The 2017 Grammys, a smorgasbord of phoniness & disappointment.

Why do I set myself up for disappointment? It’s like I’m in college again and trying to date the Greek god, it’s just never going to work out, at least not in the way I think it might.

I was so excited for the damn Grammys, and now I have no idea why.

Louder, Hetfield, we can’t hear you. Via GIPHY.

I suppose I wanted to see Lady Gaga outcool Metallica, an all-time least favorite band of mine. My hatred for Metallica harks back to the year that they headlined the 1996 Lollapolooza when I was basking in my Riot Grrl phase. I traipsed through Metallica’s crowd wearing a dirty white slip and a crown of thorns while proudly displaying the word “slut” written on my arm a la Courtney Love. The Metallica crowd didn’t get my shtick and it was one of the few times I was really picked on. Then Metallica was escorted to the stage via a helicopter and I threw up my party accouterments.

Oh, thank God cameras were barely used during my misspent youth.

But hey, Lady Gaga & Metallica is something that I can get behind. Unfortunately, the sound technicians couldn’t and James Hetfield’s microphone wasn’t on. It was embarrassing to watch him have to switch mics mid-song, but it was worth it to spy his rock star temper tantrum afterwards.

It was magnificently…dull. Via Giphy.

But who cares? Let’s get to the icky part- the Beyoncé verse Adele battle of phoniness.

First, before the Beyhive swarms into my modest home and steals all my gin, Beyoncé should have won Album of the Year, without a doubt. Lemonade is a religion, while 25 is a Church of Scientology in Arkansas. And, Adele bores me more than Beyoncé’s performance annoyed me, so there’s that.

Part of me gets it, that I’m not really supposed to get it. First, I’m old as dirt and am clearly out of touch. But, I do possess a freakishly high bullshit/phony meter and during Beyoncé’s performance, it was higher than Mike Posner. I mean, who knew being preggers was so profound? Two married billionaires that already have one child had sex and that act resulted in two living things in Beyoncé’s belly. How… bourgeoisie. I’ve squeezed 3 brats out and I caressed my belly less throughout those 27 months than Queen B did in her way-too-long Grammy performance.

Beyoncé’s performance was certainly better than most, but for it to lauded as epic and groundbreaking just seems silly. The spoken word element, freshly torn from the sticky pages of a 14-year old’s discarded journal were funny, but I do not think that was the intention. But, I am an equal opportunity hater because my Holden Caulfield-inspired phony meter was at an all-time high (again, Posner) with Adele.

Can we start again? No, please, no. GIPHY.

Adele, you won. Take the award, thank a bunch of people we don’t know, make a thinly-veiled political statement and leave. Oh and while you’re performing, try to sing the flipping song without swearing on national television and having to start all over again. That’s what you get paid millions of dollars to do. It was so sad to watch the crowd applaud her mediocre tribute to George Michael with tears in their eyes, not tears for George Michael’s recent passing, but because they felt badly that Adele felt badly that she messed up. Again.

What’s worse than a sore loser? A bad winner. GIPHY.

Oy vey.

I did enjoy a lot of the Grammys. The Weeknd was excellent, Chance the Rapper was awesome, and even Katy Perry was better than usual and I absolutely loved her blonde hair. Ed Sheeran always entertains and is utterly charming.Most importantly, Bruno Mars, Morris Day & The Time did Prince right. It was a tribute worthy of pop star royalty.

Blackbear, Mike Posner. Posner’s seen better days. Via GIPHY.

And, let’s give it up to Mike Posner who appears to be 8 days away from death or rehab. Wow, didn’t this guy just look like the former Duke University frat boy that he is? It looks like he took a lot more than a pill in Ibiza, he looks like he emptied the whole pharmacy.

Damn, this is Mike Posner a few years ago. Wowza. Via Huffington Post.

Till next year.

The Super Bowl, Winona Ryder & other Shakesperean Stuff

Not better than Prince’s 2007 show, but close.

I’ve been thinking a lot about football this week. I know, almost as shocking as Jay Z and Beyoncé’s marriage lasting this long. I mean, what if I’ve been wrong all along and football is incredibly entertaining, filled with attractive men and stories of triumph and camaraderie? There was something Shakespearean about Super Bowl LI, bursting with a struggle, a reunification, a historical outcome, all expertly performed by grown men in tights.

Super Bowl LI was the most entertaining hour of my life since I watched Solange Knowles rough up Jay Z on repeat for 148 minutes. It was better than Emma Stone’s singing AND dancing in La La Land, and SO much stronger than all the sappy overacting on NBC’s This Is Us. Beware, I can’t stop watching this show and screaming at the television set. I can’t stop…hating it.

Winona Ryder, Patron Saint of Cool Girls

Julie Winegard GIF

This freaking Super Bowl was as life-affirming as Winona Ryder’s recent reemergence into my patron saints of cool women. Her facial tics at the SAG Awards were the stuff that my dreams are made of. I missed Wynona Ryder and I will take every second that she wants to give. I would watch Winona Ryder whittle is that was offered. (Can we get that going, Hollywood?)

I am in awe of the coolness of Winona Ryder. Her excellence in 90’s films and pop-culture folklore is really unrivaled. Films like Heathers, The Age of Innocence and Beetlejuice, to name a few and personal craziness like dating Johnny Depp, Matt Damn and and every cool 90s’ alternative rock star. Then, there’s the unfortunate stealing conviction in 2002, which really sounded like a miscommunication with a bunch of different pills.

The National Anthem

Luke Bryan, what’s not to like?

There’s just so much for a non-sports fan to still love about the Super Bowl, there’s the possible disaster that can be The National Anthem when performed by pilled-out pop stars like Christina Aguilera. Listen, aging genie in the bottle, the next time you forget lyrics, try grunting sexually instead of making them up. As far as I can tell, that’s all 5th Harmony does.

Luke’s Bryan’s National Anthem was great. What’s there to dislike about Luke Bryan? He can sing and he’s known to one of the most generous people in famous land. After dealing with the untimely death of his sister, and then her widow, he raises his sister’s children, and his own. He rocks his cowboy-lite vibe.

ARLINGTON, TX – FEBRUARY 06: Singer Christina Aguilera performs during the Bridgestone Super Bowl XLV Pregame Show at Dallas Cowboys Stadium on February 6, 2011 in Arlington, Texas. (Photo by Christopher Polk/Getty Images) *** Local Caption *** Christina Aguilera

BTW: Where’s Christina been?

That Mickey Mouse Club must have been psychological warfare in the already- dangerous minefield that is childhood stardom. Where is Christina? After her brief surrender to housewife/ hostage of domesticity, she’s dissipated into The Voice, a land of celebrity-leftovers like Gwen Stefani, Blake Shelton and Alicia Keyes. C’mon, Christina, we want you back and bring your new Rhode-Island boyfriend and your chaps with you.

Thinking of the Mickey Mouse Club…

The year was 2001, folks. The place: Super Bowl

Agh, let’s all go back to the innocent days, the days when Britney Spears and her home-school lover Justin Timberlake performed with Aerosmith, NSYNC and Nelly in what was certainly one of the most awesomely delicious episodes in Britney Spears’ robust body of work and in half-time performances.

Thanks Lady Gaga, I needed that.

I do declare that, in my opinion, Lady Gaga’s half-time performance was 2^nd only to Prince’s 2007 turn. And, I can assure you that I’ve seen every one since I could do the Roger Rabbit. I’m sorry Madonna, Bruce Springsteen and Michael Jackson, and well, the Judds. I just loved it, it was like I really needed the pure entertainment of it all. She was a perfect combination of grit, talent, beauty, determination and obvious hard work. Her voice was strong, her moves were perfectly in sync and the performance was electrifying.

Or, maybe it was just a good game. I don’t know, it’s the 1^st one I’ve ever actually watched.

2016: Our Own Upside Down World

2016 began, for me, with a small spell of alcohol poisoning.

And, the year never really lost that distinct aftertaste of vomit, Prosecco and wasted promises. The last 365 days were exhausting. I just finish getting over my last brassy dye job, only to see baby white hairs sprout again. And as a final “screw you,” I now spy them in my eyebrows. As if I didn’t inflict enough damage on my damned brows in the ‘90s, now middle age will finish the job of completely eradicating my brows.

#Blessed makes me #Sick

Can you #killme before I #choke ?

Oh gosh, forgive me, I forgot that I am supposed to feign positivity instead of being honest.

My negativity is grating, and I just don’t care. Can I be forgiven for intellectually knowing that I have it pretty damned good, but internally feeling down and out? Can I eliminate myself from the hashtag blessed bullshit that permeates every adult conversation I’m forced to endure? Yeah, I get it, I could have it so much worse, but instead of respecting that, I’m going to complain about everything. I am nothing if not consistent. Well that, and a bummer.

Pain is relative. We can’t all compare our own pain against those with more pain. Pain is pain, and to engage in insipid conversations about how much worse life could be doesn’t actually make anyone feel better, not for any longer than that talk lasts.

2016’s Little Pockets of Love

“Stranger Things” dominates 2106.

There were rainbows of coolness that sprang from the mushrooms of shit, little pockets of love like Winona Ryder’s cool-girl reemergence in “Stranger Things,” and Netflix’s newer installment of anxiety-inducing terror, “The OA”. And, The Lumineers’ “Cleopatra” is just about as good as it gets for music to my ears.

Jaon’s Isbell’s Twitter presence is one of the better things in life.

I was transfixed for every second of FX’s “The People vs. OJ Simpson” and transported to my idealistic youth and my horror at the OJ trial outcome. I went to see Jason Isbell at the College Street Music Hall in Connecticut, and I remembered that life is beautiful and talent like his is an amazing thing.

If only I knew as much about geography as I do about Scientology.

A&E’s new hit docuseries “Leah Remini: Scientology and the Aftermath” is perfect for my Scientology obsession. This show gives Leah Remini the role of a lifetime and shows that Scientology is scarier than “Stranger Things” upside down world.

Awash in Melancholy

“April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land” T.S. Elliot’s The Waste Land

But, it’s not all Pop Tarts & Quaaludes here, peeps.

In April, Prince died at the age of 57. To make Prince’s death even worse, he died from an accidental drug overdose and it was like a final blow- not because I think less of Prince because he used drugs but because I thought he was one of my idols that didn’t. The thought of Prince, alone and dead in an elevator at Paisley Park isn’t how I wanted him to go.I’d much prefer to think of him dying in his sleep surrounded by a harem of women, blanketed in purple sheets of the highest thread count.

But 2016 didn’t care about that kind of stuff. We lost Prince, Barb, David Bowie, Leonard Cohen, George Michael, Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds,to name a few.

You lose some.

You keep some.

But, let’s not get too down, right?

We lose Carrie Fisher, an actress from an acting dynasty, a sharp-witted writer, a paramour of rock stars and an all-around extraordinary person. She was chock-full of demons, honesty and zingers. But, we get to keep Lena Dunham, a woman from an influential family, fully equipped with a pricey education and a rock star beau, a ridiculous lack of humor and a book that is actually unreadable.

Making fun of Lena Dunham has become easier than ridiculing the Kardashians, so in 2017, my resolution is to stop. Not because I am being kind, but because she’s just so boring.

My Celebrity-Stalking Side Gig is Booming

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Between furrowing my brow and applying coconut oil all over my face, I found time to snap pictures with some of my favorite celebrities.

To celebrate the 4th of July, I did what any good American might: I planted my whole family on a hot beach to watch Tom Hiddelston & Taylor Swift fawn all over each other. My sunburn had barely healed before I I met lil’ Rhody’s favorite alternative rock goddess, Tanya Donelly. Not to be outdone, I capped off the year with a New York City encounter with one of America’s original, smart and cool gals, the awesome Sandra Bernhard.

The Kardashian Curse Spreads

Kim Kardashian’s unattractive cry gets real. Image by How Should I Sass You

For another year, I want to thank the Kardashians for all the entertainment. The ne’er-do-well son in a family filled with losers procreated with Blac Chyna, only to implode in a nasty split that coincided with their own reality show. Kim & Kayne’s marriage lasted another year, but not without a mental breakdown and an awesomely awful burglary in Paris.

So, I’ve been thinking, can we start blaming everything on the Kardashians? That’s my plan.

Book Recommendations

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Beware, I only dig disturbing books.

Well, I do still take time to read books, and here are a few recommendations:

Hunger Makes Me a Hungry Girl: A Memoir by Carrie Browntein

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

A Mother’s Reckoning by Sue Klebold

The Girls: A Novel by Emma Cline

All the Missing Girls by Megan Miranda

My Name Is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout

Happy New Year, y’all!

Shake the holiday horror by ridiculing Kayne West & partying like Ed Sheeran.

Don’t trust that smirk, I’ve been hating the holidays since 1981.

I don’t think this is going to knock anyone off their pleather recliner, but I detest the holidays. Not even a drunken Christmas party can push me into the holiday spirit. Don’t worry, I feign happiness and muddle through with the whole damned thing: I select the most outrageous tree I can find (while inwardly whining about the cost), I hide that creepy Elf on the Shelf and spend gobs of money on a bunch of presents that I know I will defiantly vacuum up in eight months.

Blame it on my bad childhood. Why not? I blame everything else on it.

So, this holiday season, I outwardly smile and squeeze into last year’s ugly holiday sweater while guzzling enough alcohol to think that Elf on the Shelf is edible. I bought myself an expensive party dress for a party that I’ve not received an invitation, and I daydream that my obsession with the Church of Scientology will someday materialize into me joining the cult and boycotting Christmas.

Ho-Ho-Ho!

But hey, there’s always important stuff to take my mind off my holiday blues.

Kayne West is a Joke without a Punchline

Kayne, this is how you do a mental breakdown correctly.

Even Kayne’s breakdown is boring. Can’t this guy use Britney Spears, Savior of Mental Breakdowns, as a guide? She did institutional-level madness right in 2007, she used props like an umbrella and an electric razor. Kayne’s got a porn star wife and two kids with silly names.

What is Kayne going mental over? That he sold his soul for Ray J’s gal or that he’s a complicated artist with no real art? Kayne is such an amateur, in the fashion world, his love life and with his own mental undoing.

Looks like love, but it smells like money.

I want to laugh at Kayne Wests’s public meltdown, but he’s not even cool enough to be funny.The man is a joke and his talent is slipping away as quickly as his marriage is dying. I don’t even know where to start: his clothing line consists of beige leotards with a passion for camel-toe and his mother died from complications of budget liposuction.

Royalty, rock stars and redheads.

How do you party like a royal? Ed Sheeran’s face just got more interesting.

How do I miss these party invitations?

I hope that Ed Sheeran was very numb on the night that Princess Beatrice sliced his pale cheek while jokingly attempting to knight one-hit wonder & “You’re Beautiful” crooner, James Blunt.

Yes, I’ve got that right. In a very unfortunate (or kick-ass) party, Princess Beatrice, daughter of toe-suckling Royal bad girl Fergie, sliced poor Ed Sheeran’s face with a sword while attempting to knight James Blunt.

I can’t believe the bloody Brits are acting out like this, when it’s the good ol’ USA that just got Trumped.

Angelina’s & Brad’s Divorce: Bleaker than ‘Allied’

Angelina appears as pissed off as she has since, well, since she was born. What did this Midwestern boy do to cause such vitriol? This divorce is looking worse than the box-office returns of every non-animated movie Angelina has ever made, produced or even breathed on.

Make no mistake, Brad Pitt is the clear winner here. Angelina looks petty for taking their divorce so public when she’s always asked for privacy involving her army of brats, and he frees himself from Angelina’s soulless clutches. In the words of a now-deceased friend, she’s day-old donuts and he’s Brad freaking Pitt.

The Weeknd Just Saved 2016’s Pop Music

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Bella Hadid & The Weeknd: At least it’s not Gigi Hadid?

I have a real thing for The Weeknd and am happy that he released ‘Starboy’ and drugged his way back into 2016 before it quickly became the worst year of pop music on record. Let’s just forgive this Ethiopian King of Bad Boy Pop for dating permanently-scowled ‘Housewives of BH’ spawn Bella Hadid because he’s a pop star and he can.

In the world of celebrity sisters, these Hadids are better than the Kardashians & Jenners. Bella is far cooler than her older sister, Gigi Hadid, whose hosting of the American Music Awards was almost as cringe-worthy as Ciara’s stab at the same gig last year.

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Gigi Hadid- Move over Ciara, we have a worse awards show host.

How did I forget that Milo V. existed?

Milo, I forgive you for ‘This Is Us.’

I never realized how much I missed this vision of male facial hair done right until he strolled onto Gilmore Girls and trotted onto my worst nightmare, ‘This Is Us’. But, it’s okay, Milo, ‘Gilmore Girls’ was excellent and I appreciate how many times you disrobe on ‘This is Us.’

Yes, this is where I lose my audience, right? I’m about to make fun of the perplexingly popular drama starring fallen star Mandy Moore and that hot guy from ‘Heroes.‘

‘This is Us’ is a sucker punch to the lowest common denominator- America’s heart. What a weep fest, for a bunch of unlikable characters.Let’s throw in an obese woman, a dying long-lost father, a celebrity with low self-esteem AND a lying mother. Wow, did the writers secretly have a seat at my Thanksgiving table?

And, Mandy Moore’s acting is as bad as her portrayal of Ryan Adam’s grungy wife.

—

Well, happy holidays to you all, I am going to start on the Best & Worst of 2016 soon. Something tells me the bad may outweigh the good!

Just don’t get me any freaking Christmas gifts because I didn’t get you any.

Brad & Angelina’s Marriage Crumbles More than the Box Office Results of ‘By the Sea.’

This will get uglier than Johnny Depp & Amber Heard’s dicorce. Trust me.

Oh gosh, we were really rooting for these two self-important assholes, weren’t we?

Well, of course I wasn’t, but I’m a cynical realist, or so my therapist claims. No, I wasn’t THAT surprised by the smack heard around the world: Angie’s heavy lips smacking the stamp that sealed the bitter divorce papers sent to Brad Pitt.

What went wrong with Hollywood’s most famous reformed bad girl and the silver screen’s good ol’ Midwestern boy with a penchant for celebrity loves? Ah, let’s count the many cracks in this crystal vase of broken homes, possible philandering, sickness, poor movie roles and strangely-named children:

Dude, Brad’s got the good stuff.

Before finding Scientology, a teenage Juliette Lewis picked up Pitt and a nasty drug habit.

Mr. Pitt’s alleged legendary pot smoking habit has been coughed up as reason for strife between these two aging beauties. Really? Brad was famously getting high with Juliette Lewis while Angela was just another celebrity spawn strutting her weird stuff in the corridors of Beverly Hills High School. Brad and Juliette Lewis looked like they slept in a bong chamber for the ’90s while Angelina looked like she slept in a coffin eating the dead souls of all that she touched.

Brad Needs a New Starlet

Brad’s lust for starlets goes back to 1989 with Christina Applegate. Those cheekbones, those cheekbones.

Brad loves a starlet like Angelina loves a winged-black eyeliner look: Christina Applegate, Robin Givens, Juliette Lewis, Gwyneth “freaking” Paltrow, and first-wife Jennifer Aniston round out Brad’s condensed list of loves. Brad goes big and as Angelina’s star dwindles with her health, Brad may be looking for some fresh flesh of the French persuasion. Marion Cotillard, anyone?

I doubt that Brad and Marion are getting it one because at 41, Marion is too old for what Pitt is looking for. Marion, Angie and Bad all do have one thing in common: None have made a movie I want to see in years.

Marriage isn’t all trips to Cabo, cargo pants and toned abs?

Leave Jen Aniston Alone! She has products to endorse!

People, can’t you see that Jen Aniston is too busy to get dragged into this madness again?

She is 47 years old and she’s been pregnant for the last 14 years! This woman is so busy being knocked up that she can’t even act anymore, she can just endorse water, hair products and anything else that brings in a paycheck because that one million bucks per “Friends” episode money is drying up quicker than Angelina Jolie’s movie career.

Brad Pitt Finds His True Soul Mate: Himself

In the war of Brad and Angie, I’m going to have to go with Brad Pitt, he’s just got a whiff of coolness that Angie lacks. But, Braddy boy has an Anthony Weiner-sized identity crisis. Brad spent a lifetime becoming a doppelganger of whomever he’s dating. He was a chic minimalist with Gwyneth Paltrow donning matching haircuts and highlights. He found cargo pants, yoga and Coldplay with Jennifer Aniston and he embraced humanitarian issues and dad jeans with Jolie.

Brad, find yourself in a bottle of George Clooney’s tequila and an ounce of the best weed you can get from Andy Cohen.

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The couple that beautifies together, beaks up in a spectacular fashion.

Summertime Stickiness: ‘Suicide Squad’Style

Life’s so sticky here in Rhode Island that even a surprise beach performance by Lenny Kravitz didn’t cool things off for long.

When even the beach breeze stings with heat, the only relief is the movie theater and the coolness that is Beck’s new song, It’s Like, Wow.

The breakup will be magnificent.

I’m so hot & bothered by life’s ridiculousness, such as Gwen Stefani’s divorce tour and as-created-on-TV relationship with Blake Shelton that I stole a few moments of salvation watching Cara Delevigne’s eyebrows emote during Suicide Squad.

I enjoyed Suicide Squad, but who wants to read about that? If you even glance at this blog, it’s certainly not for the feel-goodness of it all, now is it? So here goes, my most scathing review of a movie that I kind of enjoyed.

Alcohol served at movie theaters? A win for humanity.

First things first: My local theater now serves booze!

Much to my glee, and most likely due to my church-going ways, my theater now serves booze. How marvelous! Instead of paying $6 for a diet coke, slab on a few more bucks and I’ve got something special.

Like the good rebel-geek that I am, I dutifully ordered a potent alcoholic beverage and reported to the theater with a drink, a pad and a pen.

Through a haze of air conditioning and gin, this is what I thought of Suicide Squad:

Will Smith as a bad guy is about as believable as me going straight.

Will Smith’s latest roles are becoming as boring as my alcoho references, right? Will Smith was good, I’m just sick of seeing him playing basically the same character over and over again.Mr. Hollywood agent, get Smith a glossy television series, the time has come and he will nail it.

2.Jared Leto is no Heath Ledger and this ain’t Shakespeare in the park.

Jared, 30 Seconds of Mars is bad enough. You’re on thin ice as the hottest human of all time.Credit: Rich Allan/WENN.com

Why all the hoopla over Leto’s method acting for this small and weak portrayal of the Joker? Leto’s Joker is effeminate and bony, after a few more of these theater-mixed gin & tonics, I could have put a good fight with this Joker.

It just didn’t hint at the menace that has been chatted about for an eternity regarding Leto’s on-set antics. The stories of Leto sending opened condoms, dead pigs and live rats to his co-stars are as overblown as his performance.

3.Joel Kinnaman, fresh from impersonating Eminem in every role he’s ever been in, plays a military man with an accent that gets lost somewhere along the middle of the movie.

Kinnaman got “Skwad” tattooed on his bulging bicep to celebrate this movie. What tattoo did he get to commemorate his role in RoboCop? “Bomb?”

Joel’s still infuriated that it took 26 episodes to solve Rosie Larsen’s murder in “The Killing.” Image credit: Max Resdefault

4. Watching Cara Delevigne act looks a lot like me trying to solve a simple algebra problem: We’re both trying incredibly hard, but in the end, it’s never right.

Poor Cara Delevigne, the model that really wants to be an actor, the troubled girl from a famous family, ripe with drug problems and eyebrows that make mine want to shrivel up and die? Yes, that ONE. She plays Enchantress and she’s really…fine.

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Cara, don’t tell anyone, but I really just like you because I dig a troubled girl.

5. Margot Robbie is a revelation as Harley Quinn.

Robbie oozes intelligence, humor, sexiness, innocence and malice in the role of psychiatrist turned psychopath. She makes the movie and watching her was watching a star being born.

Margot Robbie, I love you.

Here’s to a Harley Quinn movie, give Ben Affleck a few more years to dry out.

P.S Watch Stranger Things on Netflix, now.

Crashing the Party of the Year: Taylor Swift’s 4th of July Shindig

I just crashed the party of the year, and it almost felt better than Taylor Swift’s arse looks.

I’m as schooled in the art of celebrity stalking as I am with partying. Just ask every single one of my ex boyfriends: I am a psycho stalker. And, what better opportunity do I have to shine than T. Swizzle’s legendary Rhode Island Fourth of July extravaganza? Mix lil’ Rhody with a dose of celebrity culture and add on some of that stalker stuff and I am happier than Tom Hiddleston’s agent!

I sacrificed my health for this stalker mission. I mean, have you seen me? I’m paler than Tom Hiddleston’s British inner thigh. I planted myself, my husband and children on a beach for eight hours to possibly spy Taylor Swift. I should have drunk a bottle of SPF 120 to make it through the day.

Just when I thought this skin damage was for naught, out descended the squad. Yes, Taylor Swift and her bevy of beautiful people opened the gates of her $17 million Watch Hill mansion and swam in the Atlantic Ocean right next to me and my chafed thighs. Their appearance was accomplished in a dizzying whirl of speed and exhilaration; out they ran, in sync with their shared loveliness, tautness and fondness for Solo cups. (Stars, they really are JUST like us!)

The sexual spark between Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston was hotter than Gigi Hadid’s Prada shades. Soon after Taylor and Tom splashed into the water, she hopped onto his back with a mischievous look of love. They looked perfect together and I’m not even going to question why Tom Hiddleston wore a shirt into the water, let’s peg that to British modesty.

And it was over as quickly as Taylor’s love for what’s-his-name, Calvin Harris. After a few photos, giggles and shared hugs, the squad ascended up the stairs and into the heaven that must be Taylor’s life. I saw Blake Lively’s burgeoning belly and Ruby Rose’s many tattoos. Taylor’s brother Austin and I shared a glance and I wondered what his future holds, will being lost in Taylor’s shadow wreak havoc on this handsome man, or will he find his own fame? Austin, may I suggest that you marry Selena Gomez? Somebody has to get her away from any kind of microphone.

Taylor2 — Taylor Swift’s brother Austin. The picture is grainy, but the abs are amazing. Believe me.

As the crowd dissipated, I saw Selena. She didn’t participate in the oceanic frolic but she did watch from afar. She stood at the top of the stairs, holding a large hat, while looking pensive. I could sense her Bieber love-sickness from below. Poor Selena, don’t pout, there’s always Austin Swift.

Back at the ocean, we revelers were left with the type of feeling you get after paying for Taylor Swift tickets, “did that really just happen, did I really just do that?” Well, it did and I have the TMZ photo to prove it. In the madness of the moment, I almost forgot that I actually had children at the beach, but voila, here is evidence. That little boy staring straight ahead, the only person within a mile nonplussed by the hysteria is Holden, my son.

Stalk on, baby.

Billboard Music Awards: Dumber than Ludacris & Ciara

I must watch every single award show. It’s what I do, well that and over-imbibe at open bar events. I’m pretty damned accomplished at both. I’m the bully of awards shows and a mess at an open bar. We all have our skills, everyone other than Filth Harmony.

Britney: There’s a little Sylvia Plath in there.

Britney Spears: You know what quality I really dig in a pop star? A few stints in a mental institution and/or rehab. A psychiatric hospital stay is a goal of mine that I get closer to attaining every year (last Thursday was a step in the right direction). I’ve loved Britney since the Mickey Mouse Days, but I’ve never loved her more than when she shaved her head and got angry.

Britney Spears didn’t disappoint, she really stole the show. She looked flawless while lip synching the oldies and goodies in her sexy robotic way. Britney’s dancing skills have stiffened since her pop music domination years. After six bourbon and gingers last Thursday, I shook my arse with more electricity than Britney.

Fifth Harmony makes me want to soak myself in bleach.

Fifth Harmony:

I know you’re always on the night shift
But I can’t stand these nights alone
And I don’t need no explanation
‘Cause baby, you’re the boss at home

Those are actual lyrics from Fifth Harmony‘s “Work From Home” disgusting excuse for a song. This “song” was a string of ridiculously insipid statements that a woman would say to her man while he is at work and she’s at home perfecting her selfie pout. I have no idea who Fifth Harmony is, but they are as bad as bad gets. If Britney Spears is the abs of pop music anatomy, Fifth Harmony is the ingrown toenail pus.

Pink-Acrobatics, fire, pink faux hawk…yawn.

Pink:If Pink performs and she doesn’t fly into the air, did the performance really happen? It’s impressive, but we’ve seen it so many times. What’s more boring? Pink’s whole identity of being a rebel/outsider in the pop music world or her high-flying acrobats. Again, when compared to Filth Harmony, she’s a genius, but please, something new.

Nick Jonas, hot since 12.

Nick Jonas, Tove Lo & Demi Lovato: I began loving Nick Jonas over a decade ago. He was 14 and I was 28. It was wrong, but I knew that it would turn out right. Boy, was I right. As for Demi, as I mentioned earlier, my fondness for a woman who has frequented rehab makes Demi a favorite of mine. I don’t care that her songs are stupid, that woman can sing and her social media rants are excellent.

This breakup is going to rock harder than their music.

Blake Shelton & Gwen Stefani: Gwen and Blake’s chemistry is as hot as a game of seven minutes in heaven with your first cousins. This was so uncomfortable to watch that I’m still twitching.Dare I admit: Gavin Rossdale never looked so cool.

Now that Gwen is hawking country music, is she contractually obligated to wear less makeup? Was she advised that red lipstick is strictly for mediocre pop music with a ska flare?

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Ariana’s stumble is much more entertaining than her performance.

Ariana Grande: Yup, she can sing, she sports the best ponytail since Madonna’s Blonde Ambition look, she’s perfected the eyeliner/orange spray tan beauty of Jersey Shore, but she’s got nothing else to give me. So, enjoy her fall, it’s much more entertaining than her performance.

Madonna & Stevie Wonder try.

Madonna delivered. Madonna’s tribute to Prince was moving and got even better with Stevie Wonder. Madonna’s voice is weak and always has been, but her strength is performances like this, to make a statement, to provoke feeling. Yes, I would have preferred The Weeknd, but this was a solid try and I like to think that Prince would have smirked throughout the whole thing.

Prince’s Death & Gynecology: A Vacation Day Of Horror

Nothing kills a vacation day like the death of your childhood idol quickly followed by a Pap smear.

I took a day off today to relax. But because I rarely plan anything other than partying and going to rock shows, I forgot that I’d also scheduled my annual OB GYN appointment in the afternoon. Then Prince died. What a wretched waste of a perfectly good vacation day.

A few facts about me:

I loathe going to the doctors. I was FOUR years overdue for this annual appointment, the possibility of having to give blood outweighs any reasoning and I neglect physicals, podiatrists and anyone with a white coat.
I love music like most people love their animals.

Prince was one of those loves for me. I went to see him in concert as an adolescent and it was a life-altering experience. I was an awkward Catholic kid covered with freckles and dysfunction in a rural Massachusetts town, I had to find my own escapes and Prince delivered on that evening. I learned about sex from watching “Purple Rain.” I watched the movie so many times that I can still recite the whole damned thing. I know because I’m doing it right now.

These days hit me hard. Maybe it’s the taste of my own mortality, or perhaps it’s that I am so in love with myself at that age. I love that little me more than I can communicate. I see the promise, the intellect, the creativity and I can smell the looming derailment. It’s tricky terrain in there, like the wart on my foot that I just can’t stop digging at, I want to get to the root and pull it out to marvel at its bloody splendor.

That’s what nostalgia really is, it’s not truly about the person or thing that we loved so much, it’s more about missing ourselves at that age. It’s been a LONG time since I’ve purchased new Prince music, but it doesn’t matter, I love him for who he was and more importantly, who I was when he touched me.

Here’s to Prince, the pop icon that always stayed cool. While poor Madonna engages in a tacky custody battle for the world to see, and Cyndi Lauper disappears into “Kinky Boots” land, Prince never lost a shred of authenticity. Rest in peace, Prince.

And make your annual OB GYN appointment- the stirrups are less uncomfortable than I remember.

The Grammys: Mediocre as Meghan Trainor’s Talent

Meghan Trainor joins other Best New Artist Grammy Winners Milli Vanilla & Paula Cole

I love pop music a smidgen more than I love myself so one would think that the recent Grammys would be tastier than a gin and tonic for me, right? Instead, I walked away feeling a lot like George Clooney’s career- deflated and defeated. When it was good (Kendrick Lamar, The Weeknd, TayTay) it was so damned good, and when it was bad (um, Pitbull), it was even better.

The Biebs. I can forgive a lot, but not this jacket.

First, let’s get all the mean stuff out of the way:

Which was more fake? Ariana Grande’s eyelashes or Ellie Goulding’s lips?
When did Tyrese Gibson get out of filming Fast and Furious 19 to learn how to sing?
Justin Bieber’s dancing hurt me more than his leopard print Member’s Only jacket. Biebs, I just started loving you, don’t make me stop.
For those few that don’t hate me for criticizing Beyoncé, now you will loathe me: Adele was boring and no, I can’t blame it all on the sound guy. Boring is boring.

Unlike Meghan Trainor’s style, there was some coolness.

Much to my teenager’s chagrin, I dig Kendrick Lamar.Am I too old and square to dig Kendrick? Absolutely, but his performance was electrifying.

The Weeknd was excellent and Taylor Swift’s voice gets stronger with every performance. But really, isn’t Taylor Swift more entertaining to watch than to listen to? She never misses a beat. Her response to the world’s 2^nd biggest jackass* Kayne West’s proclamation that he “made that bitch famous” was pure magic. The girl is oozing class and charm from her tight pores. Take look:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oxjk-gig7pY

Kim Kardashian could have done better than Kayne West, and that is saying something.

Kayne West, how could I possibly dislike him more? He’s inflicted so much pain on me, but his ‘SNL’ performance was the worst of all, it was atrocious. West’s ‘SNL’ performance made Ashlee Simspon’s look like a work of art.

kanye-west-shirt-zoom-6072251e-09d2-412c-9077-c7d21a64a5ad

Nice shirt, jackass.

Kayne, you are to the art and fashion world what I am to the blogging world. You are silly and insignificant. Your stardom is dimming like the light behind your wife’s eyes. Kayne actually forces me to feel sympathy for the Kardashians.

Kayne closed out his ‘SNL’ debacle by sporting a t-shirt with his dead mother on the front, and Kim Kardashian’s dead father, famed-OJ Simpson pal Robert Kardashian on the back. For those that do not know, Kayne’s mother, Dr. Donda West, died from a liposuction surgery that she had been advised against getting. She was 58. You can’t make this stuff up.

James Bay, I’m Onto You

James Bay- the new Johnny Depp?

But wait a minute, who is this James Bay? I love an English rocker that can rock the pale Amish hipster look. Even better, he can sing.Could this be my new thing?

Yes. indeed. Thank you James Bay, thank you.

Johnny Depp: Please Stop

Just as the Grammys were coming to a quiet close, out comes David Grohl to announce a Lemmy Motorhead tribute performance by the Hollywood Vampires. Nice, this could be good!

But, no! What happened to Johnny Depp? His bloated pirate look is just so wrong.Please Johnny, we want to love you again. Leave your young starlet of a wife, remove some of your uglier tattoos and get back to yourself. You’re having a mid-life crisis, and I’m worried. Get better. More “Black Mass,” less “Pirates of the Doomed & Gloomed”.

Getty Images

*Martin Shkreli is actually the #1 biggest jackass.

Beyoncé Blasé is an Illness from which I Suffer, The Juice is Rotten & ‘Carol’ Disappoints

Beyoncé Bores me. I said it. Don’t hurt me.

landscape-1454898659-gettyimages-508987280 — Hello, my name is Kathleen and I have Beyonce Blase. Getty Image.

Do I need to hire a bodyguard? Will my children be safe? Is my job secure: I am admitting, with fingers shaking and extreme heartburn: I have Beyoncé Blasé.

It is a condition that inflicts many, but people live in dread of admitting it, even to themselves. The illness is often confused with squareness, racism or simply “not getting it.” The sickness usually strikes after Beyoncé performs in a widely-watched telecast such as Superbowl 50 and for the whole time you’re left wondering, “didn’t I just see her do this?” Yes, you kind of did.

The black onesie, the robotic look of anger mixed with sexiness that ends with a feigned shy smile and a bashful “thanks” to the crowd. Yes, we’ve seen it all before. From her beautiful face to her luscious locks to her exposed derriere. Been there, done that.

The Juice is Rotten

O.J. Simpson is having a true resurgence in pop-culture. I want to be bigger than this, I want to stay away from paying any more attention to this man, but when FX’s American Crime Story is so compelling, how can I?

american-crime-story-the-people-v-oj-simpson — FX’s “American Crime Story” It’s good.

Even worse, my humiliating guilty pleasure, the brain cell popping Housewives of Beverly Hills practically has OJ as a ghost of a recurring character. This season, Faye Resnick and her bee stung face join the cast along with Kathryn Edwards, another supporting member of the OJ Simpson cast of repugnant hanger-ons. These two never-beens are right up there with Kris Jenner and the Kardashian patriarch, OJ lawyer Robert Kardashian in the Wretched People Hall of Fame.

I watched, along with the world, when OJ Simpson was found innocent. I was a sophomore in college, a budding feminist and a sensitive soul/basket case (your call). I called my father, in a fit of anger and tears over the verdict, and I remember my father telling me, “Life’s not fair.”

No, the Sex Scene Can’t Save ‘Carol’

You know what else is not fair? How tedious critics’ darling and Oscar contender Carol felt. Go ahead, critics and movie snobs, tell me I’m wrong, but I wish I’d spent my $11 on Daddy’s Home and I despise Marky Mark Wahlberg. Exquisitely shot with beautiful costumes, the flick is blanketed in beauty. Rooney Mara’s expressive face can tell a story with a blink, but it can’t carry a movie. I stomached the movie in a state of mental exhaustion, but even that can’t explain the lack of chemistry between Cate Blanchett and Mara. Add on an over-acting Kyle Chandler and a sex scene that arrived approximately 22 minutes too late and you’ve got a painful few hours. My friend told me that it was a dud, and I chose to learn that on my own. Please, see Revenant or Room instead.

Life’s Swell Thanks to the Arctic Monkeys & Therapy

I don’t dislike everything. I currently love the Arctic Monkeys, therapy, carrot sticks and beer as much as a person can love anything. My therapist just assured me that my daily need to crunch on carrot sicks at the same time everyday doesn’t really make me insane. He’s also guided me to drink water with every alcoholic beverage I consume, what marvelous advice! Wish I’d thought of that on New Year’s Eve, but there’s always next year! Oh yeah, he also told me that my goal of shocking people when I speak with them is perfectly normal, but that I should DEFINITELY keep coming to therapy.

2015: The Year of the Man Bun, Star Wars, Amy Schumer & Courtney Barnett

2015 was alright, right?

The man bun turned us on, Adele’s voice proved that easy listening may be magnificent, Jennifer Lawrence dazzled, marriages busted up and I continued to stumble across the tight rope of responsible, gainfully employed parent/wife and madwoman with few boundaries.

Pop culture was good to me in 2015; I infuriated all by ridiculing Taylor Swift and her obnoxious squad, I lusted after young men in bad boy bands and I found new loves like Courtney Barnett and Shovels & Rope.

Best Craze- The Man Bun

Celebrities Visit SiriusXM Studios - July 9, 2014

“Game of Thrones” scares me, but this man bun warms my heart. PS- This guy is married to Lisa Bonet (Photo by Andrew Toth/Getty Images)

Is the man bun new or a revival? I vaguely remember, through a haze of 90’s malaise, a Greek God from college who swept his luscious locks up in a haphazard man bun. Oh, those were the days. Now, I creepily engage in a secret game at hipster bars: Rate the Man Bun. I recently spent an evening in Worcester, MA doing just that. While the men talked shop, the women folk gawked over the man buns.

When done right, the man bun is hot. As I possibly suffer from the Wen-inflicted hair loss epidemic of 2015, I latch onto the man bun craze for the sake of my thinning hair. I just know that when Mr. Man Bun liberates his mane from the bun, his follicles smell of sandalwood, sex and youth.

Best New Artist-Halsey

“Raised on Biggie and Nirvana,” Halsey declares on “Americana” and I’m automatically sold on her coolness.Hailing from New Jersey with a slight faux British accent and a bad attitude, I’m pretty sure she’s the next big thing.Her debut album, Badlands, isn’t perfect, but Halsey is only 20 and I expect more jarring noises from her.

The Voice Returns

Taylor Swift- Team Ursula

No, I am not referring to that silly singing show that manufactured the Blake Shelton/Gwen Stefani romance for publicity (are they contractually obligated to produce a child during next year’s sweeps?), I am talking about THE VOICE of Adele.

After a few years off, Adele swooped back in to trample on Taylor Swift’s reign as queen of the rasp. Who else believes that T. Swizzle has a gaggle of scientists working endlessly to clone a shred of Adele’s vocal cords? Taylor wants to get all “The Little Mermaid” on Adele and steal her voice a la Ursula. Adele, do not join the squad, and if you do, keep your DNA close to your body!

Favorite Pastime: Divorce

Divorce landed in lala land like the bomb that was “In the Heart of the Sea.” Gwen and Gavin; Jen and Ben; Halle Berry and Latest Loser; Blake and Miranda and Megan Fox and Brian Austin Green, that one really hurt. Gosh, if these totally self-absorbed lovers can’t survive holy matrimony, the rest of us are as doomed as Johnny Depp’s new marriage and floundering career.

Ben gets Batman dark. Image via TMZ.

About Affleck, have you seen his post-breakup monstrosity of a tattoo? My gosh Ben, did filming “Batman” really get that dark? Was marriage so awful that you marked yourself with a freaking phoenix rising from the ashes? Is your Beverly Hills compound the ashes from which you must rise? Dude, that’s deeper than “Good Will Hunting.”

The Good

Amy Schumer goes there. Getty image.

Amy Schumer– Amy Schumer staggered onto our movie and television screens while making us cringe with laughter. “Trainwreck” was smart, funny and even a little sweet, much like Schumer. “Inside Amy Schumer” is filthy, brutal and bold, also much like Schumer.

Jennifer Lawrence– Celebrity hasn’t spoiled JLaw, she’s still an exhilarating whiff of gin-tainted breath. Her recent 22 minute interview with Andy Cohen included confirmations of making out with Liam Hemsworth for fun, vomiting on Madonna’s porch and smoking from a bong before an Oscar telecast, to name a few tidbits. Every time JLaw opens her pretty mouth, her agent shaves a year off her life.

Best Pop Star-The Weeknd– I dig his darkness, his hair, his humble beginnings as a Canadian raised in poverty by an Ethiopian single mother. He’s now a pop star romancing a Beverly Hills bred supermodel, celebrating a sold-out tour, and oh yeah, he can sing and dance. His upbeat songs conceal lyrics about addiction, violence and depression, but who could tell?

Jon Hamm in “Kimmy Schmidt” True Story- Hamm was Kempler’s HS teacher. Google it.

Best T.V. Show– “The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” Who thought that a show about a woman that emerges from 15 years imprisoned in an underground bunker by a religious nut could be a hilarious comedy? Writer Tina Fey did. On Netflix, the show blends a perfect concoction of hilarity, satire and nostalgia along with strong drops of darkness to make one hell of a watchable show. Ellie Kempler of “The Office” absolutely radiates optimism and determination in her pursuit of happiness in New York City and in her attempt to never be a victim.

As an added bonus, Jon Hamm shows up as the religious zealot that kidnapped Kimmy. It may not sound like it, but the show is laugh-out-loud funny.

Hello Adam Driver.

Most Deserving Mania- Star Wars: The Force Awakens I loved this movie. It was so much fun watching Daisy Ridley become a star while playing Rey in the finest cinematic debut in ages. Everyone else is terrific, but that Daisy Ridley really rocked my world. Adam Driver, currently wasting his talent on “Girls” was quietly powerful as new villain Kylo Ren.

In case you’re one of the 56 Americans that has not seen the movie, I don’t want to write much, but you must see the movie.

Creepiest Moments of 2015- Every “Game of Thrones” episode Oh, the sheer brutality of it all! Why do I watch “Game of Thrones?” I shield my eyes for the whole hour. If I am not protecting myself from the violence, I am bracing my psyche for another rape. Why can’t I stop?! Is Jon Snow that hot?

Really, I have no idea what is going on in GOT, but I do enjoy it. After every episode, I pat myself on the back for getting through it, then I search for my tranquilizers. After a few deep breaths, I google why everyone’s eyes are turning white. Please, someone explain to me why their eyes are turning white.

Best Song- Beck’s “Dreams” I can’t stop loving Beck; it’s a consistent in my life. I have been changing my underwear, applying mascara and loving Beck for a lifetime. Beck’s freshest masterpiece, “Dreams,” is a hodgepodge of pop, folk and rock. Beck’s year began with Kayne West grabbing his Grammy, and I’m positive that Kayne will be given that opportunity after the rest of Beck’s album is released.

And now, for some parting brilliance from Courtney Barnett:

	Amy Simmons on Aunt Claire and the Irish…
	kajee75 on Distractions Soothe the Doom:…
	Kim on Losing My Religion and Birthin…
	Casey Gee on I Caused the Pandemic by Being…
	kajee75 on I Caused the Pandemic by Being…

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Winona Ryder, Patron Saint of Cool Girls

The National Anthem

BTW: Where’s Christina been?

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#Blessed makes me #Sick

2016’s Little Pockets of Love

Awash in Melancholy

My Celebrity-Stalking Side Gig is Booming

The Kardashian Curse Spreads

Book Recommendations

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Kayne West is a Joke without a Punchline

Royalty, rock stars and redheads.

Angelina’s & Brad’s Divorce: Bleaker than ‘Allied’

The Weeknd Just Saved 2016’s Pop Music

How did I forget that Milo V. existed?

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Dude, Brad’s got the good stuff.

Brad Needs a New Starlet

Leave Jen Aniston Alone! She has products to endorse!

Brad Pitt Finds His True Soul Mate: Himself

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Unlike Meghan Trainor’s style, there was some coolness.

Kim Kardashian could have done better than Kayne West, and that is saying something.

James Bay, I’m Onto You

Johnny Depp: Please Stop

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Beyoncé Bores me. I said it. Don’t hurt me.

The Juice is Rotten

No, the Sex Scene Can’t Save ‘Carol’

Life’s Swell Thanks to the Arctic Monkeys & Therapy

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Best Craze- The Man Bun

Best New Artist-Halsey

The Voice Returns

Favorite Pastime: Divorce

The Good

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