The "a" On The End Keeps Me Classy

As I'm sure most of you have heard Jaimie Lynn Spears has (sort of) named her baby after me. Obviously I felt overwhelmingly honored when I heard this news yesterday afternoon but I also felt a certain amount of shock in Jaimie Lynn's choice to bunk the family tradition that dictates naming her daughter Casey Jaime. Perhaps (like her own parents) she's saving that special name for baby number two though it seems presumptive to assume that Casey will be around for subsequent babies and I'm sad to see her let such a nice gender neutral first name go to waste -- we'd all hate to see a little girl cursed with some less female friendly name like "Rocko Jaimie" or "Benedict Jaime" but I'm sure that mother knows what she's doing, after all how can one doubt any decision made by a 16 year old baby mama from Louisiana especially with an older sister who serves as such a shining example of the perfect mother? Congratz Jaime Lynn and welcome to the world little miss Maddie Briann -- may you also kick family tradition in the face and find some way to keep yourself out of cheetos stained hotpants.

Common C-List Celebrity Tragedies

1. Lure of "Free Meth Tuesdays!" at Scientology headquarters too sweet to resist.
2. Theory that "If the people like to see a little leg why wouldn't they enjoy a peek at the lady pie?" completely convincing until point of execution.
3. Obama campaign so full up with Hollywood types that they are no longer willing to let you in if you haven't appeared in at least 1 actual movie not also starring Paris Hilton.
4. Paparazzi slowly realizing that constant flipping of the bird is really a desperate plea for a little action.
5. PETA beginning to reject offers to pose nude for animal rights claiming shock of seeing celebrities sans clothing has completely worn off.
6. Plan to gain publicity by dating Mary Kate foiled by Olsen twin's demand to see your AARP membership card.
7. Plan to get pregnant in order to drum up some love in the press severely hampered by your penis.
8. Cameo in Please Let the Dogs Out not paying enough to afford the specialty bras big enough to contain the huge ass boobs purchased with check from cameo in Porking the Rind.
9. African term that adopted offspring has been using in place of "mom" actually means "whore."
10. Reality TV cash cow now longer producing milk as viewing public slowly loses interest in watching you do crazy shit on the E network.

(Special thanks to The Mike Stand for much help in the brain storming department)

(This drivel is cross-posted at Burt Reynold's Mustache)

The Britney Comeback -- A Risk Analysis

Risk Statement	Impact (1-5)	Probability (1-5)	Exposure: ImpactxProbability	Mitigation Action
Popstar not capable of getting through interview without using the "word" 'y'all.'	3	5	15	Immediately begin covert pro-south advertising campaign called "Y'all are people too" or "Let me hear y'all yee-haw!" in hopes of endearing the music listening public to the vernacular and dialect of rural Louisiana
Abs not what they used to be. Popstar resistant to crunches, fickle public resistant to pudgy pop stars.	4	4	16	Convert popstar to Buddhism, leak story that belly is homage to her spiritual leader.
Popstar may become or may already be pregnant with the baby of her skeezy paparazzi boyfriend.	3	5	15	Chastity belt.
Popstar apt to flash her girly bits without warning.	3	4	12	Chastity belt mitigation suggested for above risk should address this as well. 2 birds, 1 very strong piece of metal.
Cheetos addiction leads to unsightly orange stains on clothing.	4	5	20	Signature color!

This Worries Me

How it Should Have Gone Down

ABC Reporter: So there you have it Joe, Obama has taken the lead in this impor--

ABC News Anchor (Joe): Bob, sorry to cut in here but we have some important news developments coming out of our LA affiliate, we’re going live to CeCe Hernandez who is on the scene

CeCe: Jose I am reporting from outside of Britney Spears’ mega huge house of fun and there is a flurry of activity here. It appears the Miss Spears has finally lost it. We hear that she has locked herself in the bathroom with her children and may or may not be spreading strawberry frosting on the floor to serve as a force field against the multitudes of police and firemen currently breaking down the door. This reporter thinks that the chica may be loco in the cabeza. Back to you Joe.

Joe: Thank you CeCe. This is ABC news, always bringing you the important stories of the day, now a message from our sponsor, Sandwiches Bigger Than Your Head.

What Actually Happened

ABC Dude: blah blah Iowa blah blah Obama blah blah you can totally use caucus as any form of speech the caucus caucused caucus caucusly.

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16 HOURS pass

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Brianna: WTF? Britbrit went crazy and I MISSED IT?!?! Why kind of media are we fostering here? I mean I care about the presidential race as much as the next girl but DUDES you have got to prioritize.

He Just Needs an Understanding Girlfriend To Teach Him How to Read.

My new boyfriend, Tim Riggins, is everything I look for in a paramour. Firstly, he’s 17 years old. And he has a severe alcohol problem. Also he’s a huge asshole. Also #2 he’s fictional. What more could a girl want? But what you can’t immediately see during a cursory viewing of Friday Night Lights is that when you really get to know Tim (which, believe me, I have because we are in a very serious relationship) you find that under the hot hot muscles and the stench of cheap beer he is a tortured soul. Tim loves Lila but she can’t get over being a pretentious stuck up bitch and see his true self. Tim is secretly super smart but his daddy never loved him enough and so he hides his smarts behind the pain! Tim has layers. Tim needs an older woman with an acute appreciation for pouty lips to show him what love is. Obviously I am his perfect match.

Those of you who see me as a smart mature young woman with a future might be shocked by my love for a juvenile hall bound high school football player but it's really quite predictable. Sure, outside of my couch potato fantasies I date nice boys. They may not regularly brush their hair and they might often have to cancel dates due to the demands of their guild but they have respectable jobs and button down shirts and 401K plans. They hardly ever do keg stands. But when snuggled up in front of the flickering TV light I turn into one of those girl who can see the good in the drunkard, the promise in the idiot and mostly, the hot ass hidden beneath the layers of clothing the FCC insists my dreams be draped in.

My TV boy trouble started with My So-Called Life. Brian was acing calculus; Jordan (literally) couldn’t read. Brian valiantly helped Angela pass math class; Jordan helped her to appreciate the romance of losing one’s virginity on a stained mattress inside of an abandoned house to a boy who most likely does not know your last name. Brian wrote Angela a heartfelt moving love letter (granted he signed it, “Jordan” because Brian has no self esteem); Jordan (after overcoming illiteracy – see? He has so much promise!) wrote a song for his car. Were this story unfolding in reality I’d have spent Saturday nights playing Risk with Brian (cause one look at that boy's mop and you could smell the love in the air) but since the tale is confined to inside of the cathode tube I was ordering a big plate full of Catalano (extra sauce!).

There have been exceptions to the bad boy rule. I was never a Dylan McKay girl, choosing instead to swoon over Brandon though I mostly blame this on the fact that when I took an honest look at my life in 1992 I had no choice but to recognize that in the 90210 universe I was obviously Andrea Zuckerman (Even if I wasn’t 45 years old.) and part of accepting the nerdy, not rich enough, fashion challenged part of myself was having a crush on the midwestern boy newspaper editor instead of the tortured surfer. (Though seriously that picture on the left is making me wonder if Brandon wasn't actually a girl, which would make sense -- that Emily chick always had a little lesbian vibe going on). Maybe my love for the geeky boys is isolated to California fantasy dramas since I also own a pair of underwear baring the message, “I’m a Seth Girl.” And I am. The comic book geek from the O.C. might be my perfect man. He makes wry comments about pop culture. He generally can’t hold a conversation with a female. He has somewhat ridiculous hair.

Brandon and Seth aside TV generally inspires the unhealthy Jerry Springer ready white trash in me. I was the only watcher in the Buffyverse to cheer on the Spike years. I mean sure he was a little rough around the edges with the drugs and the living in a crypt and the being a blood sucking killer but he LOVED Buffy! He loved her in a pathetic doe eyed sort of way (when he wasn’t loving her in a tossing her around, pulling her hair, sexing up The Slayer sort of way). He had spent 500 some years as a villain and Buffy turned him into a puppy! Post college I devoted Tuesday nights to Gilmore Girls where I was a Jess fan from way back and was never happier than when practical proper boring Rory cheated on nice floppy haired Dean with my favorite high school drop out.

Does this all mean that somewhere deep down I want to trade in my be-cowlicked video game playing nice boys for an illiterate hunk in a leather jacket and beer goggles? Maybe. But real world bad boys never seems to have any substance. They’re genuinely screwed up, not just using screwed up as a cover for sensitive. And since I rarely find myself attracted to high school boys in real life I’m left with 30 year old losers who are, lucky for me, much less tolerable.

You Call It Trash I Call It a Free Blog Post

A few months ago Kajal’s husband bought her the ultimate “you want it but you won’t buy it for yourself” gift – a subscription to US Weekly. This is the most selfless thing any man has ever done. Sadly, I do not have a guilt-free trashy magazine coming to my house once a week so I usually have to rely on the internet for my celebrate gossip – but not today. As I was running errands and trying desperately to think of something interesting to write on these pages for today’s requisite babble it hit me – the blog is the only excuse I need to buy a copy of US Weekly. Because of this little dalliance I can claim that I did not buy the magazine because I am a pathetic shallow media obsessed part of the problem but instead because US Weekly is research for my very serious writing career.

And so without further ado I present….

Awesome things I learned from the December 3^rd 2007 issue of US Weekly

1. Will Smith has apparently crossed over to Scientology. I cannot come up with a reason why anyone would convert to Scientology no matter how badly they may want to sleep with Tom Cruise. In this day and age becoming a Scientologist is like converting to crazy -- basically Will is all “I always thought sanity was the way to really make it in Hollywood but after talking with Tom I’ve realized that loony is highly under rated. Also my refrigerator houses magical butter that when smeared on my forehead allows me to see into the future!”
2. According to “Stars – They’re Just Like Us” celebrities also have to reapply lipgloss. And here I thought stars had some sort of auto reglossing machinery installed in their lips to save them from the shame of the reapply.
3. Page 36 has an awesome piece on celebrity mom’s dressing trashy -- US weekly pulled a bunch of tots off of the streets in NYC to ask them “Would you be mortified to see your mom in one of these get ups?” The replies were pretty uniform -- “They look gross, I’d make them wear a lot more clothes” – Hannah, 5. I feel like to be fair the magazine should have clarified that in this scenario the mother of each child would be a smoking MILF.
4. On page 42, “The Record” reports, “Boy George was charged with falsely imprisoning a male escort in London on November 13^th. He is due in court on November 22nd” I kind of need more information here -- Is Boy George a cop? Does he just have a fake jail in his house? And if so is it really called “falsely imprisoning” if you lock someone up unwillingly in your home? Isn’t that called kidnapping? Also – is hiring a male escort not illegal in London? Shouldn’t Boy George also be charged with some sort of prostitution related offense?
5. The people at PETA are obligated to support Pam Anderson because she is the only vegan in Hollywood (well I guess except for Moby but he doesn’t have huge tits) which I cannot imagine sits well with them. “US Weekly is on the phone and they want us to comment on Pam and Rick Solomon’s marriage I’m going to need a super sized order of tofurkey to get through this.”
6. Britney Spears has an uncle known as “Wild Willy” who “lives in his car [and] once lived in a treehouse.” Nice try Willy but the "Black Sheep" title is hard won in the Spears family.