They Come From A Land Down Under

Longtime readers of this blog know I'm a sucker for a Real Housewives franchise.  Bravo could air The Real Housewives of The Gaza Strip or The Real Housewives of The Shady Dell Trailer Park and I'd be glued to the television as Zarema worries whether her husband will return home safe from jihad or watch as Bobbie Sue and Amber argue over who should make the tuna noodle casserole for the annual block party, because somewhere along the way I've been brainwashed into believing that table flipping, prosthetic leg throwing prostitution whores with bad plastic surgery, too much money and zero self awareness are entertaining.  Needless to say, I'm hooked on The Real Housewives of Melbourne, which Janet, Jackie and Chyka were in town to promote.  Don't we look good together?  I think Andy Cohen needs to add me to one of the franchises.  My tagline could be "Forget the Countess...make room for the Queen!"

'Ello Guvnah!

I'm not a fan of his movies or his politics and I'll never understand why he fucked that ugly maid, but he was my Governor for awhile and he did compliment me on my workout once at the gym, so here's a piece of beef jerky dehydrated under a heat lamp Arnold Schwarzenegger at the Apple Store yesterday, promoting some zombie virus movie I won't see.

Hips(ter) Don't Lie

Reaching new levels of pretentiousness, indie hipster it-girl Chloë Sevigny just released a coffee table book full of photos of herself, which is the only way to explain how I found myself sitting on the hemp carpet covered floor of an Urban Outfitters in midtown last night with a room full of twenty-something, pimple covered, patchouli smelling hipster girls just back from Coachella.  #awkward!  I mean, Coachella is SO 2006, and I haven't been in Urban Outfitters in years since I have no need for flannel or skull caps, so I was clearly out of my element, (though I would not have been surprised or disappointed when the pot brownies got passed around because it was that kind of thing) but I needed to see the actress so 'method' she actually gave head to Vincent Gallo in Brown Bunny for myself, because let's face it....that's fucking dedication!  Have you seen Vincent Gallo?

Turning the evening's edge up a bit was Sonic Youth bassist and alternative rock legend Kim Gordon, who I feel bad about lying to to get this picture.  I mean, I WAS gonna read her new memoir Girl in a Band, but I haven't been near a bookstore, library or computer with the internet open to Amazon or eBay since it came out, so maybe I was a bit premature telling her how much I enjoyed it.

Guy Walks Into A Psychiatrist's Office

Anyone who knows me knows I could use a little therapy ("A little?" - anyone who knows me) so when someone recommended Dr. Jennifer Melfi I thought I'd give it a shot.  I mean, she's treated homicidal mobsters dodging hits put out by their mothers so I should be a breeze, right?

Kevin and Kumar Go To White Castle

I recently tried White Castle for the first time, and it lived up to its reputation, which is to say that 15 minutes after eating it I shit out my skeleton and we had a lovely time talking about how thin we looked.  Unless you're constipated or a hungry stoner I don't get the appeal, but since it's 4/20 here's Kumar, who I ran into there.

Throwback Thursday - That 70's Show!

Since it's Throwback Thursday, let's throw it all the way back to the days of vaseline lenses, hot pants and pink curlers, the 70's.  Carter was President, disco was in, and I was a gay boy dreaming of a life as exciting as what I saw on Battle of the Network Stars.

Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman was every gay boy's dream of glamor and power, with a tiara, hot hooker boots, magic bracelets and her own damn jet, fighting crime with her hair perfectly styled, set and sprayed.  Plus she could change her clothes by twirling around!  To this day, I still get dizzy whenever I try that!

Suzanne Somers was the sexy girl next door (if you lived on the beach next to a clumsy guy pretending to be gay, a pervy landlord and his wife with the hideous caftans, and that whiny pixie haired homely girl that ran the flower shop) before she quit that bitch to make millions capitalizing on the insecurity of fat chicks with her thighmaster bullshit.

And didn't we all want to be little Vicki Stubing, sailing all over the damn place on The Love Boat instead of going to school?  Cruises seemed so exotic to me until my first - to Ensenada, Mexico, the poorest dirtiest, saddest little town I've ever seen in my life (and I grew up just outside of Buffalo, so that's saying something!) - and now they just seem like floating cesspools of norovirus and unlimited buffets.

And now I'm off to the chiropractor because I'm not used to throwing it so far back and I think I threw my hip out.

The Second Time Around

Back in February I spent hours waiting in the bitter cold with a busted foot for a photo with Jody Watley, only to be disappointed when she jumped straight into the SUV after her show at BB King's.  Well I am nothing if not persistent, and today that persistence paid off!  I may have gushed like a fan boy about the BB King show and maybe committed sacrilege by telling her that her version of Borderline is better than Madonna's (it is!) but I don't care because I got my photo with the pop diva AND a little inside scoop on an NYC show that hasn't been announced yet!!!  Not like the first time....first time...talkin' 'bout the second time!

Still A Hot Slab of Canadian Bacon

Ryan Gosling took a break from fucking Eva Mendes to direct a film that I probably won't see (and neither will you), and he was running on full smolder today at the Apple store to promote it.  I may be captivated by the velvety maple syrup essence that wafts off him when he cracks a smile, but unless he jumps into porn the only film I'm interested in seeing is the daily adventures of his abs. 

Bueller!

If you'd told me that one day I'd spend my lunch hour with Ferris Bueller, Rizzo from Grease, Albert from The Birdcage (and Katie Finneran) I'd say you've lost your mind, but someone at Sirius must like me because that's how I spent my lunch hour today.  Currently starring in It's Only A Play on Broadway, Matthew Broderick, Stockard Channing, Nathan Lane (and Katie Finneran) turned up for a Sirius town hall today, talking with Broadway fans (a.k.a. a handful of fags and old ladies that could get to the studio in time) about their careers, the show and blah blah blah who cares???  I got a photo with Ferris Bueller!!!  (And Katie Finneran.)

Teeny MMMBop

The shitty thing about being a teen singing sensation is that sooner or later you hit puberty and your voice changes, and there's always some floppy haired, squeaky voiced kid with a purity ring waiting in the wings to snatch the mic and your career right out of your hands.  Exhibit A: Hanson.  In town to promote something that isn't MMMBop 2, one of them tried to blow off this photo claiming they were "in a hurry to a business meeting."  Bitch, you disappeared for 17 years and nobody noticed.  You can be a few minutes late to your meeting.

Just Duckie

Somewhere in a filthy meth strewn mansion in Beverly Hills, Charlie Sheen is cackling like a maniac while simultaneously doing blow off a hooker's ass and reading accounts of his antics in Jon Cryer's new memoir So That Happened.  That's right, Duckie wrote a memoir, chronicling his career making some of the 80's most iconic films, the years of failed marriages, failed TV series and just missed roles (Chandler Bing!  Daniel in Karate Kid!) and the Two and a Half Men global shitshow and I bet it's a hell of a read!  What I really want to know is if Molly Ringwald was as big a bitch in the 80's as she is now.

Cum to Jesus

There is a fetish out there for just about everything, and I'm ashamed to say that mine might be the Jesus porn NBC miniseries A.D. The Bible Continues, starring Argentinian hottie Juan Pablo de Pace.  The Catholic Church missed a serious marketing opportunity because if Jesus was this hot when I was a kid I wouldn't have tried to get out of Sunday school every week.  I might have even been an altar boy.  Hell, I coulda been the Pope!

Zigazig Ah!

I don't know about you, but Victoria Beckham has always been my favorite Spice Girl.  She doesn't eat, never smiles, poses the shit out of herself like some kind of robot praying mantis and gets to bang David Beckham whenever she wants.  She is my spirit animal.  So of course, today being April Fools Day, I met Mel B. instead.