Late Breaking News from Perez

http://perezhilton.com/2009-03-31-first-generation-90210-characters-to-appear-less-in-second-season

In the above link, Perez tells us that the new (and slightly budget) 90210 will be changing it's format next season. They want to focus more on the high school characters. I have one thing to say to you CW--YOU ARE BUDGET!!!

Let's all hop on the honesty train here for a minute and recognize that the only thing keeping that show running is the hope that Dylan or Brandon will return and try to win our fair Kelly Taylor back. (It should be noted that I am still very upset with how the first--and the best--90210 ended. Kelly should have been with Brandon and Dylan with Brenda...it was how God intended it)

CW get with it...none of us are watching your show because we want to see a bunch of starving bossy bitches running around complaining about how much money they have. No, we want the starving bitches from 1992!!! Kelly, Brenda, Donna, and that frizzy haired (slightly lesbo) Andrea are the people we care about, however in the words of my brother, the show took a turn for the worse when Andrea started becoming a loose slut.

So, I would appreciate if the CW would recognize that trying to replicate a Gossip Girl on the West Coast is not going to work. The only way to make this show a hit is to fly Jim and Cindy Walsh in from Hong Kong, have Brandon return from whatever mythical land he is in, have Dylan re-gel his hair to look like James Dean, and finally, kill off all the new characters...then and only then will the show be a hit.

I am pretty sure I should be a big Hollywood Producer.

Sincerely,
The true Beverly Hills 90210 Fan!!

Justin and Becca 4-EVA!!

I have am in love with Justin Timberlake--yes I am a 14 year old girl stuck in a 24 year old woman's body. (See previous posts about American Idol and Britney Spears).

Two years ago I was front row for the Justin concert and it changed my life...I will never again see JT on tv without my heart skipping a beat. I'm pretty sure he is the man I am supposed to marry (I hate you Jessica Biel with your rock hard body, beautiful face, and ass made from the Gods!).

Anyways, here is his super hot new video with Ciara. It could be classified as a soft core porn, and I LOVE IT!!! (the link looks like it is a Spanish site...it's not).

http://espanol.video.yahoo.com/watch/4730021/12633915

xoxoxo
Rebecca Timberlake <3!!!!

2 post in one day...HOT DAMN!!

WTF America?!?!?!?!?!

A follow up post....

WTF AMERICA!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Matt G. was in the bottom 2 this week in American Idol while that budget ass Megan Joy Corkey enjoyed the view from the crush velvet blue couches. Do you people know nothing about talent? Do you think that we are just f-ing around every Tuesday night? Or do you people enjoy the entertainment value of some no talent ass clown like Megan (a moment for Office Space)? The man sang Sexual Healing---SEXUAL HEALING!! Sweet mother of all things sacred and holy....after he got done singing I contemplated buying tickets to the American Idol tour, but I just settled for watching re-runs of One Tree Hill (you know the motto of this blog--Don't judge me).

Thank goodness my man was saved, and will be back next week to show all you haters what he is working with...let's please not make the same mistake!

Taubel--OUT!

What's My Life Coming To?

Yes I am a slacker because I have not posted on my ultra popular blog in like 3 weeks. But I swear I have been busy....I have a part-time job (wahoo for some income), I'm planning a big move, and American Idol has been in full swing. However, I think I have hit rock bottom. (Please forgive the stream of conscience below)

As I sit here typing my witty remarks, I am listening to my recent downloads on iTunes. What are these new jams I have crankin on my speakers? Well, they are the new releases from the current season of American Idol. Yes, I have officially taken a turn for Lame-ville, population 1: ME! (And yes, I did just type that sentence).

It seems like lately my schedule is that of a 50 year old, divorced woman...work, home, clean my room, cook a lean cuisine, and watch American Idol (if it is not a Tuesday or Wednesday I am watching Bravo's Real Housewives--wishing that my life was as cool as theirs).

Holy shit, am I turning into my mom? Pause for a refrigerator check...ok I do not have boxed wine in there! Thank you Jesus, there is hope for me yet.

My obsession with American Idol has officially become unhealthy as of 20 minutes ago when I clicked "BUY" next two the new idol contestants names. I bought not one, not two, but three songs--two from youngin Matt Giraud and one from widowed Danny Gokey. Now, you may be saying this isn't a bad thing...you just like chessy reality shows that leave no hope for those who participate in them. And normally I would agree with you, however, I have a serious crush on both of these contestants, and not your regular celebrity crush.

I realized that my crush on these men were bad while watching last night's performances. When Matt took the stage I noticed that my heart skipped a beat and my hands were clinched tightly next to my heart. Once he finished his near perfect rendition of "Sexual Healing," I began clapping wildly and shouting, "BRAVO!" (I mean who the hell says BRAVO?). I then realized I was a bit hot and bothered by his song choice....WTF?!?!?!?! I tried to pretend that I didn't just act like a combination of a 14 year old girl and 80 year old woman (I refer to the aforementioned BRAVO comment), but my father (whom I live with) was there to comment on my behavior. "You alright there?" he said..."Oh yeah, he just gave one hell of a performance...his stage presence and vocals were outstanding." Was I being serious? Did I think that I should be the 5th judge on American Idol (I mean let's be honest who is that Kara chick--she is budget!)

Then my father (MY FATHER) rolled his eyes and laughed at me....this is the man who drinks Natural Lite in his boxers every Sunday while watching NASCAR! I got schooled by a man who thinks watching cars race around in a circle is the epitome of entertainment.

If that wasn't bad enough, Danny Gokey was up to sing. American Idol producers sure know how to pull at heart strings, because they have told us the story of Danny over and over again...widowed weeks before his idol audition, he has climbed to the top of American hearts by his sultry vocals. It is Motown week and Danny has selected "Get Ready," an upbeat tune with some soul. As he hits his last note I am crying...not just a single tear but a plethora of them. I am like that girl at High School graduation that just doesn't want it all to end. As I am sobbing I say to myself, "It's just so wonderful how he has overcome all this...I wish I had a man like that." And instantly I am imagining how Danny and I will meet and fall in love...HOLY HELL I NEED A LIFE!!!!!!! I am sitting in my Father's Florida Room (yes we are that trashy that we have a Florida room!) crying and imaging my white picket fence with Danny Gokey the four-eyed American Idol contestant.

Now, one would think these feelings would subside by the morning, but no, no they haven't. As I was driving home from work I realized tonight was results night on AI...this means that one of my men could be in trouble (I mean I don't think they are because they are amazing singers and talented artist--see what I mean?). As I walk through the door I head straight to my computer and get on iTunes...the mere thought of not hearing them sing has me clicking "BUY" instantly!

This time 2 years ago I was already 4 beers deep and on my way to a night of bad decisions...tonight, I am two diet cokes deep and searching the Internet for message boards about tonight's results show. I am pretty sure that I am 24 years old going on pathetic. But I think that both Danny and Matt would want a gal like that ;)

Gotta go...one hour until the big SHOW. I <3 Danny and Matt!!

It's been a while...

It has been some time since my last post...to all 3 readers, I apologize. It has been a crazy couple of weeks filled with moving plans, part-time jobs, and attending the best concert ever. That's right, I saw the one the only Ms. Britney Spears in concert.

I found out that I was going to attend said concert when I was in the "Arts & Crafts" aisle of Wal-Mart. It was 10pm on a Friday night.

Before I continue I feel like I need to explain why I was in Wal-Mart on a Friday night. Don't worry, I have friends and (as we remember from prior posts) a solid mid-twenties drinking problem. However, there are times where I need to feel better about myself. There are times when I need to be reminded that I am not a complete f* up. And there is no better place then Walle World on a Friday night--where the blue light specials are lower back tats, scrunchies and skanks. Most of the clientele in there is cracked out so badly that they think the doughnut display is a magical wardrobe that will take them to Narniea so they can find Harry Potter and toke up with him and his ginger-headed friend. (I love run-on sentences!)

Ok back on track....I was in the Arts&Crafts aisle looking at stickers. Why I was buying stickers is for another post another day. I got so excited about seeing Brit that I spilled my diet coke on my pants. I tried to do the loud sigh adding, "OH my...diet coke on my pants." I threw my hands in the air dramatically in the hopes that I had proven to those around me that the large wet spot on my crotch was from the diet coke and not from a bathroom accident. **Remember we are in Wal-Mart on Friday...people peeing their pants would not be shocking.

I made my way to the self check-out aisle thanking the Wal-Mart Gods that my diet coke stain had gone unnoticed. Just as I was laying down the 15 packs of Dora the Explorer stickers I hear Rusty behind me (I am not sure of his name, but Rusty seems to be appropriate) laughing and whispering to his family.

Now, Rusty looked as though he was old enough to be frat brothers with Jesus and John McCain. He was sporting a NASCAR t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. He had 3 others with him, which I can only assume were his wife, Misty, and their redneck children. They were all sporting dirty old t-shirts with the sleeves cut off. I wondered if it was a rule in that house, "No sleeves on any shirts." Like when they all get ready to leave the house they have a check list:
1.Everyone smell as if they haven't showered in 2 weeks--Check
2. Misty's fake CVS brand pony tail hair piece--Check
3. No sleeves--Check OK ready to hit up Walle World and raise some hell.

So Rusty and his band of rednecks decide that the thought of me wetting my pants was the best thing that had happened to them since the trailer park started the weekly squirrel hunt. They were laughing, pointing and slapping there knees. (Yes, very stereotypical I know) It was here that I wanted to hop on my high horse and give them what for, but I kept it classy. I waited until I got my bag and was half way out the door before I shouted, "REDNECKS, you wont be laughing next week when I get to see the one and only Britney Spears!" I then bolted to my car, jumped in and locked the doors...

It wasn't until I was in my car that I realized that that was the worst comeback ever. I really thought that me shouting that I was going to the Britney Spears concert would give me some street cred in there--like who cares that it looks like I wet my pants b/c in one week I am going to be surrounded by every teenage girl and gay man in Georgia watching Britney lip sync all of her songs. I was in Wal-Mart for God's sake...now, if I had been going to a Reba concert I might have won that argument. It was then that I realized I had hit an all new low from which I have not recovered from.

***NOTE-Britney's concert was the JAM!!! She is back, and no K-Fed will ever take her down again!

***ANOTHER NOTE-We will have a guest blogger soon...I am told that he has some great ideas so keep checking in!

Maturity is for Losers!

*NOTE-This is a long one. I make no apologies.

Most people would call me a mature adult. I can do my laundry, taxes, and even carry on an intellectual conversation about politics. However, recently I have noticed that, at the most inopportune times, my maturity level is called into question.



Yes, I am 24 and still laugh at sexual jokes or people falling down stairs. Any of you judging me right now are liars! You know there is nothing funnier than when some bossy (shout out to Lee Larson), strutting herself down a busy sidewalk, busts her ass and face plants. I almost wet myself anytime I see someone fall...yes, it makes me feel good...and if I ever face plant, I expect to be laughed at too--it is only natural. So for me there there are 3 things in life that are certain: death, taxes, and people pointing and laughing when you bust your ass.



I just got a part time job as a tutor at the local middle school. (I am sure all 5 of you readers out there are now concerned about the state of our education system.) As a tutor I am supposed to help students achieve academic standards and be, yet another, stern figure head in their life. Essentially, I am supposed to be the essence of maturity and responsibility. And of course the moment I am supposed to be mature and responsible something happens that throws me back to my perverted middle school days.



It is my first week, and therefore, I am observing some of my teachers. I sit in the back of the class and take note of certain students that could benefit from my brain power. Yesterday we learned about congruent triangles. (Please note that it took me 20 minutes to figure out what the hell we were learning because it has been almost 9 years since I took a math class) Out of the corner of my eye I notice one of the students passing, what I thought to be, a note. Here is where most cool teachers would cringe because they realize they have to take up the note and embarrass the little bugger. NOT ME! I was gitty inside. I was thrilled to take up the note and read what the little one's are gossiping about. Would it be a note about how the Johnny, the hot 8th grader, wore that ultra cool shirt from Abrecrombie & Fitch?* Or maybe it would be a detailed description of why all the girls don't like one girl because she wears Pumas and not (insert whatever is cool these days). I know it is pathetic that 7th grade drama would be entertaining to me, but I am pretty sure you all would find some sort of solace in the fact that your life no longer centers around folded notes and whether or not you got the best color traperkeeper.



As I approach the students desk, I see that is not a note but a small balloon. I grab the balloon and head back to my station thinking that I will discuss it with the teacher after class. Naturally, the students start giggling, but I played it cool and made no acknowledgement of this.(2pts for mature behavior) Once I felt like I no longer had their attention I looked to see what was written on the balloon. (2pts for mature behavior--the 12 yr old in me would have looked at it the moment I took it up. That's what I call progress) At first I wasn't sure what it was, but then I realized I was looking at a stick figure; it had a head, arms, legs, and then I noticed it...the stick figure on this balloon was clearly a boy, and if I didn't figure that out on my own the word, "DICK" was written next to the arrow pointing at the 3rd leg on "Stevie" the stick figure.



Here is where most adults would be appalled, disappointed, angry or disgusted. But it was all I could do not to bust out laughing. In my defense, it was some creative work. These students clearly put effort into this drawing. They didn't just whip out some old, run-of-the mill, college ruled paper to create your average stick man. No, they went to the trouble to find a balloon, blow it up just enough, and then draw their version of the David on it. Hell, these kids could be considered a Michelangelo of their time.



I must not have been as coy as I thought because I looked up to see the entire class staring at me. My teacher had a concerned look on his face, and I realized that my face was bright red. To recover my fumble I brilliantly stated, "Ha. Congruent...more like...conshrooment." I then realize that I have inadvertently made a drug joke. So to dig myself deeper I say, "God, I love triangles!"


Thank goodness my teacher realized that I was complete tool and continued with the lesson. At the end of class I was the first 7th grader out the door!



It should be noted that I will no longer make an effort to be a mature adult. Therefore, I welcome any inappropriate jokes, videos, or pictures that would be entertaining to a 7th grader. It is my duty as a tutor to understand my students!



*I have no idea what is cool to 12 year olds. At 12 years old, I was one of the biggest losers because I didn't shop at Abercrombie & Fitch. It was not because I was trying to be alternative or different, but it was because the music was too loud in the store. I couldn't concentrate on whether to buy the paid booty shorts or semi-booty shorts. Yes, I was 65 year old man trapped in a 12 year old girls body. Back to the point, when I was 12 years old that is where all the pretty people shopped so I still associate that with cool.

Pretty Friends

I have great friends. I'd even venture to say that they are the best. However, there is one problem...they are all ridiculously good looking. I am not unfortunate looking, but I do have a little more meat on my bones. I am definitely not that big girl who surrounds herself with other girls who eat their feelings? No, I have decided to be friends with girls who are beautiful, smart, not crazy, and successful. Oh and they manage this perfection while eating double cheeseburgers and drinking Bud-heavys.

Take my friend, we will call her "M." M is beautiful, has a masters in Accounting, huge boobs, likes football, and here comes the zinger...she's freakishly tan year round so she looks ambiguously ethnic. Kind of like the lead singer of the Pussycat Dolls. And the tan is not fake...she is just naturally that tan. Now you may be asking yourself, "Maybe she has some Latino in her family?" No both parents are big time whiteys. So then you may ask, "Well did her mom take a dip in the Latino pool with Hector her gardener?" And to you I say no because, A. They didn't have a gardener and B. The guy who worked at their house was named Jose and he was her mom's personal pillow fluffer. I am doubtful anything happened.

Ok so say you meet M in a bar: successful, beautiful, possibly Latino, football watching girl and then you meet me: unemployed, pudgy, whitey mcwhiterton, VH1 reality TV watching girl....now who would you pick? Yup, I pick M every time.

I have learned to use my friends beauty to my advantage. That's right...I pimp those bossy's out and get free drinks for all of us (thank you brother Eric and his bossy friends for introducing me to the word bossy). This is where other big girls are missing out...you need to split up and make friends with skinny girls. Then pimp them out and get free drinks from the poor bastards that think they actually have a chance in hell of taking M or any other pretty friend home.

Be careful though, some guys have been watching that show, "The Pickup Artist," so they think that they have to talk to the poor lonely friend, therefore showing your friend that he is caring and sensitive. I hate guys who do this...mostly because they come up with some stupid topic that makes me want to punch them in the face. Like one time a guy tried to talk to me about the 1996 Olympics that were in Atlanta. It went something like this, "Oh you are from Georgia...how bout those Olympics a couple years back?" Guys, you may be thinking this is actually a good topic, but no. First off, "a couple years back?" try 13 years ago! Therefore, I was 11 years old in 1996...I thought that the only countries at the Olympics were the mighty US of A, Canada, England, and Mexico (but they played with rocks so they weren't good). I also thought that the Jamaican Bobsleds team was going to be at the Summer Olympics. My only memories of the Olympics were the pictures of me in umbros, soccer t-shirts and braces.

In closing, having pretty friends has its perks. I just wish that one of them could have an unsightly hairy mole...just to even the playing field.