Full House to Crack House and Back Again

Netflix has decided to take a steaming, messy dump on the legacy of Full House, a show that's been dead for twenty years, with a 13-episode sequel Fuller House, and the only good thing about this is that former meth head Jodie Sweetin finally has a job where her payment isn't left on the table when the hour is up.

Ain't That Grand!

I never heard of openly gay country-pop hottie Steve Grand until I stumbled upon some underwear photos on the internet a few months ago,

and those photos are the only explanation I have for why I was at a meet and greet before his Gramercy Theatre show Wednesday night.


Yes folks, the thirst is real.

I (got a) Shot (with) Annalise Keating!

Orchestrating murders and coverups and being all unruffled week after week in her sleek pea coats and uber-awesome plum lipstick, Viola Davis is totally rocking my Thursday nights at 10PM in a way they haven't been rocked since Donna Mills schemed her way through Knots Landing as Abby Ewing back in the '80s.  With her wigs and fake eyelashes and lotion and all around badass-ness, Annalise Keating is sexy and messy and vulnerable and strong and the sometimes lesbian lawyer I would call if I ever got busted for anything, even something as stupid as jaywalking or a parking ticket, and in the masterful hands of Viola Davis I am holding on for dear life every week until something insane happens in the last five minutes that makes me reach for the inhaler I don't own.

Cunty!

Erika Jayne is my favorite Real Housewife of any city of any season ever.  Who doesn't love a skanky fag-hag who likes nude illusion body-stockings and is married to a disgustingly wealthy, much older man?  I love her Pekinese at the Westminster Dog Show hair in her testimonials, I like how she calls herself Erica Jayne and Erica Girardi like they’re two different people, I like how she eats cake alone in the middle of the day and doesn’t give a shit, I like how she pumps out dance music for the tone deaf and introduced us to 'patting the puss', I like that she never wants to get rid of her fake boobs. I like it all.


But MAN was she cunty today in Rockefeller Center, and not in the cute, sassy, amazing way I was expecting, but in an aloof, can't be bothered, yeah let's get this over with so I can jump on one of my two jets and get back to my chapel in Pasadena way.  And that makes me a little sad.

Telenovela: A Type Of Limited Run Serial Drama

Last week was a rough one.  We lost Big Ang and Vanity, and I've been crying so much I'm dehydrated.  Thank God Telenovela is on tonight.  If you're not watching it you really should be.  Seriously, you should be...the ratings suck and it probably won't get renewed for a second season even though it's hysterically funny and the guys are HOT (and often shirtless).


Eva Longoria made the promo rounds last week,and is one of the nicest celebrities out there, taking time to pose for EVERY fan who asked for a photo, signing autographs that are now on ebay for $24.99, and swapping her UGGS for heels while her team touched up her makeup for the paparazzi waiting at every stop.  Seriously....she's a pro and she needs this job, so tune in tonight at 8:30 for the series season finale.

Mayweather For The Win?

I don't know shit about boxing, but I do know that illiterate baby mama beater Floyd Mayweather supports gay rights.  At least he did on Tuesday, telling my buddy Adam from TMZ "We should let people live their lives the way they want to live their lives. To each his own" when we caught up with him in midtown.  Who knew a guy whose job is to beat the fuck out of people could be so enlightened?

How To Get Away With Posting Something When You've Got Nothing

It's been a long week of chasing swimsuit models around town, then photo-shopping my double chin out of the photos with them, and boy am I tired. Tonight I'm gonna sit this big, fat, tired lazy ass down with a pint of Ben & Jerry's and watch How to Get Away With Murder.  Oooh, what a relief!  I'm exhausted.  Speaking of HTGAWM, here's Karla Souza, who plays Laurel.

The Second Annual Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Ignore the Fan Event

This morning I went to the gym and did 45 minutes of cardio, then had a ham, egg and cheese on croissant with sausage and hashbrowns without feeling any guilt.  That's because, for the first time in the history of the world, a 'plus size' model is appearing on the cover of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue.  One of the covers actually.  In an effort to increase sales celebrate all body types, Sports Illustrated released three different collector's covers featuring blonde war machine Ronda Rousey (in body paint by my friend Joanne Gair), all American beauty and future DiCaprio girlfriend Hailey Clauson, and size 16 stunner Ashley Graham.  And then they congratulated themselves for being 'inclusive' instead of the money hungry, opportunistic bullshitters they really are.  Having Ashley as the ONLY cover model would have been inclusive, but let's face it, they're not THAT brave. 


For the second year in a row, a 'fan event' was held, where people could meet and take photos with the models stand on one side of a cramped, roped off section while the models sat comfortably on couches comparing celebrity boyfriend stories, updating their social media, and ignoring all the losers who aren't rich, famous or handsome enough to get their attention.  Kinda like a petting zoo without any petting.  Luckily, I'm a pro at this, so I got to pet the animals.

The ONLY Time I Care About Sports Illustrated

It's that time of year again!  Fuck Valentine's Day, I'm talking about the annual Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue, which comes out next week to the excitement of white trash guys in middle America who don't have access to internet porn and still like to jerk off the old fashioned way.  I caught up with former cover babe Nina Agdal yesterday in Rockefeller Center, where we dished about a mutual friend who does the body painting and knows her intimate parts better than Adam Levine, Leonardo DiCaprio, Max George or any of the other guys who have dumped her recently, and then she struck a Cindy Lou Who bitch face pose because posing with clothes ON is confusing for her.

Who's That Working Girl?

She's always struck me as a fragile, half melted collagen candle that looks like she can only eat soft food, and I don't know if she's confused to see me or happy to see me, but Melanie Griffith couldn't have been sweeter leaving Sirius studios in midtown today.  Nothing like the malnourished airhead eager for her next crack hit that I was expecting.

HE Shot Annalise Keating!

After three goddamn months of waiting, How to Get Away With Murder is back tonight with a brand new episode!  When last we left the Keating five, I was staring at my TV screen the way I do when I try to make one of  Martha Stewart's meals and it's been two hours and I still haven't boiled a pot of water properly.  Smoking hot milk chocolate goodness Wes had just shot Annalise, who mumbled something about 'Christophe' as she bled out on the floor after telling him she'd been lying all season about his girlfriend being alive, and all hell broke loose as the credits rolled. 


Who the hell is Christophe?  What's his relation to Wes?  And what do Annalise and Eve (!) have to do with any of this?  (God this show is fucking with my mental health!)  You can bet we won't get answers tonight, but I'll be on the couch with my pint of ice cream or well assembled cheeseboard and assorted artisanal crackers anyway!

Ay Papi!

While living in Miami, a friend suggested that I watch telenovelas to help improve my Spanish.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, since the shows were a combination of some of my favorite things - comedy, soap opera and sexy latin men, often shirtless, but after more than a few episodes of Rebeca the only thing that improved was my ability to exit a room dramatically and I gave up.  Thankfully, Eva Longoria's new show Telenovela has all the good parts without that pesky Spanish, including a cast of hunky men each hotter than the last.  Jencarlos Canela plays Eva's ex-husband, and I guess he's some kind of big deal singer/actor in the latin community who is trying to cross over into the US market.  Like Ricky Martin, or Selena before the bullet.

A Family Affair

It's always nice seeing my cousin Antonio when he's in town.  We caught up over lunch yesterday (not really), him filling me in on how the wife and kids are doing and what's going on in Hollywood, me regaling him with tales of life in the big Apple.  We promised to do a better job of keeping in touch, (we all know how THAT goes) and took a photo together before he headed back to LA and I headed back to my legal billing job.  #life

Miss Manners

You all know that next to supermodels I love me some Real Housewives - doesn't matter where, I'll watch them all.  I've seen them flip tables in Jersey, snatch wigs in Atlanta, buy miniature horses and take swans to the vet in Beverly Hills and get Turtle Time wasted in NYC, so when Andy Cohen announced that he was adding The Real Housewives of Potomac to the rotation this year I cleared my DVR in anticipation.  I'm glad I did, because these catty bitches throw shade HARD, all while hiding behind "etiquette and proper decorum."  Self proclaimed queen bitch in charge Karen Huger had the balls to hand "The Five Rules of Etiquette When Attending a Birthday Party" to a woman that was sitting in her seat!  During the first episode!  Touchdown Karen, you brokedown Diana Ross looking, full ball gown during your testimonials wearing, appalling kitchen countertop owning hussy!  WERQ bitch!