Fear not, for none of these things actually happened. I was indeed in a terrifying place—Ocean City Maryland. I know what you are thinking…what is so scary about OCMD? Have you ever been there? Because if you have, you will have witnessed first hand the type of vacationer that goes to this land of sand and surf. And let me tell you…it ain’t pretty. Never in my life have I seen so many toothless mothers, fathers with their tractors tattooed on their chests and children whose middle, first or last names are “Bubba.”

To kick off the weekend, I wanted to act a little crazy. Why not. Family vacay 09 OCMD WOOOO TAKE YOUR TOP OFF. So I made my sister hop on the crazy train to enjoy what I thought would be a low-key beverage on a raft in the bay at Seacrets. False. Very, very false. Perhaps Seacrets is low key on let’s say a Wednesday afternoon…but at 4p.m. on a Saturday it is anything but. We got to the bar and it was obvious we were about eight hours behind on our drinking game. In fact, I don’t think these creatures ever left the bar from the night before…I saw a few suspect sparkle tops that looked like they saw the sun rise.

So we venture into the bay to enjoy a frozen treat. Oy VEY is all I can say to this. What is more amusing than putting 300 drunk people in the sand? Putting them on flotation devices in THE BAY. This was the equivalent to my Cancun Spring Break experience, but in the states. People were slurring, cups were spilling in the bay, test tubes were floating around (I silently prayed they once had vodka in them, and not sperm or pee) and it was all around one big sloppy mess. People legit could not even stand up. Thankfully the bay water only really went up to your kneecap so it was still acceptable to laugh when the drunk girls fell down, as there was no real danger they would drown.

And sadly, that was the highlight of the trip. We did take my mother to the water park, and though that was amusing it really did not hold a flame to my brief Seacrets encounter.

So fret not, here I am…no bark tree was ingested (as far as I know) nor did I have to use banana leaves as toilet paper on my trails.

WTF EW OMG LOL BRB TTYL. WHATTTTTT is going on Madonna? I just threw up in my mouth looking at this picture. The Daily Mail, ever so witty posted this picture of Madonna out in London today and said if she decides to end her singing career, she could pose for medical students learning the muscular system. Good one.

Ok, but seriously how did this happen? I know you want to sympathize with your children from third world countries but lets not get all gun-ho about the food scarcity issue. I seriously think Mercy James has more meat on her arms than her mother. See, this is why I stopped working out…I am choosing to lead by example Madonna; maybe youuuu should do the same. And you know how everyone sucks in when getting their picture snapped? Is she sucking in her arms? Like, does she want them to be vainy and skelator like for the cameras? I’m befuddled.

This may be just the trick I need though to get my neighbor to stop talking to me. There is a man in our building who is probably mid-70s…he wears bejeweled sunglasses that I am fairly certain were a grandchild’s at one point and time. Nice man, however I believe he may be developing a small case of Alzheimer’s. Every day we ride the elevator together (as we are the only two people in the building who do not work) and EVERY DAY we have the same conversation. It goes a little something like this:

Bejeweled Neighbor: You live in the building?

Me: Yup

BN: 4^th floor?

Me:  Yup. That’s where the elevator is going. Right next to you.

BN: How do you like that apartment you got there? (as if he now suddenly remembers me)

Me: It’s really nice.

BN: You got a great bathroom there! How about that bathroom…brand new! That’s something

Me: Mmhmm.

Ok, now I don’t want to get too personal but our bathroom is nothing to write home about. Sure, it’s fine…way better than my last apartment where the toilet was literally crooked. Have you ever tried to pee crooked? It’s not fun let me tell you. But this bathroom is like any ordinary bathroom in New York may look like. It has nasty tiles on the floor, a sink, a toilet and a shower. What it is not, is brand new. And if it is…someone should get their money back from the contractor. I don’t dare to venture into BN’s apartment to see what his bathroom facility looks like, but as mystified as he is by my situation, I am guessing his bathroom is nothing more than a chamber pot on the ground. And why he knows my bathroom is sooo great is also beyond me. Stop creeping, BN.

So yes, the next time BN tries to strike up a convo with me yet again, I shall just flash him Madonna’s bag o’ bones…that’ll shut up him.

Dear Jill Zarin,

I have a bone to pick with you. A little birdie told me you were spotted noshing with angry tiger t-shirt man himself Jon Gosselin, and his flavor of the week Star reporter Katie Major. JILLIAN! You know about the Hamptons girl, people talk!

But first, before we even get to Jon, let’s talk about your host for the evening—Michael Lohan. Really, Jill? Is there is no one else to hang out with in the Hamptons this week or something? And the conversation at dinner:

“He talks about them. He’s on the phone with them all the time,” said Lohan to People about Jon’s kids. “But unfortunately, as I well know, being a father in a divorce, it’s really hard on the kids. And you just want to be with them all the time. But sometimes our exes don’t make it that easy.”

Jillian, you realize this man went to jail for stock fraud right? Oh and then twice more for violation probation. Lord, the man has been to his regular jail cell probably more than he has used his Hamptons McMansion. Is this the kind of people you want to be associated with Jill? No, I didn’t think so. I’m all for a free meal, but the Housewives are not going to like this. I can already see Ramona’s eyes bulging out of her head as she stammers about now.

Now, on to Jon. How would you feel if Bobby just abandoned you and young Ali with her juvenile arthritis so that he could go relive the youth he never had.  I don’t think you would like that. I’m sure you put in a lot of work to land husband #2 along with your safe full of exquisite jewels.  Yet, even though your judgment may be skewed in terms of your dinner party companions, you never cease to amaze me with your words of wisdom.

“He didn’t seem smitten. They weren’t all over each other. But they’re definitely dating. It came up in conversation. She had her hands on him. But she’s young. This is a girl who is going to want to have babies. Does he really want to go out with another young girl and have kids?”

Truer words were never spoken.

But next time Jill, before you go to a dinner party please do a little Googling on your dinner party cohorts. I’d expect this from Bobby, after all he did befriend Mario when he was clearly making you upset about the tennis match of the century, but you—never. You know better. And where was Bethenny? I hope you didn’t replace her as your Biffer-she needs your help planning the wedding! Don’t turn your back on us now for the perks of Hollywood, Bravo we need you. I’m already debating taking my velvet curtains from Zarin fabrics back to the store after this little show you put on. I can’t have curtains that come from people who associate with these walks of life hanging in my room, oh no.

Hugs and Kisses,

C

I had a pretty terrible day today, I won’t lie. I decided for five minutes I should work in a consignment shop and stare at Chanel and Dior all day. Instead, I had to stare at a 45 year old washed up surfer on acid man who legit called a staff member the “c” word. And no, I don’t mean cutie pie. Needless to say I lasted 3 hours and I’m guessing I won’t be getting paid for that, so it’s  almost like I took a big long nap in the middle of the day and did jack nothing!

However, when times get tough as we all know I like to look at people whose lives are shitty or if possible shittier than mine. This week, that award would have to go to Lindsay Lohan. Not only did she star in that AWFUL movie not made for TV only to go straight to TV Labor Pains this weekend, her little lesbian heart is all tangled and twisted over Samantha Ronson. Life is hard.

This week, reporters caught Sam and Drea de Matteo out to dinner (you go Sam!! Drea is one hot tamale if I do say so myself in a completely not lesbian way). Needless to say, Lindsay was not a happy redhead. Sam claimed the two are “best friends” but like a bat out of hell, Lindsay showed up to Sam’s house at the wee hour of 6:30 a. m. The last time someone woke me up that early they lost three knuckles. Is this bitch loose?

Here is the vid. Loving the clothes outside on the doorstep. Those Urban Outfitter bags are so useful! I used one for a picnic this week and Samantha is using hers in a lovers quarrel! Talk about recycling.

Meet your new stepmom.

Ok, honestly I don’t really feel bad for Hailey Glassman.

1. Her last name is Glassman so I ‘m sure she feels that it is her honest duty as a Glassman to inspect anything made of glass. If that happens to be a bowl, then so be it.
2. Where are your pants?! Your high, not drunk for pete’s sake! Did you get the munchies and try to eat them?
3. You’re friends a gold, and I hope you treat them like it. What a GOOD friend to capture memories like this for you so that you can remember them always. You just don’t see them like this anymore, you really don’t.

Not so ironically, a poll on PopEater on July 17 said that 58% were on Kate’s side. Surely, Kate has Hailey and her magical gravity bong to thank for that. In a previous poll on June 22 62% were on Jon’s side. Dayum, that sucks Jon. Maybe it’s the angry tiger t-shirts. Or maybe it’s the trash company you keep. We may never know.

If there is one thing that irks me more than usual on a Monday morning is when celebrities decide to do something remotely athletic, and the media makes is seem like they just landed on the moon. For example, today’s groundbreaking story from People:

PEOPLE EXCLUSIVE

Fit & Trim Valerie Bertinelli Finishes Half-Marathon

Hmm…ok first of all, this is exclusive news? Did she carry an orangutan on her back for 13.1 miles? Oh she didn’t? She just ran, like the other 5,000 plus runners that did the race? Well, maybe she only has one leg. What’s that you say? Oh she has two legs. Well, good for her.

After finishing the race, Bertinelli said, “My legs are killing me, but I think I’m so high and excited and full of pride – which is an unusual thing for me! – that I probably won’t feel it for a couple days,” says the actress, 49. “I am in amazement. I can’t believe what a body can do if you believe in it.” Believe it sister. Apparently you aren’t the only one who believes it, as the world’s largest half marathon in England has an expected 52,000 runners this year. Looks like the cat is out of the bag.

I’m very happy Val decided not to be a fat ass anymore, really I am. That’s great because when I am 49 I can assure you, I will be putting down the free weights and picking up the Hostess cupcakes. But I mean-she was paid to lose weight…so really let’s not roll out the red carpet yet.

Next on Val’s list is to run a full marathon before she turns 50. She better hop to it…that is slightly different than running a half, because, you know it’s double. I’m sure she will be wearing a spandex Jenny Craig running suit for all the world to envy.

Sorry, that was me just bashing my head against my keyboard after watching this video of Jon Gosselin landing in the U.S. after vacationing in France with Christian Audigier and girlfriend Hailey “pass the blunt” Glassman.

UGHHH

1. You are a tool. There is just no other way to say it. He seriously reminds me of the kid in junior high that thought he was such a badass for getting suspended two weeks in a row and roamed the halls grabbing girl’s asses thinking he was the coolest thing since sliced bread when secretly everyone that he was the biggest d-bag ever. This kid now lives in a trailer, has three teeth and still thinks he is the coolest thing since slice bread. Oh c’mon, you know who I’m talking about…we’ve all seen them.
2. “One cup of coffee in France is $10.” Yes, we all know you went to France LA DEE FRIGGIN DA. Shut up.
3. He tells the photographer’s he doesn’t want to discuss anything because he doesn’t want to get in trouble. Yet, he keeps talking about it. This is the equivalent to Maddie throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of a mall for attention. You teach them well, Jon.
4. THAT IS THE UGLIEST SHIRT EVERRRRRRRR. STOP WEARING IT.
5. Jon claims he’s been smoking “forever” again, please reverted to point #1. Cool kid on the playground that smokes to be “cool.” I’m sorry, are we in ninth grade? Did I miss something? I strongly doubt you were smoking in your home with EIGHT CHILDREN.
6. As he checks his messages, I sincerely hope it’s Kate, ripping him a new one. We need to get that girl out for a one night stand if not to make her feel better to make America feel better that she is no longer hung up on this jackass.
7. Jon tells the photographers his girlfriend is staying in France and he came back because he had to “work.” AKA hang out with his family on camera. God, I hate when “work” gets in the way of my life.
8. Nice oversized Gucci bags…did you become a club promoter overnight? Did we miss something?

I’m disgusted. I hate this man. I hate those angry tiger t-shirts. I did not think it was possible to have so much hate for one breathing object in the world but Jon Gosselin has proved me wrong. Sigh.

Ok, now I’ll talk about Jessica Simpson and Tony Romo, but only because John Mayer got involved. Sometimes, when I reflect on my life and think about all the things that are going astray, a single thought comes into my head- at least I’m not Jessica Simpson.  And it’s true, because when things get bad you have to remind yourself that Jess has always had it slightly worse. Sure, she has millions of dollars but she’s also had her divorce basically broadcasted on national television (not to mention her stupidity), has been seen as the scarlet A for the Dallas Cowboys AND has Joe Simpson as a father. So in the end, would you rather have her money or a dad whose hair has so much product in it does not blow in the wind and who may or may not inappropriate touch his daughters? That’s what I thought.

Poor Jess got her heart stomped on by Tony Romo this past week on the night of her 29^th birthday. She was so upset she had to cancel her Ken and Barbie themed birthday party! Well, naturally because you can’t be Barbie and show up to the party without Ken. However, why you are having a birthday party that would equally be as acceptable for a 12 year old to have when you are on the brink of 30 is beyond me. I’ll blame that on your father, as I’m sure he had something to do with it when he helped you pick out your teeny tiny Barbie outfit.

What’s comical is what Romo’s teammate says about the breakup to Us Weekly. “I didn’t give her no flack,” Dallas safety Ken Hamlin said. “Every time I met her, I had nothing negative to say about her. She did a good job.” She did a good job? By keeping the middle of the field open and driving the ball home? This is a relationship buddy, not a Hail Mary play on the field. You do realize you are talking about a girl and not a teammate, right?

But now there is another piece to the puzzle, and his name is John Mayer. Rumors say that Romo really dumped Jess when he found text messages on her phone from John Mayer. How this is possible I don’t know, because that would mean he would have to stop Twittering for 20 seconds long enough to send the damn thing (seriously, he blows up my Twitter feed. I get it John, you have no friends).  And by looking at some of Mayer’s tweets, this can only foreshadow what he was texting to Jess. Take a looksy.

@johncmayer

-Dream-tweeting from inside my nap. This is really fantastic. I am a merman and my scales don’t start until after my balls, so, yay there.

-paying for sex in baby carrots. #thingsthatwillbelegalinthefuture

-I just made myself laugh thinking about a TV show about a time-traveling chronic masturbator.

Oh yes, good stuff. I’m sure his texts were much similar. They probably went something like this:

-“Send me pic of your boobs”

-“Can I pay you for sex in baby carrots?”

-“Can I not pay you for sex at all?”

-“Wait, forgot. . . who is this?”

Poor Jess, dumped because of John Mayer. But with every closed door another one opens and maybe, just MAYBE now that Nick and Vanessa have broken up and you are back in the market my favorite celebrity couple can get back together-and all would be right in the world again.

First off, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to hear that rumors of Ed Hardy starting a kid’s clothing line with Jon are false. And that’s not because I can’t stand Jon and his Bluetooth, au contraire. It’s Christian Audigier who needs to crawl into a hole and never resurface. If I see one more white trash girl from New Jersey or Real Housewife walking around with his ugly tattoo shirts with the matching glittery hat, it’s going to get ugly. And I’m sorry; shouldn’t that $275 you are paying for a sweatshirt with angry tigers on it go towards something a tad more useful….lets say your children Jon??

But what really tickled my fancy this morning was the news about Jon Gosselin’s new biddy, Hailey Glassman and the fact that she was arrested. Gasp no! Trash attracts more trash?! How does this happen?! The universe is a sick, sick place I tell you.

In all fairness, the 22-year-old trollup was arrested for marijuana possession, so that doesn’t really count. I mean, come on…we’ve all been there I’m fairly certain. But regardless, Us Weekly has the deets:

“According to Jerry Minger, the communications officer at the IU Police Department, Glassman and five friends were hanging out in a parking lot at 3:18 a.m. on Oct. 2, 2005. A cop spotted the group “passing a pipe back and forth, which is consistent with marijuana,” Minger tells Us Weekly.

All six people were patted down and arrested for a variety of charges, Minger says. Glassman was arrested for possession of marijuana because she had two plastic baggies in her handbag that later tested positive for THC. One bag contained one gram, the other, 2 grams.”

Ok girl, get yours! What cracks me up the most is her mug shot.

Hailey dearest is CLEARLY high as a kite, look at this thing! She is on planet Mary Jane right now, there is now way she has any idea what is going on. Bright lights? Oooooo. And check out that use of hair product, good work on the mousse usage. I’m not going to lie; I’m starting to like this girl. Maybe she can slip Kate a mickey to loosen her up a little bit. It can’t hurt.

I trek to the park in my people watching sunglasses, aka sunglasses that take up 89% of your face so really only the tip of your nose gets tan but you have maximum ocular privacy to blatantly stare at people, ready to get my tan on. As I lay down I realize I was laying next to the same girl I saw yesterday in the park…whom my sister and I deemed “Black Beauty.” For short, I shall call her BB. Well, BB called a friend to lay out with her today, who also brought her sweaty, panting dog along. It took about ten minutes for me to figure out that BB wasn’t at Sheep’s Meadow for some sun, ohhh no no. She was there for some tail, and I’m not talking about sweaty, panting dog’s tail.

The dog just happened to wander in the direction of a boy donning a sweat band, bronzing himself on a towel nearby. “Oh my gawddd” shrieked BB, “I am SO sorry he is bothering you!” Oh puhleeze. That is the oldest one in the book. Regardless sweatband man fell right for it. “You know, I usually don’t like little dogs…but this one is just sooo cool!” Again, vomit. Plus the fact that it’s not even her dog!

Needless to say BB and SM (sweat band man) strike up a convo as the dog chewed on his water bottle. About ten minutes later, the friend (who actually owned the dog) left, because really her job was done. Where can I find a friend like that? I mean, she could have been paid, it’s a serious possibility.

And just in case the dog didn’t seal the deal, SM immediately commented on BB’s book of choice which was a total decoy because she was reading TUCKER MAX. Ok, I admit in a sick and twisted way I liked Tucker Max, but never EVER would I bring it out in public to read.  No respectable girl does that, they just don’t. You read that shit on Christmas vacation, in your bedroom or MAYBE on a train, only if you are masking it behind a copy of The Notebook. But noo, BB brought Tucker right out in broad daylight, so she could prove to SM that she was succchhhh a cool girl because she though Tucker Max was “soo funny!” So these two are chatting about what a dick Tucker Max is and how he can’t believe he treated girls that way (newsflash: it’s a book. Tucker Max is lying) and BB is just soaking it all up.

Well, that was really enough regurgitation for me in one day. Though I have to admit, although cynical and bitter it was a bit endearing to see these two dimwits fall head over heels for each other. It reminded me of sweet, simple times where all you need is a beach towel, cocoa oil and a little bit of luck…kind of like the Jersey Shore.

More importantly, this enforces my point that I need a dog to live in this city. I just do. And it has to be a badass dog. One time I dog sat for a friend and was so excited to take my faux dog to the park and pick up some hotties, however, the only thing my rented Maltese and I attracted were old ladies with animal crackers in their pockets (not like I was complaining as they fed me animal crackers). So no Maltese, Poodles or teacup anything.

In fact, I’m going big. Like, really BIG. When I get a dog, it will be a Mastiff. Look at this thing! It’s an obese person with fur!

My dog will not only be a great conversation starter with guys and their little bitch Rottweilers, it would eat BB and her little dog too (insert evil witch laugh here)! Watch out Central Park, here I come with my furry little Yeti.