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    Entries in Real Housewives of New York City (126)


    Finally, a political speech I can understand.

    I cannot really even preface this.  You just need to watch it.

    Peeno Greeeee-jio!   Doesn't it make you want to hone your own Ramoner impersonation?  God, yes.


    Thanks to Harvey Millstein, CID, the wind beneath my wings. 


    The RHONY bloodletting!

    Can you imagine the screaming and crying that must be going on at Jill's apartment right now?  Oh boy. Bethenny needs to be extra careful today, you know what I mean?

    I'm not surprised Jill being let go, but I am surprised (and slightly disappointed) about Kelly.  I really did enjoy watching her.  She had the most riveting blend of arrogance and stupidity.  Cheers to you, old girl.  I'll miss you.

    Read the whole story HERE.  Thoughts?


    Things that concern you

    1.  My brother played "Money Can't Buy You Class" at his wedding reception this weekend.  As you might expect, it cleared the dance floor but the 4 people remaining (one of whom was yours truly) were singing along exhuberantly and having seizures of ecstacy.

    Incidentally, if you ever get invited to a wedding in which the bride's younger sister has the nickname "The Animal,"  YOU SHOULD GO.

    2.  I tried to catch up with RHONY last night, but those old hags whine and bicker more than my children, which is really saying something.  I'm not up for it, to be quite honest, especially since I can't send them to their rooms and then force them to hug each other. 

    "Oh yeah?  Well, you're a poopy fart face who poops in a fart butt!"

    3.  Season 5 of Flipping Out premieres tonight.  Guess what?  This may be the Tylenol PM speaking, but I am having warm feelings for Gage, Jeff's boyfriend:


    It was the "good luck to you in the future" that did it.  Frank occasionally does that to me on the phone after we've had a disagreement.  He'll end the call with "have a nice life" and I'll say something like, "same to you, my friend."  And that's how people who love each other tell each other to fuck off. 

    Fair warning to Andy Cohen if he tries a nudey bathtub scene on this show-- 

    I will fly to New York and personally punch you in the nuts.  Think about it, Andy. Think about it.


    Warning: this post is a little Fatal Attraction-y

    Early on Saturday morning (2:31 am to be exact) I received the following email:

    I didn't see it until Saturday evening, at which point I yipped excitedly and ran around my chair a few times.  I haven't yet written about Cindy Barshop but she knew that I loved her.  She knew it! 

    Even before the Frette monogrammed bathrobe episode, I admired her for many reasons--her knee sock-boot thing, her dancing with Sonja's servant and her general handlement of Ramoner.  Oh, and her hair!  I can't wear bangs to save my life and there's Cindy Barshop, just walking around Manhattan with bangs that will make you want to slap your hairdresser.  HARD. 

    See?  The fact that Cindy Barshop was following me validated my entire twitter experience and to a certain point, my existence.

    In the short span of time between reading this email and then heading to twitter to follow her back (that I did not already follow her was mere oversight on my part), I had planned a weekend trip to New York City in which I would throw a toaster oven through Sonja's window, get a vatoo, and stay up until the wee hours of the morning dancing wildly to drumbeats, all with Cindy.  My new best friend.  

    But when I arrived on twitter, I discovered that she had already unfollowed me.

    What did I do, Cindy?  WHAT DID I DO?  I go over it and over it in my head and I can't figure it out. 

    Was this the equivalent of a Ramoner drunken text?  Was this a drunken follow?  When you woke up, did you feel ashamed?  I know I am a lame tweeter.  I KNOW THAT, CINDY.  But I am a real person with real feelings.  Feelings that used to be hopefulness and excitement but are now confusion and utter despair.

    You know when I said up there that I had not yet written about you?  That was a lie.  I wrote a poem about you after the Pecking Order episode.  It is still in draft form but I have to say, it's pretty damn good.  Too bad no one will ever see it...although I might be persuaded with a follow on twitter.*  It's up to you.


    In other news, I just saw that Vicki and Donn have not had sex for 2 years?!  Not even through all of that recommittment bullshit we had to sit through???  Are you surprised? 

     I have to say, I am.


    *And a monogrammed Frette bathrobe.


    Bless his heart!

    You don't have to watch or listen to this to form a perfectly accurate opinion of it.

    (thanks AJM)