AI Is a Diphthong that Smoothes Away Visible Panty Lines but Not Cellulite

I'm now somewhere between Iraq and Park Place, sipping smoothies directly from the Strait of Vermouth. As I graze my hand off my floating swan raft and into the chlorinated water, I am telepathically downloading the latest intel on your favorite stars.

On Saturday, I was finally in the same room as Don Cheadle. We laughed and cried as he excelled in how he talked to us about math. Prime numbers, wow. Solving a proof over 40 pages, my God! So we didn't actually speak directly to each other, but I know he saw me in Row J, seat 18. My electric red hair is that glowy, as is my waving of hands and mouthing, "Hi, Don Cheadle! It's meeee!!!!" If you have the chance to see Proof on Broadway, do it now. Ayo Edebiri and Don rock it, also Jin Ha and Kara Young are excellent. 

Before the show started, I recognized Jason Blum a few rows ahead of us. We went to high school together, though were not besties. Oh the horror! (wink wink) I elbowed TG, who was ready to pounce, but I whispered, "Don't bother him. He's a star." 

When did I become so respectful? Maybe it's that celebrity has changed in 20 years. It comes with purity tests and other quirks. More of a revolving door of younger, thinner people, new faces. I wouldn't know what to say. How cringe is it that I'm revealing this? I'm still confident and daring at 36!!! 

I will sign off with a warning of the upcoming girl rapture. Reese Witherspoon and Mel Robbins are smiling-telling women not to be left behind by AI. Come on, girls. Time to shorten your hems, crop your tops, wear a bold lipstick, and hike up those heels. Let Him do some under-the-sweater action or else you'll never get a man, children, or any life.

Ps. I only use AI to apply my estrogen patch, which I totally don't need because I'm way too young.   

If Jake Paul and Mike Tyson Fight in the Woods, Does That Mean It Happened?

Dish is coming out of hiding after 6 years -- 6 years! -- to say how thoroughly boring and over-hyped the Tyson-Paul fight was on Saturday. Fully under the spell of boxing's PR machine, TG and I got ourselves ready with snax, booze, and long list of why we are losers from the town of Loser, population 2. Even though feeling a little vomit emoji, I hit the Watch Now button on Netflix and we waited. Four hours later, we realized we'd been had. Anything involving Jake Paul is a gimmick and you should never enter a room alone with Mike Tyson unless you are a dude in a Hangover movie. Why invest in this? Dish does not forget history. I remember that one's marriage, which ended in brutality, then the "sexual battery" case that resulted in so much suffering and backlash against women in general for having the nerve to tell their stories. Decades later he's celebrated, a riot, and a hysterical part of The Hangover series. 

I wasn't sure why I fell for this fight. The idea of these two beating each other up--appealing. Maybe I wanted the old guy to beat up the young guy. And yet, it was about as exciting as cat flatulence. The opening band--female boxers--was way better.

Better to walk away from these boondoggle events. Here's to focusing on those worthy of our attention.

Dia Dipasupil/WireImage

On a brighter side, I saw the glorious Valerie Bertinelli walking in Riverside Park. Maybe coming from a dog run? I felt bathed in heavenly goodness.

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...