Introducing Dish-Interested

Photo by Matt Graves

after much consideration, i realized that my goal of dominating the world could never be achieved without writing about celebrity gossip. reading the goss has been a long-standing guilty pleasure of mine and, after years of pretending that i don’t really care or know, i’m ready to emerge from the shadows and admit that, yes, i am one of those people who can name all of Brangelina’s six children — in their correct birth/adoption order, including countries of origin when applicable.

i like celebrity gossip for the same reason everyone else likes it — i’m nosy. it really doesn’t go much deeper than that. i also love a good celebrity scandal — ESCANDALO!! — particularly if it involves a celebrity acting the fool because of lying, cheating or drugs. i’m sure one could say that my sadistic desire to see pampered celebrities fall on their faces is so i could momentarily feel better about my own life, but that’s just dumb pop psychology and we’re not talking about me right now. we’re talking about them.

i’ll be talking about them often over at Osmosis Online, where i will serve as the resident Celebrity Gossip Analyst whose humble mission is to BLOW YOUR FUCKING MIND with profound musings on Lindsay Lohan’s contribution to the popular zeitgeist. i’m sure the Nobel Prize in Literature will follow.

through this gig i hope to have a little fun on the side that i wouldn’t normally have here on the ole bloggy. but no worries, i’m not really cheating on it in a bringing-home-a-sexually-transmitted-disease kind of way; it’s more of a this-will-make-our-relationship-stronger way. i will also be writing the occasional article on other, non-celebrity things and am very interested in hearing your ideas for stories. so please pitch away.

back to the column, it’s called Dish-Interested, though i’m not married to the name. i was thinking Dish Dissected, or maybe Gussipped, which is not a real word but i like the idea of creating one with this column (world domination, remember?). Mo is partial to Cooking with Celebrities. what do you think? the column will run biweekly and be completely ridiculous. i’ll be posting entries here as they go up there.

the first entry published below — and reprinted with permission because i’m their bitch now — is about the sanctity of the celebrity drug overdose, which i believe is being defiled by lazy celebrities who don’t want to work for the glory. with my inaugural column, i hope to restore some respectability to this decades-old practice. column follows:

In case you’ve spent the summer locked in a monastery, Michael Jackson died in late June. Met with sadness by many, apathy by some and even smug satisfaction by those buying into the whole child-toucher thing, these aspects are undeniable: The man made some fantastic music and leaves behind one of the greatest legacies of tabloid fodder and controversy since Elvis Presley, his known idol.

Jackson was far from your typical drug abuser, and it feels unfair to make him the reigning poster boy for the celebrity drug overdose, particularly when he’s the perfect poster boy for so many other things. Perhaps that’s the most tragic thing about his surprise death by overdose — it was completely unearned.

I know how callous this may sound in this Era of Entitlement, where celebrities especially tend to get their way, but if there is one thing that needs to remain sacred in the land of the vapid, it’s the celebrity drug overdose. In practice, it’s best observed in up-and-comers with known drug problems (Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison), or the self-medicating has-beens who can’t cope with being out of the spotlight (Anna Nicole Smith, the Milli Vanilli guy).

There is a well-worn methodology to this storyline, and the overdosee must meet certain characteristics, one of which is being a user of illicit street drugs in addition to prescribed pharmaceuticals. (Sorry Wacko, but Jesus Juice doesn’t count.)

Nowadays, it’s assumed that everyone in Hollywood has an accommodating Dr. Feelgood on speed dial for prescription narcotics, be it Valium, Vicodin, Ambien, Percocet or OxyContin. And if you’re hooked up with the right doctor, it could be all of the above and more. Side effects may include dying accidentally from a lethal drug combination, maybe while waiting for a massage (nice job, Heath Ledger).

It’s a veritable lottery system now, where any celebrity can gain street cred on the way out by overdosing like a rock star with a few mismatched pills and sips of champagne, bypassing the once requisite years of hard partying and drug abuse, the weathered organs and dirty hotel rooms stocked with groupies, gin and cocaine.

Whatever happened to the good old days when we didn’t need to wait for a toxicology report to announce the cause of death because the needle stuck in Janis Joplin’s arm told the whole story? That’s the right way to die of a drug overdose — expectedly, and after years of addiction and related headlines. A few remaining hard partiers might yet achieve it. Which brings us to my inaugural list of the top five celebrities who’ve earned the right to die from a drug overdose.

1. Courtney Love: I know, deduct a point for being obvious, but Love is overdue for her death by overdose — like 10 years overdue. At this point I’m beginning to believe she’s achieved immortality by becoming a vampire and feasting off the blood of virgins. In any case, she’s our first candidate to visit that big pharmacy in the sky, where hubby Kurt Cobain will surely be waiting to welcome her with a cocktail and a syringe.


2. Lindsay Lohan: We’ve all had our fill of drama queen LiLo, but has she had enough? Despite all the scenes she’s made around town, none have been in a decent movie. My only hope for her is that she makes at least one killer film before she buys the farm, a movie that might result in people remembering her for being a good actress as well as a crackwhore. Sadly, Herbie Fully Loaded is not that movie. Keep trying, Lindsay.


3. Whitney Houston: I don’t for a second believe that she is clean and sober and neither should you. Granted, she may be off that wacky crack, but I’m sure she’s replaced it with something legal, “classy” and just as destructive as her 10 years of marriage to Bobby Brown was.


4. Boy George: Oh, Boy, did you really have to tie up that male escort and hold him hostage? I know the drugs made you do it, but they also made you write Karma Chameleon, arguably one of the best songs EVER, so maybe you’re not such a bad guy. But you are past the point of being able to leave a good-looking corpse by dying young, which I’m sure is troubling for any gay man in the public eye.


5. Amy Winehouse: Deduct another point for being obvious. Part of me believes she’s clinically already dead and standing upright because she’s consumed enough amphetamines to power her body for another two years. In the same way that amputees can still “feel” their phantom limbs after they’ve been removed, Amy Winehouse can still “live” past her date of death, which is likely any minute now.

Milla Goldenberg is an LA-based writer and editor. Visit her blog @ MillaTimes.com, or send her hate mail @ MillaGoldenberg@aol.com.

One-Hit Wonders: August 2009

nipples have made a comeback in the search terms pulling up my blog this month, and just in time for fall! there’s also a diverse spattering of household-related nonsense, plus four variations of “i caught my sister fucking our dog,” which have been omitted below but are worth mentioning for the many ways “caught” can be misspelled: cot, cought, caugt. wow! cheers to learning something every day.

• can you hang keys on milla jovovich nipples?


• fukola cola bulk


• how many beers fit in trunk


• superstitions what does it mean when a man tits itch ?


• fashion show backstage dressing photostream


• homemade stumpgrinder


• what could be in the air in our yard that is making me itch and have hives


• the difference between comparatives and superlatives


• morphine drip inserted in spine


• big automatic lactating tits


• pigeon feathers curse

Slow News Month

not a lot happening around these parts lately. august has been relatively relaxing, mostly spent with good friends and family, squeezing every last drop out of the summer with nightly cookouts and cocktails. work has been manageable, sleep has been fulfilling and highs have been in the 70s. i’ve been loving on the lax, perhaps a little too much as evidenced by my lack of updates.

the biggest non-event for me lately has probably been this inexplicable, unwelcome uptick in back pain. i wish i could attribute it to something sexy, like trying out a new position with Mo, but the truth is we haven’t swung from the chandeliers since that one time that resulted in a trip to the ER. plus, we’ve never had chandeliers to swing from. they are so tacky. i prefer disco balls.

truth is i don’t know what the truth is, but my back has been aching like an old person who has an achy back. luckily, my doctor rescued me from having to spend days being unproductive in bed while attached to a heating pad by prescribing some super-powered vicodin, which did much to take the edge off and lighten my mood.

within 10 minutes of taking one of those magic little pills, i became one with the rainbows of life, suddenly teleported into a meadow where unicorns drank from a stream made of chocolate. i think willy wonka might have been there, too. he was talking about giving me his chocolate factory!

he said, “you know what happened to the little girl who got everything she wanted, milla?” i replied, “she was on vicodin?” i think he said “yes” or maybe something about “living happily ever after,” but the phone rang and disturbed my reverie, or maybe i just dreamt it did.

wait, where was i going with this again? i think i may still be feeling some residual side effects of that magic little pill, which include nonsensical euphoria. they also include liver damage and frozen bowels. fun ride, this vicodin train. thankfully, my back has been feeling much better this week, which has allowed me to stop worrying that i may need another back surgery, at least for the short term.

fear of needing another back surgery is a constant in my life. i could wake up with a toothache and, by noon, spin it into a diagnosis of Damaged Vertebrae Requiring Surgery. i’m a jewish hypochondriac like that. because of all this, i’m thinking that it’s time to find a chiropractor to visit regularly for a little back cracking. it’s either that or limiting the chandelier swinging.

in other news, i’m going on vacation soon. this is exciting for many obvious reasons, the greatest of which is NOT HAVING TO WORK while on vacation. my only hope is that i don’t return from break suicidal and forlorn like i usually do.

the plan is for Mo and i to leave around Labor Day and take a leisurely drive up the California coast and into Oregon, stopping in various cities along the way. our ultimate destination is Portland, a city i have not visited in over 10 years, to attend my baby cousin’s wedding (he’s 25).

i’m sure there will be much eating on this vacation, in addition to sleeping, sightseeing, socializing, picture-taking and even some chandelier-swinging. the only problem with this vacation is that it has not already begun. i’m all ants in the pants about it, checking the days off the calendar like a prisoner awaiting a parole hearing. only a few more weeks until i’m free to run through the meadow with the unicorns and drink from the chocolate stream.

One Step Closer to World Domination

how’s that for a pompous headline? the other option i was tinkering with was Irons in the Fire, but that wasn’t nearly as descriptive enough because, clearly, i’m so close to dominating the world that i can taste the champagne wishes and caviar dreams that must accompany such a feat.

and when i finalize my conquest, i’m sure Robin Leach will come out of the woodwork to welcome me into the Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous. he’ll be wearing a white leisure suit, like the ones from Miami Vice but designed by Armani, and holding a flute filled with champagne and gluten-free cracker smothered in caviar. beluga only.

actually, i’m not at all close to world domination, but the only way i’ve managed to trudge through all the work that’s overrun my life lately is by tricking myself into thinking that world domination is the reward for all this effort. because paychecks and pats on the head are not enough. at least not when the world is waiting for me to dominate it by putting it on my keychain and spinning it around on my finger.

the workload has been immense, like work-from-morning-to-night-with-no-time-for-a-shower-or-pee-break immense. like plaster-yourself-to-a-chair-and-stare-at-your-computer-until-your-eyes-bleed immense. thankfully, it appears that the most labor-intensive work is behind me, leaving just steady freelance that i can complete comfortably on weeknights and weekends.

but i know that the threat has not entirely passed and there is more crazy ahead. i can see the clusterfuck coalescing like the plot of a bad ben stiller movie, due to hit me again at the end of the month, right around the time i should be getting ready to go on vacation (portland for my cousin’s wedding).

i do desperately miss my downtime, but considering that i had complained about doing a lousy job of Paying Down Debt in an earlier post, i am not complaining about this sudden interest in my services, which have recently expanded into NEW and EXCITING fields that are so NEW and EXCITING that they deserve the caps lock key.

usually, my moonlighting consists of copy editing and proofreading, but lately i’ve branched into doing more copywriting for ad agencies, QA testing for websites and creating inventories of content. i’m even doing sales work for a good friend by helping him pitch his company. i’m finding that flashing a little tit helps with that one.

the end result is one busy me, still struggling with sleep and wanting very much to clone myself lately, tits and all, to help lighten the load. but if there is one bright side to being busy as hell, it’s this newfound focus i haven’t experienced in ages, where i am as sharp and attentive as a hungry hunter going in to kill his prey. because, nowadays, when i have just one hour free in my day to finish something, by god i will finish it in that hour. and i will not even procrastinate with OCD distractions like checking personal email or cruising facebook every ten seconds, something i thought was not possible.

my only hope is that i can maintain this focus forevermore going forward, which may actually be the thing that can bring me one step closer to world domination, but ooooh, look, the sun is catching the mini disco ball i have hanging in the bedroom and covering the walls in light that looks like glitter!!! so cooool!!!! i wish you guys could see it.