Lost in Scandal...

It's a time of hibernation for me. Not only do I genuinely hate the holidays but I am gathering energy. I'm learning my lines, staring into space, finding contentment in simple things. Like...

I'm obsessed with Scandal. The acting is some of the worst I've ever seen, but I can't stop watching. TG talks to me. I don't quite hear because Olivia Pope is in deep sh*t and she's f*cking the President of the United States every chance he gets. Who knew the a-hole from Ghost could have such a hunky middle-aged resurrection? Then there's Olivia Pope's wardrobe. I hate that she can be upright with that tiny body but then I look at her face and thank the heavens that there is such beauty in the world. Though I don't like Olivia as a character. She doesn't have any fun. It's all I can think about right now. Olivia. Cyrus. That snotrag Mellie (like Nellie from Little House) who's also Hotch's love interest on Criminal Minds. The grumpy-faced sociopath cracks me up. And Josh Malina, who is in anything political or written by Aaron Sorkin, finally, finally gets to bang a hot chick instead of play the nerd (in addition to playing the nerd).

In real celebrity life, I'm trying to come to terms with the rumor of Julia Roberts being pregnant again. She's betrayed me so many times. Now this. Can't she just be fat? For the love of those of us above 40, please let it just be a thickening middle (for me it's a fat ass). I'm eating a See's caramel just for you, Jules.

Rest in Peace, Paul Walker, While Dish Sobs

It's been a rough few days. Not rough enough for me to go to the Paul Walker crash site. I've been too busy and we know it takes a village to get me on a plane. But I'm in mourning over PW's senseless demise. For a very stupid reason. I'll confess it here. Blonds don't do it for me, except for three...now two.

1. Jason Lewis (without the long hair, he's pushing it)
2. Daniel Craig

The rest--hideous. Brad Pitt--yick. Alex Skarsbar--gag. Now only two. Blond women, gorgeous. Not to be superficial or anything.

Seriously, though, PW's death saddens me. That poor daughter of his will miss him terribly. What makes it worse is the minute to minute updates. Blah...

Do You Ever Have Days...

...when you intend to do so much but instead lie on the couch? Dish did this most of today. I confess--yes, I fell under the spell of Gilmore Girls, a carrot cake muffin and then a sneaky, sneaky pecan bar that I thought to give to TG but ate it myself. Meanwhile TG cooks me a great dinner, volunteers to drive family to the airport (which helps me 100%) and is really the best person ever. I am a melting-faced lazy slob. I'm okay with this.

The AMAs are on right now. I watched a little until I heard a couple of inarticulate speeches and witnessed the gymnastics of Harry Styles's hair. And now I can't get these words out of my head: "I held Michael Jackson's penis every night," which is now raging on the internets, said by the ex-doctor Conrad Murray. I'm sure he's not the only one. And I thought I had problems....

Adam Levine Is People's Sexiest Man Alive

I feel conflicted about this. The skanky part of me that I bury, the one that likes tattoos, thongs and bad boys, is deeply pleased that Adam was chosen. The other me is irritated by this choice. Another white boy, and one who's allegedly mean. But whatever. So much better than Pitt, Clooney and Depp, as in he's under 40. In my heart, I do feel Adam deserves this important award.

Today in violence: 

Where's your Nazi rice? Charles Manson is getting married to his twenty-five-year-old bride-to-be. I wonder if they met on Facebook. Hey, if he can find love, anyone can. Shuddering over thought of conjugal visits. We know I always go there...

Alec Baldwin's downward spiral: You know the circle will start again. Back on Twitter, more commercials, another baby, fight with paps, hitting, I'm a victim, etc... Kim Basinger didn't dodge the bullet, but she got out soon enough.

Alex Rodriguez stormed out of a hearing about his using no-no juice to play like a rock star.

Even Lower Blows in Housewifeland

When Brandi Glanville talks about the foul scent of another housewife's nether parts, I decide to get off this train. This is far too nasty, even for a girl-squabble-lovin' Dish. The fake backdoor booty begging between Scott Disick and Kourney compelled me to erase them from Keeping Up with the Kardashians. And now, BG has taken me to a new place. I've rooted for Brandi all along but this season and outside of the housewives, it's difficult. Is it the booze? "I just tell it like it is" is not an excuse to be an a**hole, even if you're talking about an a**hole.

Which brings me to Alec Baldwin. I adore him on SNL and in movies, but the constant appearance in the tabloids (and his talk show) has killed that respect. There is no "poor me" here. The alleged stalker he allegedly pissed off took up so much space in the rags the week. Victimless crimes.

Except for my poor eyes, which are bleeding. Sadly, this won't stop me.

New Members of the Get a Life Club

Charlie Sheen and Brooke Mueller and some judge are feudin' and gaggin' over custody of the twins, who must be so severely damaged by their crazy rents that TG and I are ready to open our loving arms to these boys, bring them into our dusty cubicle of an apartment and raise them to read books, be snootie-mcsnoots about mediocrity and eat Poptarts (we love those). Welcome to the club.

Tom Cruise allegedly alleges that his stunt work is like a tour of Afghanistan. Just uttering something close to this is blasphemy. I don't even say "military" since I might be misunderstood. You don't mess with the soldiers. They actually face death. Tom is just fine--sipping on his vitamin-enriched space juice. Welcome to the club, Tom. And me too because, hell, I love all his movies, even the shitty ones. Love ya, Tom, even though you kinda suck!

Doug and Courtney--fighting for their love, or separated. Can't tell but let's see how much we can cling desperately to fame by making out in public and say that we're separated. Here's what Dish thinks. She wants to bang someone else. I mean fifty more years with this guy? I can't take another hour! Get my fake boobs and schoolgirl laugh outta the House of Ben Gay.

Real Housewives of Beverly Hills: Loving the 'tude. Loving the filler on Brandi's face. Love that she has such a hot boyfriend and their awkwardness on television. They just want to run into a bathroom and boink since talking is so strange for them. New brunette housewives, but waiting for the claws. Get a life because this show won't last that much longer.

Vanderpump Rules: Losers keep dating and breaking up with losers. Get a life, gorgeous waitstaff.

Parenthood: My love for Lauren Graham grows each day. I love how she's gained weight since her Gilmore Girl years. She's a normal woman, beautiful, luscious, fun and makes me feel the same way. Plus, only she can help make Ray Romano hotter than hell. They don't need to get lives because they sizzle our socks off.

Too Much Demise in One Week...

First Marcia Wallace, then Lou Reed follow the white light into legend, both icons--if you remember Newhart along with The Simpsons. Lou Reed I discovered in high school, though more powerfully when Duran Duran covered one of his songs.

Even sadder to me, one of my classmates collapsed at a gym and passed away last week--massive heart attack. I didn't know him well but during a party in 2008, I was there with a questionable boyfriend. Said classmate told me I looked amazing and touched my ass while reaching for his drink. It was the most affection I'd gotten in a while so I appreciated it. Five seconds later, he was seriously PDA-ing with his girlfriend. I've spent the last 24 hours reading tributes to him on his FB page. Very sobering, thus lack of attention to the stars.

My update is yesterday's news: Jamie Dornan is the new Christian Grey--another fine casting choice. And if you've seen him play a serial killer on The Fall, you are so excited. He may even be more appropriate than Charlie Hunnam, though not as raw and sexy. More like serial killer/dangerous sexy. He will be an eerie and intense Christian.

There was a seriously stupid public display of cheating between Katherine McPhee and her Smash director, who is married to goddess Mary McCormack, who must be totally pissed. If you don't want pictures taken, don't make out in public, you idiots!

So this went viral. I still sort of think Russell is a jackass. This didn't totally blow my mind but I'll buy into it a little.

Lauren Graham Is My New Julia

I didn't stand a chance. To become my new imaginary best friend, the woman unleashed a five-pronged attack:

1. Using ESP, Lauren planted a seed for me to start watching Gilmore Girls, 10 years after it was popular. Lorelei is infuriating, sweetly manic, gorgeous and hard to get out of the psyche once there.

2. Again, using her powerful telepathic powers, Lauren programmed me to consider her performance in Parenthood, a newer program where she plays a Lorelei-esque character (I forget the name, but somehow she and the most annoying person to me--Ray Romano--have this hot on-screen chemistry. Now RR appeals to this former-hater #laurenpower).

3. This prompted me to remember that her real-life boyfriend is Peter Krause, TG's same-sex crush (it's not sexual, just man-love) from Six Feet Under, who plays her brother on Parenthood.

4. Her book, Someday, Someday, Maybe, came out recently-ish and because Dish is intensely lazy, ordered it on audiotape to listen to at bedtime. Do I dare admit, there's nothing better than listening to Lauren as you go to Lily White's Party (my parents' lie to get me to sleep). Her story is pretty good, my subconscious reports.

5. In doing this math, I deem her a delight. Plus, she's older than I am and looks like Wonder Woman, which means I love her.