Sexy is in the eye of the beholder...

Things that are sexy:
1. Men who know how to pick out a good bottle of wine.
2. Sharing sushi.
3. Candlelit dinners.
4. Matching bra and underwear. (verus what I usually do - grab whatever's on top)
5. George Clooney. (it had to be said)

Things that are NOT sexy:
1. Fanny packs. (sorry for the blurry picture - I took it through the window of a moving car)

It's just not the same...

You know what really gets my panties in a twist? You go to the salon, get a fabulous haircut and blow-out...you're feeling like a supermodel, sashaying down the street, swinging your hair like you're in a Pantene commercial.

The next day you wake up, eager to show off your new do...ONLY YOU CAN'T BLOW-DRY IT AND STYLE IT PROPERLY SO IT DOESN'T LOOK AS FAB ANYMORE AND YOU'RE WISHING THE STYLIST WOULD'VE LAID OFF THE LAYERS A BIT AND YOU CURSE HER BECAUSE SHE CLEARLY USED SOME MIRACLE PRODUCT BUT DIDN'T SHARE IT WITH YOU BECAUSE IT'S HER WAY OF GETTING YOU HOOKED ON HER LIKE SOME SCISSOR-CARRYING DRUG PUSHER.

I think that's maybe what happened to Jennifer Love Hewitt:

A confession...

I love to watch other people dance. I just LOVE it. So you can understand why I had to post this video...to spread the joy to others. It's so much better with the sound - but in case you don't have speakers, you should know that he's dancing to "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred.

The worst songs ever...

CNN just ran a story about the worst songs ever. Check it out.

I agree with many of them. I especially agree with "I've Never Been To Me" by Charlene, a song that is so awful that it's almost a parody of itself. And I quote, "I've been undressed by kings and I've seen some things that a woman ain't supposed to see. I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me."

I also agree with the choice of Paul Anka's "Having My Baby." Ahem, "Whoa, the seed inside ya baby, do you feel it growin'" Listen up, Paul. Singing about "seed" is not romantic. Generally speaking, songs about knockin' up a groupie aren't romantic. They're creepy. Just plain creepy, Paul.

Here are my top five picks for the worst songs ever. Click the links to read the lyrics for yourself.

1. PopoZao - Kevin Federline (need I say more?)
2. Love To Love You Baby - Donna Summer (I love Ms. Donna but I abhor this song almost as much as PopoZao. It's so whiney and...well, whiney!)
3. Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm - Crash Test Dummies (Though I haven't heard it since approximately 1996, when I hear this song it makes me want to beat the singer with my shoe)
4. Rico Suave - Gerardo (Gerardo, and this song, make me throw up in my mouth a little bit)
5. Gypsy Woman - Crystal Waters (I could've written the lyrics to this song while blind-folded, one hand tied behind my back, using only my teeth and a crayon stub...oh, and while intoxicated or unconscious)

Sexy is in the eye of the beholder...

Things that are sexy:
1. Champagne and strawberries.
2. Marlon Brando in "A Streetcar Named Desire." (not to be confused with Marlon Brando in "The Godfather")
3. Men who are well-read. (the sports page and porn don't count)
4. Breakfast in bed.
5. George Clooney. (I just never get tired of saying his name)

Things that are NOT sexy:
1. Sandals with socks.

Fed up...

Me again. I'd like to discuss the following photo:



In case your eyes were too offended by the ugly hat/wife beater combo (popularized by old Cuban men who sell oranges and churros on the street in Miami) let me point out that's Kevin Federline performing...in front of PEOPLE. Though I'm fairly certain that attracting that crowd involved a combination of horse tranquilizer, cheap vodka and 300 cases of Red Bull, it's not K-Fed's outfit, lack of talent, trailer trash wife, stupid nickname, habit of producing illegitimate children, horrible fashion sense or greasy hair, that I want to discuss. That would be petty.

What I'd like to discuss is her:


She looks like she's having a good time, huh? At a KEVIN FEDERLINE CONCERT. Does everyone else see where I'm going with this?

Poor mistaken lost child. For her sake I hope she's drunk. I hope she sucked down one too many Long Island Iced Teas (doesn't she look like a Long Island girl?) and mistook K-Fed for Eminem...or Julio Iglesias. Long Island's will do that to you.

But my point is, NO ONE should be having this much fun at a Kevin Federline performance. NO ONE should wave their hands in the air like they just don't care at a Kevin Federline concert. Because they should care. They should care very much. They should care because THIS is what he's singing:

In Portuguese it means bring your ***,
on the floor, and move it real fast.
I want to see your kitty and a little bit of ***
wanna know where I go when I'm your city?

Girl, don't you worry about all the dough,
because a cat is coming straight outta the know,
ready to rock them shows all the way to Rio.
Bring that Brazil booty on the floor.

That's wrong, people. It's wrong on so many levels.

This message goes out to the girl in the photo who is one glow stick away from being a Saturday Night Live sketch. You know how your mom used to tell you not to feed stray cats because then they would just keep coming back? Same situation.

Do not encourage K-Fed. By "encourage" I of course mean smile, clap, make eye-contact with, not spit on, etc. Anything that may lead him to believe that people enjoy the cacophony he calls music. (and by "music" I of course mean, "crap")

One more thing. If for some bizarre reason you actually enjoy Kevin Federline's music...well, may God help you. If it's any consolation, he and Britney should be splitting any day now. Soon he'll be available again. (and by "available" I of course mean "broke and free to spread his VD throughout the country.")

The dark (yet comical) side of MySpace...

Anyone else addicted to MySpace? Yeah, me too.

Check out this web site - going on the list of favorites - for the most hideous MySpace pages around.

Pin the tail on the Paris...

I just read an article that says Paris Hilton is developing her own range of cell phone games.

And I quote, "Mobile gaming is really hot right now, and I'm excited to be part of this project." (for the love of God and all that is holy, STOP with the "that's hot" crap - it's so 2005.)



Let's brainstorm, shall we?

POSSIBLE MOBILE PHONE GAMES FOR PARIS:

1. Celebutant Ultimate Fighting: pit Paris against Nicole Richie, Lindsey Lohan, The Olsen Twins. Instead of punching to score points, players slap each other, bad-mouth each other, or sleep with other players' boyfriends.

2. Descriptor Death Match: players are challenged to use phrases other than "that's hot" to describe something enjoyable. First one to resort to "that's hot" is given a strong electrical shock from their cell phone. (not enough to kill, just enough to cause sudden loss of all hair and tongue use)

3. Pin the Skank on the Greek: in this fun adventure, players try to catch a Greek shipping heir with their "skank trap." Watch out for ex-girlfriends!

Do you have a suggestion for a Paris Cell Phone Game? If so, add a comment and I'll post it on the site!

*********

snowywoodz suggests: How about "Pin The Brain On The Heiress"? Or, how about "Reality Check"? Or, "Paris Meets The Real World"? Or, "Make Paris Disappear"? God, when will she go away??!!!???

The Dream Dictionary Strikes Again...

Last night I had a dream that I had braces and was freaking out because...well, because I had BRACES and because I am NOT a 12 year old girl. (sorry to disappoint all you internet sex pervs) I decided to visit my favorite online dream dictionary to interpret my dream.

And I quote, "To dream that you have braces indicates that you should not be so quick to criticize. You should stop talking too much and listen to what others have to say. It may also indicate your brashness."

Damn you, dream dictionary. Damn you.

Practical Renee...

The Bosh is reporting that Renee Zelwegger has cut and dyed the wedding dress she wore when she married Kenny Chesney (for 7 minutes).

According to a story in InTouch Weekly she wants to be able to use it again, though clearly not as a wedding dress. She had it shortened and dyed blue.

I have a few problems with this story. I mean if it were MY Carolina Herrera dress I'd do whatever it takes to get more use out of it. But that's because it probably cost more than both my kidneys combined. That, and I probably had to sell all my other clothes to buy the dress so I'd have nothing else to wear.

But I find it hard to believe that Renee is so hard-up for cash that she can't just have Carolina make her another dress.

I don't believe in luck - well, not all the time - but I do believe in karma and if you ask me, wearing the dress from a marriage that lasted less time than Ruben Studdard's 15 minutes of fame is just not a good idea. For anyone.

Take my advice, Renee. Hop in your Mercedes and drop off the dress at the nearest Goodwill. (do they have those in Beverly Hills?) Or better yet, send it to me. I know some santeros in Miami that can give it a good "despojo" and rid it of its negative mojo.

Whatever you do, just don't wear it. Who knows what'll happen? It might force you to make another movie like Empire Records, or worst yet, like Down With Love. Now THAT would be a tragedy.

BWOT’s Cool Places You’ll Probably Never See…

Here at BWOT we strive to give you an insider’s look into today’s pop culture. (and by “we” of course I mean “me”) But BWOT is about more than making fun of strangers using only a camera phone and a laptop. We (I) want to open doors to new and exotic places, things you only hear about in movies, shrines and monuments and other must-see places. Which is why I bring you this:

What in the name of Tonya Harding is this, you ask? Hold on to your hats, ladies and gentlemen. This is the glorious Princess Diana shrine at El-JeBowl bowling alley in El Jebel, Colorado.

Note the Scotch-taped newspaper article (from the Aspen Times) about the Princess’ visit to the area in the early 90s. (Granted if it were me, I might’ve sprung for a frame rather than rely on the archival power of some tape from The Dollar Store. But who am I to judge?) Also on display, the shoes and ball the Princess used during her visit, along with what I think is an autographed t-shirt.

It’s easy to make the connection, isn’t it? Princess Diana personified class, elegance, and grace. And what goes better with class than rented shoes and watered down beer? Nothing. Not a damn thing.

You go, Princess Di. You and your bowling mementos will live on in our hearts forever.

An open letter to Lindsey Lohan...

Dearest Lindsey,
What happened to the cute little red-haired, freckle-faced girl who wreaked havoc on her evil shrew of a future stepmother in The Parent Trap? You were so precious, so precocious. I wanted to shrink you and your faux-twin sister and turn you into little dangly earrings – that’s how precious you were.

Then came Mean Girls Lindsey and I thought, “My little Lindsey is all grown up!” Sassier red hair, less obvious freckles…okay, so it was hard to ignore the new rack but your sparkly personality made them seem less…what’s the word…slutty. For the record, Linds, I don’t care whether they’re real or fake. Hell, if I had the cash and the tolerance for pain I would be at the surgeon’s office right now asking for a pair of “Lohans” of my very own.

But I digress…

Honestly, Lindsey, I don’t know where to start with you. The eating disorder would be too easy, although yes, I want you to eat a cheeseburger. I think you’re growing out of that phase. You seem to be filling out a bit and that makes me happy. (especially because now you’re only 100 pounds thinner than me instead of 110.)

I suppose I could start with the fact that you get more play than Donkey Kong. (Was that catty? I can never tell.) But I’ve lost track, Lindsey. You’ve been linked to Wilmer, Jared, Colin, Chad, George…GEORGE CLOONEY, Lindsey. How COULD you? I thought we were friends. I thought we had an understanding. Clearly I was wrong.

Actually, I’m concerned about your new friendship with Kate Moss and the constant slew of pictures of you popping up on the internet. Don’t play dumb with me. You know the ones I’m talking about – the ones of you trying to be cool and hardcore.

Listen up Ms. Freaky Friday, you will NEVER be hardcore and wearing black nail polish or hanging out with cokehead supermodels isn’t going to change that. Flashing gang signs and making lewd gestures…also not cool. Dressing like a Fifth Avenue bag lady…that’s Mary Kate and Ashley’s thing. Not yours. Let it go. Get your own ugly dressing habit – like Mariah Carey’s short, ill-fitting skirts, or Sienna Miller’s chaste peasant dresses.

I’ve developed a theory. I think you actually are a twin. I think there’s Good Lindsey (GL) and Evil-Slut-Bag (ESB) Lindsey. Clearly ESB Lindsey is getting all the media attention these days. I have a plan, GL. It involves a tranquilizer dart, a Big Brown Bag from Bloomingdales, and a large mailbox at the UPS Store on 81st and 1st. I shouldn’t put anything more in writing. Call me later and we can discuss.

Until then I’ll keep reciting a silent prayer for Herbie the Love Bug Lindsey, in the hope that one day we can be reunited. Until then, I’ll just have to dust off my Hayley Mills earrings.


Kisses,
Denise

Sexy is in the eye of the beholder...IV

Things that are sexy:
1. The plumber on Desperate Housewives.
2. Men who play the guitar.
3. Ripped abs.
4. Good hair.
5. Did I mention George Clooney?

Things that are NOT sexy:
1. Rat tails:

Sexy is in the eye of the beholder…Third Time’s a Charm.

Things that are sexy:
1. Cute guys with puppies.
2. Back massages.
3. Sting’s voice.
4. Dr. McDreamy.
5. Anything said in French.

Things that are NOT sexy:
1. Speedos. (yes, even the longer ones. and no, it doesn’t matter if you have a nice body.)

A passion for fashion...

There are people in this world who make it a better place just by being in it. I think this guy is one of those people:


I could write all kinds of witty commentary to accompany this photo, but quite frankly, I think it's best if you experience the joy of Peter Pan - and I am NOT kidding about the name - for yourselves:

http://www.pixyland.org/peterpan/

Enjoy!

Sexy is in the eye of the beholder...Part Deux

Things are are sexy:
1. Flowers for no reason.
2. Bubble baths.
3. Colin Farrell.
4. Men who like babies.
5. Boxer briefs.

Things that are NOT sexy:
1. Bad comb-overs.

Hugs, not UGGs...

It’s time for the Big Waste of Time (BWOT) Blog’s first ever Pop Quiz!



Question: Is this woman an Eskimo?

A. Yes, of course!
B. No way, Jose! (or Nanuk)
C. What’s an Eskimo?

If your answer was B, you're correct. (if you answered C please log off of your computer and crawl out from the rock you're living under.)

Since I’m fairly certain that Eskimos don’t live in New York, I think it’s safe to assume that this woman is not - by standard definitions - an Eskimo. So why, I ask you, is she wearing those shoes?

I read in a magazine that the UGGs with miniskirt trend is out. When exactly was it in? Would you walk outside in a full-length winter coat and flip-flops? I think not. A bikini and ski boots? No, of course not. That would be silly. So WHY is it okay to wear what is clearly a Spring skirt with boots that were intended for people who seal hunt and eat whale blubber in frigid temperatures?

I should add that I have all sorts of problems with this outfit. It’s…what’s the phrase I’m looking for? Ah yes, it’s very “small town girl in the Big City.” I bet she spent her entire paycheck from the Piggly Wiggly on those UGGs from the Sears catalog. (maybe they threw in the shirt as a gift with purchase?)

But I digress. Let this serve as a public service announcement for women everywhere. They call them UGGs for a reason. As in, “UGG! Not those ugly shoes again!” Stop the madness, ladies. Remember, if you’re not part of the solution then you’re part of the problem.

An open letter to Britney Spears:

Dear Britney –
Britney, Britney, Britney. How the mighty have fallen. I won’t lie, I once loved you. I was jealous of your perfect hair (extensions), your perfect (capped) teeth, your perfect (surgically enhanced) body, your cute ex-Mousekateer boyfriend.

Was it Justin? Did the break-up push you over the fine line that exists between “down home” and trailer trash? Was it the fact that Christina Aguilera had seemingly mastered the trashy-chic look and you felt threatened, like maybe she knew something you didn’t and you wanted to hop on that trash train before it left the station?

I want to understand, Brit. I really do.

I forgave you for hooking up with Colin Farrell because, let’s face it, he may be a skank but he’s a hot skank and that makes him trash-tastic.

I forgave you (yet I can’t forget) when you walked out of that gas station bathroom without your shoes on. (I hope you’ve sought treatment for the fungal infection that you no doubt developed in there)


I got over it when you married that guy from Seinfeld in Vegas. He looks different than his “George” character on the show. Not as short, old, balding or chubby. I told my friends, “She’s just young and carefree! We all do stupid things!” Okay so driving with your newborn on your lap was PROBABLY not the best idea but I’m going to go with the “new mom still learning the ropes” argument and try to move on.

But Brit, I can’t…I just CANNOT support your marriage to that no-talent, one-step-from-Jeff-Foxworthy, dumber than a bag of hair, man-whore hack. And what upsets me the most, Brit is that I feel that you laid out the old “Slip-N-Slide” and dove across the aforementioned fine line. BRITNEY, CAN’T YOU SEE? You are just a trailer away from being trailer trash! HELP ME HELP YOU, BRIT.

Now you know that I don’t judge. I’m not a judger. I want to help – to provide solutions. Here’s what I think you should do.

1. Dump Kevin. And I mean literally – there are a ton of landfills in Southern California. And money buys anything, Brit. Ask around. People KNOW people. People who can make other people disappear, if you know what I’m saying. You’d be doing the world a favor – no more PopoZao.

2. Use a hot oil treatment weekly. Home girl, your hair is starting to look like yellow yarn. It reminds me of the Rainbow Bright doll I had as a child.

3. Wear shoes. Especially outside. Especially in places where people miss the toilet more often than not.

4. Hook up with a celebrity – someone with a teensy bit of class to help up yours. Maybe a Jake Gyllenhal or John Legend.

5. Lay off the Ho-Hos. I’m just trying to help, Brit. Let’s face it, keep hittin’ the BK drive-thru and you’ll never get back into those sassy leather chaps from the “I’m A Slave” video.

Believe me, this hurts me more than it hurts you. But I share because I care.

Kisses,
Denise

Sexy is in the eye of the beholder...

Things that are sexy:
1. British and Australian accents.
2. Jeans that give "good butt."
3. A smidge of 5 o'clock shadow.
4. Rockstars.
5. Salsa dancing.
6. Dimples.
7. George Clooney.
8. George Clooney.
9. George Clooney.
10. George Clooney.


Things that are NOT sexy:
1. Male belly dancers:

A short bone to pick...

I have a bone to pick. With formal shorts. For those of you who aren't familiar with this horrific trend, here's a picture that I like to call "When Formal Shorts Attack":


I don't think I need to explain why this outfit is hellacious. As my girls on GoFugYourself.com so graciously pointed out, "...the fact that if you're out on the town wearing a sleeveless top and shorts so short that a Nair commercial could break out at any moment, you might not need the scarf. Just a theory."

But let me delve deeper into why I cannot embrace formal shorts into my wardrobe - the same wardrobe that contains cowboy boots (though not UGGs), and several pairs of $200 jeans. (admittedly it also contains one pair that I bought from the back of a green van outside Bloomingales - but that's neither here nor there)

Only two types of people can pull off formal shorts and, for the record, NEITHER KIND is a frequent rider of the NYC transit system (God help us all):

1. Ring bearers at a wedding. Little formal shorts with a little formal tuxedo jacket on a 5 year old - CUTE. Same little formal shorts (and I do mean same - pretty sure they're the same size) on 200 pound Puerto Rican women who insist on squeezing in next to you on the train - NOT CUTE.

2. Supermodels. They can wear a potato sack tied on with a polish sausage belt and make it look good. I hate them.

So if you're not a ring bearer or a supermodel, leave the formal shorts in the juniors' department. Just walk away. Walk away and no one gets hurt.

Hold me closer, chubby dancer.

I don't condone making fun of people...well, at least not outloud. So I won't. (at least not outloud) But I will give this little guy props for gettin' his chubby, little groove on.

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/videos/fatkiddance.html