I Ain't One To Gossip But ...

Color me not surprised, but Kim Kardastrophe has actually admitted she would, well. Let’s have her say it:

“I’ll try anything. If you told me that I literally had to eat poop every single day and I would look younger, I might. I just might.”

I feel like she’s been eating sh*t ever since her porn days.

Kim  Poop

Sarah Jessica Parker’s next move might be trying to get Kim Cattrall to pay rent for the space she takes up in SJP’s head.

Seriously, SJP, who pretends to take the high road in this ALLEGED feud with Cattrall is at it again, playing both the victim and the bitch as we near the Five-Year Anniversary of the time that Cattrall said she wasn’t going to ever do another Sex and the City movie. Now, for her part, Kim has maintained her position; she did the role on TV, she did the role in two movies, one so-so and the other so so awful, and when asked to do a third film she said, simply, ‘No.’

But SJP played the victim, acting heartbroken that her “friend” would do such a horrible thing as turn down a job, and then turned into a bitch, saying that Cattrall was never ever going to be asked to the TV And Just Like That … Nobody Watched which was fine with Kim because, again, she announced five years ago that she wasn’t playing Samantha again.

For the love of the goddess, SJP, get it through your head: Kim is done with you and the show. You, however, speak on and on about Cattrall and the show, as you did when the reboot began airing and you had your cutesy scenes about Samantha and when you spoke to the press saying The Actress—you couldn’t even bring yourself to say her name—was never asked, and was never going to be asked, to join a TV show she had already said she did not want, and was not going to, do.

Of course now you’re talking again, because Cattrall has revealed the reason she turned down SATC3 was because her part in that film would have been mostly about a thirteen year old choking his chicken to a picture of Samantha and she called it tasteless … and so SJP took herself to The Hollywood Reporter’s Awards Chatter podcast and said it was “very hard” to talk about the situation with Kim before proceeding to talk about it:

“There were just a lot of public conversations about how she felt about the show. I’ve spent a lot of years working really hard to always be decent to everybody on the set, to take care of people, to be responsible to and for people, both my employers and the people that I feel I’m responsible for as a producer of the show. And there just isn’t anyone else who’s ever talked about me this way.”

Victim.

Then SJP got into the fight that started all of this back in 2017. She claims everything was fine with her and her employees until the negotiations started on Sex and the City 3. She claims Kim wanted a raise and when she didn’t get one, she quit. And that’s a bad thing? Samantha has been part of that show, and the first two films, and thought maybe a nice raise would be a way of saying Thanks, but the producers—and let’s be clear, Sarah Jessica parker is a producer—told her to pound sand.

Bitch.

SJP is butt hurt because And Just Like That …. Nobody Watched is a minor hit, and most of the chatter around the show is, “Where’s Kim?’

And she’s living rent-free inside SJP’s head and laughing like mad about it.

SJP  Kim

Former Glee star Matthew Morrison found a new gig this year on So You Think You Can Dance until it turned out to be So We Think You’re Fired.

The story first broke that Morrison was “let go” from the show for not following “protocols” and it sounded like  COVID thing, especially after he released this statement:

"Having the opportunity to be a judge on So You Think You Can Dance was an incredible honor for me. Therefore, it is my deepest regret to inform you that I will be leaving the show. After filming the audition rounds for the show and completing the selection of the 12 finalists, I did not follow competition production protocols, preventing me from being able to judge the competition fairly. I cannot apologize enough to all involved and I will be watching alongside you all on what I know will be one of the best seasons yet."

Sounds simple, but then word came that Morrison was fired "after he had an inappropriate relationship with a female contestant." Now, the show wants to stress that the two “didn't have sex, but he reached out to her through flirty direct messages on social media [and] she felt uncomfortable with his line of comments and went to producers, who then got Fox involved. He was fired after they did their own investigation."

To make it even more gross, Morrison has been married to Renee Puente for eight years and have two children together. Renee seems to have responded Morrison’s firing by posting to Instagram:

“Nurture yourself by first SLOWING DOWN, taking a DEEP BREATH, and asking yourself a few questions to GAIN CLARITY on your situation. How do I feel in my body? What is consuming my mind?” 

SLOW DOWN and stop messaging young girls while you’re a married man, Matthew.

Take a DEEP BREATH and think about the private messages, which I can only guess won’t be private for long.

And GAIN CLARITY on which divorce attorney to call.

LOGO   Morrison

You know, Mo’Nique loves to beef. She beefed with Lee Daniels, Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry about Precious for thirteen years until they all kissed and made up this year, and so now she needs a new beef: enter DL Hughley.

Mo’Nique and D.L. were scheduled to appear together at Detroit’s Fox Theater for The Comedy Explosion but Mo’ ALLEGES that DL refused to share the stage with her if she was the headliner and so Mo’Nique spent most of her set raging about it onstage, and not at all being funny … which she was hired to do:

“Y’all don’t understand. I was getting ready to walk the fuck up out of here, but I said, ‘I can’t let the people down.’ I’m 30-plus years in this motherfucking business and I don’t open for no goddamn body. The contract said, ‘the headliner.’”

Mo’Nique says DL “crossed the line” and that he has criticized her in the past on one of his tours, and so she stewed and beefed and waited years for the one time she and DL would be on the same bill, and she went off.

And DL was not having it and, as people do, took his claims to social media:

“All you have to do is check the order of names on the ticket stub from last night and you’ll see who’s confused. Against my better judgment, over the objections of my team and 4 other occasions where I said NO, I decided to take a chance and work with Monique. Oprah was the problem, Tyler Perry was the problem, Charlamagne was the problem, Steve Harvey was the problem, Lee Daniels was the problem, Netflix was the problem… Now it’s MY turn. At some point it can’t be everyone else, IT’S YOU!! Lesson learned. I didn’t have anything personal against Monique… People paid a lot of money to laugh, not hear about your contract. Apparently, the role you played in PRECIOUS turned out to be an autobiography. I wonder who’s next… “

Ouch; and then he added in ALL CAPS:

“ANSWER ME THIS…. WHEN HAVE YOU EVER SEEN THE “HEADLINER” AT THE BOTTOM AND MENTIONED LAST? THE CONFUSION IS WITH WHOEVER GASSED HER UP ON PREMIUM OCTANE. NOW BACK TO THIS STOGIE AND BOURBON. Y’ALL AIN’T F*N MY SUNDAY UP.”

Mo’Nique clapped back … in ALL CAPS too no less … because, well, she’s Mo’Nique:

“THE FACT THAT YOU POINT THE PEOPLE TO THE TICKET STUBS FOR THE ORDER OF THE NAMES VERSUS TO YOUR CONTRACT IMPLIES THAT YOU DON’T HAVE A CONTRACT THAT SHOWS YOU ARE THE HEADLINER, LIKE I DO. EITHER SHOW YOUR CONTRACT OR BE QUIET. STOP MESSING WITH PEOPLE WHO HAVE NEVER MESSED WITH YOU AND WHO ONCED CONSIDERED YOU A COMRADE IN COMEDY. BUT I THANK YOU DL BECAUSE YOUR YOU’RE THE REASON WHY I FIGHT FOR MY PEOPLE LIKE I DO. ANYTIME YOU OPENED FOR THE KINGS OF COMEDY, AND I WAS THE HEADLINER FOR THE QUEENS OF COMEDY AND YOU THINK YOU SHOULD CLOSE THE SHOW OVER ME IS A PRIME EXAMPLE OF THE BIAS THAT BLACK WOMEN HAVE TO DEAL WITH IN THIS BUSINESS. I WON’T EVEN DISCUSS AWARDS.
I LOVE US 4REAL.”

I’m giving this feud about 13 years to run its course, with Mo’Nique taking every opportunity to play the victim, until the day she makes up with DL, and then finds another target.

Mo and DL

Since we started with famewhore and asshat Kim Kardastrophe, let’s end with her.

Kimmy has started a new skin care line … and, as of now, it does not include eating excrement, but she has named it Skkn by Kim,  which is eerily similar to Lori Harvey’s skincare line, Skn by LH.

As the Twitterverse said:

“Sis just added a K and called it a day.”

“Anyone with a fully developed brain and a pair of working eyeballs can clearly see that S-K-N and S-K-K-N is the same.”

“You could be so creative with your kids’ names. Now all of a sudden, you lost creativity? … At this point, it’s pretty much giving copy and paste.”

It is kind of ridiculous, but am I the only who, when I see Lori Harvey’s business name I see Skin by LH, but when I see the Kardastrophe knockoff I see Sikken by Kim?

Just sayin’, maybe it’s the feces.

SKN by LH   SKKN by Kim

I Ain't One To Gossip But .....

I don’t know how she does it, but Lindsay Lohan has crack-hustled her way out of the Betty Ford Center.

Now, she isn’t on the streets and endangering all of us with her wack driving, because she just switched up the BFC for Cliffside rehab in Malibu.

Yay! Beach parties and booze, and, possibly, more of her beloved Adderall.

What is irksome is that the rehab switcheroo is AOK with the courts. Seriously. Um, judge? Why not make her stick it out in one place and maybe actually get some real help rather than listening to her midnight sobs about no ADD meds and then letting her leave?

But they all say Betty Ford is better suited for a 30-day program, which Lohan has completed—then why put her there is the first place?—and she’d be better off completing the remainder of her 90-day sentence at a new place.

I thought rehab was where you went to get well, not where you went for a vacation until you got bored and then checked out and went somewhere else. This is part of her punishment, no? This is a criminal sentence, no?

Apparently not for Lindsay.

So, Matthew Morrison. The is-he-or-isn’t-he gay star of Glee. I remember when there were photos of him ALLEGEDLY kissing another man but he says there weren’t him and so …

That’s the most exciting thing about Matthew Morrison. See, he’s boring. Coma inducing boring. And he proves it himself by the things he says.

Matthew Morrison, on the last time he was nervous:

"I'm back in New York for a while, and I guess I'm nervous about the subway. I just want to make sure I still remember how to get around. I got lost yesterday, and it was nerve-racking trying to be the great New Yorker that I once was." 

Wow. That shaved some much needed seconds off my life.

Matthew Morrison, on how he over-eats:

"Last night I broke down and got a Reese's and ate both cups. I try not to have too much sugar, but every now and then you just have to get nasty. That and Almond Joy are my go-tos." 

Dear God! Both cups!!?! I think someone needs to see a shrink about all that binge eating.

Matthew Morrison, on getting angry at IKEA:

"Two days ago at IKEA in Brooklyn. I have a small apartment, and we are redoing it, and it's hard to find smaller furniture. We were shopping for a couch, and I was very short with people because no one was helping us. I didn't go off; I just got quiet. I never lose my cool."

So, he didn’t get angry, he got quiet. Now, if he would just stay that way.

Matthew Morris …. Yawn.

Poor Justine Bieber, he cannot have it all :::foot stomp pout::::.

While he might be ready to fly in space—let’s hope that comes true—and getting tattooed, and getting hit with another paternity suit, but one thing Little Miss JB cannot do?

Get into Lure nightclub in Hollywood.

It seems Justine tried to sneak into Lure during their Toxic Luau Beach Day party but was turned away at the door because he wasn’t old enough. Or was it tall enough? No, that’s at Disney where he can’t ride space Mountain because he doesn’t stand taller than Mickey’s outstretched arm.

A source—and you know it’s Selena Gomez—says, “Someone from Justin’s team had come earlier in the day and told the club that he would be showing up. The club told him they wouldn’t let him in because he’s not 21. Bieber came anyways and tried to sneak in through a back door.”

I will refrain from Justin Bieber getting in the back door; or even getting it in the back door.

See, just as his bodyguard was carrying him inside, rapper Game gave him a shout out from the stage and security saw him and then carried Justine and the bodyguard out the way they came.

I think the kid is still outside the door throwing a tantrum.

So, back to Lindsay, who continues to enthrall, even when she’s transferring rehabs.

Why, you might wonder, did she leave the Betty Ford Center? And what did they think of the cracktress?

Well, she was a raging diva bitch who refused to do anything that was asked of her, so the staff at the BFC couldn’t wait to see her leave; in fact, I bet it was the staff who suggested she get the eff outta there.

A source—Brooke Mueller, Charlie Sheen’s ex, from a room down the hall where she’s attempting her 27th rehab stay—says, “Lindsay skipped group therapy, she refused to go for several days [because ] she thought people were giving out information on her. That was her excuse.”

But skipping group therapy was just the start.

“She was making life hell for those around her every day. Lindsay was demanding her Adderall, which she was not given. But she kept demanding it and was highly disruptive.”

In fact, before a deal was struck to let Lindsay finish her 90 days in Malibu, rumor had it that Betty Ford was planning on kicking her skank ass to the curb.

It’s sad when your own doctors tell you they’ve had enough.

I expect Lindsay to skate through her remaining sixty days and then get arrested for drunk driving when she leaves Cliffside in August.

Now, onto to another diva bitch: Kanye West.

It seems Miss Kanye is fed up with being followed around by photographers, but, um, didn’t he think that would be an issue when he knocked up a woman who’s made a life of whoring herself out for publicity? Think much, Kanye? No, say nothing, I’m’a let you finish in a minute.

It seems Kanye—AKA Yeezus, or something—was walking around New York with his boys … read between the lines … when a photographer asked, from a distance because that bitch’ll swing on ya, “What’s good, Kanye?”

Kanye’s response: “DON’T ASK ME QUESTIONS, MAN!” 

So the photographer said goodbye, but then made a fatal error; he wished Kanye a happy birthday.

Kanye’s response: “ SHUT UP! DON’T EVER TALK!”

Funny, that’s what I say to Kanye.

Ah, Paltrow. Still talking.

She was everywhere for a few months, being named the Most Beautiful and the Most Hated in the same week, and getting all kinds of press for Iron Man and for being such a Kanye-West-Justine-Bieber diva bitch at the Met Gala.

Then she shut up and all was right with the world.

And now, I guess because she’s as over herself as the rest of the world, she’s been warning friends and business associates not to participate in an upcoming Vanity Fair article about her.

Rumor has it that Paltrow was set to collaborate on a cover story, but declined when she realized no one likes her. But, then VF said they would do the story without her, which you know means it’s not gonna be nice, but it is gonna be good, and Paltrow began issuing directives to her minions friends.

Friends? I kid. Friend.

So, this is odd, but when you consider it’s Jessica Simpson, it kinda makes sense.

Christopher Hurst and Tracy Gregory of Louisiana have filed a lawsuit against Jessica Simpson, OK! Magazine and Getty Images for using a picture of their child without asking for their permission.

See? That’s Christopher and Tracy’s baby right there on the cover of OK! Magazine looking absolutely terrified, because he’s in fear she’s gonna smother him with Ranch dressing and eat him.

It all started when Jessica did a meet-and-greet at a Dillard’s in Louisiana in 2011, Christopher took his teenage daughter to meet her, and also brought along his infant son, also named Christopher. While in line, two people told Christopher that he should get a private picture of Jessica and his baby son, so when he reached the front of the line, Hurst put his son on the table in front of Jessica.

A photographer from Getty immediately started clicking away, and never asked for permission from Hurst, and then six months later Christopher saw the picture of Jessica Simpson and his baby on a cover of OK! Magazine.

Christopher and Tracy Hurst’s lawsuit claims the picture is made to look like that of Simpson and her baby, and that Simpson was paid $800,000 by a different celebrity magazine for the first pictures of her baby and Christopher and Tracy got bupkis, nada, zip, zero.

Now, Christopher and Tracy want $75,000 in damages because they believe Simpson was in on the scheme and “knew that she would appear on front of the magazine with [baby] Christopher in her arms and that she had financial motive through the publicity she received.”

To be fair, Simpson is not smart enough to come up with this plan on her own, but she had to have known—we hope—that the baby in the picture wasn’t her actual baby. Right?

More on Miss Kanye.

Remember last week when he made a two-second appearance at Baby Mama Kim Kash Kow Kardashian’s baby shower/TV special?

Yeah, he wasn’t happy about having to be there, but apparently, in a Kimye relationship what’s good for the Rapping Goose is good for the Gold-digger Gander.

Kanye recently celebrated his sweet 36th birthday at Miss Lily’s in NYC with Beyoncé, Jay-Z, Scott Disick, Jonathan Cheban, Nas, Aziz Ansari and David Blaine, but not on the guest list was one Kim Kardashian.

Now, you might say, Well, she’s 18 months pregnant and probably couldn’t fly, but then that doesn’t answer the question why Kanye didn’t have his widdle party in California since he was out there not attending the baby shower?

Plus, you know Kim would’a hauled her ass onto a plane, and paid for the two extra seats she’d need, to be able to get her picture taken with Beyoncé.

The time clock is ticking down on this relationship.

So, I ranted a bit on Thursday about adulterer and Twitter-aholic LeAnn Rimes and her publicity blitz for her new album Spitfire. She was all, This is my best work and It’s so personal and I wrote about being a cheater and Buy it! BUY IT!! Buy it!!!

Alas, no one did. Spitfire debuted at #36 and sold just 10,000 copies its first week.

Spitfire? More like Misfire.

And lastly, let’s end the weeks’ gossip with the Story of Sad, Vengeful Grandma, AKA Demi Moore.

Friends—these are friends?—are claiming fifty-year-old Demi is getting revenge on her thirty-five-year-old ex, Ashton Kutcher, by showing off his, um, shortcomings.  His penis.

According to an insider—and it’s gotta be one of her girls, maybe the one whose boyfriend Mama stole—says Demi has some revealing images of Ashton’s willie on her phone that appear to show he’s a little short in that area.

Demi had previously been known to say that while Ashton was a great lover, he was a little handicapped in the size department. And,  Demi isn’t the first ex to discuss Ashton’s manhood; back in 2003, the late Brittany Murphy went on a talk show and hinted that Ashton wasn’t well-hung and then apologized for the comment.

Or apologized for his lack of endowment.

This whole thing reminds me of something … oh yeah, a heartbroken high school girl whose football player boyfriend dumped her for another cheerleader and so she starts with the Small Dick Talk.

Except that Demi is decades out of high school. 

A Tony Ramble

Liked it. Didn't love it.

I thought Sean Hayes was very funny. The Little Orphan Annie drag was good, and his bits with Kristin Chenoweth were very funny. His joke about Bernadette Peters being the BP that wasn't destroying the world was spot on.

Catherine Zeta-Jones cannot sing. And what was with that head jerking thing? And then when she won she took the Oh-My-God-I-Can't-Believe-I-Won-But-I'm-Such-A-Freakin'-Phony-I'm-Gonna-Play-It-Off route. Hate her. And,was it just me, or does her husband look older than her dad? Just sayin'.

Ryan Reynolds. Yum.

Will and Jada Pinkett Smith walked out onstage like they were royalty. News flash: You're not.

Jay Z? No.

Matthew Morrison. Dance my little man, dance! So. Not. Gay.

Denzel wins. Yes. Denzel can do anything.

Lea Michele could have been better; I wanted Idina Menzel to sing "Don't Rain On My Parade."

I love the fact that The Tony's is the only awards show where you hear openly gay people thanking their partners and no one drops dead, no one faints, and the ceiling of Radio City doesn't come crashing down. Take note other awards show winners. Gay is okay.

Best joke--for me--of the night, was Sean Hayes and Kristen Chenoweth doing that long sexy liplock and, well, here it is:

Yeah, he so cannot play straight. I didn't buy that for a second. Not.

And speaking of gay playing straight. Ricky Martin! Who will be on Broadway in 2012 ina revival of Evita! Ay papi!

And that's where I leave it.

I Ain't One To Gossip But.........

While the rumors swirl that Whitney Houston has lost her voice, and lost the ability to sustain a single note in the same key for longer than it takes to make a drug deal, one thing she hasn't lost is her appetite.

Perhaps she's feeding her lack of voice with an overabundance of chocolate.

That paragon of truthfulness--Hey! They broke the John Edwards story--the National Enquirer is saying that Whit has ballooned to 175 pounds on her "Nothing But Pork Chops, I mean, Love" tour. Now, sources close to Houston--and by sources, I mean the people that carry the pork chops say the weight gain is due to steroid injections or prednisone treatments for her ALLEGED respiratory infection.
Others say she is going nuts on the room service menu, thinking it's all you can eat.

From the Been-There-Seen-That aisle, with a quick stop at the Has-Been Barrel:

Everything old--and by old I mean stupid...and by stupid I mean mindless 1980s crap movies--is new again.

Tom Selleck has confirmed that there will actually be a 3rd film in the 3 Men and a Baby franchise:
"It is true that Disney checked my availability. And I know they checked Ted's and Steve's and then had a script written, I think tentatively called '3 Men and a Bride' which kind of says it all about the story."

Three Men And A Bride? A tale of polygamy? Huh? What? Huh?
But, oddly enough, even Tom Selleck admits that the first movie was the best, and the second was, well, I'll say it for him, a crapfest, but he's sure the third will be just like the first.

Inane comedy about three juvenile acting men who can't get their own lives together and visit their immaturity on everyone else.

Yeah. I won't be there. Either.

Sonja Morgan, the newest edition to the gaggle of crazies on The Real Housewives of NYC--and I say that with love--was arrested earlier this week after roaring through a stop sign at Two AM in Southampton.

She refused to take the Breathalyzer unless she got a chance to rinse with Tanqueray first, so they dropped her in a cell.

Oh, these housewives. Arrests for being drunk. Arrests for beating up your old boyfriend. Insanity. They have it all.

Still, in Sonja's defense, rumor has it that just as she approached the stop sign, Countless Luann DeLessep's, um, song[?] came on the radio and Sonja hurled her Bentley threw the intersection in hopes of killing herself before the second verse.

I know how she feels. I heard the song on the show last week and suddenly I found myself with my head in the microwave and a finger on defrost.

Just sayin'.

Fran Drescher has outed her ex-husband.
Drescher and her ex, Peter Marc Jacobson, worked hand-in-hand back in 2008 to block Prop H8 in California, and now she's telling us why he was so passionate about it.

The man she was married to for 20 years is a sequin-wearing-Liza-Loving-Fire-Island-going-disco-dancing homo!

Fran Drescher: “Peter and I met when we were 15. We were just kids and didn’t know who we truly were. We went through a lot together...[We are] the best of friends [and] we love each other dearly."
And, of course, they are now taking their oddly dysfunctional marriage to a place where it belongs.

On. TV.

In.A.Sitcom.

Interesting.

I always like it when a famous person, known mostly for their addictions to drugs and, well, or, alcohol--yeah, Lindsay, we're looking at you--cleans up their act.

They start to look like a washed and dried version of their former self.

Unless you're Courtney Love.

Then you begin to look like a nipped-tucked-dermabrasioned-botox'd-lipo'd-chemically-peeled version of your former self.

Yes.

That is Courtney Love.

Before and after.

And speaking of Lindsay--and around here we always speak Lindsanity--she has found a new way to get her legal highs.

Now that she's being all alcohol-braceleted and drug tested, I mean.

Lindsay goes to the dentist.

And she gets teeth pulled.

And she gets all the drugs she needs.

Legally.

Hmmm......Let's see. The average person has 32 teeth, counting the wisdom teeth, so Lindsay probably has another thirty or so scheduled dental appointments before she switches to elective surgeries to get her fix.

At this rate, we won't soon be able to tell the difference between Lohan and Love.

Scary.

We haven't had any Charlie Sheen news for a while, so here goes:

He's going to jail.

At least that's the rumor.

Sources--and by sources i mean courthouse janitors--say that this Monday Charlie will plead guilty to assault and spend the next thirty years in.....

What?

Days? Thirty days?

Damn.

Charlie will spend thirty days in jail for threatening his wife with a knife on Christmas morning...which is a holiday ritual in most drug-and-alcohol-addicted Hollywood homes, or so I'm told.

But, his wife, the attackee, Brooke Mueller, won't be accompanying him on his last day of freedom.

Wow. The man attacks you, threatens you with a knife, and you won't go to court with him as he pleads guilty and heads to the big house? What kind of example is she setting for the Tinseltown set?

As if they weren't gay enough.

This year the Tony Awards are going gayer than ever.

Newly out, and Tony-nominated, Sean Hayes, will be the host of the Gayest Show On Earth.

And now comes news that Glee stars, and Broadways veterans, Lea Michele and Matthew Morrison, are set to perform.

I'd listen to Lea sing anything.

And, well, while she sings, if Matthew could just stand there, looking sexy, and shaking his hot ass like he did on last week's episode, well.......

Heaven.

Tidbits

So. Top Chef. Quick Fire. All the chatter is on Robin. How she shouldn't be there and how pissed everyone is that she hasn't packed her knives and gone.

So, I said to myself, Robin's gonna win something.

And she did. She won the Angel/Devil Quick Fire and all the other chefs, well, mostly Mike Isabella [when is he going home....arrogant asshat] and Jenny Carroll, bitched and moaned about her win. But the worst offender of all was one Eli Kirshtein, who actually made light of the fact that Robin is a cancer survivor.

Eli said he'd play the "Cancer Card" from now on so he would win.

I used to like you, Eli.

Now, you're an asshat.

I am a Glee-k. A big old boa-wearing-show-tune-singing-lip-synching-Matthew-Morrison-loving geek.

Chris Colfer as the Gay Kid is wonderful.

Jane Lynch can do no wrong.

Dianna Agron is the perfect slutty cheerleader.

Last night's episode was brazilliant and if you don't watch Glee. Shame.On.You.

Witty. Clever writing. Fun. And, oh so gay.

Watch it. Dammit!

Last night, just before bed, I'm checking my mail as usual. Carlos is futzing around the house, doing all his nightly business. And, as I check my mail, I notice a card on the desk with a stamp on it. It's one of those cards you send back when you buy a tire, so you can register the purchase in case there are any recalls or such.

It's from WalMart.

Now, we bought a tire at WalMart a few years or so ago, for the car Carlos had before the car he has now, and I thought, Man, he is the procrastinator to end all procrastinators.

When he comes into the room, I ask why he's mailing this registry card in now.

And he says, I got a flat tire yesterday and had to replace it. I told you.

Um, no, you didn't.

Yes, I told you that was why I came so late last night.

Um, no, you didn't. Do you think you could tell me that you got home late because you had a flat tire and had to go to WalMart and have it replaced and I wouldn't say a word? Me? Not say a word?

Oh......I thought I told you.

Cut to ten minutes later. Carlos in bed, reading. I come into the room and head towards the bathroom. I say, over my shoulder, Oh, I forgot to tell you., Two days ago I accidentally shot the neighbor's dog. I thought I'd mentioned it.