Thursday, November 05, 2009

Dish-Interested Double Feature

since returning from the big roadtrip i’ve been a sorry sack of shit about serving as your humble Celebrity Gossip Analyst, but that is about to change with the publication of the last TWO Dish-Interested columns i wrote for Osmosis Online, a very good website that you should be reading daily. my editor asked that i publish only the first few paragraphs of my columns here, with links to the Osmosis site to help drive traffic so please click over to get the full dish.

first up we have a critical analysis of how watching “America’s Next Top Model” can improve your self-esteem. it’s written for the ladies and highlights my own personal neuroses in addition to bashing my favorite egomaniac, Tyra Banks. please read the column while wearing sweats and eating a box of Bon Bons.

Deconstructing ‘America’s Next Top Model’s’ Skinny Bitches, Zit by Zit

Now in its 13th “cycle” (“seasons,” evidently, are so last season), ANTM follows a dozen girls aspiring for the Top Model crown, which comes complete with a Cover Girl contract and a spread in Seventeen magazine.

Winners have included a plus-sized girl and one who overcame a nearly crippling struggle with the skin disorder psoriasis. As a 5' 7" plus-sized girl who’s no stranger to weird skin conditions (turns out they were food allergies), I would like to thank Tyra for giving me a reason to feel beautiful, something I never had before I began to watch the show. Just kidding!

That’s not why I watch it. Sure, it makes me feel good, but not because of its pandering to the “excluded girl,” which is too transparent to be truly effective — especially when one’s jaded and in her thirties. No, I like “America’s Next Top Model” for more deliciously sinister reasons...

next we’re going to talk about an emerging trend in hollywood identified by my acute powers of perception. no, not skinny jeans and ankle boots, but if you guessed star fuckers and meal-ticket babies, award yourself five points. yes, dear readers, it’s true that celebrity DNA is the most sought-after accessory this season. don’t see your lawyer without it.

Meal-Ticket Baby Mania!

Much ink has already been spilled over such women as Kate Gosselin and Octomom Nadya Suleman, the multiple-birth wonders who have dominated the celebrity gossip pages in 2009 with their fertile wombs and questionable appearances. Theirs has been a Jerry Springer-esque story of national proportions, at the root of which is a gaggle of cute kids whose primary function is to serve as paychecks for their mommies.

But less attention has been given to the Star F*cker, the unsung hero of baby mamas who quietly toils at her craft, looking to screw the right star at the right time of the month to produce the ultimate in sex souvenirs: a baby! And not just any baby — a meal-ticket baby who will translate into monthly child support payments and, with the right lawyer, something extra for the mama.

They are the post-modern groupies who understand that the real value in sleeping with celebrities lies not in bragging rights but in DNA...

if you have suggestions for my next column, please suggest. and, as always, thanks for reading. tell your book publisher friends.

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