i don’t know why i’m obsessed with ms. aniston’s love life (or apparent lack thereof). i think i just have an inherent problem with anyone who obviously goes out of her way to assure us that “she’s just fine” every chance she gets. that said, here’s my open letter to jennifer aniston. consider it my community service for the month.
dear jen, let me first say that while i made a joke at your expense on my homepage, i think you might be ready to hear what i have to say. you may be rich and skinny but no one’s “just fine” all the time, no matter how many magazines you try to convince otherwise (lindsay and britney, i’m looking in your direction). i bet i’d like you a little more if you dropped the fembot act and admitted that you spent last weekend binging on pizza and ring dings while indulging in a molly ringwald film fest and petting your cat. it would make you real, and i wouldn’t feel so weird for doing it, too (note to self: buy more hot fudge).
My latest client is an organization called The CFO Alliance, which is a very nifty group of accounting and finance executives in eight markets across the country. Yes, those of you who know me are no doubt laughing out loud, as it’s no secret that I can’t add without using my fingers and I’ve never even attempted to balance my bank account, but hey, they didn’t hire me to do math, they hired me to develop a brand strategy, conceive a public relations and marketing plan and come up with some brilliant content for their upcoming online community. Get ready, CFOs! continue reading…
It’s no secret that I’m more than a little obsessed with pop culture. I’m ok with the fact that I can spout off the names of all the Jolie/Pitt babies but I don’t know my kid’s social security number. I don’t mind that I can sing most any pop song recorded from 1974-2000 but I can’t remember what I wore yesterday. However, there are a few things I’d like to purge from my brain, including but not limited to every tune from the “Cocktail” soundtrack, a few tipsy evenings over the years and the entire existence of Jon and Kate Gosselin.
I’m absolutely in love with the show “Eastbound and Down.” HBO sums it up as: “Relief Pitcher Kenny Powers was poised to rule the Big Leagues, but two things got in the way: his fading fastball and his insufferable personality. After a spectacular career flame-out, Kenny came home to Shelby County, NC and picked up a job as a substitute gym teacher (mostly so his brother Dustin would stop threatening to kick him out). He’s spent every moment since then cashing in the last of his dying fame while plotting his inevitable comeback… one beer at a time. ” Naturally, hilarity ensues.
Denny’s just launched their new late-night Rockstar Menu. I got pretty excited when I heard that, mainly because I always wondered what Anthony Kiedis from The Red Hot Chili Peppers would taste like, but much to my chagrin, it’s the traditional diner fare that they’re talking about. The menu, which is available from 10 pm to 5 am, boasts such entrees as “The Sumwich,” created by Sum 41, “Band of Burritos,” from Good Charlotte, “After School Special,” courtesy of Gym Class Heroes and “Unstoppable Breakfast,” from Rascal Flatts. OK, so these bands aren’t exactly number one on my hit parade, but I applaud the concept.
Philly’s a tattoo, town, all right. Just throw a rock (or a can of PBR) and you’ll probably end up bruising someone who’s sporting ink. It’s only fitting, then, that the Independence Seaport Museum is hosting “Skin & Bones: Tattoos in the Life of the American Sailor,” an exciting exhibit that examines the tradition of tattoos among the seafaring Americans who introduced skin art culture to the masses.
I always thought Billy Mays was cool and kitschy; hey, he was so good at his job that he made me believe I couldn’t live without OxyClean (turns out he was right – that stuff really does work). It wasn’t until my eight year old daughter, Stella, became obsessed with him that I really started paying attention, though. Stella called herself “Billy Mays’ Number One Fan,” and I don’t think she was kidding. She referenced him at least 10 times a day, recorded every episode of “Pitchmen” and did a fantastic impression of him. She thought he was handsome and smart. Billy Mays made my little girl happy, and that made me happy, too.
