If Only We All Had the Talent to Diss Our Hookups via Rap Song

I know he offends the gays but I love Eminem since Slim Shady. His lyrics amuse and inspire me. In his latest, The Warning, he brings down Mariah Carey with whom he shared sweet boinkage. She won't fess up to sullying her loins with his shameful man muscle but he claims to have pics, which he might publicize! Thank gawd, Dish wasn't stupid to be photographed (though there are tons of naked pics of me at age 2 and they are HOT!). Bring on the sex tape, Emmie! I am so bored.

Happenings: I'm taking the 9am to Hartford, CT for a Dish family reunion tomorrow morn--My seventh Amtrak voyage in 30 days...

Imaginary Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Dear Gale Harold,

After four years, I must end our imaginary relationship. I still love you with all my heart but you're not ambitious and callous enough for me. I can't watch any more of your indie movies and my flower needs water in order to grow. On a superficial level, your lips have touched Teri Hatcher's and I can't get past this. Not only that, well, you've changed since you dislocated your shoulder and sustained brain swelling after your motorcycle accident. I've pulled out my hairs trying to love a daredevil with a fleet of motorcycles and my heart can't take the pain--especially after Keanu's many scrapes. I need consistent affection. I need someone who won't horrify me by growing facial hair. I need box office regularity. Most of all, I need a man named after my favorite cold cut--Jon Hamm. Sure, everyone covets his lusciousness but my love is true. Jon is mine (until you get your act together because let's face it, I'm easy). No protests if you decide to visit my dreams. I know it's hard to give me up.

Yours 2005-2009 (and after I break up with Jon)
Dish

Annie Wesching -- Too Bodacious for Bauer

Dish is catching up on 24 and must highlight the latest twinkie--only Renee Walker (played marvelously by Wesching) is no bimbo. Well, she does believe Kiefer Sutherland's blarney and even lets him shoot her and bury her alive (Face it, Renee, he's just not that into you). She finds a way to deal--as great women always do--and kicks some derriere all over town.

To go with my action television, I made an FBI-orchestrated grilled cheese sandwich with highly suspicious tartar sauce. It's risky because you never know how Dish's dishes will turn out. For guests, I can cook like Julia Child. For myself, it's powdered potatoes with a spoonful of mayonnaise and parmesan cheese. Not fit even for live-off-your-armpit-sweat Jack Bauer. Will embark summarily on mission to acquire a top secret macaroon.

The Bachelor

You can release that breath. You don't need Daddy anymore. Or those ex-boyfriends who resurface and vanish for no reason. No more dating losers and binging on Ho-hos while watching Maid in Manhattan. Let go of your troubles and the fear that no one will ever be good enough for you. That elusive man has emerged with the qualities you've craved--honor, power, muscles, a commanding voice, and the ability to wear bright yellow panties.

At last...Hulk Hogan is single again.

Le Pauvre Petit Cocotte

Cher Mr. Le President de la Frog Countray,

Je suis desolee que tu a faintay comme un sissy fille pendant que tu fasses le jogging. J'hope que l'hopital pronounce toi healthie et ready pour action (et le sexy sex avec ton sexy wife, Carla--oui, oui). La France a le tres bon health care unlike Les Etats Unis, qui charge les millions de dollars pour le pap smear si tu n'as pas l'insurance. J'aime la France beaucoup mais pas le French Pop Music qui mostly suck. Mais, Sarkozy bebe, s'il te plait, take care de toi-self et ne faintay plus. C'est pas dignified.

Love et Patisseries,
Dish!

Damn You, Gene Simmons and Your Family Jewels!

I never thought of Gene Simmons as anything more than a big ick with a long tongue. Then he appeared on Rachael Ray and I swear he could charm the panties off a nun, even with his semi-Seagal brillo pad hair. Dish made the mistake of watching Gene Simmons's Family Jewels and last night, all night, he spoke in my dreams. "Dish, Antoine is about to hurl to get your attention because you're not feeding him at 3am." Then I heard Shannon Tweed, who is so loveable and fun. All night long. Today I bathe in their common-law auras though will refrain from searching them out (as Dish often does during the onset of obsession).

What's Up...

...with all these summer disaster movies on Sunday night? We've had two meteor/planet collisions with Earth (stop talking about my butt) and tonight, I will enjoy The Storm. These shows star a flock of has-beens--James Van Der Beek, Luke Perry, the hot chick from Species, all of whom analyze tons of scientific data and report on "wave pulses." My happiness originates from the fact that two of these three disasters star David James Elliott who is too beautiful for words. Ooh, gotta go, the Mojave Desert is turning to ice. Wonder if the human race will survive!

Destiny

If Lindsey Buckingham dropped dead, I think he'd wait for Stevie Nicks and greet her when she kicked it. Some couples never die. I'm watching The Dance and the electricity is still there. How could he resist a tiny blonde who wears feathers and sings like a lamb? How could she stay away from his acoustic hotness and big blue eyes? Don't tell me they aren't pining even though they've moved on. The exes even kiss at the end of "Landslide" and there might have been tongue. Oh wait, this is so twelve years ago. Oops...this is what happens when 3/4 nights you get 4 hours of sleep.