Day Two: On The Road

I should have never used the Ghost Radar app in my hotel room because it's haunted. WTF? It took a village to knock me into sleep and I dread the night ahead. His name could be Tom. Will pretend it's the spirit of Tom Hanks taking a break from Rita. That Tom is awesome.

Oh God, rerun of Pretty Woman. Must watch Julia be a virginal whore AGAIN. Speaking of Mitt Romney, he just announced he was behind the times and against gay marriage.

TG, please have pancakes and NY Post ready for my return. I will be knackered (is Tom British?).

Celeb news: Russell Brand unfollowed Katy Perry. I ate two pieces of cheesecake. Am secretly watching Mike Huckabee on Fox. The ghost chose the channel.

I'm On the Road...

Expect the following:

Really crappy short posts

No pictures from the internets (which makes it less likely that I'll be sued)

Mundane details of my exploits in Connecticut, the hotbed of celebrity living

Out of date news since I'll be watching reruns of SOMETHING while in the hotel

Groaning over failed attempt to run in place for 7 miles like Nelson Mandela in his jail cell. I brought my sneakers so will haul ass to squeaky treadmill in hotel "fitness center."

I will steal toilet paper and products not nailed down.

Why didn't I get a suite? Bethenny Frankel would have done this better.

Say a prayer for TG who will miss me like crazy (I hope).

Cause If You Don't Look Good, We Don't Look Good

The passing of another legend: hair god Vidal Sassoon, whose commercials were such a vital part of Dish's formative years, is now styling bobs in heaven. I can't take another high profile death. Need some soothing decaf Earl Grey--or an episode of The Shield.

In stormy couple news: Sean Bean was arrested for harassing his fourth ex-wife. You'd think a dishy actor could just find someone else and not resort to these childish antics. Then again, an arrest is as good as a sex tape. You can sleep easy tonight because the Johnny Depp/Vanessa Paradis union is intact. I've finally emerged from my fog.

In violence: Rihanna unfollowed Chris Brown--finally. If Twitter had been invented in 1982, it might have documented how many times I walked by LB's house. This did nothing to further my cause so I joined the track team just to be near him, hauling my cookies in the 100-meter dash (the shortest distance). Dish was slow. SJ got to him first and they made out like 12 y.o.s as I huffed across the finish line, dead last. I'm pretty sure I dodged a bullet, though.

It's Finally a Campaign!

Go, O!

Dish Is Turning Fifty Shades of Red!

Ya know, the author makes some mistakes with language and lofty prose it ain't, but I'm there. As TG snored lightly beside me, I devoured the latest literary trend--and I can't wait to return to it. I get why Fifty Shades of Grey is steaming up ereaders across the world. I haven't reached any firecrotch scenes yet but already the building of virginal attraction has me hooked--and erotica usually bores me! Finally, an overnight sensation I can buy into. Twilight and Hunger Games left this dish cold.

Speaking of...boo, North Carolina.

Yay: Sofia Vergara is single. TG and I love to watch her boobs on Modern Family. They just spill out everywhere and it makes us laugh. She's so talented--even with the boobs. I'm sure she'll be off the market in seconds, though something tells me she needs an interesting bloke to keep her attention. Not just anyone will do.

Now receipts and photographic evidence have surfaced of Travolta not in the place in question on the date of alleged masseur abuse. To me, the photo looks poorly shopped -- like Kate's face in Titanic as she's riding the wave down the hallway. But maybe I just need bifocals progressive lenses. This situation is like Mt. Vesuvius.

I called someone a c-word today, but behind its back. This is what will happen if you mess with Dish!

Rest In Cranky Peace, Maurice Sendak

I like to remember Maurice Sendak from his recent interview with Stephen Colbert. I would quote Where the Wild Things Are--as many have done in their FB statuses all day--but I can't recall a single blessed word that man wrote. I can only see the book on my lime-green childhood bookshelf and that scary cover, taunting me as I tried to chase away the nightmare of my mortality. I was four. Maurice is a national treasure!

I won't cover the Met Gala because I never can tell what it's for. Anna Wintour, dresses, the Met? The pics of Tom Brady's hair are hilarious--the half pompadour, half fauxhawk. Whose idea was that? The season is lost when athletes go for glamor.

Another masseur has come forward in the John Travolta abuse case. I hope justice is done. Will wait it out and hope the innocent party/s stay strong.

I leave you now with some straight-up questioning of this administration's stance on gay marriage by that cute-as-a-bug's-ear Anderson Cooper via Perez Hilton via Anderson via CNN. We are so behind the times--it's depressing. What's even more sad is how everyone is trying to be so tactful and speaking incoherent English*. Just Say Yes to Gay Marriage--or Just Say Something**: (taken down because it plays automatically whenever I open blog. I love AC, but not THAT much)

*The campaign depends on it! Isn't that sad? Must rewatch The American President to regain hope that U.S. government isn't completely evil.
**Writing in JJ's style of capitalization of each letter to emphasize whole sentence as a headline.

Did John Touch the Wrong Throbbing Member*

That woke you up, didn't it? You're wondering, which John? I know a John. Uh oh. Don't worry, it's John Travolta who's now being picked apart for allegedly grabbing a massage therapist's appendage. If it's true, ewwwww. His camp claims he wasn't there to grab anything. Poor guy tends to attract scandalous gay headlines. He's married to Kelly Preston (I love her) so I'm sure he did nothing wrong, but J-Trav is so guilty of wearing those bad, bad wigs and some stinker films.

Woody Allen went to Phillipe with Lindsay Lohan 24 hours after I was there. If it had been the same night, I would have choked on my Peking duck. Then, after criticizing Woody for years over his personal life and film failures, I would have magically transformed into his biggest fan, perhaps even crying a little over such an epic sighting. "At least he married the girl," TG says.

Lost star Matthew Fox is lost after getting busted for DUI. He previously was in the news for drunkenness and punching a lady in the crotch in Cleveland (this should be a country western song).

Today's question: How long before Tanning Mom gets her own TV show? How did owners of Meow allow this kitty to get so fat and die?

Rest in peace, George Lindsey, Goober Pyle from The Andy Griffith Show. This show bored me. I will do the whistle in Goober's honor.

Allegedly, angry Tweeters are seething over the choice of Duran Duran to play for the Olympics. Ha. The people who can afford to attend would mostly be above 30, which would make Duran Duran a semi-logical choice. It's not as if The Beatles could play. The Rolling Stones, maybe? Elton's done just about every venue. Paul McCartney just played the Superbowl. I dunno, why not Duran Duran?

I'm not at all biased.

*Apologies to my relatives.

Sarkozee, Ve Hardly Know Zee

Bonjour, les personnes! Je suis here to announcer que le tres beau et sexy socialiste Francois Hollande (errrr, on get our countries mixed up un peu?) a ete electay President de La France! Mais...est-ce qu'un "Socialiste President" un oxymoron? Furtherplus, le probleme est que l'evil Hollande va TAXER LES RICHES! Abominable, insupportable, semblable. Pourquoi pas les riches ne keep pas leurs moneys? Ils earned it beater et degrader les pauvres sots into submission. Les Wall Streets font shitter dans leur pantalons. Encore plus important, does Mr. Francois France avoir une belle supermodel wife? C'est ca qui fuel une kingdom. Je viens de faire un Google search et, oui, son wife est hot. L'Europe est saved!