Dowdy and Vulgar

Is it just me, or does fashion designer and “Project Runway” judge Michael Kors sound like (in pitch and lilt) Martin Short’s corpulent, celebrity-interviewing character Jiminy Glick? Think about it.

This Is Going To Be My Month, I Can Feel It

So, I’ve totally become addicted to Astrology Zone. I just checked my horoscope and omg, this it totally going to be my month! I don’t know why I’ve become so astrology-addicted of late. I used to always scan my horoscope in the past (usually Brezsny), and pick and choose what I’d accept and discard. But lately, I dunno, the AZ has been right on. Had I read it in August it would’ve saved a lot of headaches. September didn’t shape up as promised, but October sounds rad. I’m like a lottery addict, hoping, nay knowing, this is the combination that will net me the big score. Maybe in my advancing age I just need something, anything to believe in, a tether. When the chips are down…or something. Still!

The one thing that’s always consistent in my horoscopes, which leads me to believe they are true, is that I never will have money. And I don’t. THE STARS SPEAK THE TRUTH! Other than that, things are looking up!

So, check back with me in November and I’ll let you know how it pans out. But according to Susan Miller, I’m golden.

Existential Musings: A Call Button For Your Life

Sometimes, I wish there were a call button for life. Like on airplanes. Just reach up, push, and summon someone who’ll attend to all the nagging issues that crop up. A genie and a therapist and a psychic all rolled into one, a sage attendant, obligated to provide exemplary customer service in a soothing, professional manner while on this flight called life.

Bing.

Yes? What can I get you?

Um, an epiphany, please. A direction for my life. A lover. Some cash so my rent check doesn’t bounce.

Bing.

Can I borrow a five? A ten? Can you co-sign my loan?

Bing.

Can you break up with my lover for me?

Bing.

Should I take this job? Should I move? Should I go to grad school? Will you look at my resume?

Bing.

I’m having a panic attack. Reassure me I’m not getting old. That this outfit looks good on me. That I can lose those extra five, okay ten pounds. That age is just a number.

Bing.

What does she really say behind my back?

Bing.

Am I loved?

Bing.

Am I respected?

Bing.

Am I funny?

Bing.

Will I die old and alone?

Bing.

Why are we here?

Bing.

Bing.

Bing.

Last Night’s Outfit

So, everyone seems to love reality shows. And makeovers! My pitch: Last Night’s Outfit. Say you were out drinking until all hours, you pick up a last call booty call, end up at his/her place, but oh no, you have an important job interview the next day! Or a job-saving presentation! Or, gulp, brunch with your parents. There are your clothes, crumpled beside last night’s conquest’s bed, your underwear/socks/etc. nowhere in sight.  You need to look your best when you feel your worst.

Enter the LNO team, who raids the squalid den of sin at the butt crack of dawn to turn your whorey, evening garb from the night before into a presentable  daytime outfit. Shirt is wrinkled? Steam it in the shower. Run in your pantyhose? Nail polish! They could, like, make last minute alterations and steal clothes from your random hook-up’s closet to make a presentable outfit. Buy new underwear from the Duane Reade across the street. Quick, use the Preparation H in the medicine cabinet to reduce puffy eyes.

Granted, this scenario works best for single-n-slutty urban girls/guys/gays…but then what else is a network like Bravo for, right? Seriously, this will work. Call me!

I Like It, I Love It, I Want More Of It

Okay, I know the clip has been circulating the internets ad nauseum, but I can’t get enough of perpetual hobbit Elijah Wood showing us his “dancey dance” on Yo Gabba Gabba! I’m going to use “the Puppetmaster” as my new workout routine. For serious, that shit’ll make you sweat.