Category: cuteness kills

So today is the first day of the Catherine Malandrino summer sample sale. Normally, I’d be dancing on table tops in eager anticipation of all the beautiful goodies that I was about to score at 40-60% off retail.

Howsomever, out of respect for my 2010 personal savings goal (oh you know, to have some sorta savings to leave behind for my kids when I kick the bucket), I will not be attending.


For those that know me and how happy those dresses make me, this is a tragedy that borders on epic proportions. READ: had it not been for the long, hard come to Jesus with my accountant AND my therapist, I’d probably put my damn self on suicide watch for the next three days.

*inhales deeply and exhales slowly*

Yes, it’s that serious to me.

Perhaps the only thing helping me through my self-imposed shopping fast is the fantastic news that the third season of The Rachel Zoe Project featuring my favoritest fashion bish of all time, Rachel Zoe kicks off on August 3rd. WOO HOO!

And wait on it… come Fall 2011, that neurotic lunatic will be launching her own fashion line including apparel, accessories and shoes. OMG, I DIE!

*the angels start to sing*

Whew! Okay, frivolous girlie moment is over, back to work.

So today’s the day the FDA decides whether to approve a drug to boost women’s libido a.k.a. the highly anticipated Viagra for females… Interesting.

I see a lot of experts are on the fence because they believe a lowered libido in women is less physical than mental. And therefore, they feel it should be treated with psychotherapy or counseling versus medication. And quietly, they probably have a valid point.

But I’ll tell you what- if God forbid, my libido ever slows down, I don’t want to spend a single, solitary minute talking about wanting to have sex. Nope, not even one. Just gimme the damn pill and let me get back to getting it on.


Seriously, can you imagine how many relationships and marriages would be saved if all a woman had to do was pop a pill and suddenly be turned on by their partner? Man listen…

Just LOOK at the majority of men you know who are in their late 30s, early 40s. How many of them have already noticeably deteriorated from rock hard, 6-pack toting, he-can-get-it-all-day, 20 year-olds into the extra comfy, soft tummy, man boobs and flabby arms cause the most consistent exercises they’re doing are talking ish to their boys and lifting the remote control grown men? Mmm-hmm… Now wait on it, imagine what that’s gonna look like at 65??

*grabs the smelling salts*

And don’t get me wrong, I’m no more mad at the dudes than they are with us women. Change is a part of life. Fuck what Dr. 90210 told ya, having the body of a 21 year-old until the day you die is NOT NATURAL. I refuse to be working out 5 days a week for the rest of my life. No way. And neither should my husband. ‘Cause when I’m 75 years old I d not want the man in my bed to be all hard body, knees, and elbows. Uh-uh, to hell with that. Yours truly is gonna need something nice and easy to cuddle up with on them cold nights.

HOWSOMEVER, if said soft & squishy man expects me to be gonna be playing find-the-penis under his 6 pound belly on a regular basis then a little picker-upper will probably go a long way. The End.

*drops the mic and walks away*

Wow, I really like the dress that Solange has on in this picture. Granted, I’m not so sure about the clunky shoes and absolutely HATE the disheveled afro weave with -gasp- bangs (that I’ll bet you a ka-million dollars she thought completed the whole ethnic ‘look’) but still… I’m really, really feeling this dress.

*stands up and starts the slow hand clap*

Werk it Solo, WERK!!

Just so you know, the reason my admiration is blogworthy is because well… I’m not a fan of homegirl. Oh and even worse her Curious George-esque sense of style.


Don’t get me wrong. I understand that fashion is all about expressing individuality. And that being a true trendsetter means pushing the envelope, staying ahead of the curve and yada,yada, yada…. But whatever with all that. ‘Cause at the end of the day, when I look at Solange and everything about her appearance and behavior scream one thing to me: ‘passive aggressive whoring for attention’.

And guess what? I’d rather not.

Here’s the thing: If deep down inside you want people to watch and obsess over your every move, then be about it. Admit you wanna rule the world and don’t stop until you achieve superstar status. It’s a lot… but I can definitely respect that.

What I cannot respect is the fake-out tomfoolery. You know, like getting knocked up at 17, attempting to justify a messy shotgun marriage by insisting he was your high school sweetheart when your ass were home schooled, randomly going off on journalist/reporters that question your choices, using a common haircut as a publicity stunt, singing 1.5 decent songs out of waaaaay too many and then pretending like you don’t understand why folks are bothering to talk shit.

I’m just saying.

But back to the dress. I’m feeling like I need that article of clothing in my life. So if anyone could point me in the direction of the designer, I’d be much obliged. ‘Preciate ya.

About a week or so ago, the patron saint of skanky chicks Courtney Love announced on Letterman that back in the day she frequently boned Gwen Stephanie’s fine ass husband Gavin Rossendale. Not really newsworthy except for the implication that Gavin was definitely dating Gwen when these alleged liaisons popped off.

*gags violently*

But honestly, aside from this being a mental picture that most of us would’ve easily lived our entire lives without, its not THAT big of a deal… Dirty chicks get around.


But what I do find interesting are C-Love’s more recent comments about the glorious life of her va-jay-jay. Apparently the in a interview for FUSE, the self-proclaimed sex goddess credits her prowess in between the sheet to her jacked up grill. READ: she’s good a good lay because she’s got a face her mamma doesn’t even love.


You know, I’ve often heard my male friends discussing the pros and cons of keeping an ugly chick on stash for this very reason. Back in the day, they called it the paper Bag Theory- its a better lay as long as you don’t look at the face. *don’t judge us*

But I have to say, I didn’t really believe most of them. I always figured women went hard when 1) she liked the person she was having sex with and 2) the dude made it worth the effort. And if they’re so called ‘pretty’ girlfriend was a lazy lay it was because she was, well…. you do the math.

But maybe I was wrong. What do you think? Are “ugly” chicks (and dudes) swinging from chandeliers to distract from their appearance? Cause if so…

*adds homely right below STD-free on the list of qualities I’m looking for in a summer jump-off*

I’m just saying.

Lord haf mercy! Misty, muggy spring days make me sleepy. And I’m thinking the three blueberry/ banana pancakes I just scarfed down prob didn’t do much to help. Sigh.

*discreetly wipes syrup from my chin*

But I gotta tell you, all the itis in theWORLD didn’t stop me from doing a double take at this picture of Jessica Simpson and Gabourey Sidibe taken at the this year’s White House Correspondents Dinner.


What is going on with Jessica Simpson? Like seriously, I get the whole, I ‘d rather be healthy than a dry-heaving bulimic mess bandwagon she’s riding now that her albums are doing double dust. But the day a former pin-up girl stands beside the girl who played Precious and she DOESN’T look like a rail? Oh uh-uh… Somebody in her camp needs to call Celebrity Fit Club and make the magic happen.

No offense.

Granted, it probably doesn’t help that Gabby seems to have lost weight from the time she was doing promotions for the film but still… I saw the Essence cover. Homegirl ain’t lost that damn much.


And I don’t know if it’s the plain Jane shoulder length hair, the awkward way her right arm pinned to her side or perhaps bright yellow boat neck dresses that hit the ugly spot right below the kneecap just aren’t Jessica’s thing… All I’m saying is there’s got to be a better way.

*cough* and it probably starts with sit-up or two *cough*

This is really random but… what in the world happened to Jennifer Lopez?

No, not as in what physically happened to her but more like what happened to the IDEA of Jennifer Lopez? You know the unstoppable Latina flygirl who armed with a black girl booty, bedazzled bandanna headbands, and relentless off-key hit songs rode that 6-train till the doors fell off? I’m just saying…

Jenny from the Block was living proof that with the right no-slip double-sided tape anything was possible.

And now what?

Lat year’s highly-anticipated return album went certified double dust (who in the hot hell thought a song reppin’ $900 Louboutin shoes at the height of a freaking recession was a good look??) and her new movie (which I actually kinda thought had a cute premise) straight belly flopped. Oh and let’s not even talk about how her patented moniker got snatched and recycled by greasy looking self-proclaimed guidette, J.Woww.

You ain’t hear it from me but, Marc Anthony gots to be the devil.

Gotta be honest, when I first saw the headlines about Naomi Campbell’s most recent attack my knee jerk reaction was to yawn. Like, so what? Another day, another backhand. It’s freaking Naomi Campbell for God’s sake. She’s probably just off her meds or some such nonsense.

But thanks to the wonders of insomnia, I find myself with the time and energy to find out who caught a bad one. And I gotta say…I’m kinda disgusted with Na-Na for this.

Apparently she slapped a camera out of the hands of the guy who was filming her for ABC News. The reason? The interviewer confronted her about her involvement with the war crimes trial of former Liberian strongman Charles Taylor.

For those who aren’t familiar with Taylor, he is the former President of Liberia and the mastermind behind a civil war that ultimately led to an ethnic conflict of EPIC portions. In addition to embezzlement, this maniac has been accused of the widespread conscription of children as soldiers, assisting rebel forces in Sierra Leone with weapon sales in exchange for blood diamonds, and ordering acts of atrocities against civilians that have left many thousands dead or mutilated, with unknown numbers of people abducted and tortured.

READ: This negro is the mother f’kin’ SPAWN OF SATAN.

But back to Naomi- It looks like back in the day when C.T was the President of Liberia; him, Naomi and her homegirl Mia Farrow were invited to vacay w Nelson Mandela. While there, it’s alleged that dude gave Naomi some ridiculously huge diamond as a token of his affection. Must be nice, huh?

As luck would have it, because of its unique size this particular stone is one of the few with a history that can be traced directly back to the conflict in Sierra Leone and the illegal slave trade. And in essence, send this psycho to jail for life.

But wait on it… ya favorite diva is refusing to testify. Uh-huh, talking about, Mia is a liar (b/c Mia is testifying that Ms. Campbell bragged about the gift at breakfast the morning after), she never received the diamond and further more she’s not going to speak about it. The End. And oh yeah, BAM. She smacked the camera to the floor.


Now, I really, really want to give Na-Na the benefit of the doubt on this and say that she never received any such gift. Cause it’s one this to be a raging, bi-polar, glamazon bitch who truly believes she’s so fabulous she’s above the law. But it’s another thing to aide and abeit a dude that co-signed on training babies to be killers and chopping folks hands off with machetes. So God forbid, if that skinny heifer is just lying to keep in good graces with that uber rich and powerful clique that she runs with…


So did everyone see the celeb-packed Hope for Haiti Telethon? Really? Must be nice. Unfortunately, thanks to raggedy-ass Time Warner Cable, I didn’t get to see SHIT. Nope, not a thing.

But thank God I have friends. So even when I’m unable to witness the well intended tomfoolery firsthand, my peeps are more than happy to run back and report on it. Thanks Mali!

Exhibit A: Madonna

Let’s not even bother to discuss her increasing inability to even PRETEND like she can sing (although kudos on bringing in the big Black choir to serve as a distraction). I just want to know, What in the unholy-cut up and snatched back-hell happened to her face???

Why does Madonna look like 50 year-old washed out version Tila Tequila?

And my guess is that she just underwent this latest round of surgeries (yes plural), within the last couple of weeks. Why? Forget about smiling, if you watch closely (okay, not even that closely), you’ll see that she’s barely able to move her head from side-to-side. Not to mention, her face is still super shiny and swollen (hence, the missing cheekbones). Poor thang.

While I truly admire her willingness to come out of recovery to perform for the cause, I’m just not quite sure this was the best look for the Material Girl. No offense. Perhaps she should’ve just answered the phones…

Goodness gracious, it sure is hard keeping up with Demi Moore.

Yo, holdup, timeout. Why is Perez Hilton such a BEE-Yatch???

Now I’m the first to admit, I used to LIVE for his blog- the dirt, the dish, and of course, the doodles! But over the past year, Perez and his blog have become more and more about self-promotion and less about providing the scoop. His opinions have gone from snarky and sarcastic to either pure unadulterated ass kissing or hatefulness. Boo. Nobody needs that from a grown ass man who dyes his eyebrows to match his dated faux-hawk.

And apparently the folks at KTLA-Channel 5 in LA feel the same way about all that ra-ra ballroom diva ‘ish. ‘Cause when that fool stormed out of the studio before his scheduled appearance (that he apparently begged them for), their correspondents went IN! Bump the article, cue Drake and watch the video. Shit is BANANAS!!

And err-um, note to Perez: hell hath no fury like an old school broadcaster who’s already sick and tired of all you talentless new fangled media personalities stealing the shine. *DONE*

Get it Sam!

Oh my, and the tomfoolery on this Thursday keeps a coming… Lemme find out Saturday Night live might actually be worth staying up late and watching again!

And the very, very best part? Secretly, a whole lotta white girls out there swear they go this hard. Word.




Yay! Message sent.
Error! Please validate your fields.
Design by