Generic blonde to marry pro athlete - déjà vu much?

My dearest Sassies, 

Since the holiday season is upon us, and numerous family events await me, after today, my posts may be sparse until early January. But do not despair. I repeat: do not despair! I will return as feisty as ever in the new year offering my insightful commentary on all that is pop culture and disappointing about human nature. 

Speaking of disappointing, with a big fat hint of irony, People.com reported today that Carrie Underwood is engaged to NHL player Mike Fisher. Hmm. Pretty blond will marry pro athlete. We all know where this is headed. Why do women marry pro athletes? Do they want to suffer? Hey Carrie, don't sign a pre-nup. That way, when Mike cheats on you and you find out, you can leave him and take him for all he's worth. Just sayin'.

Also replete with irony, an interview Tiger Woods gave on Larry King Live on June 10, 1998. When asked if he wanted to get married, Tiger said no, and that someday he'd have to "surrender" and take the plunge. His voice was heavy with reticence. Prophetic? Oh yes. It was all there,  even 11 years ago. 

So my question to Tiggy is: why the hell did you get married if you didn't want to in the first place? Sow your wild oats, be a pro athlete, live it to the fullest. Then, when you're like 40 or 45 and you want to settle down, you'll be happy about it. It ain't rocket science. And if you don't want to get married, then don't. Look at George Clooney. How many men envy his life? 'Nuf said. 

On that my Sassies, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Tata for now!

Another Hollywood Casualty

There's no way around this one - it's posted all over the gossip-scape. 32-year-old actress Brittany Murphy died of cardiac arrest. Another Hollywood casualty. It's really no mystery. Young girl comes to La-La-Land with big dreams of stardom, gets a breakout role in a popular movie, then decides she needs to be skinny and blond in order for her career to continue its ascension. 

What's truly sad is that Brittany's death is a symptom of the commodification of young women in Hollywood. They are not actresses but walking advertisements, displaying some impossible ideal of female beauty, getting us regular folk to buy shit we don't need by making us feel inadequate.

Never underestimate the Hollywood selling machine. Sure, only we can let other people make us feel less than perfect. But when you're a young, impressionable teenager, those messages are incredibly difficult to ignore, and even more challenging to shake off as an adult who's been programmed to believe in those ideals. 

There's no concrete info on exactly why Brittany suffered a cardiac arrest at such a young age but I'd hazard a few guesses: eating disorder, drugs, obsession about her position on the Hollywood food chain. Apparently, friends of hers are claiming Brittany had major body image issues. No shit Sherlock. 

Can you blame her? If I was living in L.A., trying to fight my way as an actress into the film industry, I'd probably be voluntarily tossing my breakfast, downing the Joe like I'd stumbled upon a desert oasis and popping pills that made me forget I had an appetite. 

The tragedy here is that women simply accept these standards, without question; standards that weren't by any means determined by them. The result is a sea of bland, homogeneous, skinny blondes with issues, forfeiting talent for that "perfect" look. 

Baldwin bestows blessing upon NYU

My first blogging milestone: this is my 50th post!Woohoo!

I do a lot of bitching in this blog so when something good happens on the celebrity front, I feel I must balance out the bitch with benevolence. I adore Alec Baldwin. But I adore him even more after this. Alec has donated $1 million dollars to establish a drama scholarship at New York University's Tisch School of the Arts. How cool is that? 

I've seen Alec in many movies but I really started to appreciate the full breadth of his talents when I watched him, on numerous occasions, host Saturday Night Live. I had no idea he was so comedically gifted. 

Then I saw him interviewed on Inside the Actor's Studio with James Lipton. Alec was one of the most entertaining guests that show has ever had. The way he was able to completely transform himself in a matter of seconds into any character, without inhibition, was astounding. Again, I was dumbfounded by how talented an actor this guy really is.

Then came 30 Rock, and that sealed the deal. Jack Donaghy is Alec Baldwin's crowning jewel. The delivery, the timing, the physicality, and his awesome chemistry with my girl crush, Tina Fey, make this one of my all-time favorite shows. 

All this makes me practically forget his earlier, more volatile days with Kim Basinger, and calling his daughter a "rude, thoughtless little pig". Hey, nobody's perfect. I'm not excusing his behaviour but I sense he's been through the ringer, big time, post-divorce. Kim strikes me as unstable. This is never good. 

On another note, Alec will be co-hosting the 2010 Academy Awards with Steve Martin. I think I just wet myself thinking of the ridiculously high comedic quotient of this duo. Kudos to the Academy for this judicious choice. Please use them wisely and often. The show tends to get seriously dull right around the time the host wraps up his/her opening spiel.

Here's one of the best segments of Alec on Inside the Actor's Studio. Awesome. 

Lindsay Lohan - the new face of humanitarianism?

I love good writing. I stand in awe of it. I aspire to acquire. Here's a great blog entry from the Guardian regarding Lindsay Lohan's most recent foray into humanitarian ventures - a trip to India to film a documentary with the BBC3 on human trafficking. I know what you're all thinking. Huh? Lindsay Lohan and the BBC in the same sentence? Lindsay Lohan and humanitarian efforts in the same sentence? I know. 

Apparently, the BBC3  is the ghetto version of the BBC. At least that's the impression I'm getting from this blog post. So that could explain why they've chosen to pursue a venture with loopy Lohan. How else could this make sense? 

Best quote ever: "her (Lindsay's) Twitter feed - live from India - has the flavour of a lobotomised captain's log." Those Brits and their feisty wit - LOVE it. If you don't want to read the whole post, be sure to check out the four questions at the very end - they're gold.

Lindsay tries, and fails. Spectacularly. She is a girl steeped in delusions of grandeur which makes her all the more tragic, if in a very comical fashion. I mean, let's face it, no one takes Lindsay seriously. At least, not anymore. Is this really the person who should be using her celebrity, or should I say, notoriety, to draw attention to a legitimately serious problem such as human trafficking?

It's bad enough the French fashion house Ungaro hired Lindsay as a style consultant. But this? No. Fashion disasters can be fixed or laughed at. Human trafficking, however, deserves better than Lindsay.

Goodbye Dexter, Hello Lost

My dear Sassies, I had a near orgasmic evening of TV viewing last night. It all started when my boyfriend and I went  shopping at Costco last week. Of course, everything at Costco is dirt cheap, including DVDs. Try to walk away. You can't. And I couldn't. Season 5 of Lost was beckoning, calling my name. So I bought it. And now we're watching it. Damn, that is good TV. There's also a short refresher in case you forgot what happened in earlier seasons, and thank God for that. Holy complicated Batman! Season 5 does not disappoint. It's a mind bender for sure but we're starting to get answers to some big questions. LOVE it. 

If you haven't watched Lost, start from the beginning. Otherwise, you'll hate it because you'll have no freakin' idea who's who and what's going on. It's worth it. Just don't ever watch it when you're tired or distracted. You must pay attention. Every episode reveals something.

Then there was the Dexter Season 4 finale last night. Sweet Mother of God. Holy f*cking cliffhanger. It was a totally unpredictable turn of events. I had a feeling throughout the episode that loose ends were being tied with great ease, perhaps too much ease. Until the ending. I won't reveal it here so as not to spoil it for those of you who haven't seen it yet. But DAMN, I did not see that coming. 

And now we have to wait. Wait for Season 5. And who knows how long that will be. This brings sadness to my heart. Dexter is over for now. True Blood isn't back until June, Curb your Enthusiasm's latest season wrapped a few weeks ago and Glee won't return until April. And in about a week or so, we'll have finished watching Season 5 of Lost. It's like looking into a deep, dark abyss. What happens when there's nothing on TV? I shudder at the thought.

My boyfriend and I also noticed a new TV term popping up this season - the "fall finale". WTF? It's not bad enough that a top show  like Glee won't be returning until f*cking April, now you have a finale before the finale? No, I don't like this. As my boyfriend said, it distresses him. I share this sentiment. A fall finale seems to give TV networks the permission to not air a show for months, right in the middle of a prime viewing period. This makes no sense to me. Damn networks. You have us by the balls. I hate you.

Looming TV Wasteland and Michelle Obama's Arms

No more Glee until April. That's just not right. Especially after having left us with multiple cliffhangers. Dexter and Californication are also nearing the end of their latest seasons. I'm beginning to feel a slight panic at what may be a desertification of the TV landscape, if only temporarily. 

I'll have to watch re-runs of Six Feet Under to console myself. And the fifth season of Lost. Of course, I may have to watch the first four all over again to remember what the hell happened. So good but so complicated... I also managed, in the last few weeks, to watch the entire first season of The United States of Tara. SO good. Toni Collette is sublime - LOVE her. Now I must wait for the second season - don't know when it's coming out. Boo.

Following Glee, my boyfriend and I watched Barbara Walters' 10 Most Fascinating People of 2009 Special. Underwhelming, to say the least. This type of show should be two hours long instead of one. The interviews consisted of what felt like 30-second sound bites, and just as they were getting interesting, it was over and Barbara moved on to the next guest. Lame.

To add insult to injury, during her short interview with Michelle Obama, who was at the top of the list, Barbara wasted precious time asking her about her arms. Her ARMS for Christ's sake. You're talking to one of the most intelligent, fascinating first ladies in recent history, and you ask her about her freakin' workout regime? Is this how superficial we've become? Damn. 

Pumpkin Picking Pulchritudinous Over Perspicacious

It's the Twilight Zone of celeb gossip. Apparently, Jessica Simpson and Billy Corgan, of Smashing Pumpkins fame, are now an item, as in a couple. Huh? This makes no sense to me. My brain cannot compute. Ditzy, dumbass, talent-lacking blond dating hard-core, probably intelligent, alt-rocker. No, this cannot be. Only in some strange, parallel universe would this even be possible.

Perhaps Billy is conducting some kind of social experiment, an anthropological study on the effects of dating fame whoring idiots. Maybe he needs new material from which to write angry songs. I refuse to believe that these two have anything remotely in common. And poor Jessica will have her heart broken, once again. First Nick, then John, then Tony, then Daisy. Oh Jessica, this will only lead to disaster. Date someone who is at least as vacuous as you are. Then you might actually have a chance at real happiness.

How on earth will Billy introduce Jessica to his alt-rock buds with a straight face? I mean, come on. This liaison has about as much chance of working out as Lindsay Lohan has of making a comeback. Billy, please don't give yourself over to the dark side, unless it's an undercover gig with a greater purpose. You're still a respected artist. Do you really want to be the next schmuck who is dating Jessica Simpson?

This is what you two would look like, if you were pumpkins. Guess which one is Jessica.

Tiger-mania broadens as list of mistresses grows

I can't stop thinking about it. It's been on the front page of the newspaper for days. I can't get away from it. And it's only growing bigger and badder. I want to blog about other stuff but this is in the forefront of my psyche and won't go away. Oprah once called him her SON for Christ's sake. I understand if you're getting bored with my Tiggy-mania and wish I would talk about something else. I will, eventually. But not today.

This morning's headlines indicated that Tiggy's brood of alleged mistresses has grown to ten women, one of them a porn star, and another who has publicly stated that Tiggy is very well endowed. His wife has apparently moved out of their home in Florida. His mother-in-law was rushed to the hospital with "stomach pains", i.e., the stress is getting to her.

A few days ago, this was a bit of a PR mess. This is now an all-out PR debacle - "What we have here is a failure to communicate." Tiggy, get your ass out of the woods (no pun intended). Face the music or this will not go away, at least not any time soon. There will be continuing speculation and public confessions from your alleged bevy of lady friends. 

This is getting ugly - very, very ugly. Where is your slick PR machine when you need it the most? Time to do some damage control or continue to watch your life spin out of control. And dammit, I'm tired of waking up every morning to a "new development" in the Tiger Woods scandal. You're starting to take up way too much space on the celeb gossip circuit. Don't become the next Jon and Kate Gosselin. You're better than that.

Tiggy's Mistress Loony Over Lascivious Behaviour

People at People, you make my life. Alleged Tiger Mistress Angry About His Other Women. Wow. You're sleeping with a married guy and you're pissed off that he was cheating with not only you but a few others as well? I know what you're all thinking my Sassies. How much of a dumbass can you be? 

Best quote ever: "She (Rachel Uchitel) started out for sport and then they clicked." Referring to her and Tiger Woods, of course. She started out for sport? SPORT? Well, I guess birds of a feather flock together. You know, she's an athlete, and her sport is men. Tiggy's an athlete, and his sport is golf. So they probably had a lot in common. 

I was reading up on Tiggy's situation over the weekend. It's not pretty. Tiggy's a bit of a slut. You know, all that pressure of being the richest athlete EVER. He needed to blow off some steam, get naked with some chicks, and frolick about. I mean, what is so wrong with that? 

I'll tell you what's wrong with that - if you're gonna f*ck around, why even bother getting married? Stay single. F*ck around all you want. Don't lie. Don't deceive. That's for cowards. Be a f*cking man. This mistress bullshit, Tiggy, it's beneath you.

I guess one interesting question comes out of this, and it's a great line I heard in the movie Funny People over the weekend, which lends itself perfectly to this situation: "It's easy not to cheat when no one wants to f*ck you." Good point. But what does it say about us when temptation comes knocking, and we instantly give in?

Pretty won't save you from cheatin' hearts

In my teens, I struggled with body image issues. I thought my nose was too big, my boobs weren't perky enough, and that I should be much skinnier, like the models in magazines. I thought being physically flawless = being loved. As I have often learned, this is not so. I've been reminded of this once more in the midst of this Tiger Woods debacle. His wife is stunning - a gorgeous Swedish former bikini model. And yet, he still strayed. 

I thought Jennifer Aniston was pretty close to physically perfect. Then Brad strayed too. 

Time and again it dawns on me - looks aren't everything. I mean, don't get me wrong. I know we are an incredibly vain society, and looks are a big chunk of the equation. But, evidently, they don't guarantee love or fidelity. Of course, these beautiful women may be totally crazy behind closed doors (I suspect Angelina has a touch of the crazy) which makes them intolerable to live with. Who knows. 

I'm reminded of a French film I once saw. I forget the title but it starred Gérard Dépardieu. He was married to a bombshell who was totally frigid, and having an affair with his very average looking secretary who happened to be an incredible lover because she was warm and uninhibited. The lesson here? Pretty wears off. Personality doesn't.

Apparently, Tiggy and his Swedish babe are holed up in their Orlando mansion undergoing intense couples' counseling. I guess being rich and pretty doesn't insulate you from the crappy stuff in life. If Jennifer Aniston can become "the lonely girl", anything is possible. 

It's kind of freeing really. We could learn a lesson from this and ease up on our vanity. I've found that people who simply embrace who they are, no matter what, are much more interesting, and naturally put everyone else at ease. Those who are incredibly beautiful usually tend to be incredibly vain, and are constantly worrying about how they look. Yawn. Can you imagine hanging out with someone like that? Think Mena Suvari in American Beauty.

Being perfect is a pain. Being imperfect is limitless.

Celebrity Dirt of Orgiastic Proportions

There is a veritable smorgasborg of celeb dirt out there today. Tiger's cheating, Mrs. Keaton's gay, and a new exposé on Brangelina is set to hit bookshelves by Christmas. Damn.

Let's start with the demise of Tiger Woods. Oh Tiggy. Why? Why did you have to go whoring about? I held you in such high esteem. You're a superb athlete and strike me as an all-around classy guy. I know nobody's perfect but still... It hurts Tiggy, it really does. And so soon after the Letterman scandal. You may as well come clean. Forget the thinly veiled confessions of adultery. Be direct. Fess up. Learn from Letterman. No one is talking about his indiscretions anymore. Why? Because there's no dirt left to uncover. Letterman made sure of that. Letterman is f*cking smart. Get his number. 

Meredith Baxter of 80's Family Ties fame is gay. She has officially come out of the closet. Well, slap my ass and call me Judy. I grew up watching Family Ties, and loved it. I guess that would explain her three failed marriages to men. Oh, Mrs. Keaton, I will always hold you dear to my TV-loving heart. Good on you for having found your authentic self. 

An exposé on Brangelina, of highly questionable credibility, will be out in time for Christmas. Apparently, Angelina is a total control freak, Brad is weak, and a break-up is imminent. Hmm... not sure if I buy it. These two strike me as incredibly smart and not averse to f*cking with the press. Sure, Ange strikes me as  less stable than Jennifer Aniston. But I sense Jennifer is incredibly vain, and that can be really annoying. And I'm guessing sex is better with crazy than with vain. Jen would always be worrying about her hair or something.

On a more tragic note, a former Miss Argentina died from complications after cosmetic buttocks surgery. She was 38 years old and a mother of twins. Sweet Jesus. This quote, from the Huffington Post article, really captures it all: "A woman who had everything lost her life to have a slightly firmer behind." Jennifer, pay attention. Extreme vanity can cause bodily harm resulting in death. Take heed.

Rihanna talks out of her ass and Barbara Walters disappoints

My dear Sassies, it is December 1st. The day I allow myself to whip out my collection of Christmas music and play it incessantly at my desk until the big 2-5. Yes, I am one of those people. I also have a collection of films I watch every year before Christmas: Love Actually, The Holiday, Sleepless in Seattle. Don't ask. Even I can't explain it. I think my family is still waiting for an explanation of the pink, fluffy star I bought for the top of the Christmas tree last year. This year, I'll be adding glitter glue to the star. It will be a Merry Christmas indeed. But I digress. Onto other, more pressing matters.

Oh people at People, how would I entertain myself without you? Today, I came across an article titled: Rihanna calls leak of naked pictures 'humiliating'. She claims the photos in question were taken for her boyfriend at the time, and followed that up with this gem: "if you don't send your boyfriend naked pictures, then I feel bad for him." Oh sweetie. Have you learned nothing? If you even have the remotest chance of becoming famous at some point, you don't EVER send naked pictures to ANYONE for ANY REASON. Of course they will end up on the Internet for public consumption. 

You must understand that as soon as you become famous, we will want to tear you down from that pedestal so we can feel better about ourselves or steal it from you. I know, it sounds so cruel. But facts are facts. Human nature is warped - it's a war of egos out there. Never forget that and you won't be "humiliated" again.

Speaking of humiliated, Barbara Walters should be for including Kate Gosselin in her "most fascinating people of 2009" list. Are you f*cking kidding me? Oh Barbara. I thought you, of all people, would have standards, and not pander to the lowest common denominator. Yes, Kate and her ex-hubby Jon have been on the covers of countless celeb mags over the past year but so have Brad and Angelina, Jennifer Aniston, Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. Could you not have chosen an actual celebrity instead of some fame whoring, control freak, suburban mom who sold out her family to a TV network? 

I've seen Kate Gosselin in interviews. She has nothing remotely "fascinating" to say. If anything, you start to feel sympathy for her equally fame whoring, yet less controlling, husband and her children. Watching paint peel is more interesting than listening to Kate. And what is with her hair? It's so distracting with its yuppie awfulness, I can't stand it.

Thank God Christmas is coming. It's my happy place, where the Kate Gosselins of the world can't get to me.