The Clouds Part and a Kardashian Emerges

Someone who used to resemble Khloe Kardashian (my fave of the clan) got contractions in Cleveland, aka the last place a girl should walk the streets, and gave birth to a girl. Surgeons found a way to give the baby butt implants and waist cinching in utero so thank Jebus she is perfect. Her name is Cumulus--and will love playing with her cousin Stormi.

Small potatoes to child-bearing, Babydaddy I guess was caught cheating, but Dish finds this insignificant since Someone Who Used to Resemble Khloe knows that athletes tend to run toward the "massage" van.

Star-spotted: Katie Finneran, Broadway Show Thief

3:12 pm: As I carried my groceries from Pamper Ur Pets, I passed Katie Finneran, aka great actress of stage, screen, and Netflix.

Katie and I go way back. We admired her first as the lesbian nanny who steals the wife from Dabney Coleman who is Tom Hanks's father in You've Got Mail. Nanny Maureen! The one who says All Men Lie, wisdom x infinity.

The Groom and I then went to see Sean Hayes and "Chenoweth" (as TG calls her) in Promises, Promises on Broadway. Katie stole the show even though we are drooling fans of SH and C. Katie just made a small scene huge.

Then came Bloodline, which Dish discovered during her Blue Period, plus I wanted to keep my bond with Friday Night Lights. Katie plays a long-suffering ex-wife.

Around this time, TG went to a funeral where he talked to this nice woman who seemed familiar. He said her name and I reminded him of our long history with her and how much we love her.

Isn't this, like, a novel? And it doesn't end there.

We went to see an Edward Albee play, in which she starred with Robert Sean Leonard (a godlike creature). I won't reveal the median age of the audience (83) or the Miss Havisham perfume wafting every which way. Long story long, despite being sophisticated and loving both actors, the play was just too depressing for us and we left at intermission. We figured that Katie and Sean unraveled their messed up marriage, went to places that seemed unfixable, but then made each other breakfast like always. Right?

And today I saw her again, looking like a well-put-together person and remarked on my own disheveled self. It's okay since we are best friends now and I'm a good enough person to let her be the glamorous one.

Moral of the story: Always go see her if she's in a play or movie. Worth it.

Crazy Dish Crush

I will only confess it here, because out loud, it sounds crazy. Dish is having transference issues! Remember Freud and how all his patients were in love with him because of his mastery over their sexual problems? It's not that Freud was sexy himself (he so was. I mean LOOK). Dish is having similar transference issues over...

SPECIAL COUNSEL ROBERT MUELLER!

It makes no sense. You'd think I'd be gaga over the politician we see every day. Who's in your face, speaking to the 5th grade educated masses, measuring his buttons (his is bigger), squeezing his hand-enhancers, smearing that Neutrogena tanner all over his delectable McDonald's body*.

No, I'm pining over the one behind closed doors, he with the long jaw and solemn look of my grandfather (also supergorgeous). Does he pose for the cameras as he walks from the car to the building? No, torturous no! Does he show us how to do better--by actually working hard? A thousand times yes!

Me miseram, RM! You keep your perfect nose to the grindstone, down your Metamucil (fiber is important when you get to a certain age), indict the bad guys, and tacitly make the Orange Slob inhale his Happy Meals and shart in his golf shorts. Who does that more effectively than the real Most Powerful Man on Earth? RM, I was never a Marine. I can barely do a lady push-up. But I salute you. Please save us, you shiver-inducing animus of love!

*threw up a little

Dish Is Psychic!!!

A sentence came into my head yesterday: Benedict Cumberbatch is about to have Baby #2. It's funny because I haven't paid much attention to our dear Sherlock. I scoured the webs and found out that indeed, he inseminated his wife for the 2nd time! So why didn't I catch on sooner and why would the universe give me this message telepathically 9 months after the initial announcement? Because maybe her water just broke*. Dish is psychically in tune with the stars.

It's hard not to focus 24/7 on my obsession: Gwen Stefani (and Blake too). Here is In Style's photo of her attending her sons' communion. I love this look (though not completely into the flyaway hairs). It's bright and lovely. Since she started dating Blake, we've been on baby watch. I'm not sure. To me, she is either too thin or perfect. We are roughly the same age so I bow down to a woman who can pull off white from the waist down!

Today I'm going to try to tune into my new ESP psychosis. So far, all I'm getting is that Beyonce might be pregnant with twins...

*Maybe but Dish has no source aside from own imagination.

Resting Melt Face

I shouldn't objectify Republicans in Congress but look at these melting faces. One of the reasons for Dish's absence from blogging is far too much time watching news. See here what happens when you sit in a conference room and go, "blaaahhhhhh" all day long. Politicians should not be celebrities unless they have stylists. It's like the end of Indiana Jones every day, especially today with the whole nuclear option (which some will pronounce nucular because they are idiots).

Speaking of...

I'm going into the other room for this. I don't want anyone to hear me. And don't tell Alec Baldwin about this post. I didn't intend to read his memoir but Dishfriend has an extra copy. I knew it was a matter of time before the bear got poked again and what better time than when his book drops? Those Mel-esque anger issues don't just go away. Even while watching Match Game, one can see the rage simmering over reading crappy jokes off a teleprompter. It's a reallllly bad game show, we were desperate. It's kind of hilarious* how these gifted guys get accepted back into our good graces again (did you see Mel at the Oscars? Hugh Grant anyone? Bill?) but there you go. Dishwisdom always pulls me through the fog of do I keep tuning it or protest? Kids, the world witnessed his twitter-war with producer Dana Brunetti. A wall got punched, a keyboard got pounded. And yet...

People, we are all Alec and Dana. We are all Housewives. Thanks, twitter.

 As my hairstylist says, it sucks when a-holes are so talented. It's easy to run away, as I did when I saw Alec in Barnes & Noble once. You don't want to be in those cross-hairs. But I can't turn away from his SNL impersonation of the big orange slob.

*as in gross.

Sweating with Stars!

I have to confess...I know where and when Sandra Bernhard works out. And you know what? She's one healthy bitch. What I love about her besides her talent is that she really works out, puts her guts into it. Then she goes to a tiny cubbie and gets her crap, which is minimal, and leaves. Once I saw her wince at the big TV when that big orange slob was talking nonsensically. Seeing Sandra always puts a boost in my workout.

Big Little Lies. I sort of loved it, but sort of didn't. I figured out the ending early on. No spoilers here, except why...why...is there always a puke scene? I was expecting Adam Scott to be the big puker, with his sensitive ways and that hideous beard. But no, it was the one I would never, ever want to see toss her cookies.

It wasn't Nicole.

I saw 7 episodes of Nicole boffing Alex Skars...(finish the spelling for me). If you take away the violence, I could have watched them all day. But that's not the point of the story, is it? The point = people have secrets and men are lame. Nicole was electrifying, even in the floral dresses. Laura Dern is always excellent--especially playing the self-righteous Type-A cow. Love her in Enlightened, well, in everything.

Last thing--I need TV/movie suggestions for TG. We love indulging in TV binge-fests, but I'm afraid his taste is more sophisticated than mine. Here are his favorites: The Sopranos, Six Feet Under, Little Britain. He refuses to watch anything Aaron Sorkin, super-girly shows like Sex & the City and Girls, though Rizzoli & Isles okay. We are show-less so we've been having meaningful conversations. Sigh...

Leave the Precious A-hole Alone!

It's time to call your senators to protest the very sad, very disastrous fact that Bill O'Reilly has tolerated so much abuse by women--over years. Thank God he has been able to maintain his star status, all while dealing with such flagrant womansplaining. Why can't we accept his virility, his need for a little more failed attempts at nookie? Because he penned such masterful prose, and certainly would never use a TEAM or GHOSTWRITER, he is even more desirable than the average celebrity. It's just expected that Bill is #1 target of these money-hungry, ladder-climbing females. Good for his network for supporting an outstanding public figure, for encouraging the adorable stolen grope, which we ladies are aching for when we're not toiling over the sputum left for us to sort out. Let's give Billy O a break. He's what the world needs now--another a-hole.

One a-hole is fantastic, but two...It warms my heart when two a-holes find each other. J-Lo and A-Rod are steaming up the 6 with their bodice-ripping passion. You can see their new leases on life, just from this picture. I wasn't buying her cozy Instagrams with Drake. But A-Rod, he's just stale enough. Two wrongs can make a bigger wrong and that is so right.

It's all about the sell, people. Don't believe anything anymore. The mail, TV, or even the innocent gesture. In childhood, Dish was accused by a relative of always having an agenda. Perhaps Dish was just ahead of her time.

Today's star sighting in Tribeca...Bethenney's toxic ex-husband screaming into the phone, "Honey, I hope you have a great day in school!!! I love you, sweetheart!" Maybe the traffic was so loud he had to be loud. Or perhaps social services was hot on his heels. Whatever the case, Dish is not a fan of the Tribeca--or insincere-fests on the phone.

But seriously, if you need an un-sad example of a gorgeousness, temperance, and sainthood, I give you TG, who cooks for and tolerates Dish--7.5 years now.

The End of Brangelina/Laomi/All Decency in TV Reporting

I hear you, Universe. You thought that killing off so many celebrities would lure me back to Dish.  Prince, Gene Wilder, and Chyna couldn't do it. Not even Hillary's pneumonia and the coverage of her every sniffle (screw you, by the way, media). But when you tear asunder the union that created the Uber Papparazzi movement, I have to say Nay. I will not lie calmly and take this abuse.

Actually, I don't care about Bland and Angina so much. My shock waned by daybreak. The little bits about his fondling Russian hookers and mixing substances, well, if I had so many responsibilities I would definitely...okay, no, I wouldn't be so insane. My worst is the Ambien shopping (where did this Reese Witherspoon DVD come from???). But I get it. The signs have been received. It's a big deal for us star-gazers and I'm here to say, I'm back. For now.

Just when I got comfortable, the news came that Liev and Naomi broke up. I checked my crystal ball predictions from a few years ago and found a log of insights into their love: doomed. Not out of knowledge but pure girl gut reaction when I heard him speak at the Rubin museum. He was asked what made him happy. His answer was that only his children keep him going/make him happy. I thought, What about Naomi? My basic feeling is that, yes, children matter a whole lot, but so does one's partner. Stay away from my husband, batches!

One last thing, Universe. Don't you dare break up Gwen Stefani and Blake Shelton. Their love is keeping my sanity intact.

And now, to find a channel that is covering the presidential debate.