It's Her Life

If Bon Jovi were your dad, why would you ever do drugs? When I read this morning that BJ's daughter was allegedly arrested for an alleged heroin overdose, I was mystified. It's Bon Jovi! I would be on my best behavior if he were my dad since he is his own high-grade drug. If you're having a bad day, you can count on Bon Jovi to lift your mood. He is classic, smooth-sailing. Even though I'm not a big fan, I always smile when I see him perform. Plus, he's kept the same hairstyle over 20 years.

Then again, I hated the maroon jacket he wore in New Year's Eve. It almost made me use. And the hair. He tours a lot and is probably never home. Everyone wants a piece of Bon Jovi so when would he have time for his daughter?

I still wouldn't mind Bon Jovi as my daddy biologically impossible, Dish. 

Please Make the Phone Ring!

A celebrity's "people" called me today! We're playing phone tag, but this could be the little boost Dish needs after this month of no-holds-barred hell. Thank goodness I have the daily healing of TG, but celebrity opportunity is truly awesome, too. And to think, 24 hours ago, I was in the throes of a mild panic attack, the kind where I thought I was dying, needed to go into another room to watch Sons of Anarchy and read Runner's World just to calm down. Dishreaders, if I do wind up on TV again, I will require immediate hair rejuvenation. This red straw hasn't seen business-scissors in, oh, 6 months...

In star news: Elmo's voice/handler allegedly had been accused of having a relationship with an underage boy but today the accuser says never mind. I smell $$$$$$. I should have been way more crafty as a 16 y.o. I could have been rich! Sure, I would have sold my soul but what does that mean anymore if you can buy out Anthropologie?

Praying for calm waters tonight. Listening to Enya, watch a little Jack Black and Shirl in Bernie, some post-election-musings on CNN, break into the Edgar Cayce's book on angels. Or the article on exercises to develop a stronger lower back. Perhaps the bio on Catherine de Medici instead? This Sybil brain needs a little of everything.

Crazy Blond

Due to subway claustrophobia, I walked home. As I reached Houston, I saw this pretty, young blond woman walking at a good clip up ahead of me. Her hair was pulled back. She wore black leggings and striped top, bag slung over her shoulder--nicely put together overall. Stopping at a restaurant table, she snapped a picture of diners. It was hard not to notice her high-pitched voice as she rambled about "changing energies, both sexual and material." Oh hell, I thought. Is everyone crazy? I pushed on past, hoping she'd get absorbed in her bananas and ignore me. Of course, she didn't. She matched my pace, seemed to get closer to the point where I decided to pause and let her go by. She never stopped her one-sided-conversation. In a frightening moment, with me stalled at the curb, she looked back. We locked eyes. There was no blurry, muddy expression on her face, which unnerved me even more. I know my meth and heroin face, the boozy stumble, the pot stare. Blondie surged ahead and kept talking, and so did I but from a distance. When she was half-a-block away, she stopped, turned toward the traffic and unleashed this terrifying rage, killer rage, like I-could-easily-no-problem-stab-you-in-your-sleep rage. Size doesn't matter.

General Petraeus might just be a big horndog, which I blame entirely on the pressure of politics, the limelight, the media and show biz--intersecting professions if not identical. Poor shmoopie. Not only is there one other woman, but possibly two. His wife is allegedly furious. Ya think??? This is such a lame story, I can't bear it.

Saw the trailer for Les Miserables and I'm filled with despair when I confess a desire to see it. Damn you, Anne Hathaway.

Exercise and sin journal: Ran 4 miles. Walked 3 miles. Ate 1/3 Snickers bar and practically nothing else--maybe mac and cheese.

Sons of Anarchy watchers: Did EVERYONE from The Shield migrate to this show? No complaints here. I like to see good actors employed. Plus, Dish never turns down the chance to see epic geezer sex between Katey Sagal and Jimmy Smits.

Dish Thoughts During Skyfall:

The Adele song sounds boring out of context but is perfect for this movie.

Daniel Craig keeps running fast to save the day--I need to step up my game and stop jogging like I'm 100.

Bond spends entire night boozing it up--Oh god, I feel so much better. I do the same only it's my brain that keeps me intoxicated, not scotch. 85% of the time, I feel crappy in the morning from my shenanigans.

Perfect casting for Ralph Fiennes and Javier Bardem. Javier has a knack for spewing weirdness in one movie, then dashing romance in another. How does he do that? Must investigate the chameleon within Dish.

After Bond's physical, the doc says he has addictions, alcohol and pills--I feel so much better about my own medicating.

Warning: Just as greeting cards mostly mock your age, there are tons of age jokes about Bond. His skin is indeed leathery. This helps me deal with my own wrinkleswho am I kidding, I want to get Botox.

During one of the many times Bond takes off his shirt, I think: If he can be that built at 44, I can do the same. I can barely open a jar of mayonnaise. Note to self: stop eating mayonnaise. Bond probably doesn't. Will strengthen the bod so that I can be ready for my spy job as head of the CIA.

Bond takes an elevator ride by jumping and holding on to the bottom of the car--F*ck, I could never do that but now I'll stop whining about being afraid of heights. Why do spies always dangle in mid-air???

He and M drive all night to desolate area in Scotland--Where did they piss?

The movie is: too long, still satisfying because of the trifecta of DC/Dame Judi/Bardem. Tenderhearts: there is some heartbreak but go see it anyway. And now I'm going to look for a Bond bloopers. I would like, for once, to see them giggling over the cheesiness of this franchise.

Banging the Biographer

I don't like where our country is headed. First that South Carolina politician cheats with an Argentinian "soulmate." Tiger Woods knocks boots with everyone (mainly strippers and PR reps). Now Patraeus has an affair with a biographer, a learned person? Things are going downhill fast. Who will run the CIA? Nominate Dish. I've been watching Homeland so I'm up to speed. I can make hard decisions, hang out with Claire Danes and Mandy Patinkin, and I'm not a cheater. No, not even if you put Duran Duran, Daniel Craig, Gale Harold in front of me. No dice and EWWWWW. See? Totally ready for steely CIA work.

Just realized tonight that Goodfellas is the straight boy's Notting Hill. It's like coming home for TG.

Kat von D and deadmau5 split, as did Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez. Now I don't have to be horrified when imagining Biebs and Selena having sex. You know you have, too. We're so sick.

When Did the News Become an Op Ed?

I can't watch most news shows anymore--except Anderson and Wolf Blitzer and I don't know why. Maybe it's all the white hair reminds me of Santa Claus. But Rachel Maddow, Keith Olbermann (when he was on TV), Don Lemon, Jack Cafferty do long ultra-smirky monologues that compel me to turn in another direction. I agree with everything Rachel Maddow says, just the delivery makes me flip the channel. I watch Fox news and their rants are not so eloquent, therefore I can listen and quietly make fun of them. Nightly news is okay, I guess. Just give me the facts. No flourish, no ironic lilt, no outrage. The liberals are erudite, yet exceedingly self-righteous to me. I listen and want to stomp on flowers, use too much power, just to add balance to the world. I probably need a vacation.

Rachel Maddow was utterly charming on The Colbert Report last night. I thought, I could totally be friends with her. Her show is just not my thing. But I do admire her and appreciate that she has her own show and that everyone loves her. She is way smarter than I am. She loves what she does and it shows. I would like to emanate that somehow, too.

When I came home, there was a bouquet of red roses on my desk. Boy, did I emanate. There's nothing like a bouquet of flowers to put me in a great mood. That TG is some charmer. This bouquet means a lot because TG doesn't believe in giving flowers since they die, so why spend the money. A plastic toy Cupid launcher is far more valuable. Isn't he sweet?
48 hours until Skyfall.

TG and I Are Obsessed with Candice Delong

Every time she's on TV, this former FBI profiler has a new hairdo and fabulous insight into the minds of killers. And check out those probing blue eyes. They pull you in and say, "I am not making you pancakes for breakfast, Jackson." I don't know where that came from This foxy g-lady is direct, no-nonsense and full of truth. She's blond. Brunette. Hair short. Hair long. Bangs. She is the scary woman who goes into the bathroom to cut her hair so that she'll go undetected...or noticed right away. What's more, she is poised for TV. She hostesses Deadly Women and a number of other killer babe shows that TG and I adore. 


Ever since...well, a month ago, I can't seem to stop staring at the walls. I figure after Sandy, NancyNoreaster, my unusual workload and this very long election, I'm allowed to be out of my mind for a while. I'm sticking to those simple pleasures: talking to Dishbrother and father-in-law on the phone, ironing TG's shirts, picking out clothes for the next day, making the bed. Maybe Skyfall will resurrect me this weekend. Sure, Daniel Craig is my fave Bond, but it's not a love thing (maybe a little--I've adored him since Layer Cake). If you know the true Dish Psyche, the one that melts over all Die Hard, Lethal Weapon, Seagal, Van Dammness, you understand it's the testosterone-action-exploding-car-awesome-reflexes I can't live without. Plus, Judi Dench could put me on a leash and I would bark and fetch for her till the cows come home.

Today's confession: I watched last night's Couples Therapy and cried my eyes out. Alex's "confrontation" with her sweet mother was so real! Damn you, Dr. Jen. We're all just trying to get through this crazy life... and on TV is always better.

What Happened?

So yeah, something happened yesterday but I forget what it is, I was so busy watching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills aka a fantastic antidote for the election venom. Now I thoroughly understand why people flee real life to watch reality TV. It's *so* not what our lives are like.

God bless Lisa, Adrienne, Yolande, Scary Mess, Brandi, Kyle, and the Drunk One. I am so ready to pull up a seat and lose myself in RHoBH after months and months of election coverage. Oh and what coverage it was. Here's Dish's roundup:

Anderson Cooper: Cute as a bug's ear.
Diane Sawyer: Allegedly wasted during coverage. Everyone's talking about it. I just think she had bad Botox and couldn't move any part of her face except for her mouth. You be the judge. Dish often talks like this after three hours of sleep. No, just rewatched. She was completely sh*tfaced.
John King: So in love with his board, it made me crazy. I kept watching him because I felt sorry for how obsessed he got. Then today he stood on same stage as ex-wife Dana Bash and both stuttered. Awwwwkkkkwarrrd.
Fox News: You know straight away who they're rooting for and I accept that, which makes the watch entertaining as sh*t.
Jon Stewart: I'm sorry, but this was not a time for funny. Lost interest after three minutes of shtick.
Donald Trump: His post-election Twitter diarrhea was hilarious! I see his purpose in the world. For us to ridicule him.

My bottom line is that I forgive Ohio for existing in 1991. Now we can go back to celebrities. Modern Family's Ariel Winter got out of dodge after allegedly living with an abusive mother. If I were her, I'd make a beeline for Sofia Vergara, who is awesomeness itself.

I heard a rumor that People is choosing Channing Tatum as its Sexiest Man Alive. Finally, a choice that is relevant and not so five years ago. Though he doesn't hold a candle to TG.