The Knitting Factory Tonight!

I have my black thong ready to hurl onto the stage...at my cousin. Though might rethink with my uncle standing next to me. Musician Bob Schneider is playing tonight at 8pm, but we are there for Paul Mercurio, guitarist and godlike relation. I guess I should bring my knitting, too, since it's a factory.

Nothing remarkable in the celebrity world--someone made a bad choice in marriage, albums dropped, stars gave to charity or endorsed Obama, and Madonna is still here--which is a good indication I should be, too.

Could Be Better

Maybe stars are dumb to begin with. Most of them haven't gone to college. They have spiritual transformations in public and "find themselves" in diabolical or facile ways. Can they say anything original? George Clooney can pulls funny lines from his butt, so he's off The List. But then came nice, talented Jamie Lee Curtis, who is great in A Fish Called Wanda and True Lies. She was on television to promote her book and I was shocked at my negative reaction over her tough-woman self-righteous crap about loving yourself, how words are important, and plastic surgery is bad. For once, I would love to see a celebrity sit on Oprah's chair and just say, "I don't know what I'm doing and I'm a moron. Everything I do seems pointless, my face is falling and as I get older, my bowel movements have become a daily curiosity, reminding me of my grandparents." Ashton Kitchen was on Regis and Kelly and kept saying, "You know" to the point where I felt shame.

As if I could do better.

Ps. I Love You at 5:30 a.m. or Stars with Freaky Teeth

Humbling but true. Dish did not close the eyes last night or this morning so I popped in Ps. I Love You. Honest to blog (a line in Juno that no teenager says--just call me Dish Placebo), it wasn't the worst, though Dish blubbered all the way through it for obvious reasons. Hillary was believeable as a hot young widow as she journeys through her grief. A girly sob-fest but lovely. Usually, I don't feel Hillary's sexiness, but here, she and Gerard have sizzling chemistry. Well, Gerard would have hot chemistry with the shriveled up uneaten red pepper in my fridge. If you're in the mood to salivate over Gerard Butler and Howard Dean Morgan (or whatever) and see Hillary Skank in a sexy role, put in on your queue.

The only thing that scares me about Hillary and Julia Stiles is they both have scary teeth. See below.

Those canines could slash your carotid in the middle of the night. When they smile, I want to hide. Can't you see them ripping flesh with those chompers?

Gossip and Gas

Tonight's treat is Gossip Girl, which is all about pastel raincoats tonight. I'm a little bored since Serena is so goody goody, unlike the books. None of them smokes either and, hullo, Blair is the queen of bulimia and there is no hurl on the show. Well, my cat is no longer bulimic.

Speaking of vomit, Tom Cruise on Oprah made me a little ill. I realized I can't stand either of them. They don't kick puppies, but talk about overblown icons who don't really reinvent themselves. And they'd keep my scotch cold. (Yes, I know Oprah is a superheroine and has done so much for the world. She just makes me gassy).

Back to staring at Matthew Settle. So nice to see a guy who doesn't put himself on the cross every chance he gets. That's my malicious gossip of the day and you know what I mean...

It's All About Julia

I waited for a sign. As I slugged my now bony body on the treadmill, it came to me. Mona Lisa Smile, the movie Julia made right after she married Danny Moder, her hot cameraman true love. It's part of a series of "serious" movies Julia has made. Though a period piece from the 50s, Julia has the same way of speaking, same hair, but I accept it. Who could perfect an accent when in love? So, this afternoon, as I work, I am also watching Runaway Bride, made during a prolific romantic comedy time when she was boinking Benjamin Bratt.

Teacher movies kinda suck. Everyone seems to make one: Denzel, Michelle Pffff, Matthew Perry, Hillary Swank, Tom Berenger, Sidney Poitier, Edward James Olmos, Richard Dreffff. Isn't there one where the teachers don't care? Because if you sit in an authentic teachers lounge, aside from those who do care, some are fast food teachers, some want to shove little ones off a cliff, some are reliving screwed up adolescence, some see it as a tedious step to college teaching, and others need their meds real bad. Though I had some amazing teachers and taught for six years.

Teaching aside: I wish Julia would make another dippy romantic comedy, one where there is no lesson or greater meaning. I cast her with someone cool...like, oh, I can't say who I really want. What about Julia and Keanu? That would be like looking at the sun.

In personal news, my hairperson John called me the C word and insisted that I was having a 40th birthday party this year, even though I cancelled it.

Bob Schneider at the Knitting Factory

So yeah, Dish is going to this gig, hopefully, on May 8th. And we don't really know who Bob Schneider is. But we do know his guitarist on this date is the model of perfection. How? Because he's Dish's cousin. So, we're sending out love and magic guitar strings to him. Can't wait to see him in person.

Dish Dish

For those who are licking pavement on this gloomy Saturday, check out http://youtube.com/watch?v=KrrLafH5BSE, which is the video for Duran Duran's "Falling Down." Love the idea of John Taylor feeding me pills, though the vid's editor did a hatchet job.

My crush of the weekend--aside from my new cancer causing lip gloss--is a trifecta of deliciousness: Anthony Hopkins, James Remar, and Peter Dinklage in Remains of the Day, Duplex (a whopper suck-fest with fries), and Season 4 of Nip/Tuck respectively. It's the perfect triple decker man sandwich. GQ Gorgeousness may not scream out over these choice, but a smooth voice, excellent schmacting and scenery chewing can summon fairmoans just as easily.

Ask and You Shall Receive

Just when I thought the Universe hated me, I learn Gale Harold will be on Desperate Housewives starting on May 18th. Finally, a reason to watch the show.

Thank you, Universe, for this gift during a week where I lost BF to commitmentphobia and potentially my dear cat to intestinal ennui.