Stars Without Makeup

This time FOX has gone too far. In a despicable display of libel and denigration called "Stars Without Makeup," they have smeared Martha for the last time. How dare they?! What's more, they had the audacity to put this trash on after The OC and it sickens me. By all means, smear Britney and her god awful skin or X-tina and her belly bulge, that's all fine and well, but when they start going after Grande Dames like Cher, Babs, and especially Martha, the gloves come off. I honestly don't know if The OC is enough to bring me back to that network. What's next, are they gonna go after the Grandest of All Dames, my beloved close personal friend, Joan Rivers? I honestly hope they do, that would just make the break-up that much easier.


(Jealousy is just one of the prices you pay, my love. Rest assured, they won't hold us down for long. Don't ever let them take that smile off your face.)

Happy Ash Wednesday!

So I didn't know you weren't supposed to say "Happy Ash Wednesday." Didn't realize it was a "solemn holiday." What can I say, I'm Buddhist, our leaders don't make up bullshit holidays to get people to go to the temple more often so they can give more money to a corrupt, child-anal-raping hierarchy. If you don't want me thinking its a festive holiday, you shouldn't be walking around with shit on your forehead.

Persona of the Period...

In keeping with the recent butt theme, this period's persona is not only an enigma, but a "necessary evil." While he strikes fear into the eyes of many, to me, he is perhaps the funniest, most self-aware, and most outrageous person in any given bar, he is: Black Guy at "White Bar" Who Hits Exclusively on White Broads with Big Asses

Black Guy: Ooooooh! Hey girl, that must be jelly 'cuz jam don't shake like that!
White Broad: Eww!
BG: (persistent) Come and talk to a brotha! Don't be scurrrred.
WB: *Scampers away, pulling "less endowed" friend*

Having witnessed this character in action on countless occasions, I must say, thank god this society has its own unique system of checks and balances. Not only has this broad been aware of her abnormally large derriere since it got that way, she has undoubtedly paid hundreds if not thousands of dollars for gym fees and denim to try to make it look smaller. And not only does nature not work that way, but it plays right into the wanton desires of the very person she would rather spit on than talk to. Comedic irony at its very finest. And while he's "not supposed to be there" mingling with our precious and sheltered American Princess (WASP, Jewish or otherwise), he's noticing her for what she absolutely hates about herself and not for the razzle dazzle she hides behind. This alone adds infinite insult to the already boundless emotional injury he has inflicted upon her. God bless America, and God Bless those beanpole dames in the magazines for manifesting this perfectly outfitted emotional time bomb. I wish I could put this guy in a bottle like a genie so I could summon him everytime I need a good laugh.

The Honeymoon's Over, Old Ladies

I can't take this anymore, it's as if I'm not even a human being deserving of basic civil liberties. These old ladies on the subway clearly didn't get the memo, I automatically get a seat (read: reserved), especially the end spots above the heat. You see, these puppies aren't meant to deal with that much standing that early in the morning (my family has a history of heel fissures so I really need to stay off me feet as much as possible, periodic foot massages and pumice stone treatments are also necessary). So it burns me when these old broads play the "won't you please give this poor, pathetic, decrepid, disgusting old lady your seat?" card. This false sense of entitlement stems from...? Yea, I don't know either. The way I see it, they are already over the hill and ghastly, I need to preserve this youth as much as possible. I mean, it's not often that you see a 22 year old guy with the princely feet of an 8 year old.

Don't worry, I'm well aware of the protocol, even if I wasn't those bitches love to remind me of decorum. I'm here to say, I'm not playing by those rules anymore, how many times is enough? Five? Ten? 100? For what it's worth, I've given up my seat for the last time, go bother some other young guy who you think owes you some sort of kindness, I personally, have had enough. Besides, your heart probably needs the excerise. Oh and be sure to stand up straight, posture is very important, we wouldn't want that osteo acting up again now would we.


(Not buyin' it, Honey.)

I Have Seen the Light

Black men, I have seen the light. Black asses, I'm sorry, excuse me for being so crass, ghetto booties are simply gifts from above. Sir Mix-A-Lot was never so right.

It all happened recently while I was shopping at J.Crew. While perusing, I found myself staring not at the wares, but at perhaps the most magnificently cultivated pair of ass cheeks ever to be concealed by hip-hugging trousers. So mesmerized were my baby browns that I failed to even notice the employee asking me if I needed any help.

I know what you're thinking, "but Bruce, how did you know? Was there a tingle in your loins?" No. "Did your heart flutter?" Sort of. "Did something just click in your brain?" All I can say is that this Nubian Queen had the most rotund yet comely posterior ever created and it rocked me to my very core. At first glimpse, I was spellbound, a sense of euphoria came over me in the way freebase cocaine gives you instantaneous extreme pleasure. To all the health teachers around America, you are wrong; crack/cocaine is not the most addicting substance to human beings. That honor goes to ghetto booties and consider me hooked. Call me a junkie if you want, I'm just chasing that first time high.

Persona of the Period...

Persona of the Period Until I Choose A New Persona of the Period Until...

Prologue: This world is full of neuroses that lead us on ridiculous paths to "self-assurance." These insecurities inexorably lead to us staring and saying one word, OUTRAGEOUS!

This period's persona: Girl Who Gets Pregnant In Order To Wear Maternity Clothes

"Well if you must know Dahling, it started with Sarah Jessica, and then Gwyneth got preggers and then when Julia did, I told myself, I just have to be prego. I immediately went home and told Richard about my new idea and as usual he was more than happy to oblige. I mean anyone who's anyone is wearing maternity clothes these days. They're just sooo CUH-yute! Bebe's new line, designed specifically with us mothers-to-be in mind, is simply to die for."

(Madonna, pioneer of trends)

Hollywood's Got It All Wrong...

As I sit here on this fine Thanksgiving holiday, I'm thankful for many things. There is something however, that I am not thankful for, the smorgasbord of "cute" movies they are shoving down my throat. It chafes me raw I tell you. For some reason studio honchos think the public wants sympathetic lead characters who are not only likeable, but conformists, ie. people who are nice and patient. All the while, they suppress characters who are driven, because they know what they want out of life. Does this sound like the America you know? Obviously, physical appearance accounts for, at the very least, 90%, but the other 10% should be strength, gall, edginess, and selfishness.

The studio had it all wrong putting Julia Roberts and Sally Field as the leads in the film version of Steel Magnolias. If I had my druthers, the no-brainer choice for main character would be Shirley MacLaine's Ouiser Boudreaux (Weezy). If that 'tude could be bottled, it'd be worth its weight in gold.

(Tom Skerritt getting his comeuppance)

Same goes for the timeless children's classic from 1973, the adaptation of Charlotte's Web. Honestly, I could give two shits about Wilbur and his imminent demise. I say kill the fucker and feed him to Templeton. That dude's got sass.

(A glorious Templeton)

What a Proud Day for the US of A

Welcome to 1950! Legit, what the hell has this country come to? Does the collective IQ of America even crack retard or are we still muddled somewhere between Offspring of Chernobyl Survivors and Sufferers of Extreme Cerebral Palsy?

Who is the ad wizard that decided to throw the word embryonic in front of stem cell research? My God, did the Religious Right have a field day with that one. I can see all those uninformed Jesus freaks going insane thinking they're killing babies.

Young people in Ohio and Florida and everywhere for that matter should hold theirs heads up high. We really got out there and made a difference guys! Proud o' ya.

There is however, a silver lining to this dark cloud. I enthusiastically endorse four more years of the most alluring White House figure I've ever laid my baby browns on, Barbara Bush, or as I like to call her, "The New Babs."

And now, I'd like to take the opportunity to address young Barbara directly. Darling, in a word - make that two, LOVE IT! I remember the days of yore, when you could've made like Chelsea Clinton and let the door to glamour and beauty hit'cha where the good lord split'cha. But you didn't, you busted down that door and worked it with what you had. Who said your cousins got all the looks? Certainly not me, now look at you all growns-up. Barbara Bush: A true Rags-to-Riches story if ever there was one.

I Just Saw A Star... The Biggest!

As I'm walking out of my office headed to lunch, my Star-Dar starts going fucking crazy. I'm talking off the charts, like a damn bloodhound going bonkers, so I know this ain't no joke, this sizzle is legit.

My sixth sense leads me to a familiar place, the Union Square Dog Run. When I get there, its like a scene out of Best in Show. My heart flutters and blood rushes out of my brain as I see Parker Posey sitting there taking in the canine ambience. I think to myself "look at her, she loves it." Suddenly, she glances over at me with a wry smile as if to say, "I see you seein' me." So I chuckle back, as if to say, "I see you, seein' me, seein you too, baby. I ain't mad at cha, love is love." We connected metaphysically, and will both be forever changed. Now that, my adoring readership, is a shared moment.

I Am Living Proof...

I am living proof that good things happen to good people. So, I'm walking through Union Square Park and I pass a crowd of people. I stop to check out the commotion and who do I see? None other than the Diva of Divas, the Fashionista of Fashionistas, Joan Rivers taping interviews. When she saw me she immediately started screaming with elation and jumping for joy because she knew she was gonna get a free, impromptu, A-list interview. She then summoned me before her camera crew, making sure I was shot from the most flattering of angles aka any angle. After we exchanged pleasantries (I told her she looked fabulous), the interview began and she asked me my opinion on topics ranging from the criminal justice system, pop culture, to celebrities. Make sure you tune in.
Hollywood Heat

(Lovely, as per usual, Frosted like only a Grand Dame should be)