The Curious Case of Benjamin Button...

...is probably one of the sappiest crapfests I've seen in a long time--this generation's Forrest Gump. Three hours of nonsensical corn syrup (always with a southern accent) shot in soft blues and yellows. While Gump was right wing propaganda, this one is more left wing -- with the PC version of orphanhood and family. Everyone helps everyone (well, it's mostly just the women who do the work). The "other" is isolated, casts off his family the way he was cast off--perpetuating the "you're better off without my freaky self" excuse for the disappearing father (Superman Returns). Blanchett's "Daisy" starts off a precocious sex-starved/bitchy free spirit but, like all the women in the film whose dreams fall in the dust, she winds up changing everyone's diapers. Throughout, Blanchett tells the epic story like Katharine Hepburn would in On Golden Pond: chewing scenery with a turban on her head, constant shaking and saggy waddle under her chin.

Predictable. Babel was better for these two.

Feline Combat

Cesar Millan, aka "The Dog Whisperer," inspired me to work with the "energy" of my unruly cat. I pet him and did the pointy thing to get him to calm down. None of it worked. He still meowed whenever I stood, thinking I was about to feed him. After climbing all over the kitchen counters, leaving litter everywhere, he bit off hair and spit it on the ground in front of me. He woke me up for his 3:30 am feeding. Then his 7:30 feeding. Tried to dupe me into a 9:30 feeding. He knocked pens, keys, bottles to the ground to get me to wake up. He jumped near my head and repeatedly touched my mouth with his paw. Only when I yelled obscenities did he stop. Since he responds to violence, I'm buying a squirt gun. I will sleep with the gun under my pillow, waiting furtively for his morning bat-jump onto the noisy printer. I will roll, fire and cackle as he flies across the room in terror. I've been nice for fifteen years and now it's time to get dirty.

Adding and Subtracting

Chastity Bono is now Chaz and wants a sexual reassignment. If I'd been named Chastity I'd do the same, along with everything that moves. I hope this brings Chaz happiness and wish her lots of peace (along with a massive piece). Is Cher freaking, though? She wasn't so accepting of having a gay daughter, who will soon be a hetero son. And let's face it, Chaz will wind up a gay man because his mother *is* Cher. Full circle.

I went to see a Talking Heads tribute band and they were amazing--otherwise, I would not have stayed out until 2 am. The last time I did that was for a boy--Exbf15--who dragged me in heels all over the crack den of Union Square Park while he rehydrated with a Snapple that "tasted like vomit." I was smitten so happily endured the journey past my bedtime. It takes a village to keep me out late and my old friend's band was well worth it, if only to remember the majesty of TH. Then *sniff* they dedicated "And She Was" to Dish! I choked on my Altoid. When life seems like an endless stream of assignments and slow decay, little bright spots make it enjoyable.

There's a World Outside Your Window

I did buy my Rolling Stone. Am only skeeved by Clambake's chest hair. Isn't he supposed to be into waxing? I don't want to see real skin or hint of post-puberty! Oh well, it'll keep me entertained.

I'm indoors all the time working but tonight will step out to see a Talking Heads tribute band (starring an old friend) at 10:30 in the Village. Over ten years ago, Exbf8 got me David Byrne's autograph during a flight. DB loved my name. Wish I loved his music. THs and B-52s grate on Dish's nerves, though "And She Was" is my fave.

Gracious is a Virtue

I'm sending out the love to former First Lady Laura Bush, who came out in favor of Sotomayor. She may not have the flash of Michelle or plant gardens, but she's a great reader and rocks in her own special way. You can't help who you fall in love with.

I love it when icons make surprise appearances: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gS8vqgLTKvQ. No matter how many doobies he smokes or lewd acts he performs, George Michael has a special place in my heart (especially since he named an album after Dish). For another treat, watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8jEnTSQStGE .

More Shocking News!

Adam Clambake has FINALLY come out as a homosexual. Next week, Dish is coming out as a giant Raggedy Ann doll. But really, it's a sad day. I had such high hopes Young Gay Adam would switch at the last minute--maybe find interest in an atonal 40-year-old spinster with a blog.

Not so much in television: I tuned in to Gene Simmons's Family Jewels but it was like watching paint dry. This family can't act, even in reality! There is something sexy about Gene, much as I try to deny it. The hair is getting Seagal-ish, though.

Last night's The Closer, well, let's just say I got my dishes done. Pardon all the negativity (we knew the positive stuff would last five minutes), I'm overworked and under the weather.

So Much to Watch; Too Busy to Watch

The Closer premieres tonight. Hope it's not as bad as last season. I wonder if Brenda's case will force her to join with the FBI (for the millionth time). Lots of shows with similar names: The Closer, The Listener, The Cleaner, The Mentalist. I have a few: The Labotomist, The Proctologist, The Guidance Counselor--Actually, I'd watch these.

Kathy Griffin's Life on the D List also premieres tonight. Can't wait because I love her. Though I'll probably miss it.

Colbert is in Iraq--wish I could stay up and watch. He makes my insides turn to mush (in a good and not vomitatious way).

David Carradine's Cause of Death Keeps Dragging Out: Face facts, he was probably getting his freak on. There are worse ways to die (of boredom) but when you're a celeb, it's mucho embarrassing for family.

In Dish news: I had my quarterly Gale Harold dream: He was still recovering from his motorcycle accident and we sat outside, waiting for a movie to start. I asked if I could share his blanket as it was cold. He said okay, as long as I got him some snax first. TYPICAL! To friends and family who are so nice--and not just when there's a problem, or are bored, or need snax, or are filling time--my eternal thanks and love.

Nick Rhodes is 47!

Two score and seven years ago, a baby was swaddled in a manger with Birmingham deer, groundhogs and rabbits chanting happy songs in British accents. The Lord came upon him and said, “In fifteen years, thou wilt play a synthesizer, and it will be GOOD.” That precious baby was Nick Rhodes. Back then, he was Nicholas James Bates, as in The Bates Motel. But we know Nick is no crazy-mama-shower-killer. He grew up to be the keyboardist of Duran Duran and his own makeup applicator. Frank Lloyd Wright was also born on this day, but we don’t care as much about him. He just built stuff. Even today, Nick displays fierce hair/fashion attitude and takes good picture. The only bad thing for Nick is that he’s a Gemini, which means he crazy. Happy Birthday, Nick!