ugh. Also, there was quite an odd (hetero) couple in front of us. Think conservative, Connecticut, only fucks missionary style types. I wrongly assumed that they were at this show because SHE dragged him along, but as the show progressed, it became strikingly clear that HE was the mega fan. The more he laughed at jokes about anal bleaching, the more uncomfortable she became and you could see the light go on in her head saying "OMG, my boyfriend is a total mo". This little side show was almost as entertaining as the situation on stage.

If any of you are fortunate enough to have Ms. Margaret come to your town on the Beautiful tour, I suggest you grab the closest whoremo and get thee to the show!

All My Sons

Last night, Ms. Mercedes and I had the pleasure of attending All My Sons and to be quite honest, it was amazing! Arthur Miller's formidable play has been transformed with 21st century technology and an all star cast that delivers like The Rabbit after a week in the desert. Oh hey flood!

Let's start with the big-crazy-alien-Scientologist-freak-in-the-room, Miss Katie Holmes. I wanted to be a hater. I wanted to rant on how her "performance" as Tom Cruise's beard is unbearable. I wanted to close my eyes tightly and relive scenes from Dawson's Creek when Joey Potter was not a total nutcase and I could stare with envy at James Van Der Beek's butt cut. Fuck, where is Paula Cole when you need her? Well, probably in a lesbian commune eating vaHEYHEY for dinner EVERY NIGHT. Wait, I got a bit off topic... Back to Katie, homegirl was shockingly very good! My friend pointed out that since she tends to overact in all the films she does, maybe that would actually translate well on stage...and it does! She wears a cute weave that gives her short hairdo some loveliness. She was actually quite pretty too, but much thinner than I remembered from my last encounter with her. Some old bitch in the bathroom line explained to her friend in a heavy Midwestern accent, "Now you see, thoseackkkkktresssses are always skinnier in person because they work in FILM". Thanks you dumpy ass cow.

The true stars of the show are Mr. John Lithgow and Ms. Dianne Wiest. I was a bit nervous because forever ingrained in my head of John is his portrayal of George Henderson in the 80's sitcom, Harry and the Hendersons. Oh hey Bigfoot! But homegirl was on motherfucking point last night in this dramatic turn. He reminds me of when Robin Williams plays a dramatic role and quite frankly, that shit was phenomenal. And Ms. Dianne Wiest was truly stunning. Her role as the tortured mother of this fucked up family was sensational and in fact, even better than her part in The Birdcage as Mrs. Keeley. Oh you sassy senator's wife!

And I know all you ladies and whoremo's are chomping at the bit about that beefcake, Patrick Wilson. Well, let me break it down for you. His acting was delicious blah blah blah....but you'll all be delighted to know that there is a completely gratuitous shirtless scene of him ho'ing out some fallen tree at the top of Act II. Bring your tissues to the show! You'll be leaking from both ends!

Overall, I definitely recommend you get your situations to this show immediately. Even though am I a bitter dirty smelly sticky sour cunt, I was genuinely impressed.

An Open Letter

Dear Ms. Gayken,

To be quite honest, I am shocked and dismayed at your recent coming out. You were my beacon of masculinity and strength. When I looked into your eyes, I saw hope for heterosexuals everywhere and now, all I see is sin. You are a role model for teens across this great country of ours, and now they will all be turning gay because of you. You should be ashamed of yourself. What will Sarah Palin say?

Oh wait, am I delusional? Did I swallow day old lube? Did I ass bang myself with a moldy hot dog? You were the biggest momo before you even came out! Congrats, girlfriend! Now, when you go to Rite-Aid, you can buy your KY like a proud lady and work that juice into a frenzy! Smoothies, anyone? You go and buy your Just for Men and say, "Oh heyy boo, I need to cover up my greys, y'all!".

Moving forward, I hope you'll take the big leap to sell nipple clamps and butt plugs with your face on it when you go on tour. That'd be so hot! The Claymates will love it! In fact, let's start calling them Gaymates! Move over, Ellen! There's a new lady in town!

Congratulations, homoslice. It was no surprise to anyone but I'm glad that as a baby daddy, you can be yourself.

Now go trim your fingernails!

Yours Truly,
A Drunken Socialite

Equus

Oh hey Harry! Oh hey Potter! Oh hey Whip It Out! Ok, so yes, the truth is, the majority of the audience was there to see one thing and one thing only...one little thing...: "The powerful and provocative story of a stable boy and a psychiatrist who seek to understand the sexual and religious mystery which leads to a climactic and unbelievable event"?!?!? No, motherfucker. Everyone wanted to see some cock. Ahh Times Square is back to it's former glory where hoards of desperate sluts are paying to see penis! Who says you can't go back?

We arrived at the theater last night to be greeted by hoards of unattractive Midwestern tourists, the usual Broadway gays, and some very frumpy theater dorks who decided to deck themselves in Equus t-shirts and ski caps (These dump trucks have a long life of Twinkies, microwavable meals, and slightly annoying gay friends to look forward to...). The first 15 minutes of the show was about as pleasant as being gang banged by a lawnmower and his friend the weed wacker. Ouch! After the initial hump (ahem...), the show picks up and by intermission, it was actually quite interesting. The second half is even better and we even all forgot that we were waiting to salute Daniel's foreskin until he whipped it out (Eh, it's really about the balls anyways, isn't it? Oh HEYYY!). Surprisingly, the nudity isn't gratuitous and falls in line with story. Aren't they clever?

I was quite impressed with Miss Potter's performance. Who knew he could do more than wave around some wand and have an ugly scar on his forehead? The Harry Potter situation never really did it for me. Ohh it's so magical! Ohh it's so mystical! Ohh I'd rather shove a handful of raw tuna in my ass, wait for it to marinate, then glob it all over my face and call myself magical! I mean, wouldn't the storyline be more interesting if the lighting bolt was scarred on his penis and he Superman'ed Hermione in the opening sequence? We could call it "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Bone"?

Lollapalooza

Well, hello there. My weave is back from a whirlwind trip to Chicago and it was quite a weekend! We endured the oppressive heat on Friday and strolled over to Grant Park, only to hide in an air conditioned BUS for hours. You know my weave looks like a crazy ass mess if it has to deal with the elements for too long. Ms. Becky and I fled the premises and had a cocktail at the Hard Rock Hotel to replenish our fluids. Oh hey fluids! That evening, the ladies and I had a lovely dinner at The Palm where we stuffed ourselves silly - Get your damn head out of the gutter, fool! We stuffed ourselves with FOOD. Ahem.

Saturday, Ms. Erika and Ms. LaToya (collectively, we're now known as the hot new trio, Chi-City) took a tour de force of Chicago after some very bland Cuban food at Cafe LaGuardia. I am simply loving Lincoln Park and would love to pick up a pied a terre to hang with my Midwestern peeps. Oh heyy! That evening, a gaggle of us had a massive dinner at Japonais and it was just divine. That Tuna Tuna Salmon situation is something to tell your vibrator about. We then headed back to the Hard Rock to see Mark and Samantha Ronson do their DJ thang while we did our "we need some alcohol to get through this situation" thang. La Lohan was running around with her faux lesbian love and you know we were watching what I like to refer to as "TMZ Live".

Mamma Mia

Here I go again! My My!

Last night, I had the pleasure of attending a screening of Mamma Mia and it was simply fabulous. I am deeming it "Dreamgirls for old white women". Let's put it this way, if your husband need Viagra and you loved Fried Green Tomatoes, this movie is for you. To no surprise, Regis Philbin and his wifey sat next to us. Oh hey demographic.

Meryl Streep shines (as always) and this new endeavor into singing and dancing suits her quite well. Sure, she looks like an hold haggish tranny, but her talent cannot be denied. And big ups to Mean Girls famed Amanda Seyfried for working it out. Her singing was well done and I almost forgot about her magical powers of forecasting weather...with her breasts.

Thanks to Ms. Jessica for hooking our weaves up!

Coldplay

Yes, I know...my weave has been flying around like a tranny with no panties and I haven't had time to blog, but don't you worry, lambs...I'm back!

Last night, I had the lovely pleasure of going to the Coldplay show at Madison Square Garden and it was just heavenly. The celeb sightings were equally impressive. We spotted an all black Kirsten Dunst looking like a crack baby plus 25 years and a gorgeous Charlize Theron with hubby Stuart Townsend at the show, and a radiant Helena Christensen at the after party.

As for the band, they were, um, how do you say, off the mother fucking chain?!?! To all you haters, you need to attend just ONE show to understand the impact of their live show. Chris bounces around the stage like his dildo has malfunctioned and he's constantly being electrocuted. That poor piano probably has more glory holes in it than a public park restroom considering how much Mr. Martin humps on it. ANYWAYS, if you do not have a copy of the new album, Viva La Vida, I suggest you all take your fingers out of your various holes and get yourself to a record store asap.

An Open Letter

Dear Buttplug,

I would like to begin by congratulating you on becoming the new American Idol. Ladies and mo's across the country have branded their own buttplugs with an image of your face and everyone's walking a bit crooked today. Bravo!

I would like to propose some style tips to you. To start with, please keep your weave in an up do. The strange comb over hair style should be reserved for accountants and car salesman. Second, please consider a vacation to somewhere warm and tropical. You're so translucent that you look a bit blue. What's up pigment. Finally, please keep your clothing casual. The over-the-top faux rocker business makes me want to make love to a wood chipper.

Again, I would like to offer my congratulations but know that in my heart, you are no Momo, just a mo.

Love,
A Drunken Socialite

American Idol

Wasn't last night's performance show simply heaven? It is becoming abundantly clear that Momo is the lead favorite to win and that fills my heart with overwhelming joy! Yes, I know what you're all thinking. Sure, he's a great singer but he's just SUCH a pussy. I mean, when he opens his mouth, girlfriend, that's not his tongue! It's a fallopian tube! Yes indeed, when he's on stage, he looks like he just realized he has got some severe diarrhea and is waiting to run off stage and geyser that situation out. But we all love him anyways! Let's root him onto victory tonight!

Let's recap last night's performances. The first song was Clive Davis' selection, the second jam was some bullshit new songwriter situation, and the third song was contestant's pick.

David Cook: Buttplug started the evening with a stirring rendition of U2's I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For and honey, my pot was stirred. I actually thought his performance was genuine, energetic, and all around lovely. And aren't you all glad he put his weave into an up do? Me too! Yes, his face is slightly busted, but the weave covering half his forehead was a hot mess.

David Archuleta: Momo sang Elton John's Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me and it was INCREDIBLE. I had goose bumps in places I didn't know existed. Yes, the clothes and oversized jacket was probably styled by someone blind and deaf, but his performance was simply amazing. I actually think he solidified his winning spot with this performance. It's something Buttplug could never do. I will say that I find the wording of this song a bit inaccurate. Shouldn't "Sun" be replaced with "Abusive Dad"?

David Cook: Buttplug's second song was some atrocious mess called Dream Big. Let's just say I would rather feed Cookie a hot tamale with extra sour cream, immediately shove my tongue in his crack, and wait for fate to take it's course than listen to that dismal performance again.

David Archuleta: Momo sang In This Moment for the crappy songwriter round and even though the song sucked, he worked it out! His voice was like BUTTAH and I continued to swoon while tossing my weave around the room.

David Cook: Buttplug's final tune was Collective Soul's The World I Know. I love this 90's rock jam! It reminds me of hiding behind a dumpster, smoking cloves, and thinking I was so fucking rebellious. Oh those were the days! I actually quite enjoyed Cookie's performance of the song. He changed it up a little, gave up a few oohhh's and ahhh's, but overall, it was a bit boring. Despite all my catty cunting, I think he's a great singer and will have a cute, little career. And when he can't sing anymore, he can brand butt plugs!

David Archuleta: Momo closed the show with a repeat performance of John Lennon's Imagine and it was so incredibly moving. Just ask my bowels. There's no question in my mind that Momo is the clear winner and we'll see this queen get crowned tonight!.

An Open Letter

Dear Ms. Fantasia,

I want to say that I've been a huge fan of yours since the powerful and stirring song, Baby Mama. You gave hope and light to us single mothers. I am especially moved by these lyrics.

I see you get that support check in the mail

Ya open it and you're like "What the Hell?"

You say, "This ain't even half of daycare"

Sayin to yourself "This here ain't fair"

These lyrics are so amazing and provocative. I feel...Solidarity. Promise. Wonderment.

However, I want to say that I was quite confused by your performance last night on American Idol. I don't quite think that shade of menstrual blood quite suits your head. The clown makeup was a bit confusing as well. And Ms. Fantasia, if I may ask, exactly how many pills did you take before that number and please, may I have your pharmacist's phone number? I have questions and concerns.

You may have fallen off the wagon, but please get on a city bus, or short bus.

Your Baby Papa,

A Drunken Socialite

American Idol

It's down to the Top Three contestants and the competition is heating up!  Each of our precious darlings sang 3 songs last night and the race was so stiff, I almost married it.  The first song was Judge's Choice, the second song was Contestant's Choice, and the third song was Producer's Choice.  Let's recap!

David Archuleta: Momo started the evening with a performance of Billy Joel's And So It Goes. I actually dislike just about every Billy Joel song because it just sounds like naff bullshit for fat frat boys to sing while homo erotically slapping each other's asses.  I will say Ms. Momo worked it out and I actually enjoyed his rendition.  His second song was Chris Brown's With You, one of my favorite contemporary R&B hits, and I will have to say while vocally, it was fine, everything else was a hot tranny mess.  Even trannies were screaming, "Bitch, at least I got some fuckin rhythm!".  Oh Momo, what did you do?  That dancing was atrocious and almost borderline, Clay Aiken heinous.  And who do you think you're kidding calling some lady "little mama" and "little shortie"?  Did you mean to sing "Hey little papa...hey stick it in me?".  Le sigh.  Luckily, Momo redeemed himself with Dan Fogelberg's Longer.  The vocals were clean and crisp and he always shines in this adult contemporary genre.  Work it out, Momo!  See you in the finals!

Syesha Mercado: Syesha started the evening with Randy's pick of Alicia Keys' If I Ain't Got You and it was a gorgeous delight.  Her vocals were impeccable and although it was a bit of a copycat situation (She sounded EXACTLY like Alicia), it was still an amazing performance.  Her next performance was Peggy Lee's Fever and although the judges gave her flack about selecting this song, I thought the performance was sexy, on pitch, and made sense with her musical theater background.  Sure, it didn't show off her vocals as well as they could have been, but it wasn't a BAD performance.  Syesha ended the evening with Gia Farell's Hit Me Up and sure was Rihanna chic, wasn't she?  It was very mediocre and lacked the energy that a performer like RiRi can bring.  We all know that Syesha will be getting the boot tonight so let's bid her well. She made it FAR longer than anyone expected.  Ciao mami!

David Cook: Buttplug's first song was Simon's selection of Robert Flack's First Time Ever I Saw Your Face and he did an AMAZING job!  His raspy rocker voice reinterpreted the song with such fervor and melody that I essentially leaked more than if I was watching She's the Man for the millionth time.  His second song was overly predictable yet one of my favorites, Switchfoot's Dare You to Move.  This is the genre and sound that he excels in and this performance was no exception.  He sounded great and I was impressed overall.  Buttplug ended the trio of songs with Aerosmith's I Don't Want to Miss a Thing and brought the mother fuckin house DOWN!  You know 40 year old women across the country had their Rabbits on full throttle and I think there may be a water shortage from all the showers taken at 9:01PM.

Next week is the finale and between Momo and Buttplug, I really am uncertain who will win.  I would think that the majority of Syesha's votes will go towards Momo but this country is so fucking retarded that it's hard to say.  And the anticipation swells!

The Hills

Who watched the season finale of The Hills last night?  It was about as interesting as Paris Hilton reading passages from Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth.  Actually, can you imagine how fabulous that would be?  Oprah would roll over in bed and accidentally squash Gayle in a fit of disgust and panic.  

To summarize the barely existent plot, Audrina becomes increasingly jealous of Lo and Lauren's friendship and it finally comes to climax in a big, explosive discussion filled with tears and drama. Well, that's probably what the script said, but in reality, it was a dull conversation with one singular tear drop streaming down Lauren's precious little face.  I'd sooner shove a porcupine in my ass and do the "Twist" than watch that scene again.  Per usual, the only redeeming factor was the love of my life, Ms. Lo.  She gets so bored of the plot line given to her that she generally carries on through an episode eating or watching a muted TV in the background behind the cameras.  When Lauren was "clearly upset', Lo proclaims, "Oh my God! You're upset!  What's wrong?" in the most fake tone and ridiculous intonation you've ever heard.  I would like to build a shrine to this gleaming light and pray to her daily.  

The Heidi - Spencer story line was so over the top Corky that I could barely stay awake to watch the entire thing.  Apparently, Heidi has her high power job (of taking notes while wearing hooker heels and some horrifying suit that looked fresh from Talbot's) in Las Vegas and Spencer gets SO jealous that he drags Stephanie there to confront her and bring her home. There's the scene where Brent is waiting for Heidi in the morning to go to meetings and surprise surprise, she doesn't show up because she leaving with Spencer.  Umm excuse me but did I suffer some serious amnesia or was THIS THE SAME STORY LINE AS SEASON ONE??? Lisa Love waiting for Lauren at the airport...Lauren doesn't show up because she's getting crabs from Jason...  Are they seriously recycling scripts from previous seasons for this hot tranny mess of a show? 

To top it off, I accidentally watched a few minutes of that dumb After Show, hosted by the 2 sickest cunts on the face of the planet, Jessi and Dan. Seriously, did someone find 2 used tampons, throw them against the wall, and wait for bits of uteran lining to fall off, resulting in these 2 missed abortions?  I just don't understand who in this country would find either of them acceptable. 

Oh Hey. Excuse me. Can you pass the lube?

Please tell me all you precious lambs saw Ms. Oprah's show yesterday.  I can't believe ABC aired that because girlfriend, it was the gayest show EVER!  Maybe Bravo will run the repeats. Let me set the scene.  Oprah.  Las Vegas.  Cher AND Tina Turner.  Gay gay gay!  I think the makers of Astroglide probably threw their hands up in the air and said, "Bitch, they beat us".

Apparently, 30 some odd years ago, Cher and Tina performed on some TV show and Oprah used that as the window to tie them together for this one hour long commercial for Cher's Las Vegas show and Tina's new tour.  They should have renamed The Oprah Winfrey Show :The Las Vegas Hair Show" because herds of horses around the world were neighing and shuttering to think how much of their hair had been used to make all those wigs.  

The entire program was so over the top gay and fabulous.  Cher is too old to be polite and still curses like a trucker (Loves!).  Tina is still sporting an odd, indiscernible accent - Um girlfriend, aren't you from Tennessee?  And Oprah just looks like she has pussy breath all the time when she gazes longingly at Tina.  What's love got to do with it?  However, I will say that I am totally sold and will be flying to Vegas ASAP to see Ms. Cher and greatly anticipating Ms. Tina's return to New York.  Rather than programs, they'll be handing out butt plugs and nipple clamps at both shows.

An Open Letter

Dear Mr. Castro,

Thank you for your relentless effort in attempting to entertain America the past few months. You've reminded us why the ukulele is just so sweet and why marijuana is illegal.  If I may, I would like to offer you some advice. Although I love your unique look, I think your weave may perhaps be a bit wack.  I think with a buzzed head and perhaps pants that are a bit looser, you could reinvent yourself into something special.  I would certainly be grateful, and I am sure your testicles would agree.

Jack Johnson Forever.

Yours Truly,

A Drunken Socialite

American Idol

Well, it's down to the bottom 4 and the competition is getting fierce!  Last night, our Idols selected tunes from the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductees and almost all the performances were amazing!  Almost...

David Archuleta: Momo sang Ben E King's Stand By Me and Elvis Presley's Love Me Tender and per usual, he was incredible!  His voice was clean and on pitch and to the delight of ladies and mo's across the country, he sported an ensemble so gay even Clay Aiken would say, "Oh no Miss Thang, I would NOT be wearin' that tight little t-shirt, honey.  Oh yeah, and I'm not datin' anyone because I haven't found the right...girl...GRRRLLLLL".  Lucky for Momo, the judges loved his performances last night so someone didn't get the belt from Papa Joe 2.0.

David Cook: Buttplug sang Duran Duran's Hungry Like the Wolf and The Who's "Baba O'Riley and although I find him to be a faux rock imitation of a pile of steaming garbage, he sure did turn it out last night.  I am finding Ms. Cook to be more and more like brussels sprouts.  It looks sort of familiar (What's up cabbage), looks somewhat unappealing, but with the right amount of Cheese Wiz, it goes down smoothly and you feel somewhat satisfied.  But the problem is that if you eat too much of it, you'll be shooting diarrhea from here til Friday.

Jason Castro: He sang Bob Marley's I Shot the Sheriff and Bob Dylan's Mr. Tambourine Man. I don't even know where to start.  Now you all know I love this dreaded wonder, but I would have rather seen a Star Jones sex tape where she's dressed up like a donkey and Big Gay Al is shouting "I love backdoor!" than re-watch those 2 nightmarish performances again.  I hate to say it, but this hot tranny mess has got to go home tonight.  There is no way he can sustain another week.  Someone please send his ass back to Rockwall, TX and introduce him to a Flowbee.

Syesha Mercado: She sang Tina Turner's Proud Mary and Sam Cooke's A Change Is Gonna Come and all I have to say (again) is WOW WOW WOW!  Is someone taking B12 shots because girlfriend is turning it out!  From the Top 12, I thought there was no chance that she would make it past a few eliminations and now she is proving us wrong, and rightfully so!  She was such a precious peanut when she started sobbing and perhaps I got moist (upstairs) as well!

At this point, I really have NO idea who will win.  I was certain that the top 2 would be the two David's but Syesha's recent jump start has got be reconsidering.  Au revoir to Miss Castro tonight and let's see what happens next week!

Semi-Charmed Life

Well, we've made it to the hump, my peoples.  2 more days of sheer torture then we'll be able to relax our weaves and order martinis and microdermabrasion treatments like true socialites should!

Monday night, I met the peeps at Soho House for a fun cocktail hour filled with some delicious white sangria.  When it's cold and rainy outside, it's sangria time inside!  The venue was packed with the usual delicious Eurotrash and you couldn't throw a stone without hitting some foreskin hidden in couture.  After our cocktail hour, we made our way to Buddakan for a gorgeous Asian feast.  Somebody please holler at those edamame dumplings because they were simply divine!  After a serious gorgefest, we made our way to the Bowery Ballroom to see our favorite Scottish electro dance sensation Calvin Harris.  Bowery was transformed into a gay German rave and we danced with the best of them.   Turns out at the end of the night, I wasn't holding glow sticks and looked like I left a foam party (Please interpret this with the filthiest of minds).  If you love to dance with heterosexual men, check Mr. Harris out: http://www.myspace.com/calvinharristv .  A big thank you to Ms. Grace for hookin our weaves up and hosting such a fabulous evening!!

Last night, I took out the ever glamorous Ms. Jacky for an evening of frolicking and nostalgia. We had an amazing dinner at Kittichai before we cabbed to my big surprise for the evening: Third Eye Blind at the Nokia Theatre!!  That's right, bitches!  It's 1997 and we're rockin our weaves like San Francisco trannies!  I don't even know how to properly describe the crowd. Imagine a bunch of washed up frat boys who decided to congregate at Roosevelt Field to discuss the importance of cement.  And they all brought their ho bag lacrosstitute wives with them!  Did Suffolk County Community College vomit all over Times Square?  Oh! That's actually an appropriate assessment.   I just can't even conceive how people still think it's acceptable to HIGH FIVE each other at a concert after every song.  I almost bent over and stuck my ass in the air and hoped for a spanking to get some enjoyment out of the fratalicious mess. But the songs were delightful and even though Stephen Jenkins looked like a hot old mess, we still had a lovely time.  The evening ended with a stop at Waverly Inn for some dessert and wine.  The paparazzi were in full force outside but we only spotted a large-and-in-charge Harvey Weinstein and some dumb whore he called a "date" and that we called a "golddigging glory hole in heels".

Rainy Mondays

Rain Rain Go Away!  My Weave is Lookin a Crazy Wack Mess Today!  Goooooo Rain!

Yes, that's right.  It's a cold tranny mess up in NYC today.  It's gloomy and wet - apparently Mother Nature forgot her Depends and we've got a leak situation going on.  She should switch to Bounty.  Or maybe I should tape some sanitary napkins' situation on my head.

My weekend was fairly Betty Ford chic.  Friday night, I met up with Ms. Kelly for a lovely dinner at the Soho House rooftop.  There was more foreskin than botox up in that bitch.  But indeed the food was delicious.  After a few rounds of beverages, my weave expired and I hustled my way home.  Saturday, I had the pleasure of doing some serious lounging.  Now a lot of people think that I have naturally flawless skin (...errrr ahem cough cough), but it's really because all of us need a break sometimes when we lounge about indoors and smother various skin caviars all over our faces (think Tara Reid in Duke's lacrosse team's locker room at the end of the night) and we come out the other side looking gorgeous and radiant.  

Has anyone seen "I Am Legend"?  Now, I know what you're thinking!  What?  Twat?  That's not a teen romantic comedy!!  Why is this drunken socialite bitch indulging in a blockbuster feature on a Saturday night?  Because my little Fresh Prince of Bel-Air is up in that shit and gave a brilliant performance.  Yes, it's a big blockbuster movie full of special effects and I am sure movie snobs everywhere are deepthroating chainsaws in protest, but fuck that shit.  I thoroughly enjoyed it and would recommend it to anyone I remotely would glance at.  I just wished that Sam, the dog, would have been replaced with Carlton.  Now THAT would have won some serious Oscars.  Suck it, Helen Mirren!

On Sunday, I met Ms. Berna for a tasty brunch at Soho House before we lazed the afternoon away shopping and judging the peeps on the street.  As my girl Whoopi says in my favorite movie of all time, Jumpin Jack Flash, "There's some funky lookin people in New York!".  Later in the evening, I met Ms. Lisa for a gorgeous dinner at Da Silvano where we dumped some mighty tasty Italian fare down our throats.  

Springtime Glamour

Good morning trannies.  Somebody shout out a "Hallelujah" because it's finally Friday.  The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and my soul is black.  All is right with the world!

This week has jizzed by...errrrr, whizzed by and my weave is preparing for the weekend.  On Wednesday, the peeps and I had a few pre-dinner cocktails at Soho House.  Our waitress was a bubbly HTM that resembled Ms. Rosario Dawson.  Hey girlfriend!  We then zipped to Schiller's for a delicious dinner at the LES gastro pub.  Holler at the salmon because it was certainly divine.  After the dinz, we popped over to Mercury Lounge for the ever delightful performance by The Virgins.   If Jake Shears could blow Albert Hammond every day...and swallow, it would sound like The Virgins. Definitely check them out: www.myspace.com/thevirginsnyc .  Big ups to Mr. Jason for hookin our weaves up and hosting such a fab evening!

Last night, I had a tasty dinner at Lure Fishbar with Ms. Ethrina.  What a nautical treat!  The interior of the restaurant looks like some ridiculous yacht on the French Riviera and the clientele looks like the interior of a few crusty old douchebags.  Everyone looked related to George Hamilton and the old bats resembled tranny versions of Joan Rivers.  It was heaven! The food was delicious and we dumped more seafood down our throats than a frat boy on a Saturday night.  Damn that tuna was tasty.

If you're looking for me this weekend, I'll be poolside at Soho House under a big umbrella surrounded by empty glasses of Bloody Mary's and covered in cigarette butts.  Clearly, I am master cleansing.

American Idol

Ahh we're down to the top 6 this week and in tribute to butt plugs and KY Jelly, the contestants will be singing numbers written by Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber. And PS: It's Earth Day so recycle your plastic dildos and aluminum nipple clamps! And PPS: Are you loving what a catty queen Ms. Andrew is in the profile packages? No one's good enough for him! Simply heaven!

Syesha Mercado: All I've got to say about Ms. Syesha's performance tonight is WOW WOW WOW! Excuse me, Miss Thang, but where has your personality been hiding? It feels to me like you've been napping in a cave for the entire season, but tonight, you came out to shine! Ms. Syesha sang "One Rock 'n' Roll Too Many" from Starlight Express and worked her shit out. Her personality was oozing everywhere and honey, I got slimed! I was certain she would go home this week, but now I may have to reconsider. Well done.

Jason Castro: Now you all know I love my little dreaded peanut, Ms. Castro, but his rendition of "Memories" from Cats was a hot tranny mess. It sounded like what the inside of a tranny's manmade vagina must look like. Sick! Let's hope our boo doesn't get the boot!

Brooke White: Thank goodness for Brooke White because this means Mr. Jason is safe! Her performance of "You Must Love Me" from Evita was a fucking disaster. She fucked up the beginning by forgetting the lyrics, her vocals were horrifying, and Robot Paula was digging inside her acid trip to find something to say. Have fun with your career in babysitting!

David Archuleta: Momo sang "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera and it was so hot! Did anyone else hear the gay gasp throughout Manhattan as mo's citywide clutched their heaving bosoms and cried a tear? I mean, the combination of a Broadway hit and Momo's emotional performance is almost to much to bear. I disagree with Simon and think his performance was stellar. You could definitely hear that rendition on Top 40 radio and it would be a smash hit. Well done, Momo! One note though...what exactly is going on with Momo's lips? Has he been hanging out with Jessica Simpson and getting them plumped up? Or did Papa Joe 2.0 just smack him in the mouth too hard?

Carly Smithson: Our favorite Irish tough bitch sang "Superstar" from Jesus Christ Superstar and she sounded great! Her voice was full, soulful, and gorgeous. I was quite impressed and although I don't think she'll win, I think she'll have a fantastic career ahead of her anyhow. Bravo!

David Cook: Butt plug sang "Music of the Night" from Phantom of the Opera. At first, I was a bit unimpressed and bored, but he worked it out and by the end, I was compelled and loved it. Also, who enjoyed Ms. Weber's blatant flirting with David? It was so homo chic.

The Hills

Why oh why do I continue to torture myself with this stupid show?  Oh, I know!  For one simple reason...Ms. Lo Bosworth!  She is the sunshine in my dark cave, the filling in my Twinkie, the clitoris on my vagina.  Heaven!  Did you people watch last night?  Ms. Lo was EN FUEGO.  Here's the thing.  The reason I love her so much is she seems to be the only rationale person on the show.  She knows how ridiculous everyone is, how moronic Audrina and Justin Bobby are, and she isn't going to stand for it.  Every word she speaks has a resonance of anger and sarcasm and to me, that's a true bitch.  When Audrina agrees to move in, she says "I'm so excited...Yayyyyy" with the most monotone drone you've ever heard.  There were streams of diarrhea shooting out of my ass because I was laughing so hard.  My situation was lookin like a hot Willy Wonka mess. But forilla my peoples, nothing else really happened in the episode.  Speidi fought, Lauren got a "job" with Whitney, Justin Bobby returned (lookin like a tranny version of James Franco), and Heidi's slow attempt to get her "girlfriends" back.  Blah blah blah Fake Fake Fake I Love Lo.

A Weekend in Boston

Ahh the weekend is unfortunately over but I certainly had a lovely jaunt up to Boston.  I decided to rent a car and have a lovely Spring drive through New England on Saturday while smoking endless packs of cigs and blasting Leona Lewis.  Upon arrival, I checked into my lovely suite at Nine Zero, one of my favorite hotels in the Bean. Ms. Shannon came to meet me and we worked Newbury Street like a lacrosstitute on a frat boy.  At the end of our spree, I managed to purchase an endless supply of lube.  Hey!  Wait!  Get your minds out of the gutters, you filthy teabags! By lube, I mean facial moisturizers, luxurious shampoos, and body washes.  Sheesh!

That evening, Ms. Shannon and I rendezvoused with her boyfriend Mr. Matt for a tasty dinner in Somerville at Highland Kitchen.  Then we hightailed it out to Newton to visit with Ms. Liza who was in town for the holiday.  

Sunday, I met Ms. Jessica at Sonsie for a fabulous brunch.  Holla at some smoked salmon benedict!  Delish.  Then we did some more shopping before I hit the road to come back to New York.  I did make a quick detour to downtown Greenwich for some fabulousity, however, that shit was closed down by the time I got there.  I guess the Stepford Wives have Sunday bedtimes.

Just a lovely Monday

Well, it certainly was! Usually when Monday rolls around, you'd rather shove a beehive in your ass and pray for an explosion (that's what he said!), but not today! It was surely fabulous. Because if you're going to BE fabulous, you should be FABULOUS.

I met Ms. Erika, Ms. Annie, and Mr. Isaac at Craft for a sumptuous dinner. It certainly was delicious. Wine, passion fruit margaritas...oh! And there was food too! Yes, the ambiance is lovely if not a bit geriatric. Hey! Is that Ms. Blanche Devereux over in the corner?! Is that Paul Anka throwin down? Well, indeed the clientele is old school, but the food is heaven. A big shout out goes to Ms. Erika for hosting such a lovely dinner. HOLLER-ER-ER-ER!

After din din, Mr. Isaac and I rolled over to the Highline Ballroom to catch Jason Mraz's jammy jam where he showcased his new upcoming album. His voice is so crystal clear you could swallow it whole. I kept thinking, if this lad was on American Idol, Ms. Mo Mo Archuleta would sure be gettin a whoopin by Papa Joe 2.0 every night for not achieving Mr. Mraz's standards. The crowd was full of fatties from Connecticut and frat boys from some gutter, but we grooved right along. If your musical tastes lie between Jack Johnson and G. Love and you smoke 100 bowls a day, you'll surely love Mr. Mraz. Holler at Jason for hookin us up with passes.

And now I need to catch the one and only crazy ass Mimi from her appearance on Oprah today. I am sure the lambs are screaming...Clarice.

Michael Johns

WHAT?!?!  Exsqueeze me?  How is this even possible?  Oh wait, America voting for the wrong person?!?  That never happens!  Hmm.  

I think I will include an open letter to Monsieur Michael.

Dear Mr. Johns,

You have the voice of a delicious ice cream sandwich.  It's creamy, delicious, and makes me salivate, upstairs and downstairs.  I want to swallow it whole.  

Please forgive my fellow Americans who are apparently daft and deaf.  They have voted for Kristi Lee Cunt and there is no explanation why.  It's truly the eighth wonder of the world.

I wish you the best of luck and hope that one day, I find you singing in my shower.  And hey...the soap is on the floor.

With much love,

A Drunken Socialite

American Idol

What exactly is happening this week? I am shocked and dismayed to say that just about everyone sounds amazing! Let's break them down, shall we?

Michael Johns: My Thunder from Down Under did a heavenly rendition of Aerosmith's Dream On and it sure got me in a tizzy. He rocked quite a mo-friendly outfit, complete with a sassy handkerchief tied daintily around his pretty little neck. I am about to smear vegemite all over my body because girl, it's time to feed me to the Aussies!

Syesha Mercado: Ms. Syesha worked her shit out this week! I actually agreed with breast spilling Paula this week and she sounded amazing! I am sure she'll still fall into the bottom three, but her voice was quite lovely this week. Well done, honey!

Jason Castro: Um excuse me but do you have a Bounty towel because I just have creamed myself and it is a stinky mess!! Ms. Castro sounded like a gorgeous walk on the beach with his rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow working that ukulele like a horny lesbian and a strap on. Do me baby one more time! Surely one of the best performances of the evening. Goose bumps everywhere!

Kristy Lee Cook: This hot tranny mess sang Martina McBride's Anyway. I have come to realize that listening to her reinforces my belief in being Pro-Choice. Because honey, her mother should have fucked herself hard with a wire hanger 24 years ago when this evil spawn was conceived. I just cannot understand how this HTM is still on the show! Ugh...whomever is continuing to vote her deserves a cactus in the vajayjay.

David Cook: Butt Plug sang Our Lady Peace's Innocent. Hey girlfriend! Nice jacket! Was it on sale at the boutique by hot new designer Helen Keller? Fuckin hell, that was a huge mistake. And to top it off...he sounded like shit! I know he's supposed to be one of the front runners but seriously, how much faux rock can one take? And to top it off, to write "Give Back" on his hand? Bitch, you're not Chris Martin!

Carly Smithson: Inky sang The Show Must Go On by Queen. So now this tranny thinks she's Freddie Mercury? Well, I suppose that's fitting. She actually sounded quite good. I love her full rich voice. Has anyone noticed that she looks like a lezzy version of Vanessa Carlton? Wait, is that the pot calling the kettle muff eater?

David Archuleta: Teen Queen Mo Mo sang one of my favorite Robbie Williams' jams, Angels. It was just ok for me. Perhaps because I love that song so much and Miss Thang seemed to be going through the motions. Don't get me wrong...Little Miss Sunshine did quite well, but I think he could have given a bit more. And didn't he look a bit constipated? Or perhaps quite the opposite! Maybe Momo was clenching so tightly to avoid letting the floodgates unleash the damnation of his burrito lunch with just a bit too much sour cream. I don't know. There was just something odd about him tonight. He was a bit Small Wonder chic.

Brooke White: Miss "I'm so fucking nice" sang Carole King's You've Got a Friend. You know I want to hate on Brooke because she's just so damn sweet, but I think she worked her poop out this week. Her hair was well done, voice was fine, and overall, I was happy enough with her performance. I will say the cock ring earrings and Chico's dress for dumpy bitches were perhaps poor choices, but all around, fine fine fine.

The Hills

Who watched the debacle of The Hills last night?  It was over the top Sister Mary Fake Fake Fake!  Even hot tranny messes watching the show said, "Girrrrrllllll, THAT, honey, is a hot tranny mess".  When a hot tranny mess calls something a hot tranny mess, you've got a lot of anal leakage on your hands.

I don't even know where to begin.

Well, there's the tired story line of Team Heidi versus Team Lauren.  They have rehashed this bullshit so many times and it's getting increasingly aggravating to watch them talk about this. So Stephanie went to Lauren's birthday blah blah blah Heidi got mad blah blah blah Spencer got annoyed...who gives a flying fuck.  Let's talk about Heidi.  She is getting really Michael Jackson on us.  What horrific plastic surgeon did she go to?  She seriously looks like someone took a few swings of a bat to her face before taping.  And those lips!  Did she get them injected with tape worms?  It's not a good look.  There's one thing to have BJ lips...then there's another to look like you swallowed the whole damn dildo.

There's also this insane fake story line of Lauren and her jealousy of Whitney's new "fabulous" job as stylist dish rag.  Nothing like carrying wardrobe bags and inventorying clothing to show your worth.  After Lauren comes by for lunch and helps organize a few articles of clothing, she's offered a job.  Maybe if I blow someone in front of the White House, I'll become President. WTF.  

And then there's Stephanie...I really do love her bitchiness and fakeness, but someone needs to address her bangs...ASAP.  It looks like she made a weave out of pubic hair and plopped it on her forehead.  She looks so unfortunate.  There were a few scenes that I looked at her and thought, "She is one ugly bitch".  

And finally, the fake relationship between Brody and Lauren is so over and done.  The scene at lunch was excruciating to watch.  Brody looked like he couldn't be bothered to keep up the charade and just sat there stuffing his face.  Free lunch is free lunch, right BRODES?  Lauren peeped a few awkward stares and Poop. End scene.

I don't know how much more of this I can take.  Semi fake reality is one thing (see Real World)...but this is really working my last nerve.  I'd rather stick my genitals into a wood chipper than continue watching this hot mess.

St. Lucia

Greetings all!  My weave was down in St. Lucia for the weekend for the spectacular wedding of Ms. Chi and Mr. James.  Congratulations to the newlyweds!  

On Thursday, I flew down to the tropical isle and met the peeps at the poolside bar and immediately starting to dump all sorts of fruity concoctions down my throat (that's what he/she/tranny said!).  A few too many drinks later and we were all headed to Spinnaker's for a beach barbeque.  What a sight!  The restaurant sat on Reduit Beach and was truly lovely. Nothing like hearing a steel drum version of Bailamos!  The rhythm really did take me over...Bailamos.

Friday was a lovely day of lounging, drinking, and grazing until the ceremony.  We were bussed to a national reserve called Pigeon Point and the happy couple was wed on a sea cliff overlooking the ocean.  It was gorgeous!  After a champagne toast and photos, we were bussed to The Edge Restaurant for some delicious cocktails, dinner, and dancing.  All in all, a magical evening indeed!  

Saturday was quite a lazy day as I ended up sitting bar side for nearly 6 hours downing various banana inspired beverages.  That evening, we strolled down Rodney Bay and had dinner at Buzz Restaurant which was quite tasty.  Many bottles of wine later, we were quite tipsy and my weave had to call it a night.

Sunday was another lazy morning then we had to take the trip to the airport on the opposite side of the island before flying home.  

One more congratulations to Ms. Chi and Mr. James on their recent nuptials!  Champagne wishes and caviar dreams, lambs.

American Idol

Who watched Idol tonight? Wasn't it simply heaven? Thank goodness all the bullshit Beatles and lame-o songs have vanished and someone had the brilliant idea to have the songbirds cover Dolly Parton songs! Girl, you couldn't get more gay than if some Dolly tranny whipped it out on stage and sang a rendition to 9 to 5. HTM!

Just about everyone was sincerely delightful except for 2 toe up messes. I predict the talentless Ramiele is the one to be voted off this week. She is a midget mess and everything she does is horrifying. Perhaps the crowd who voted for JabbaWockeeZ is keeping her around but I think her time is done. Small People Big World! Later you naff cunt.

And speaking of busted up trolls, that horrendous Kristi Lee Cook has got to go. You know some dumb shit red states are voting for her because her sibling parents remind them that "they're not alone", but come on! Listening to her sing is like shoving your head up Roseanne's vajayjay and trying to make sense of it. I would sooner shove a beehive in my ass and pray for honey than listen to that hot mess. I suspect some honky tonk mother fuckers will vote for her and keep her around one more week, but you know she's got to go sooner or later.

Now let's talk about the stars of the show.

I know all of America loves Mo Mo and he'll probably win...and this week, he deserves it. Ms. Archuleta did a fine rendition, and why shouldn't he? Unless they do Cher covers next week, he can't top himself! (Oh girl, there's so many puns there...) After getting such rave reviews from the judges, he had the biggest look of relief on his face...probably because he doesn't have to go home and get butt nailed by his Poppa. Well done, girlfriend!

And let's talk about the magic that is Michael Johns! Wasn't his performance amazing?! Somebody send me Down Under...I am certainly impressed. I love that he readily admitted that he attended a Dolly Parton concert in 1986...gay gay gay! (I mean, seriously...have you seen his wife? How does one spell "b-e-a-r-d"?)

Jason Castro also worked his weave into a frenzy with his version of "Travelin Thru". Didn't it make you want to watch TransAmerica and hang with the trannies? What a wonderful voice this lad has. I'm actually quite happy that he's keeping his weave together but if he shaves that off before the finale, the ladies and mo's will flood this country with panty secretions. Juicy!

I don't always notice Carly, and at times, she's forgettable, but tonight, she worked it out. Her voice is deliciously rich and like a rented dildo in the ass, she certainly got my attention. Well done, honey!

The rest were fine, but completely forgettable. I am quite over Brooke and her "nice" manners and bullshit. You know that she goes home and works that meth pipe like a starving hooker and a meaty...burger. Daughtry butt plug David Cook is a real pain in the...well, ass. I just don't understand the faux rock situation. It's the equivalent of going to J. Crew and buying a shirt that says "I Rock". Sister Mary Fake! And finally, Syesha was fine and in fact, I quite enjoyed her cover of "I Will Always Love You" but there's really nothing special about her. Her voice is pretty, her face is pretty, but completely generic.

The Hills

Oh Mondays are so much more interesting now that The Hills is back! Tonight, a double ended dildo, I mean, double header of 2 super contrived episodes graced our presence and it was as special as ever. Special like Corky.

Let's see...tonight, we saw the return of Lauren and Whitney to LA. I love that they talk about Paris as if they were away for 6 months...girlfriends, it was 1 week! Not THAT much has changed...except now you have French crabs dancing on your twats instead of LA crabs. Yum seafood is so tasty.

Lauren goes to her class (Um, when was the last time we saw her in class...2 seasons ago?...convenient...) only to run into Spencer's hateful sister, Stephanie. Let's talk about Stephanie for a hot tranny second. Girlfriend is BUSTED! Doesn't she remind you of Ashlee Simpson before the nose job? There's something very "hangin at the food court in Northridge / accessorizing herself at Claire's" vibe about her. And does she apply mascara with a Sharpie? Anyhow, the plot line was so contrived but by the end of the 2 episodes, they find a common ground to be "civil" to each other. The scene where the ladies are lunching at FIT was especially "special". First of all, Stephanie was wearing some heinous headband and her left ear was busting out like some hot tranny rat. Girlfriend, you look like Fivel!

I will give props to Fivel for her smack down of Spencer though. The best quote of the evening must have been "You're so homeless...You're so lame". Classic! You have to have some sort of mental handicap to think of such brilliance.

Let's move on to Heidi. What exactly is wrong with her face? I will say something rather controversial here...I do think her skanky ass was pretty in season 1. Back when she was dating Jordan, she was quite cute actually. But now homegirl looks like some bitch in East LA took a bat to her face and she had to have some serious reconstructive surgery...but she'll never look the same. That's some hot Vanilla Sky shit right there, girlfriend! Anywho, her plot line with Spencer is done and dusted. They really need to think of something new. Maybe Heidi can be "sick of men" and start snacking on coochie. She is totally one of those LA girls who'd go to the sushi side for a few months.

Whitney's plot line was pretty boring. Blah blah blah she wants to be a stylist...blah blah blah she did well at her fashion show. Nothing very interesting here.

And Audrina was essentially non-existent in these episodes. She was probably too busy having anal sex and reading Cosmo about how to satisfy her man to be bothered with filming any real content. I suppose the prospect of Justin Bobby's imminent return will keep us waiting with baited breath.

And let's finish off the evening with the anal beads that barely should be rubbed...Brody and Frankie. I'd rather give Aretha Franklin sponge baths than continue to see these two tools bitch and moan. Oh poor Brody! He's so upset that Lauren won't hug him hello! And poor Frankie! He really schools Lauren on what true love is! Listening to these two makes me watch to douche with glue. Now that's a hot tranny mess.

How is it almost April?

Oh what a lovely few days it's been!  Excuse my weave for being late in blogging but I've been running around town like a hooker with new lip gloss.

Last Thursday was the belated celebration of Mr. Jeremiah's big birthday.  I won't reveal his age because a lady never tells but Happy Birthday to you, boo!  A gaggle of us celebrated with some tasty Portuguese fare at Pao.  Wine, champagne, and shots later, we were properly sloshed yelling 1-800-LOVES-IT at anyone who would listen (PS: Do NOT call that number because it is 1-800-DISGUSTING).  We headed to Sway afterwards but after one drink, my weave turned to straw and I had to go home and rest it.

Friday night, I made a mistake.  A big mistake.  Something so earth shattering, so horrifying, so weave altering, it's hard to describe or comprehend.  I had the distinct mispleasure of watching...BLOND AMBITION...starring Ms. Jessica Simpson.  Holy shitballs, talk about a monumental waste of time.  How on God's green earth did they convince the likes of Owen Wilson and Penny Marshall to star in this disaster?  I would rather hump a porcupine than sit though that again.  Boo!

Saturday night, Ms. Simone threw an amazing dinner party at her lovely Midtown digs.  Well done, my pet!   A smashing apartment, a gorgeous menu...the way a dinner party should be.

Sunday was Easter.  Did everyone find eggs shoved between their legs?  Or perhaps some Peeps?  Gosh they are so damn sticky when you shove them up your... Wait.  Ms. Berna and I decided to have a delicious Easter celebratory dinner at Craft and it was simply amazing.  Loves it, recommends it...Hit it.

Monday was the Mariah and Hills party...see below post.

Tuesday was a belated celebration of Ms. Kelly's birthday at Nobu.  Nothing like dumping loads of seafood down your throat to end an evening.  It certainly was delectable going in, but the next morning my mouth tasted like a musty fat lady's vagina.  Grotesque.

The Hills

Ah yes, the big premiere is upon us!  Mr. Jeremiah, Ms. Berna and I sauntered to Gotham Hall last night for the premiere party and it was a total spectacle.  Let's just say that the audience looked like one big bowel movement of Wet Seal.  Explosive diarrhea of all sorts of bad Long Island and New Jersey fashions were speckled upon the young ones.  Tranny tranny hot mess hot mess tranny.  Therefore it seemed the only suitable solution was to down as many glasses of champagne as possible.  

Mariah's performance was delectable.  I don't know why she looks like such a beached whale on tele because she's totally fierce in person.  Her rendition of "We Belong Together" got the audience into a total frenzy and we were singing along with the best of them.  

Ms. Berna also chatted up Lauren Conrad and to no surprise, I made some lewd comment that sent her running.  No, I didn't call her Ms. Roast Beef Curtain...to her face.  We were also witness to the amazing powers of Ms. Audrina, potentially the stupidest person on earth.  Justin Bobby could be fucking her in the ass and all she would "think" is, "Did I buy milk today?".  

I was quite sad that there was a no show by the love of my joyous life, Ms. Lo.  Oh Lo.  We did spot the lame dumped hooker Jason Preston who couldn't seem to get into the party without showing his arm tattoo to "prove" who he was.  Um that's so sad.

Big ups to Ms. Courtney for hooking us up with the soiree!

And let's chat about the show itself...Could it have BEEN anymore boring?  What a snoozefest. Essentially nothing happened.  Lauren and Whitney go to Paris.  They flirt with some casted Frenchmen (see: http://www.myspace.com/thenameofthebandisrockandroll)  There's a "crisis" with a dress.  They go to a ball.  They go home.  The end.  Boo!  I wanted some drama!  Why was Ms. Roast Beef Curtain 2008 not getting hammered and discovering the wonders of foreskin?  Where were the awkward stares and eye widening moments?  There was some boring subplot of Heidi and Spencer in Crusty Butt...I mean Crested Butte but it was so contrived and lame that no one cared.  And exactly how much plastic surgery did Heidi have?  Those lips looked so wonky that they looked like the vaginal lips from some dead tranny plopped onto her face.  The only interesting bits were Stephane, the driver and Matthias, the French "rocker".  The next 7 episodes better pick up in juice otherwise my weave will be watching my other obsession, The Real Housewives of New York City.