Ball buster

Wow, Faith Hill really can’t catch a break these days. First, Redbook Photoshops her to within an inch of her life and now random concertgoers are grabbing handfuls of her hubby’s junk. This weekend, Faith scolded an over-eager audience member who reached out and touched Tim McGraw’s bits and pieces at a Louisiana show on their Soul2Soul2 tour. Her message: hands off!

“Somebody needs to teach you some class, my friend. You don’t go grabbin’ somebody else’s -- somebody’s husband’s balls, you understand me? That’s very disrespectful.”

I especially enjoyed her emphatic and descriptive hand gesture when she said “balls.” Cause, you know, otherwise we might think she was talking about some other kind of balls. Also you have to admire her show-must-go-on spirit as she sway dances her way through the upbraiding of the cupping culprit. Rant-tastic!

Smokin’ sibling rivalry

OK, fine, so I don’t post about many book jackets here. But then not too many book jackets feature Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johansson. This new cover for “The Other Boleyn Girl” hints at the Tudor hotness awaiting us in the big screen adaptation of the historical novel about the rival Boleyn sisters. Scarlett will play Mary (a.k.a. The Mistress) and Natalie plays Anne (a.k.a. The Queen) in this tale of sisterly love for King Henry VIII (played by Eric Bana, a.k.a The Head Lopper). I don’t what kind of lighting/makeup/Photoshopping they had to do to give Natalie cleavage, but I approve. When I saw the first few on-set shots of Nat and ScarJo, I was worried they might not live up to their smoking’ potential. But, now, I feel confident that the hot is back and here to stay. Ok, fine, the headdresses are still a little silly.

My Weekend Crush

Of the many reasons to adore Emma Thompson, one of the most compelling is her sense of humor. That wit, razor sharp yet gloriously goofy, comes through in every role, even her most dramatic. It makes her a joy to watch and one of the few stars I genuinely think would be a blast to sit at a bar with and have a few pints. I imagine the laughing would be so hearty that the next day your face and stomach muscles would ache. Of course, her mirth in no way diminishes her tremendous talent. On screen, she has an exquisite strength. Her wordless breakdown in “Love Actually” ranks among the most heartbreaking ever captured on film. Her range dazzles -- from an Austen heroine to a Shakespearean muse, an Angel to a housewife, a nanny to a nutty professor. Plus, you have to admire her wiliness to look silly -- be it with warts, Coke-bottle glasses or stripper poles (you must see her pole dance -- you must). Also, has anyone else noticed her affinity for lesbian haircuts? A brilliant woman who can laugh at herself and has dykey hair? How could you not love her? Happy weekend, all.

NOTE: This photo is from the book “Women Before 10 a.m.” It’s a fantastic find if you like looking at pictures of beautiful women lying about in bed all tousled and sexy. Not that anyone here would like that sort of thing. At all.

Jorja on my mind

My favorite CSI might be DOA. If the rumors are true, it’s not looking too good for Jorja Fox’s Sara Sidle to crawl out from that car we last saw her under in the cliffhanger season finale. This week, TV Guide reported that the Las Vegas forensics show plans to add a new female character early next season who is “in her mid-twenties, fresh out of college and lacking the capacity for self-censorship.” A show that replaces a 30-something actress with a 20-something youngster? Gee, that’s a new one.Jorja is one of the biggest reasons I’ve tuned into “CSI” for seven seasons. Her appeal is multifaceted. She has the best skeptics scowl this side of Scully, that fantastic gap-toothed smile and an affinity for tank tops. Plus, the woman gives great eyebrow. And, well, she is “family” after all.And then, of course, there is the femslash. Sara/Catherine, Sara/Sofia. It’s like Yum & Yummier. While I’m not a really a regular reader, I do enjoy the videos. And for you, my lovely readers, I sorted through over an hour’s worth of S/C versus S/S clips to settle the great “which slash is hotter?“ debate. In the end, the writer in me went for the one with alliteration.

Sonic Boom

This ad rocks so hard it just had to be shared. (Major hat tip -- hell, the whole hat -- to Scribe on this one.) Lord, the hotness. The awesomeness. The kickassitude. I could insert some kind of naughty pun about wanting to “Booomboom Tap” something myself, but really my brain is on overload from the sporty girl goodness so all I’ll say is, sign me up coach. I’m ready to play.

Another little girl lost

This story is no longer fun. It’s just sad and ugly. Plus I really don’t see how it can end well. Remember when she was an adorable red-head with a face full of freckles and eyes that sparkled? What’s left today is flat and hollow, depressed and drawn-out. It is potential squandered and there is no joy in that. What is lost may still be found. But only if someone helps this girl.

Gimme that apple

This is, quite possibly, the most brilliant promotional poster ever. The screeners for the third season of Weeds (premiering Aug. 13) arrived this week and can I just say, wow. Whoever set up this photo spread deserves my eternal thanks and a raise. If it was me, I would just start carrying a sign that read: “It was my idea to shoot Mary-Louise Parker’s bum. You’re welcome.” Seriously, does anyone have directions to the Garden of Eden?

Monday bits and pieces

Since it’s Monday and we’ve had a spate of good lesbian news recently (you know -- a little of this, a little of that) I thought I’d post something to celebrate and kick the week off right. But what to post? I pondered. I paced. I procrastinated. And then it came to me like headlights (that’ll be funnier in a second) through the night sky. Breasts! Plus Lily Allen has been getting all nippy lately, so it was perfect. The London lass made me “Smile” last week by giving her “girls” some extra exposure. First while on “Friday Night Project” a few weeks ago she flashed her third nipple to an appreciative crowd. What can I say, the girl gives good nubbin. Then, photos of an au naturel Lily vacationing in Thailand surfaced (also funnier in a second). And since I know you’re all dirty little monkeys, here is the NSFW version. Hello, ladies. My, aren’t we pert today? Happy Monday, indeed.

My Weekend Crush

Today, all across the globe, children (and more than a few unashamed adults) are nestled comfortably in chairs, lying outstretched on couches and sitting slumped over kitchen tables racing through 784 pages as if their very lives depended on it. They are reading, they are excited about reading, they are no doubt going to beg their parents (well, not the adults -- I hope) to let them stay up to keep reading because of one woman: J. K. Rowling. The author of the Harry Potter series had done something that in this age of electrified entertainment I thought was damn near impossible, gotten kids to put down their Playstations and pick up a book. And to pick up said book, they’ll happily line up and wait for hours and hours. Wow, she really is magic. The story of how she dreamed up Harry is fable by now -- the dole, a train trip, a four hour delay -- and the legacy of what she created will live on in the imaginations of generations to come.

I’ll admit, I haven’t read the entire series. Still I think I’ll pick up “Deathly Hallows” so I can find out how it all ends for myself (if I can stay strong and stay away from all those damn spoilers). Because I too know the thrill of falling in love with literary characters and reading along as they grow up page by page, book by book. I had my own J.K. Rowling, but her name was L.M. Montgomery. Instead of Harry it was Anne. Instead of black magic it was red hair. And instead of Hogwarts it was Green Gables. But I felt the same delight that today’s crop of bibliophiles no doubt feel while cracking open the final book. Their joy of finding out “What happens?” will too soon become a bittersweet “Is it really over?” It will be with sadness that boys and girls (and discerning grownups) will let Harry, Hermione, Ron and the rest go at the end of “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.” But the love they feel for those characters, those books and (with any luck) reading will never end. And that’s all thanks to the talented Ms. Rowling. Like I said, magic. Happy weekend, all.

Welcome, Madam President

Is America ready for a lesbian in the White House? (That was not a Hillary Clinton joke, I swear.) According to The Hollywood Reporter, Cherry Jones has been cast as the new President of the United States for the upcoming season of “24.” The two-time Tony-winning Broadway powerhouse (who has also popped up on movies and TV) has been out since 1995 and in a relationship with “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” actress Sarah Paulson for the past few years. Now, at first glance this news is fantastic. A lesbian playing a woman president on a hit show? Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming! But then when you consider the behind-the-scenes back story to the 1440-minutes of televised counterterrorism things get a little hanky.

The new season will unfold in the midst of the 2008 presidential campaign and parallels are already being drawn to 24’s new Madam President and Sen. I-would-like-to-be-Madam-President Clinton. And then there is the little business of series co-created by Joel Surnow proudly declaring himself a “right-wing nut.” Oh dear. And he has hired an out lesbian to play a woman president? Oh dear. Still, I can’t imagine that Cherry -- who is both one smart and tough cookie -- would sign off on any role that turned her into the Bitcher-in-Chief or some other sad stereotype about powerful women. So I’ll but my skepticism in a lockbox for now and instead start dreaming about imaginary State Dinners at the White House where a radiant President Jones enters with a glowing First Lady Paulson on her arm. What? You’ve got to dream big, right?

Way to go, boys

Well, well, well. Isn’t this interesting? It seems Jodie Foster has been outed by -- wait for it, wait for it -- her sons! (Major hat tip, cappuccinogirlie at the AE forums!) The lovely and amazing Ms. Foster inched further out the closet door Wednesday at the opening of the Motion Picture and Television Fund’s new Saban Center For Health And Wellness. The facility’s therapy pool was donated by and named for Jodie. So, guess what you’ll find hanging on the wall of the Jodie Foster Aquatic Pavilion? Bronzed handprints of her two boys, Kit and Charles. And what does it say under those handprints? Kit Bernard Foster and Charles Bernard Foster. And what is Jodie’s longtime partner’s name? Cydney Bernard. Yes, that’s right, Kit and Charles have two mommies. And they’re not afraid to tell everyone. Fan-freaking-tastic! p.s. By the way, doesn’t Bernard Foster sound like a delicious dessert? Sorry, make that a delicious gay dessert.

Cause and Effect

Not to belabor a point, but I haven’t been able to let go of the Photoshop madness. Consider yesterday the cause and today the effect. Like Icarus flying too close to the sun, if we strive for the impossible we’re bound to fall. And fall hard. Courtney Love and Tara Reid, both empirically attractive women, apparently couldn’t help but see imperfection. So much so that they were willing to nip and tuck, suck and starve themselves into something almost unrecognizable. It’s real-life Photoshopping with grotesque results. Let Susan Powter’s ridiculously ubiquitous mantra be our guide. Ladies, please, “Stop the insanity!”

Losing Faith

Here is an interesting question: Has Photoshop destroyed our standards of beauty? The feisty ladies over at Jezebel caused quite a stir Monday after they paid $10,000 to an anonymous source so they could post the before-and-after Photoshop cover shots of country singer Faith Hill. [Click the above image to enlarge the horror, the horror.] It seems the editors of Redbook thought the already ridiculously pretty 39-year-old mother of three should be impossibly pretty instead. A little digital trickery here, a lot of digital wizardry there and voilà: A smoking hottie totally divorced from any and all reality. Ahhh, just how I like ’em. Let’s call this for what it is: Sheer. Utter. Madness. The beauty myth really is just that -- a myth. When even the most beautiful among us aren’t beautiful enough, there is something very wrong with our perception of beauty. Let us all throw up our hands, throw away our glossy magazines promising “Thinner Thighs in 30 Days!“ and throw down with all those who make a living by making us feel bad about ourselves because we don’t look like the women staring back at us from glossy covers. Because you know what, even those women don’t look like the women on those covers. And that, my friends, is seriously fucked up.

Bionically bad casting

I’ve been cautiously optimistic about the new “Bionic Woman” since the series was first announced. Super-strong women kicking ass and taking names? Yes, please. The promos look good, the fights looked awesome. OK, I still miss the stuttery “Na-na-na-na-na-na” sound, but you can’t have everything. Then, yesterday came news that scorned “Grey’s Anatomy” actor Isaiah Washington would join the cast for five episodes later in the season. Noooooooooo!

Why would you take a show that is bound to appeal to women (a healthy chunk of whom will certainly be gay) that celebrates powerful, independent women and then pull the rug out from under us by hiring Mr. F-Bomb Dropper? Not cool. I realize that Isaiah has apologized, sought help and been duly punished for his transgressions (like anyone else would in a workplace with a non-discrimination policy). But to hire him again a) so quickly and b) for this show in particular is troubling.

Also troubling, NBC co-chair Ben Silverman’s reasoning and response to the hiring (courtesy Malinda at AfterEllen):

“I started talking to (Isaiah) before he was available ... and when he told me he was available I was like, “You are? I don't understand, what do you mean?” I didn't quite understand ... but the bottom line is he’s a wonderful actor and we think inside the “Bionic Woman,“ the character that was created for him is really strong and one that he'll do a really good job at.”

Wow, uh, is it just me or does Mr. Silverman not really get it? My only hope is that Isaiah will play the villain because then I could see Michelle Ryan lay a serious smack down on his ass. In fact, now I think this might be an inspired bit of casting. Think of the carnage. Not to mention the catharsis.

p.s. Speaking of carnage, check out the latest promo. Damn.

Separated at Hairspray

I know I’m the wrong target demographic (i.e. neither a teenage girl or a gay male), but I just don’t get Zac Efron. I mean, I guess the 19-year-old bit of peach fuzz is cute in a Kewpie doll kind of way. And sure, he sings, he dances and he knows how to mystic tan. But I’m not entirely sure I understand why he has exploded all over the gossip blogs of late. Then, I realized that in our everything-old-is-new-again culture, perhaps Zac’s celebrity is just another case of lazy fame recycling. How else could you account for the fact that he looks like an unholy mash-up of Clay Aiken, Daniela Sea and Lindsay Lohan?

My Weekend Crush

One of the many brilliant things about Lili Taylor is that while she is an actor, she has never been a ham. Nor a showboat. Nor a fame chaser. Nor a glamour puss. In fact, she seems exactly the opposite. With her hushed voice and sly grin, Lili has always had an enigmatic elfin quality. She seems both organically shy yet unwaveringly direct. Throughout her eclectic career, the Sundance staple has blazed an independent trail that champions off-beat and even off-putting characters. That more than a couple of those characters have been gay (“Prêt-à-Porter,” “I Shot Andy Warhol,” “Gaudi Afternoon,“ and “Julie Johnson” to name a few) certainly doesn’t hurt either. Still the women she plays are, above all, complex. That demand for complexity could come from the fact that she owns some 800-1,000 books. Be still my heart.

But when I first heard that Lili had signed on to star in a Lifetime series, my heart sank. Oh, Lili, no! Not Television for Women! But the more I read about her show, “State of Mind,” the more I understood her decision. Plus at age 40, she probably saw that the interesting roles for women on film kept dwindling while the interesting roles for women on television kept getting stronger. The series has gotten good reviews which upgrade to glowing when talk of Lili’s portrayal of psychiatrist Dr. Ann Bellowes begins. Despite my Lifetime Movie of the Week prejudices, I’m going to try to catch the show when it premieres Sunday. (The impatient can catch it now. The premiere is streaming on Lifetimetv.com.) I think I owe Lili at least that much. After all, she gave the world 63 of the best breakup song pretty much ever. Sure, Joe lies when he cries. But Lili beguiles when she smiles. Happy weekend, all.

Lesbian Menace, Interrupted

God, is it possible that Bill O’Reilly is even more smug and self-righteous when pseudo-apologizing than when he is just spewing his normal outrageous bullshit? After the fear-mongering hysteria he and Rod Wheeler whipped up around the supposed “national epidemic” of lesbian gangs (To Recap: Lesbians packing pink pistols are coming to recruit and indoctrinate your daughters into homosexuality and a life of crime. Run, straight people, run!), Mr. O’Really Crazy sorta kinda issued an apology. He had a GLAAD spokesman on to discuss the “story” and then proceeded to essentially unapologize:

“All I’m trying to tell you is it’s a valid story…There are gay gangs, it’s a growing phenomena, we reported it and it should be reported.”

Must. Control. Anger. Though, he did concede that he at least feels safer when walking the mean streets now: “I am not in fear of the lesbians beating me up when I go out tonight.” Don’t get too cocky there, buddy. I can think of a few lesbians who would relish the thought of kicking your ass right about now.

That’s Mrs. Ronson to you

This is so dumb, I can’t believe I’m writing about it. Now I really feel like one of the blogging sheep. Watch me join the herd: “Bah-bah, Lindsay’s bah lesbian bah love bah letters bah-bah!” The latest on the formerly adorable red-head is that while in rehab she sent her rumored girlfriend out DJ Samantha Ronson love notes via MySpace. Given Lindsay’s clear lack of boundaries, she of course gave 75 of her closest “friends” access to her private page and one of those “friends” leaked the messages to the tabs. And, voila, one of these supposed notes to Samantha sufaces:

“Babe, if I don’t have you in my life then I should just go die…I want to marry you and have children with you...
Go to bed babe, I love you.
[signed] -Lindsay Ronson.”

You know what? I hope they really are a couple. I hope she is in love. And I hope Samantha loves her back. Hell, why not? In fact, good for them. Of course, considering her newfound affinity for Machiavelli, that relationship could be headed for some serious dyke drama. Though I guess carrying around a copy of “The Prince” is better than totting about a new Bible by Prada.

Democrats get their gay on

The Democratic presidential hopefully will go gay for the first-ever debate on gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender issues to be hosted and broadcast by LOGO August 9. Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama and John Edwards are already confirmed and other candidates may join. Well, that’s quite an interesting development. I’m overjoyed that gay issues are being taken seriously in the campaign. The event will certainly be a landmark moment for gay rights, possibly as big as when Bill Clinton becoming the first sitting president to address a gay organization 1997. I haven’t made up my mind yet on which candidate to support (basically I just want a Democrat to win, period), so perhaps this will help. Hopefully, Elizabeth Edwards’ progressive stance will rub off on her husband and the other candidates.

The candidates will field question from a panel including Human Rights Campaign president Joe Solmonese and Melissa Etheridge. Uh, Melissa, really? Clearly, I have nothing against Melissa Etheridge. She’s a great advocate and a powerful singer. Plus every gay gal has at least one of her CDs. (Seriously, even if you didn’t buy it and have no idea how it go there, it’s in your album collection. Go ahead, look. It’s in there. I think it comes free with the toaster oven.) But I think they might be stretching a little having an entertainer on a serious political panel. Do the organizers really need a famous face to get people to pay attention? Maybe I’m just hyper sensitive to any potential criticism or claims of sideshowism the insane right-wing will undoubtedly hurl our way. That said, I’m sure she’ll do a great job since she is well-versed and sincerely passionate. And, maybe she could serenade Hillary with that Hott4Hill song. Finally, a platform I can get behind: Putting a hot chick in the Oval Office.


NOTE: The debate will also be streamed live at LOGOonline.com. So all you cable-free folks can still “Go Gay in ’08.”

Such a pill

OK, so remember how I was just saying I wasn’t worried about Emma Watson ? Uhm, I take it back. Here she is at the “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” premiere in Hollywood. At first glance she looks adorable, right? Simple, age-appropriate, stylish and…wait…what the hell? This is what those Fug Girls would call “The Scroll Down.” It looks like Emma has gone and pasted the entire contents of her medicine cabinet on the waist of her dress. For the love of Hogwarts, why? Is this some sort of sly social commentary on our pill-popping culture and its hedonistic excesses? Or, instead, is this a not-so-subtle warning that the goody-goody actress isn’t nearly as sweet and innocent as she seems. Either way, you just known Lindsay Lohan is kicking herself and saying, “Damn, glue your stash to your dress! Why didn’t I think of that?”

Lick this

From one 17-year-old I’m not worried about in the least to another who is starting to furrow my brow. These shots of Hayden Panettiere kinda make me go, “Uh-oh.” Look, I know many people have a signature pose they bust out whenever a camera gets pointed in their general direction. After a couple cocktails, I’ve been known to unholster the finger guns. Oh, yeah. I’m awesome. But how, exactly, does one decide on licking as his/her signature pose? I’m sure the young fresh-faced “Heroes” star was just having fun and joking around while pretending to lap up a friend’s breasts, basket of candy, bronze statue’s bum and the Stanley Cup. But the fact that they’ve all surfaced (and then some) makes me think that perhaps Hayden should rethink her tongue’s photogenic qualities. That thing is a total camera hog.

Speaking of impressions, I saw Hayden’s big Fourth of July coming out party for her new hyphenated title (that being singer-actress). Can I just say, meh. I understand that the grass is always greener, but must every actress aspire to be a singer and every singer aspire to be an actress? You never saw Katharine Hepburn telling the press, “But what I really want to do is sing.” Call me cranky (and, many have) but I believe there is something to be said for mastering one craft before moving onto another. Listen, Hayden, we just got used to having to save you to save the world. Now, you want us to savor your music as well? Really, I think you have let the whole “invincible” thing go to your head.

My Weekend Crush

OK. Before you start calling me nasty names, storming my house with torches and pitchforks and alerting Chris Hansen, let me explain. Not all my crushes are necessarily lustful. I am not suggesting anything improper with Miss Watson. I’m not trying to over sexualize a 17-year-old girl and frown vigorously upon the rampant objectification of young women in our society. Instead, what intrigues me about Emma is the promise of a brilliant woman primed to emerge from the girl we’ve watched grow up these last six years. I have the same feeling about her I had back in 1994 when I first saw a then 13-year-old Natalie Portman in “The Professional.” Something along the lines of, “Wow, in about 10 years that girl is really going to be amazing.”

When I see an impressive young woman anywhere, I smile at the potential that awaits the passage of time. And I am happy that unlike so many of the false idols out there for young girls to worship, Emma seems to genuinely have her head screwed on straight and her priorities in order. She is serious about her studies. She hasn’t disparaged any other actresses’ private parts or stolen their skanky boyfriends. And she appears intent on carving out a career of substance, regardless of the path she picks after her Harry Potter days are over. It’s young women like Emma who give me hope for our popular culture which too often treasures trash over talent, salaciousness over smarts. So thank you, Emma. And call me in, say, 10 years. I’ll be near midlife crisis by then and ready for a 20-something hottie and a sports cars. Hey, it worked for Melissa Etheridge. Happy weekend, all.

Midnight in the Garden of Good & Gay

Mena Suvari is going gay again and this time her conquest will be a Bond Girl. Let me give you a second to process that information, form mental images and create fantasy scenarios. … OK, you good? Suvari has signed on to star in “The Garden of Eden,” an adaptation of the never-finished Ernest Hemingway novel that was published after his death in 1986. Set in the pre-Depression jazz era, the movie follows a pilot-turned-writer and his new wife (played by Suvari) as they honeymoon in Europe. From Variety:

“She becomes restless and tests her husband’s devotion in unusual ways. One is to bring a sultry Italian girl into their bedroom.”

Playing said “sultry Italian girl” will be sultry Italian actress Caterina Murino. You may remember her as the married beach beauty Bond, James Bond has a roll about with in “Casino Royale.” Suvari already memorably got her gay on as Claire’s not-quite girlfriend Edie on “Six Feet Under.” Man, who else wanted to shake Claire and say, “Dude, a hot girl is totally all over you. Get it together!”? While I liked Suvari before, I’d never really reveled in the hotness until her turn as Edie. Perhaps she just has better chemistry with her female co-stars. For the sake of Caterina and lascivious moviegoers like me everywhere, I certainly hope so.p.s. Those last few links are a little NSFW. Hell, it’s Friday. Go for it.

Pride & Lezjudice

Hello, how did I not know there was a lesbian storyline in “The Jane Austen Book Club?” (Clearly I haven’t been reading Best. Lesbian. Week. Ever. closely enough.) I checked out the trailer yesterday and had a “My God, did I just see two women in the tub?!” moment where I thought I had on my gay goggles and was imagining a Sapphic scenario. But, no, later in the trailer, bam!, unmistakable girl-girl goodness. Don’t you just love it when lesbians pop up in the most unexpected places? (Innuendo intended, it’s just so much more fun that way.)The film (opening Sept. 21) is an adaptation of the best-selling book by the same name about five women and a man who gather to discuss Jane Austen’s fiction and realize their lives are like a 21st century version of her novels. The cast looks great: Maria Bello (love her!), Emily Blunt (her, too!), Amy Brenneman (ditto, et al), Kathy Baker and Lynn Redgrave. Lost’s Maggie Grace (don’t know her, but I’m sure I’ll find a way to love her) plays Allegra, the lesbian daughter of Brenneman’s character. Heck, I don’t even care that she is named after an allergy medication. I just care that for about four seconds in the trailer she plays doctor with her girlfriend. You saw the stethoscope, right? I know I did.The trailer looks pretty good. It mixes lightness and laughs with lust and loneliness without even a smidge of the “we are mysterious creatures aren’t we”-pretentiousness wafting through the trailer of that other film out now with a killer ensemble cast (Yes, “Evening,” this means you). Plus, it’s a whole movie about a bunch of women who read books. Hell, what’s not to love?

Keith Olbermann for President

On this, the celebration of our nation’s independence, I bring you a true American. Speaking truth to power, is there anything more patriotic? Happy Fourth of July, all.

Party like a blog star

Happy Independence Day, ladies (and assorted refined gentlemen)! While you’re enjoying your hot dogs and fireworks, let me tell you about another weenie roast where you just might see sparks fly. Miss McDimple (that’s Curly if you’re nasty) is hosting a GLBT Blogger Party and everyone is invited. Well, everyone who lives within an easy commute to Brooklyn (or has the bank to fly out). Sadly, I have neither. But you will be able to meet the aforementioned Ms. Ham & Cheese on Wry and my not-so-secret blog crush Ms. Post No Bills. I am so jealous. Poor a little out for your homegirl Ms. Snarker, ladies. And take tons of drunken pictures. I demand photographic evidence.

The who, what, when, where and how to get there:

• GLBT Blogger Weenie Roast
• Sunday, July 15, 4 PM-lord only knows
• Roof Deck at Cattyshack, 249 4th Ave., Brooklyn, NY
• Directions @ cattyshackbklyn.com

Now that’s cooking with cleavage

The New York Times recently ran a piece called “Frump-Free Cooking” about today’s kitchen goddesses and their propensity to display, shall we say, their organic attributes on air. The paper seemed surprised by the “sort of tight, sort of low-cut, definitely sexy” clothing favored now by female celebrity chefs. Gee, women on TV showing off their bodies? Unheard of.

The creative director at Barneys New York called the look “updated wench chic” and then proceeded to give one of the more hilarious quotes I’ve ever read in the Gray Lady:

“Everyone has to have a little bit of hootchy. But the trick is not to have it go too far, because if it becomes too overly sexual, issues of hygiene come into play.”

As an admitted connoisseur of these shows, I have of course noticed the tight sweaters and plunging necklines. Great food, pretty ladies and some cleavage? Now that is what I call quality television. Still, even I have my limits. Just the other day I was watching Giada De Laurentiis in one of her signature scoop-me tops and thought, “Damn, if I wore that to the office I’d get fired…or a raise.” Just search “Giada” and “Cleavage” on YouTube and get, well, an eyeful.

The NYT gave credit where credit is due and attributed the trend of apron-free attire to Nigella Lawson and her 100 form-fitting cashmere twin sets. No one does food porn better than Nigella. Watch “Nigella Bites” and try to decided which you feel more: hungry or horny. As she told the NYT, “I’m pretty bosomy.” Really? I hadn’t noticed. Not at all. Just like I hadn’t noticed how she likes to lick food off of spoons, plates, fingers. Ahem.

p.s. If you’re a fan of Giada’s, or better yet if you are not, you must read this. Satan’s Slushies: Coming to a freezer near you.

Kate is my Trésor

Since I can’t, in good conscience, let Mr. O’Really Crazy stay up at the top of the page all day, I offer this delicious palate cleanser. Here are the first few shots of Kate Winslet’s new ads for her Trésor perfume campaign. There, now don’t you feel a whole lot better. You can practically smell the pretty.

Lesbian Side Story

Just when you thought he couldn’t possibly get any nuttier, Bill O’Reilly goes and tells the world to beware of pink pistol-packing lesbian gang. (Hat tip, reader from Queens!) I know I should be outraged. And, really, I am. But, at this point, all I can really do is marvel at the sheer audacity of his utter bullshit. It’s like watching a sketch comedy act. I kept waiting for the punch line. But instead came a bunch of tired fear mongering about “lawless gay people” recruiting kids “as young as 10 years old” into gangs and “indoctrinating them into homosexuality” so they can “carry pink pistols” to commit crimes and “cause a lot of hurt to a lot of people.” Lord, someone give these guys an Emmy. Because that is one masterful piece of acting. Seriously, you try reading the whole thing and keeping a straight face.

Though, perhaps we really should be thanking O’Reilly and his not-at-all insane “crime analyst” Rod Wheeler. I mean, maybe this is the wakeup call we need to stop the bitter gang war between the merciless East Coast Big HerTTs (a.k.a. the Herbal Tea Totalers. Gang sign: Blowing on an imaginary cup of Lemon Zinger) and the vicious West Coast Lez CaLs (a.k.a. the Lesbian Cat Lovers. Gang Color: Anything covered in fur). So thank you, Bill. We can now stop the senseless lesbian-on-lesbian crime and unite in a common cause: Laughing our asses off at you.


UPDATE: When you’re all done laughing (I know, that could take a while), check out this thoughtful, thorough response to the Oh-Really Factor by the Southern Poverty Law Center, courtesy David Holthouse. Yeah, now I’m mad again.