Idol Worship

And you thought American Idol was the only game in town! Come January, LOTS of idols are coming your way in addition to all your resolutions.

On Jan 4th, just in time to kick off your New Year, VH1 will debut Confessions of a Teen Idol. The concept? Scott Baio is the host of a weekly series that throws a bunch of washed up heartthrobs in a house together as they try and resurrect their careers. Scott Baio tags along and plays guardian angel. Or something.

Cue the drama:

VH1 TV Shows | Music Videos | Celebrity Photos | News & Gossip

Now, I have good news and bad news for you.

First the good: I'm kinda psyched to see Jamie Walters try and make a comeback. Maybe it's the Boston gal in me, but darn it all this one-time Ray Pruit needs another claim to fame besides pushing Donna down the stairs.

Also, I'm glad VH1 took my advice to try and resurrect Christopher Atkins. Good move. Brooke's out of a job, too, with Lipstick Jungle gone, so maybe they'll nab a Lifetime movie together. Cool.

Now the bad: Of all the washed up stars in the universe, did the casting peeps really have to double dip into Baywatch?

WHAT is going on with Billy Hufsey's/the Fame guy's head and how come his hair doesn't fit? And while I'm at it, is it just me or is Scott Baio's hair looking super scary? And to keep the hair trifecta going, Eric Nies, the former Real World/the Grind guy needs a 12 step program away from his flat iron.

Seriously.

Anyway, everybody loves a comeback, though to be fair I'm not sure it's a comeback if I've never heard of you.

I'm talkin' to you, meth-lovin-cast-for-your-drama-Baywatch guy.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

I am totally getting into the holiday spirit! True, I am deeply, deeply troubled by AFLAC's decision to mar my childhood memories of Rudolph by using the jolly characters to sell insurance, but I guess so be it.

Nevertheless, as we passed the Day After Thanksgiving milestone, I became anxious to hear my holiday fave, "Do They Know It's Christmas?"

For some reason, though this came out in 1984, long before the days the internet made pretty much anything a permanent fixture, I remember every detail of that video as if I was still in the 7th grade.



I remember every little swoop to the beat that Boy George's shoulders made as he sang. I remember seeing that chick holding up the Squirt can and wondering what funny little private joke was behind it. And I remember the wafts of smoke circling around Jody Watley.

But when I watch it now, it also makes me want to give out some special awards to the folks in the video. It's never too late for prizes...

The Cherish Your Youth Award Poor, poor George Michael. Seems like only yesterday the pretty you was waking me up before you went-went.














The "Bet You Never Could've Imagined What a Tabloid Spectacle Your Life Would Become" Award I guess this could also go to Georgie, but let's cut him a break and give it to another George....Boy George, that is.

The "I Really Should Start Doing Yoga" Award Inspired by Sting, who might be the real Benjamin Button

The "I'll Have What He's Having" Award Inspired by Bono, who managed to look cool in a mullet then, and is even cooler NOW.

But, hey, it's the holidays. I should have a more giving spirit, so....

God bless us, everyone. Even the no-longer-famous ones.

Gossip Girl

I don't like to gossip here on this site, but I admit, I do my fair share of guilty pleasure TMZ-ing. And, once a week, I get to curl up with favorite gossip rag, US Weekly.

I rely on US for hard hitting journalism like their "Stars with Bangs!" expose or ridiculous diets that could kill me. US Weekly Magazine is there to help keep the Jen vs. Angelina feud alive and to keep me up to date on Lindsay's latest leggings.

I don't even mind that they put those Hills chicks on the cover sometimes, even if I still refuse to learn who they are.

But I think it's lame-ity lame how US is now putting politicians all over their magazine. US is my escape. I've enjoyed their careful cocktail of fluffy stories about A-listers and Z-listers, and everyone in between.

So please, no more politicians unless they are like, dating Madonna.

I know, I know, technically I talked a little politics myself election week so I don't mean to be a hypocrite, but c'mon! Enough already.

Don't get me wrong - I care about how President Obama is going to clean up the country, but I would prefer to read about it elsewhere. And I definitely don't care to read the EXCLUSIVE (!) from his barber that he doesn't care about going gray.

As for me, no gray area here, US Magazine. If your subject has anything to do with voting, stick to American Idol.

No Longer In Fashion

Even with all its gloss, NBC has pulled the plug on Lipstick Jungle.

Some thoughts as NBC says auf wiedersehen to the Jungle so they can focus on reviving dead guys on ER from like 5 seasons ago instead of investing in decent new shows:

I'm going to miss living vicariously through these chicks with the fake sounding names (Victory Ford? Really?) who conquered NYC with their power jobs and still seemed to have time for 3 martini lunches like every day. Wouldn't it be cool to have their jobs?

I'm going to miss obsessing over Andrew McCarthy's face. I still can't figure out what's different about it from his St. Elmo's days and was looking forward to finally figuring it out.

But mostly, I'm going to miss seeing Brooke Shields. I've always been rooting for Brooke, even if she did chuck her feud with Tommy Cruise to attend his alien wedding.

I know Brooke will be ok though. This girl has staying power.

But, please, oh please, do NOT let her and her Calvins become Suddenly...Susan.

15 minutes

Everybody wants their 15 minutes of fame.

Or so it seems.

As I scour every nook and cranny of the employment universe, I have no choice but to include Craig'sList on my daily go-to list of "job" sites. Yes, Craig'sList, that of the get rich quick schemes and a damn good place to sell that dresser you've been hangin' onto since you were like 16.

I've discovered something that maybe you already know: there is a show about everything. EVERYTHING. And if there isn't a show about it, someone, somewhere is trying to make one. A random sample of ads calling out to me this week alone:

LOVE YOUR MUTT BUT WISH YOU KNEW ITS BREED? NAT’L TV SHOW! - (NYC)

DO YOU HATE YOUR LIPS? - (NYC)

EVER HAD YOUR BIKE STOLEN? (Downtown)

Well, all this does is reinforce the fact that I am not going to find a job on Craigs List, nor am I going to get to be on TV. I mean, I don't have a dog, but if I did, I'm not sure I would want to put it on the Animal Planet version of "Roots". I actually like my lips, so, that's out, too. No one ever swiped my bike, but I'm pretty sure if I went on tv to talk about it, the extent of it would go something like this: "That sucked". The End. Let's be honest, no one's watching that.

I'm really not trying to hate on CraigsList. Just cause I don't wanna go on any of these (really boring sounding) shows doesn't mean there aren't REAL jobs to be found.

Here's a personal fave :
Wildlife Experts Needed For New Cable Series (National)

Northern California television production company is actively seeking wildlife experts with backgrounds in Evolutionary Biology, Ecology, and Zoology to be featured in a new cable network show. We are searching for individuals with personality, passion, and above all, a proven track record in researching and investigating genetic mutations.

Now, there's just one problem. I might be going out on a limb here, but I'm guessing that any wildlife experts, particularly ones with a proven track record in genetic mutations, aren't trolling CraigsList for jobs.

I, however, AM. So, if you see any postings offering up millions for chick bloggers who like to talk about tv...

Good Vibrations

I'm declaring the 90's officially back.

First, the 90210 reprise (no matter how crappy it is). Then, rumblings of the return of Melrose Place (please, PLEASE bring back Andrew Shue).

Today, NBC was trying to get some traction by hinting that maybe, just maybe, George might make a quick return to ER's final season after all.

Yeah, right.

This got me thinking, if only, if only, they could just resurrect Seinfeld, it would be the perfect storm of 90's bliss.

I know we've made, um, quantum leaps since the end of Seinfeld (TEN years ago!), but I swear not a day goes by when I don't have some kind of incident that makes me feel like I'm in an actual episode.

Like today.

It was one of those non-spoken high noon type stand-offs in the laundry room. You know the kind I mean. I'm waiting for a machine. The weird lady folding her giant granny panties knows I'm waiting for a machine, yet no one says anything.

And so I wait. She knows I'm waiting. I know she knows I know she knows I'm waiting.

And still I wait.

Sigh.

I miss when Seinfeld would relish these moments in all their high waisted-jean glory. Since I know it ain't comin' back, I guess I'll have to just be content with other 90's-esque satisfaction, like a Democrat in the White House.

And in the meantime, I guess I'll just return to My So-Called Life.

Our Way, Yes Our Way

Sometimes, you have to just let things go. And so I shouldn't want to mess with the memory of last night's historically significant election and muck it up with my own issues.

But I can't help it.

I know I shouldn't admit how troubled I am with Michelle Obama's decision to wear a frock that evoked some kind of checkerboard/tie dye/superhero mashup on one of the most important nights of her life.

And I really shouldn't admit that every time NBC cut to Ann Curry in that graphically weird virtual reality colosseum, I couldn't focus on the results because I kept expecting Princess Leah to appear in a laser beam of light pleading "Help me Obi-wan Kenobi, you're my only hope."

But mostly, I really shouldn't admit that although I thought Barack's speech was pretty stellar, it woulda been SO MUCH COOLER if he just recited the Laverne and Shirley theme song. Is it just ME, or wouldn't that have kinda worked, too?

Give us any chance, we'll take it.
Give us any rule, we'll break it.
We're gonna make our dreams come true.
Doin' it our way.

Nothin's gonna turn us back now,
Straight ahead and on the track now.
We're gonna make our dreams come true,
Doin' it our way.

There is nothing we won't try,
Never heard the word impossible.
This time there's no stopping us.
We're gonna do it.

On your mark, get set, and go now,
Got a dream and we just know now,
We're gonna make our dream come true.
And we'll do it our way, yes our way.
Make all our dreams come true,
And do it our way, yes our way,
Make all our dreams come true
For me and you.

Yes, he could've! Ok, fine. I won't quit my day job.

Damnit, I don't have a day job. Hurry President Obama, fix the economy!!!!

Stella's Got Her Groove Back

I am feeling like Carrie Bradshaw more than usual.

And by usual, I mean in that way that my non-NYC acquaintances say "You are just like Carrie Bradshaw!" because they think I run around in Manolo's (I wish), drink cosmos (more of an Amstel Light gal) and party with celebrities (the closest I've come to that is when the REAL Aidan a.k.a. John Corbett screamed at me on a city street because he was convinced I was following him like a crazy stalker, even though I was actually just trying to cross the street during the NYC Marathon...along with about 3 thousand other people. Note to John Corbett: though your post-Sex and the City gig as the VO guy on Applebee's commercials IS impressive, it's not quite enough to lure me in.)

Anyhoo, the other night one of my readers approached me at a party, and he was worried about my blog. He was concerned that now that I've been mentioning a boyfriend on the blog, it might change the tone and piss people off. Listen, I know Carrie chucked her dating column (don't I write a TV one, BTW?) when she ran off to Paris to be with that Russian dude on Sex and the City, but let's not forget once she ended up with Mr. Big, she wrote a bunch of successful books.

Seems to me like it was a win-win for everybody.

Back in the real world, I may not be Carrie, but I am here to alleviate your fears. Single or not, nothing's going to change. In fact, I am going to make you a few promises, which I pledge to keep (yeah, yeah, me and today's candidates....did you vote yet????).

I promise to continue to call out shows I think are jumping the shark (This means YOU How I Met Your Mother. Enough with the 'One to Grow On'-type wrap-uppy VO's at the end of every ep, more Barney. Thanks.)

I promise to temper flaunting my occasional achievements (I ran 6 miles on the treadmill today!) with totally embarrassing pop-culture references (had Britney's 'Gimme More' on auto repeat through about 90% of that run).

I promise to continue to randomly dredge up 80's crap for no reason and then torture you with the theme song that you won't be able to get out of your head for the rest of the day, like this one from Family Ties.

In short, I promise to be...Just Me. After all, what would we do, baby, without us?

Money Talks

I don't generally talk about commercials on this here blog, but every once in awhile, I've gotta weigh in on ads when they get to me.

There is an ad running right now for HSBC bank that I find so completely vexing, I can't for the life of me figure out how it's gonna make me wanna go put my 2 dollars (and let's be honest, I mean literally two dollars) in their bank.





First, the ad if you haven't seen it (I tried like hell to find the :30 version, but this longer one was all I could dig up and frankly it just makes me all the more confused):



Now, I may not be a marketing strategist or anything, but as far as I'm concerned, any ads trying to lure me to do some banking really should feature something, anything, to distract me from the rampant fear and anxiety associated with today's banking insitutions - so I'm thinking puppies, sunshine, unicorns, whatever it takes to make me feel warm and fuzzy about the bank. That's what needs to be in bank commercials.

Not so much at HSBC.

So, just what IS the point of this commercial?

Is it that tree killers and tree huggers can live in harmony as long as they have lots of money invested at HSBC?

Is it that there are close by HSBC ATM's should you ever need to be bailed out of jail following a violent protest?

Is it maybe...don't invest your money in forests?

I'm thinking it's not any of that.

Who knows what that sad lady is singing about in the commercial. And maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm a little grouchy about finances these days. It certainly didn't help that I started my day with Suze Orman on The Today Show this morning screaming at me through the television to STOP USING CREDIT CARDS!!!!!

I know, Suze, I know.

Show me the funny!

Man oh man, have I gotta get a job. The other day, I spent a full 20 minutes engaged in a discussion of the subtle differences between two shades of nail polish: do I choose "Berry Hard" or "Lacy, not Racy"? Hmmm. Somewhere in the world is the person whose job it is to come up with these nail polish names. Maybe a new career for me?

As usual, I digress.

So, with not much to do but job hunt and try to avoid news about the economy, I have made it my mission to find more funny, because frankly, watching Suze Orman tell me how totally screwed I am is Halloween-level scary.

And so I (and I'm guessing YOU) really need a pick me up.

First, I snuck a peek at the season premiere of 30 Rock. Yes, I couldn't wait. Kind of like how I used to always find the Christmas presents my mother hid every year. Seriously, mom, no other hiding locations besides the bathroom closet?



Anyway, 30 Rock is back! I was worried Tina Fey wouldn't be able to shake the Sarah Palin persona, but no need to doubt the fabulous Fey. So, if you are in need of a little FUN yourself, click here and sneak a peek, too, or you can watch it live on NBC, Thursday at 9:30pm (how retro of you).

And speaking of retro...it's rare that I suddenly get into a show so late in the game, but I have recently started watching and loving The New Adventures of Old Christine. I thought it was just going to be more recycled Elaine bits (see: Frasier), but this show is so much more. Sure, it's a bit of Julia being, well, Julia, but the writing is sharp, biting, and pushing boundaries. Check it out, Wednesdays on CBS at 8pm.

Now, I was going to wind up this little ditty by telling you I was going to give "The Ex List" another chance. I am still in search of more fun, and several people recently told me they LOVE it. Alas, happy-seekers, CBS has pulled the plug.

Well, kids, look on the bright side. Sweeps is just around the corner. Let the celebrity publicity stunts begin!!!

The Audacity of Hope

I am ready for a change.

The fall television season has been one big yawner. Sure, I'm tv-side for every debate and every Tina Fey-anything, but other than that, let's be honest: the state of the current tv season is kinda like the economy. It sucks!

Now, there are a few bright spots. Mad Men is still awesome, even if I have no idea what is going on since Don Draper/Dick Whitman wandered off to LA in what feels like one big acid trip. But that's over next week (don't kill the messenger) and I'll have just another big void to fill.

Brenda's off 90210. Brothers and Sisters has turned into a bunch of whiners and worse...Rob Lowe isn't even looking that hot anymore. And, last week's episode of How I Met Your Mother felt a little too 'very special episode' ish to me.

I finally watched last week's ER (you know, it's the LAST year! George Clooney isn't on anymore!) and I was so bored and saddened because they sent Abby Lockhart off with a whimper. Now, in defense of ER, while I was watching said episode, I was juggling facebooking, designing business cards AND eating the most fattening pasta ever. And feeling guilty for eating the most fattening pasta ever. But, from what I saw, it was a real snooze-fest, even if that lady from Facts of Life did play a patient (again).

But I digress. This is supposed to be about HOPE, and this is more depressing than an episode of In Treatment.

On the upside, 30 Rock is coming back in two weeks. We can let Tina Fey get back to doin' her thang as Liz Lemon and let Sarah Palin go back to spying on Russia.

And come January, besides hopefully some other, uh, noteworthy changes, we can all get back to watching LOST and seeing what they do next to shake up the space time continuum.

Yes we can.

Not Feeling the Love

I was marginally excited for the new CBS show, "The Ex List", even though that girl in it bugs me for some reason. It's not that I have anything against Elizabeth Reaser. She did a fine job as the fake-amnesia gal with a new plastic surgery face on Grey's, but maybe it's because that was supposed to be her fake face on Grey's that I can't accept it as her actual face now.

And if you don't watch Grey's Anatomy, now you don't know what the hell I'm talking about. Sorry.

Anyhoo, I am usually a sucker for any kind of schmaltzy crap, and with the underlying premise being that this chick is looking for love, I figured it's gotta be kinda good? Right? Unfortunately, it's kinda not.

The biggest problem with this show is that it's an hour. Which is about 45 minutes longer than it should be. An hour doesn't really work for this sorta sitcommy format. Oh, and then there's the other thing.

It's not funny.

Which brings me to my other lament. We need more FUNNY in the world! Sure, there's a few gems - 30 Rock, hurry up and come back! And thank you Barney Stinson for doing the unthinkable and erasing the memory of Doogie Howser! - But, I miss when the channels were flush with laffers that made us all happy. I wanna sit in Central Perk and drink coffee. I wanna go to a place where everybody knows my name. I want Charles in Charge of meeeeeeee.........

I'm just saying, can't there be more funny? The world is a scary place right now, and we need to laugh. What we DON'T need is any more investigations of crimes. We don't need to see any more operations. Basically, we don't need any more angsty anything.

If I want angst, I'll just watch more debates. Come to think of it, I take that back. Maybe that's where all the laughs are.

Dirty Tricks

Is Lucy Liu the new Heather Locklear?

(No, no you meanie, this isn't a gossipy post about Amanda Woodward Heather Locklear's recent run in with the law. I am very pro-Heather and I totally hope she and Frisco Jones get married and live happily ever after.)

I digress.

However...remember in the old days, every time a show needed a little help, they'd bring in Heather Locklear? Remember? Melrose, Spin City? Scrubs? Heather would just waltz in in her mini skirt and black-light-white teeth and make everything better?


I'm thinking Lucy Liu is the new answer.

Tonight, Dirty Sexy Money begins season 2, and Lucy is their new secret weapon, if the billboards I keep seeing around town are to believed, anyway. Now, LL didn't do much to enhance Cashmere Mafia last year (who would've thunk that they'd get bitch slapped by Lipstick Jungle by the way), but she's certainly lobbying hard for the Locklear title. Consider the evidence: she did lots for Ally McBeal, she did a little ditty on Ugly Betty.

I mean, they even brought this Angel onto JOEY as a Hail Mary, ya know?

And so even though I wasn't really all that jazzed up about Dirty Sexy Money last year, I'm gonna check it out. Considering I keep watching that 90210 crap, it's the least I can do.

And NO, Shannen Doherty is DEFINITELY not eligible for the super shiny Locklear guest star title.

Hangin' Tough

Few things in this world give me more pleasure than cheese...both literally and figuratively. And so I was downright gleeful as I sat on my couch last night, nachos in hand (I SO wish I was kidding) to watch Behind the Music: New Kids on the Block.

I was never actually much of a New Kid fan to be honest. But, given the fact that I love a little retro cheese and all things Boston-ish, I ate it up.

I kind of forgot about Behind the Music since it's been semi-retired after covering every band short of the one at your cousin's bar mitzvah. This special didn't really break any new ground (yeah, yeah, we KNOW Maurice Starr tried to take credit, you were just poor kids from Dorchester...blah blah blah) but boy did I love all its big-haired goodness anyway.

The best part for me was the revelation (or reminder) that NKOTB started out opening for TIFFANY, but then the following year, the mall-touring goddess ended up opening for THEM. Poor Tiffany. She will forever be trapped in our consciousness at malls dressed in head to toe denim.

And that includes the scrunchie.

This trip down Aqua-Net lane reminded me of something else that I crazily and inexplicably just confessed to my boyfriend: somewhere in the world exists a videotape of me, opening up a gift from my brother on Christmas morning circa 1986 or 1987. Let me set the scene: time stamp is around 8am, my makeup is in full splendor, including my predilection toward feathering my eyeliner half way up the side of my head. The hair and nails go without saying, as does the fake Gucci sweatshirt. And just what was this gift that made me squeal with delight? A Tiffany 45 combined with a VHS of Bon Jovi videos.

Thank GOD I grew up before You Tube.

In sickness and in health

Tonight, ER, that long, long, lonnnnnnnng running series about that hospital set in Chicago sets its sights on going out in style. It's the start of the 15th and final (no, really!) season of the series that launched a thousand Caesar haircuts, Clooney-style.

That seemingly teflon-coated hospital has seen more guest stars check in than the Love Boat, and as this season begins, Angela Bassett muscles her way in as a doc with a - wait for it - troubled past.

I, for one, hope all these docs and their troubled pasts go out with some class. Now, yes I know we alllllllll want Georgie-poo to come back to say goodbye, but let's be honest....if he didn't show up for Mark Greene's funeral, it ain't gonna happen. But, who knows? Even Anthony Edwards is coming back for one episode, despite his brain tumor death.

God bless the inventor of flashbacks and dream sequences.

Anyhoo, that cast sure has changed since 1994. Some arrivals have been good (hellooooooo John Stamos), some have been bad (sorry Scott Grimes/Dr. Archie Morris, you will always be annoying to me) and some have just plain vanished (where ARE you Rick Rossovitch, aka Tag, the dude Carol Hathaway ditched for Doug?).

I will admit, even I strayed for a few seasons in the middle there, but it's been pretty damn good in the last year or two. So, if your DVR can stand it, that's THREE hours of doctor-palooza tonight (lest you forget the 2 hour season premiere of Grey's).

It could be good for what ails ya.

Reality Bites

I hate to kick people when they're down, but what the hell WAS that train wreck of an Emmy's the other night??!

You know, there was a time when I would like, have to add extra rounds of cardio to get my body ready for the marathon ritual of watching hours upon hours of red carpet leading up to the pièce de résistance, the Emmy's! But this year?

Not so much.

So maybe I was psychic when I DVR'd this horrible piece of dreck and went out instead of staying home to watch. And thank god when I got home I could speed through the horrible wanna-be banter to get to the good speeches.

Oh wait, there WERE no good speeches.

And I mean, I know EVERYBODY is talking about how bad the reality-hosts-talking-about-nothing bit was...but what about that Josh Groban singing-montage of tv theme songs??! I mean, the THIS-HAS-TO-BE-A-JOKE-SINGING-MONTAGE-BUT-WAIT-NO-IT'S-NOT-WAIT-IS-IT?-JOSH-GROBAN-TV-THEME-SONG-MONTAGE?


That might've been the most cringe-worthy awards moment I've seen since Rob Lowe danced with Snow White at the Oscars. And guess what? I've got that video, too, if you don't mind burning out your corneas by the time he comes on at 4:12 in this ONLY copy of that infamous video I could find...



On the bright side, at least my friends at Mad Men and 30 Rock got lots of awards. See, I'm smart enough to say nice things. I would hate for someone to be mad at me for slamming the Emmy's since it IS a small word, after all...

Welcome back to the Jungle!

So I got a sneak peak at the season 2 premiere of Lipstick Jungle today (coming to NBC on Sept 24th at 10p). I am happy to report, these gals have come a long way, baby!

Now, I know you have a lot of big decisions to make in the next few weeks. So many choices - how will you decide what to add to your DVR list?

I'm here to help you make an informed decision, so here's the skinny (since no fat is allowed in these glamour gals' lives) on Lipstick Jungle:

The Good Kim Raver plays the best "laughter through tears" scenes you'll see in awhile (Yes I am quoting Dolly Parton from Steel Magnolias here. I've been waiting for an opportunity to do that since it came out in 1989.). I'm not going to ruin it for you, but you're going to want to see what happens next. Let's just hope it involves more of that guy she had an affair with last season, even if the writers did unwisely decide to name him Kirby. I'm sorry, I will make an exception for the Emilio Estevez character in St. Elmo's Fire, but in general, only cute puppies should be named Kirby. Period.

The Bad While I am actually LOVING the casting of Rosie Perez as Victory Ford's (Lindsay Price) publicist, why does she have to have one of those fake TV jobs? She is Victory's publicist, but she is also talking to real estate agents to try and find new space for Victory's store?? Um, I don't think so. Jobs on TV are never accurate. Remember when Billy Campbell on Melrose Place was like an account guy but also somehow wrote copy? Or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, I hate that!

The Could Be Ugly I'm not sure yet about Mary Tyler Moore as Brooke Shield's mom. I wanna love her, because...well, she's Mary-Freaking-Tyler-Moore...but she might fall into the cliché category. Too soon to tell.

Overall, it was good though. But please, bring back Lorraine Bracco! She was the best bitch EVER last season. That would guarantee this show on the must-see-tv list for sure.

9021-oh-no!

With the Emmy's around the corner (my Superbowl), I feel inspired. I haven't given out my own awards in awhile. So, today I present you with an all-90210 edition:

*Spoilers*

Worst use of a green screen, or, most unrealistic drive since I played Pole Position at the mall arcade in 1986 award: Dixon and Silver's spin through Beverly Hills in Jessica's 'car' looked so fake I was surprised the Wicked Witch of the West didn't come riding by on her bike in the background.

Most changes to a hairstyle in a single hour, or, hire a continuity person, stat! award: Naomi's hair, which seemingly went from short to long over a night...and also went from super hot rollered to straight-ish in the time it took for her to walk from her locker to outdoors.




Best reason not to smoke, ever, award: Jessica Walter's crinkled up, scary looking lips that were at least a distraction from her over the top bad acting as the grandmother/new drama teacher.


Biggest guest star appearance to not live up to the hype award: Shannen Doherty, whose only function seems to be to utter random reminders of the departed cast members ("I can still hear the chants of Donna Martin graduates...").












Biggest "We're still holding out hope that we can convince Luke Perry to swing by on his motorcycle and liven up this place" award: That goes to the producers and writers, when it was revealed last night that the father of Kelly's baby is Dylan. At least, I think that's what they revealed?!

Chuck Cunningham award: Where is that girl Adrianna from the pilot? The theater girl with the drug problem?

At least Nat's still kickin' around.

Misery Loves Company

*Spoilers*

There is trouble in River City. Or at least, there's trouble at Sterling Cooper. Could there have been a MORE depressing episode than Sunday's telecast of Mad Men?!

I mean that as the highest compliment of course.

Betty Draper is losing it...BIG TIME. I mean, get January Jones an Emmy, stat! Not since those Wisteria Lane gals burst onto the scene has a desperate housewife been so fun to watch.

But Betty doesn't have the market cornered on malaise. Poor buxom bombshell Joan got a taste of playing with the big boys when she got her script reading job, then saw it plucked away just as quickly. Now, as she is realizing she must settle down to a ho-hum life as a domestic goddess, she is not happy. While I'm handing out Emmy's (if only I really had that power), let's give one to Christina Hendricks as Joan, too. Her stare alone scares the crap out of me. That's some good acting.

Continuing down the list of people's lives going down the tubes, Don Draper is totally screwed between his haunted past and now this looney wife of his.

And speaking of screwed...something tells me Peggy is headed towards a very Thorn Birds like relationship with that priest.

By the way, if for some crazy reason you are still not watching Mad Men...well, let's just say I pray for you.

In Fashion

Maybe it's the steady diet of fashion I've had all week (no, not that kind of fashion diet...no ciggies or puking here). But, I have been filming at NY Fashion Week and my stilettos have been knee deep in fashionistas.

(Can stilettos be knee deep? Maybe they can be knee high. Or maybe all this fashion weeking has given me a clear case of ADD. I digress...)

Anyhoo, despite my round the clock dealings with all things fashion, I found time to watch the new Bravo show "The Rachel Zoe Project". I expected to hate it. I expected to hate her.

But you know what? You can't always judge a gal by her super-skinny, über tanned cover.

Sure, the narrative was as expected. The quest for the perfect dress. The glimpses of celebs for the TMZ-lovin' set. And sorry assistant gal Taylor, you have clearly been assigned the role of the villain.

Surprisingly, though, despite Zoe's rep in the tabloids, she's pretty likable, and her passion for what she does comes across as genuine as the leather on her Birkin bag.

And so I'm adding Rachel Zoe to my list of what to wear watch. Besides, once Fashion Week ends, I'm gonna be craving a little sartorial splendor more than those models will be craving carbs.

Just Say Cheese!

Wow, the claws are out on 90210! And I'm not even talking about all the scandal that went down on last night's premiere...

It's the critics! All of the reviews I've seen thus far seem to me like they were kind of written in advance by some pissy haters that were miffed that the C-Dubya didn't release advance copies of the show. What did you expect, people? Shakespeare?

First of all, take Variety's review: "The second hour gets a big boost from the appearance of Shannen Doherty returning as Brenda," writes Laura Fries. Really? Yes, we all tuned in to see the return of infamous Brenda, but seriously? She was in it for like 2 seconds. A big boost? Not so much.

I do agree that Jessica Walter (the grandmother) was doing some serious "scenery chewing". And for me, Silver's cartoony blog thing was annoying as hell...and not just cuz I'm, well, a blogger, but because it was about as real-feeling as that early-incarnation-of-email moment in Pretty in Pink when Andrew McCarthy video-emails Molly Ringwald in the library.

But I digress.

I just don't understand all the hating! It was fun...in that guilty pleasure sorta way that only 90210 can bring you anyway. So I say, just give in. It's like when I opened my boyfriend's refrigerator recently and found Cheese Whiz lurking in the back. Sure, I pretended to be horrified but let's be honest...I really just wanted to nuke that sucker and spread it on some crackers.

Entertainment Weekly's Ken Tucker didn't like when the Ethan character declared "I'm breaking up with us". C'mon, Ken! Any 90210 connoisseur knows that was just a modern day update of Kelly's famous "I choose me" line from the 90210 of yesteryear.

Hey, it might be cheesy, but it's OH so good.

Simply the Best

A friend of mine at work today asked me what shows I would consider my favorites of all time. Oh the pressure! I hate dealing in superlatives because it really stresses me out. Does picking my own personal bests of the best DEFINE me? Is this like that episode of Friends where we find out Rachel lies and says her favorite movie is Dangerous Liaisons but it's really Weekend at Bernie's?

I mean, there's my comfort food...Sex and the City and well, Friends. I'm still watching these night after night in reruns. No matter that the DVD's are in reach. We've talked about this.

Then there's those tv landscape altering shows...the Lost's and The Soprano's.

But what about those yummy guilty pleasures? Would you judge me if I said that I fondly remember rushing home to watch Party of Five to see Bailey's Intervention? And that my roommate and I sat speechless and teary eyed all through the episode sipping white zinfandel? Yes, white zinfandel. Go ahead and continue to judge me. I was young and foolish...but not so young and foolish as to not appreciate the genius (ok, hotness) of pre-Lost Matthew Fox in his earlier role as Charlie.

Once upon a time I was big on Ally McBeal, The Practice and Happy Days. Not really in that order, but you get the gist. And I totally wanted to go off to private school once I starting watching The Facts of Life.

Calm down. I'm not equating The Facts of Life with, say, The Sopranos. But, in its era, it is one of those shows that I rushed home for.

Which brings me to something else. We don't rush home anymore! Not for TV. In this post-DVR world, it's all about spoiler alerts and On Demand. I kind of miss worrying if I taped over the finale of Felicity with 90210.

Ah, Felicity. If only she hadn't cut her hair, I might be DVR-ing THAT favorite as we speak. Well, DVR-ing it AND drinking maybe a nice Cabernet?

Let's Do the Time Warp Again

90210 is within reach. And while I'm sure I'll get sucked into the high school hi-jinks, I'm watching it for the same reasons you are...to see Jennie Garth and Shannen Doherty go home again.

And, I'm pretty pysched to see Rob Estes (the one and only Kyle McBride from Melrose) popping up on that show, too.

But something is bothering me.

Shows set in high school are all the rage now (I'm talkin' to you, Gossip Girl), but a lot of well known stars from MY youth are showing up on these teeny bopper shows in the grown up role, and it's making me realize something.

I'm kinda old.

Ish.

I mean, this weekend I got introduced to One Tree Hill (shout out to that certain cute Boston boy who turned me on to One Tree Hill, by the way). Now let's keep in mind that I am still watching season 1 circa 2003, but I tune in to this thing and the bad guy father is none other than 90210's brief bad boy John Sears (Paul Johansson)?! Remember, John Sears was the dude that screwed over Kelly? And now he's playing the dad?

And I'm sorry, I cannot handle Moira Kelly as the MOM. She'll always be the sassy Cutting Edge skater to me.

Well, I guess this is what happens. We may all have to get older, but we can at least relive our lives once lived by lockers over and over again courtesy of the TV. So, it turns out you CAN go home again...or at least stop by in a cameo role.

By the way, how come I never even SAW Varsity Blues and yet all I can hear in my head as I write this is James Van Der Beek in the trailer yelling "I don't want yer life!!!"

Brand Identity

I can face it. I'm not really the MTV generation anymore. I'm more of a VH1 gal. But, I do try and keep up with what the kids are up to these days.

So when I saw promos for the MTV Video Music Awards featuring Russell Brand and Britney Spears, naturally I thought...who the hell is Russell Brand??!

Now, lest I end up with a Ben Stein-style influx of hate mail again, I wanted to make sure I hadn't missed the wave of possible celebrity that Russell must've surely ridden in on to warrant hosting these awards. I decided to do the only responsible thing a journalist would do.

I googled him.

I still don't know what Russell Brand did to get this hosting gig, but I did learn a few things, like:

Russell Brand was voted "Shagger of the Year" 2 years in a row in The Sun.

MTV REALLY wants to lure you to their awards to see what Brit Brit will do next.

Also, perhaps most curiously, MTV still has music videos.

• MTV
• Music Videos
• MTV Shows
• Entertainment News

Where the Boys Are

I'm kind of a sucker for cute boys. So, when an ESPECIALLY cute one in Boston suggested I check out Date My Ex: Jo & Slade, how could I resist?

Oh dear. Cute boys are always getting me into trouble.

Well, I did check it out. I would've liked to check out the pilot (get it together Bravo - make it easier to watch episodes online!) but instead I watched a random episode.

Now, if you don't know the premise, from what I can tell from my non-scientific random sampling, Jo dates 3 guys on each episode, and then picks one to stay on to the following week. The big twist is that her ex Slade Smiley lurks and gives her advice on who to keep around and also tells the guys what's what.

Slade Smiley. Possibly the fakest porn/cartoon name I've ever heard. Ok, actually, the only porn/cartoon name I've ever heard.

Oh and there's some weird Spice-Girl-Castoff-looking host or friend or something that also chimes in from time to time. Chris Harrison, she is not. Anyhoo, I don't really know what happens with these dudes once she collects them all, but I can tell you what I would do.

Run!

This is the biggest bunch of tools I've seen in one place since I worked on a home makeover show.

Ick.

It's mildly amusing. It's certainly a different spin on the Bachelor premise (how many can they possibly do, by the way?!). But, I don't like any of these generic pretty boy soulless guys. Not one bit. And, this 'reality' show is so fake and contrived that I'm surprised these guys aren't reading their lines off a teleprompter.

I feel bad for Jo. It must suck having the only dating options be someone they have to pay to hang out with you reality cartoon characters and the ex with the cartoon porn name.

Get with it, Jo! There are way cuter boys east of LA. Take it from me.

Hot and Bothered

I hate the summer. TV mostly sucks, and I'm forced to try out these bad reality shows, even though I know what the outcome is going to be: wasted time.

But, I watched Pamela Lee's Kid Rock's Solomon's Anderson's new reality show, "Pam: Girl on the Loose" anyway.

Anderson's been doing the talk show circuit, proudly telling anyone who'll listen that at least SHE is not going to prostitute her kids out for this show...she'll just stick to prostituting herself.

Ok, so she's more noble than Lohan or Denise Richards, the other reality bottom feeders who would probably throw puppies in traffic if it would give them the spotlight and some more cash. Pammy's show is harmless. It's not going to burn out your retinas like those other shows did, but there's just not really much to say.

Then again, I don't think Pam's audience has ever been that interested in hearing her speak. Ahem.

The other problem with this show, besides being devoid of any real plot, is the fact that it's so over the top with its cutesy for cutesy sake graphics-gone-wild appearance that it's like when my 13 year old nephew got a new Mac and went nuts trying to make a home movie and used EVERY SINGLE EFFECT AT ONCE.

OK, fine, I don't actually have a 13 year old nephew, but if I did, I imagine that's what it would be like.

It's ok, Pammy's world is inflated and make believe, too.

Truly Madly Deeply

Amy Winehouse and I are in trouble.

We both have all the telltale signs: the hollowed out darkness that lurks under the eyes from no sleep, no time to eat, and yeah, I totally just want one more hit. I just can't get enough, man.

But my crack ain't actually snortable or smokeable. It's Mad Men.

I mean, I know I wrote the other day that I was digging this show (even though I'm a little late to the party), but man oh man, did I just have no idea how addictive this thing is.

I blame On Demand. I'm in a foggy haze, frantically trying to catch up to season 2. The clock tolls 1:08am and I know I have to get up for work, but who can care about work at a time like this?

Besides, it's not like I can drink and smoke at my desk like at Sterling Cooper.

Why even go in?

Way Beyond Bueller

Who knew Ben Stein was so huge?

Not me. So when I wrote of my surprise at Ben's place in the political world, I got a flurry of emails that were kind of like, mad at me. Don't you worry, my little chickadees, I wasn't trying to slam your beloved Ben-ster. I think he is a delightful and amusing fella. I was just merely expressing my OWN surprise that he was in the pundit circle.

My OWN surprise...cuz sometimes, it IS just me.

Anyway, much like Baby's father in Dirty Dancing after he realizes he shouldn't have tried to put her in a corner, when I'm wrong, I say I'm wrong, so I will cop to ignorance of his awesomely politically qualified past. I should've checked it out. This former speech writer for Nixon and Ford is like a wicked smartee pants with major, major political cred.

But seriously, guys, the dude did guest star on Charles in Charge MORE THAN ONCE.

Anyway, sorry if y'all were offended. Jeesh! Now I know why politics and religion are off limits on a date.

By the way, did I tell you the joke about the priest, the senator, and the network exec?

Time Management

Did I miss something?

Other than my new obsession, Mad Men, I admit I've been uncharacteristically distracted. Besides my steady diet of Friends and Sex and the City re-runs, the dog days of summer have taken their toll on my tv viewing and my DVR isn't even in the danger zone of running out of room.

It's shocking.

So when I turned on Larry King on Tuesday night, I realized that frankly, I need to pay attention. Joy Behar was hosting a roundtable-ish political discussion with some pundits, and mixed in was...FRAN DRESCHER. Fran Drescher of the nasally, whiny-voiced Nanny fame?

I don't understand.

What TV Land reunion did they dig her up from? If you want to spice up the commentary with a little Hollywood, why not Beatty or Baldwin? Hell, I'd even settle for Ben Affleck.

Rounding out the 'panel' was Ben Stein. BEN STEIN?!! Did I go to sleep for 50 years like that Mel Gibson character does in that movie where he wakes up 50 years later from the cryogenic machine and hooks up with Jamie Lee Curtis and realizes he has missed everything, including the girl he went to sleep for who he thought was dead but as it turns out, isn't?

It kind of feels like that...'cause last I knew Ben Stein had 2 claims to fame. One involves winning his money on an aptly named game show. The other is simply this: Bueller...Bueller...Bueller.

I didn't know he was now the go-to guy for politics.

Just out of curiosity, is Matthew Broderick president?

Mad About You

So I finally decided to see what all the hype is about and checked out AMC's Mad Men.

Where the hell have I been?! It's...oh so good.

Now, on the bygone era front, I admit I didn't really give Swingtown a chance, and maybe I should've. But in that first episode, every Tab, every mustache, every bell-bottomed move seemed contrived to me.

For some reason, on Mad Men, it's the opposite. I want to deep inhale every unfiltered cigarette they smoke, come along on every non-seatbelted car ride they take, and, quite frankly, I'm a little jealous of the multi-martini lunches.

I'm comforted by the clacking of the typewriters. I want to run out and buy a bullet bra. I wanna go to one of those restaurants with the teeny weeny lamps on the tables and drink a gimlet. I'll call the restaurant and make the reservation on my rotary phone.

And now the best part. I'm only on episode 2 of the 13 on demand before season 2 starts next Sunday.

Finally, something to do this summer that won't make me hot and bothered...well except when I think about Mad Men star Jon Hamm.