Feh.

TTH

My friend Billy used to have an expression back in his single days when he was out meeting girls and the prospects looked grim.

It went like this:

T-T-H-N-G-H-I-G-U-I-G-H

It's kind of unwieldly, I'll admit, but when spoken in quick succession, it turns into a bit of a rhyme.

What does it stand for?

"Trying too hard. Not gonna happen. I'm giving up. I'm going home."

That always cracked me up, and I incorporated an abbreviated version into my lexicon, namely: TTH, ie. shorthand for "trying too hard."

It's amazing how many people and things just try too hard -- I suppose I have occasionally been guilty myself -- and how handy it is to have a nice catchphrase to sum that up.

Below is a list of TTH:

1. NBC's The Office

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2. Debbie Allen

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3. Details Magazine

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4. The White Party

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5. Lunchables

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6.  M. Night Shamalamadingdong

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7. iPod Shuffle

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8. Hezbollah

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9. Oprah Winfrey Presents...

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10. Saying TTH

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Feh. Cares: Part 3: Feh. Solves

Well after much debate and postulation, and despite several red herrings and countless hours of maddening but adorable gossip-column topiary maze wandering, I have decided to post my guess (an educated, insider info guess mind you) for this rascally Toothy Tile (read Feh. Cares Parts 1-2 below if you do not know what I am talking about.)

Drum roll please....

The Grove parking structure buggering, marble table topped WeHo man2man fingertickling movie star is none other than....

More intense drum roll please....

Cymbal crash.

Feh. Cares: Help Out A Semi-Closeted Celeb Pt.2

Ack! He's back!

The Nutrition Whore

An article in yesterday's LA Times told of how the USDA threw the net wide open for suggestions as to how to update that gradeschool chestnut we've all grown up with, the Food Pyramid...

"...pyramid detractors say it's time for a whole new image.
Strong opinions have poured in supporting circles, trees, dartboards, steering wheels and snow-capped food mountains.
McCormick, the Texas imaging technologist, came up with a muscular heart, which she thinks clearly shows the connection between diet and good health. "Everybody can understand a heart that's healthy and strong, with arms and legs, and hands on its hips, smiling, like a Super Heart," she said.
A slightly more complex concept came from Michael Applebaum of Chicago, a radiologist and lawyer, who suggested a series of totem poles."

Excuse me for a second while I laugh - HA HA - at these ridiculous suggestions. A steering wheel? A TOTEM pole? A HEART WITH HANDS ON ITS HIPS??? HEARTS DON'T HAVE HIPS, STUPIDS.

I would like to propose my own entry, a creative yet obvious choice: the NUTRITION WHORE, pictured below:

Pretty self explanatory and would look GREAT on a fridge magnet, n'est pas?

Feh. Guide to Natural Looking Facial Rejuvenation

1. Jocelyn Wildenstein   Every time I used to see Joc out in New York--and that was semi regularly, as she loved hanging out at gay nightclubs, particularly Beige and the Roxy (!)--it was like Christmas morning. Except instead of presents, you get a hideously disfigured nightmare-inducing face. She was always having fun and smiling and drinking in the gay, though, and goddamn it, I just loved the ol' broad. My friend Scottie Weinstein even made out with her once--so he says. Now looking at this recent photo, I'm not sure what happened --it looks like a Mont Blanc cartridge exploded in her face. Click the thumbnail with caution, away from children.

2. Pete Burns Pete spun himself right round, baby, right round til apparently the centrifugal forces turned his face into an approximation of a bouncy castle. I'm not sure what you're going for here, Petey, but when you're applying MAC lipstick with a paint roller, or foregoing collagen injections for a bicycle pump, you might want to scale back. Just a thought.

3. Joan Rivers once looked like the aging Jewish hag she was. Now her face resembles a poured fiberglass resin sculpture, a mask so frozen and expressionless you half expect Michael Meyers to be hiding behind it with a butcher knife in his hand.

Feh.'s First Annual Erotic Fiction Contest: CANCELLED

                                                   Well I guess the only people who read Feh. are eunuchs and Southern Baptists because I did not receive a SINGLE ENTRY for the First Annual Feh. Erotic Fiction Contest, making it the LAST Annual and, if we're being categorical, the NONETH ANNUAL such contest. You're all a bunch of prig nosed prudes!

However I'm not giving up completely. The entry address is still around at doorfelldown@yahoo.com. Should the desire strike you, our operators will be waiting, rubbing the insides of their thighs together eagerly.

A Shoe So Hot, It'll Get You Shot!

Wazzzzup, all my low income inner city school homies! 50 Seth here, just chillin' like a villain! You should holah at yo momma's to buy you the dopest new shoes on the Athlete's Foot wall: The Adidas_01, on store shelves today. There was an article about them in the Sacramentizzle Bizzle today:

The result of a four-year engineering effort, the Adidas 1 uses technology found until now only in electronic gadgets, not apparel.

A tiny magnet is installed in the outsole under the heel, and a magnetic sensor is positioned above it. As the runner's foot hits the ground, the sensor measures the compression. It relays the information to a 20 MHz microprocessor housed under the arch. The microprocessor compares that information to the optimum cushioning that's already programmed into its electronic innards. It then sends orders to a tiny electric motor connected to a cable. The cable either lengthens or shortens to limit or expand the amount of compression, according to the runner's needs. The cushioning also can be manually adjusted.

SAY WHA?? Lemme hear ya say whoooa

whoaaa

Lemme hear ya say whoa yeaaa

whoa yeaaaa

These Are The Rapists in my Neighborhood...

Hey guess what everyone! You can now find all the sex offenders in your neighborhood as well as look at their mugshots! I plugged in my neighborhood and found out I live among 42 rapists and child molesters...one of whom lives in my building. To see who they are, simply click here.

Or click new search and find out what your neighbors have been up to!

Also, you might want to try therapistfinder.net ... though it may not be quite what you were expecting.

Feh. Cares: Help Out A Semi-Closeted Celeb

Welcome to my latest obsession. It all started with a blind item in Ted Casablanca's irritating yet irresistable E! online gossip column:

Ack! Who could it be!

An office poll landed on either Orlando Bloom or Chris Klein, which were also the results of Defamer's Blind Item Guessing Game.

Who who who is he talking about?!?! And which which which marble table topped restaurant was it at??? Post your guesses below.

Feh. Fashion

Are you 'fierce,' or is 'fierce' something you aspire to be? Is someone you know or someone related to you 'fierce?' Do you write 'fierce' on personality questionnaires, or find yourself answering 'fierce' when asked how you are? Do you imagine your epitaph reading 'Here lies so and so, fierce as always'? If you had to choose between letting your mother be eaten by a hungry swarm of killer whales, or losing what you deem to be your 'innate fierceness,' would you choose your mother's painful, gruesome death?

If you answered 'Yes' to any of the above, then Feh. Fashion is for you! It's THE place for one stop inside fashion knowledge about all the latest trends, tips, tidbits, pieces of advice and trends!

Special Report:

Fall 2005 Men's Shows in Milan

This years Men's Shows in Milan were divatastic. New trends creeping up for the coming fall included pants, suits and jackets in various fabrics. Let's take a closer look!

Alexander McQueen

Alexander McQueen used to be the fat bad boy of British fashion, but the good news is he's lost the fat but not the bad!

• Hot for this fall is head to toe violet parachute pants and fur trimmed flappy jacket accompanied by Pierrot harlequin makeup administered by children from the local school for the blind.
• Bullet points:
• - Violet
• - Parachute
• - Blind children apply clown makeup.

(Click to enlarge)

Comme des Garcons

For those of you who speak French, you already know that Comme des Garcons means 'Comb the Boys'. None of that natty haired bed head for these threads-- the only thing deconstructed on the Comme des Garcons runway is the clothes! Leave it to Ken Watanabe to push the envelope yet again! Next fall expect to see those in the know wearing gas station attendant jackets over butcher paper suits (nod to Project Runway roadkill Daniel?) accompanied by bright orange socks subtly made visible by rolling up pant legs to about calf level.

Bullet points:

• Gas station jacket.
• Over butcher paper suit.
• Roll up pants to show orange socks.

Attention Landdwellers

Hello!

I see you spied my sign and have decided to stop in. Please! Have a seat. Can I interest you in dinner? Everything cook prepares here on The Black Mollusk comes from the sea. Pickled seahorse head? No? Are you sure? They are delicious.

I suppose you are wondering what I, Captain Setho, could possibly be working on here, twenty thousand leagues beneath the Long Beach aquarium. Some call me mad. Some call me fierce! But I call myself a deep see hotelier. Andre Balazs, step aside. Writing the word 'Standard' upside down does not a visionary make. And you may fuck Uma but I'm fucking Tuna!

I present to you...my LIFESWORK.

Luxury... Beneath the sea.

The Poseidon Resort.

Luxuriate, surrounded on all sides by ocean waters, without ever getting pruney.

Gaze at the fishes as room service clears your dishes.

STOP YOUR SNICKERING.

As surely as Burt Benett renders my 3-D vision of Holiday Inn inspired luxe, Poseidon will see the light of day...actually scratch that, it will actually be pretty dark down there.

FOOLS! Soggy fools. I am a misunderstood genius who will one day be immortalized in adult contemporary radio classics by Sarah Brightman. Be gone. Go back to your safe, sandy shores where you breath your oxygen freely and have full access to pretty much anything without having to board a passenger submarine.

Feh. Visual Guides

Hooknose and the Stingy Vermin

Today's New York Times features a story about the German film "Alles auf Zucker!," a comedy that has both German Jews and Gentiles rolling in the aisles.

Reporter Kirsten Grieshaber describes it as the 'first German-Jewish comedy since World War II.' I guess I must have missed that particular golden era of 1939-1945 German-Jewish kneeslapping classics.

There were some other very encouraging quotes later in the piece:

The weekly magazine Der Spiegel commented: "The audience is not laughing at the Jews but together with them. This is definitely a step in the right direction."

So it would appear the era of massive German Jew-mocking  blockbusters could be coming to an end. And it was only just last year that Hooknose and the Stingy Vermin swept up at the German People's Choice Awards.

And this one:

"One should never forget that 80 to 90 percent of all Germans have never met a Jew," Mr. Levy added. "Together with all the guilt feelings they have accumulated in the last 60 years because of the Holocaust, this creates an almost irrational fear of the Jews as a 'strange people.' "

One should never forget...unless of course one had no clue in the first place. 90 percent of Germans have never met a Jew??  I think the answer to this problem isn't bad Jew slapstick movies. It's maybe getting a little face time between Germans and Jews. And if there's none left in Germany, may I suggest some tour groups to Israel, Brooklyn or ... LA? Seeing Hollyweird in action should be the perfect cure-all of anyone who perceives Jews as a 'strange people...'

Right?

Bachelor of the Day: Josh

Today's Bachelor of the Day was more of an anthropological hunting/gathering mission.

Namely: are there any hot gay dudes in Alaska?

Our tools: Creative application of Friendster advanced search.

Our findings: Yeah, one. This kid, Josh:

Josh was born in Kenai, Alaska, and still lives there.

He's 23, and he's a stone mason. And he's looking for: Relationship Men and Women, Dating Men and Women.

I guess you can't get too picky up yonder.

No Comment

Below is an MRI of a person who reads Feh. but does not post comments on Feh.:

AVOID TELEPHONE RECEIVER-SHAPED BRAIN CANCER.

POST COMMENTS ON FEH.

The American Idol Channel

Do you have American Idol fever??? I do!!! (I actually do. It's a problem and the antibiotics don't seem to be responding well.) I love it so much I wish it was on, like, three times a week!!!

What's that you say? It is?

Well then I wish it was on 24hrs a day, 7 days a week. In fact, what are they waiting for? I want my AMERICAN IDOL Channel!!!

It may be a little bit of a challenge to fill up the programming, but I have some great ideas for variations and spinoffs!

(half baked bit to follow:)

How about...

Sample contestants:

A Turnip.

Inspiration: To keep it real, and show other turnips that their dreams can come true.

Who is your American Object?: My American object is dirt. Dirt was the one to bring me to life and give this opportunity to do what I enjoy.

A papsmear.

Favorite female pop artist?: Mariah Carey.

What would people be surprised to learn about you?: They would be surprised to learn that I am not fake. I express how I feel. Basically what you see is what you get.

Okay, now what about....

Sample contestants:

Robert E. Lee

What other talents do you have?: Dance and acting.

Who is your favorite judge and why?
Simon, because he's cute.

Jean Johnson

If you win, who will you thank first? God! Then my mom.

What other talents do you have? Basketball, barbering.

Bachelorette of the Day: Vicki

Vicki is S.A.L.I.!

Nobody Walks in LA....They RUN!

The marathon ran by my apartment yesterday, and my car was parked south of Olympic, which basically meant that like it or not, I was a marathon hostage. Not that I was complaining. I love marathons. They're like parades minus the bullshit and feature more flopping wieners than you can shake a flopping wiener at.

When the marathoners reached Fedora, my street, they were roughly at mile 23, just about 3 miles from the finish line downtown. So these kids were in the final stretch and gosh it warmed your heart to see the looks on their determined faces.

My neighborhood really got into it. They set up a little stage where various rock bands performed. The first featured some cross-cultural Generation Z-ers.

The lead singer looked positively baffled as to why anyone would want to take his picture. About one half second later, he leans towards the guitarist and says: "Is that your dad?"

Pretty soon we had some actual athletes show up. First three wheelchair warriors came through, to tremendous applause from the locals.

The Locals.

Here's first placer Mark Saina, of Kenya, with police escort and film crew:

Basically all the people at the head of the pack were less like people, more like Terminator T-8000s.

Then about an hour and a half later the deluge came.

Who knew how many freaks get into the marathon?!

There was Elvis, with Elvis shrine...

There was Mr. Tan...

And then there was THIS freak who I wouldn't even begin to know how to classify, though his label said "Coat Man"

Why is he carrying a takeout pizza with a bottle of wine balancing on it?

Eventually I started to run out of film so I just started taking pictures of the hot guys. Like this dude:

JESUS CHRIST.

Well there you have it. LA Marathon Report 2005.

Best Week Ever: The Gathering. Character Card: Christian Finnegan

Name: Christian Finnegan

Species: Whitey White White Sorcerer

Spells: 8th Level Gesticulator: Waves hands around a lot when making fun of celebrities.

Ice shifter: Can be one cold ass bitch with a whiplash smile.

Essential/Incidental Scale Score: 8.9 Christian has some of the best lines of the show, and his meta-ironic delivery is definitely an acquired taste, but a taste worth acquiring.

Sex Appeal: 5.4  Um, Christian, you're on TV. Time to trash the Old Navy stripey shmatas and get some style, dude.

Quote: On Julia Robert's bizarre "Happy Birthday, Marva" opening to her Oscar presentation speech: "What if that was code? What if she was actually activating a terrorist cell in Buffalo?"

Feh's First Annual Erotic Fiction Contest: HeLLO- I was SERious

No, like, seriously, guys. So far my only submission was an application for a Yahoo! Visa Card and let me just say that credit card debt is NOT erotic.

Cmon! Type it out. You spend enough time thinking about it, and doing it in bar bathrooms and what have you. We can keep you totally anonymous. If you sucked it, fucked it, licked it or chewed it, I wanna hear about it!!!

Entries, 250 - 650 words.

Send to doorfelldown@yahoo.com.

To Every Season, Turn, Turn

Okay so my mother found the blog already. I hate my sister.

Mom's only criticism was the name. She felt it was 'weird', 'unpronounceable,' and 'meaningless,' which was, ironically enough, the three reasons I chose it.

Oddly, she had nothing to say about the prominent photo of that dude snorting a line off some chicks ass, or Bo Duke's Enormous Shlong.

My mom does have the instincts of a hungry meerkat, however, and The Kishkesphere was merely a placeholder til something better came along, plus I looked at my traffic statistics and let's just say the only people who are even going to possibly notice this brand-revamping are two very pretty, very lonely Indonesian boys on the other side of the world (shout outs to Leilee and Pho!)

Now, as to the new name...

My first year of college, I used to do a cartoon for the campus paper, The McGill Daily. It was very political, topical and controversial! It was called "Feh." I went rooting through my closet and found some old clippings:

Here's one where I attack a President Bush about his stance on gays (keep in mind this is 1992, and I'm 19 years old):

Here's one about Christo, also 1992.

Who would think this would be funny again in 2005???

Finally, here's one about campaigning:

I CANNOT BELIEVE I DREW A HAIRY PENIS IN MY COLLEGE PAPER.

Well there you have it. The precocious work of a young, fearless, clearly artistically ungifted Seth.

So in honor of my inner child, that out and proud dammit! rabblerouser I've decided to name my blog "Feh."

Think of it as my take on the 7, 14, 21, 28, 35 Up series of films.

I'm 32 years old now. Have I changed? Not much.

Feh.

Have A Great Weekend, Everyone!!!

Have fun! See you Monday!

Bachelorette of the Day: Michelle

Yes!  A girl! I promised and I always keep my promise.

Today's Bachelorette of the Day has closed off her profile to the general Friendster community.

But two things compelled me enough to give Michelle the vaunted post.

One is her picture. Here it is:

Um. Okay. How to put this.

HOLY SHIT.

Michelle, we need to have a heart to heart. It's about your current boyfriend. We can do better. Right people?? We're gonna get you right back on track in no time.

The other little drop of blood (hm, poorly chosen metaphor) I managed to squeeze out of the otherwise off-limits rock that is her restricted profile is that Michelle, in her own words, has "only just met Regina, but i have a very serious girl crush on her."

So there you have it. Michelle needs a drastic U turn in her love life, and you heard it from her own mouth, she's just CRAZY about regina.

So whatcha waitin', whatch waitin', whatcha waitin', whatcha waitin', whatcha waitin', whatcha waitin' forrrrrr....

I Know My Chicken (You Got To Know Your Chicken)

I live in the coolest neighborhood in LA: Koreatown.

I mean, yes it's dirty and there's no parking, and every block has an abandoned couch on it and maybe a Christmas tree or two lying around mid-February, and yes someone was shot in the head across the street (he lived) and strange people knock on my door Sunday morning yelling in Spanish to accept Jesus, and I mean yes packs of wild feral dogs roam the streets and everyone uses Mexican cell phones, ie honking their car horns incessantly regardless of what time it is to make their presence known.

Actually I hate Koreatown.

Okay now I'm going to talk about my favorite little chicken place, though, and that's in Koreatown.

It's called Pollo a la Brassa. Maybe you've passed it. It's on this tiny little traffic island at the corner of Western and 8th and the sign on top features some chickens on a spit and, oddly enough, the word 'Western' is written backwards, as if we have somehow entered through the Looking Glass, and goddamnit if this place isn't a Wonderland of deliciously affordable chicken.

I'm seriously addicted to this place. I sat down to do the calculations, and I must have eaten there, like, approximately 90 times. And then if I do further calculations, that works out to about 40 whole chickens I've eaten, JUST THERE. That's like...a FLOCK of chickens. I've eaten entire communities of birds, like whole groups of friends and extended chicken family reunions. I've devoured cities of chickens.

But can you blame me?? I mean first of all, do chickens know how delicious they are and how much of their bodies are like deliciously tasty? What is it, like 90 percent? And I don't know what they do to them there, I guess it's the wood burning but it's also like garlic infused or something, but Pollo a la Brassa makes an already tasty bird like INSANELY IRRESISTABLY DELICIOUS to the point where I really can't begin to express how good it is so I'll just stop, 'cause I'm gushing here.

I wonder where they all come from....

The Kishkesphere's First Annual Erotic Fiction Contest

Trust me, this is going to be great!

Send me submissions! Between 250-650 words.  Woman on woman, man on woman, woman on man, man on man and ESPECIALLY man on closeted celebrity all welcome.

email: doorfelldown@yahoo.com

Days of our Batshit-Crazy Lives

The mysterious Wizard-of-Oz-like, batshit-crazy Days of our Lives showrunnerJames E. Reilly has come up with a novel way to let one of his lead actresses go on maternity leave hiatus without disrupting the natural flow of his lovingly constructed (read: insane) plot lines. Admittedly, I don't watch this crap, but apparently some character named Sami is enacting revenge by going deep undercover, disguised as an ex- cutting edge cable reality show contestant disguised as a gay man.

Follow?

I'll try that again.

Basically "Sami" is turning herself into "Stan" on Days, and "Stan" is actually going to be cast with an actual man (sort of): that's right! It's Boy Meets Boy's very own dopplegayngner, Dan.

Here's a visual representation:

Okay, frankly I haven't been this genderbendingly confused since Liza stepped into the lead role in Victor/Victoria.

That moustache is kinda hot though.

Toby? Or not Toby?

Oh God.

Save Toby.

Bachelor of the Day: Way-Fan

I guess you could say I'm a way fan of Way-Fan, our Bachelor of the Day.

Here's all you really need to know about him: he's smarter than you, he's smarter than your friends, and he's smarter than your family. He's pretty much the smartest man in any room he happens to be in. We're talking PS 139 and Yale, class of '99, bitches!!!

Way-Fan was born in Taiwan, now he represent Brooklyn, to paraphrase LL. (Cool J, not Bean).

He enjoys drawing, photography, fine arts, reading, running, cooking, music, and varietals [that's pretty speak for wine] .

See?? He's teaching you shit already!!!

He loves a lot of big sounding books and important sounding movies and according to his About Me, he has two eyes, ten toes, and two gazillion hairs, on his head, not his back. (Hey! Wait a second!....oh the shame...)

Now if you weren't sure how smart he is, he goes into depth about it...MENSA...IQ 139...bla bla bla. To be honest I started to get bored and skimmed that last part.

Okay! There you have it! Brainiac and a beast in the sack. Go get em, girls!!!

MONTAGE-A-GOOGLE

Okay, people,  I finally found a site that justifies the existence of the internet, and NO it's not Feh., but thanks for jumping to that conclusion.

Are you ready?? (you're really going to thank me for this):

MONTAGE-A-GOOGLE

Just enter a subject (I typed "compound fracture"), click 'search' then 'create montage' and VOILA! Cutting edge photomontages worthy of a Chelsea art gallery.

Go ahead! Knock yourself out!!

BWE:TG - Character Card: PAUL SCHEER

Name: Paul Scheer

Species: Third Level Gaptoothed Elf

Spells: Hiltonimmunity - Power to make Paris Hilton jokes still sound funny.

Heat Resistance - Power to come off as cute and likable even while dishing celebrity dirt during the SIZZLER segment.

Essential/Incidental Scale Score: 9.7  Paul Scheer is one of the main reasons to tune in.

Sex Appeal: 8.8  Masterfully swings his goofy, eager puppy dog energy and looks to his advantage.

Sample Quote: ON PBS'S REGENCY HOUSE PARTY: "The chamber pot under the bed is totally bad for the booty call. Because all of a sudden, the girl comes in with a candle, she's like oh, this is terrible-did you eat raw meat? I'm outta here." 

Best Week Ever: The Gathering

   

I've decided to turn VH-1s Best Week Ever (that little Easter egg of joy that shows up on my TiVo every Saturday and is always a super surprise because I forget every week) into a role playing trading card game.

This might take a while, and I have nothing to show you yet. But just think how fun it'll be when it's ready!

Camp Cupcake Blues

I worked for Martha Stewart once. It was my first job out of college. I had moved to New York from Montreal, and my sister was a writer for her magazine, Martha Stewart Living. She hooked me up with a gig as a production assistant. My first day, I had to drive up to Turkey Hill (her Connecticut property) and wrap hundreds of boxes in plain brown paper for a TV commercial shoot promoting her new service "Martha By Mail"-- her first foray into merchandising. That was the first time I had ever heard of, much less seen, the famous 'Arucana' chickens that laid magical eggs in the pastel colors of blue, yellow and green from which she drew her palette. I also met her two Chow dogs that day and her two fluffy, indifferent cats.

We worked out of the barn, which had been transformed into a headquarters and prep studio. Everyone had disappeared--to go fetch a small mailtruck they were painting with her beehive logo. Having finished my task, I sat on the outside steps alone, waiting for the rest of the team to return.

That's when I saw her coming towards me, from the house. I was scared shitless as she approached and something about the perspective gave me the impression that she would be approximately twelve feet tall by the time she reached me. She wasn't, though.

She looked at me, and asked, matter of factly, "Where is everyone?"

"Um," I ummed. "They...went to get the...mail. Truck. The mail truck."

"Well come help me weed the vegetable garden," she replied, which seemed simultaneously both pleasant and horrifying.

I jumped up and followed her to the nearby vegetable patch. She handed me a trowel, pointed out what a weed looks like, and I went to work. But so did she. And as we wound our way through the rows, she took the time to point out what every vegetable was, and assessed their progress.

"Those are our peppers. Oh my, look how red they are. These are going to be incredibly sweet. The squash look like they should be ready to pick in another week or so..."

I kid you not. It went like this for some time. I'm not trying to give you the impression that we bonded. She never asked me who I was, or what I was doing on her property or for her company. She hardly looked me in the eye. Her bond was with the vegetables, and her garden. She just assumed I would want to know everything there was to know about the subject. And I'm not entirely sure she wouldn't have said the same things if no was there at all.

I had other interactions with her. They were always similar to that first one. I once had to drive out to Connecticut to bring her a mysterious package. When I got there, she tore it open, and pulled out a brass door handle. She looked positively ecstatic when she saw it, and squealed "Oh! Unfinished brass!!!" Then she grabbed another door handle she had lying near her--it was so perfect cameras could have been rolling---and held her palms out for me to compare. "You see the difference?" she said. "The finished brass is shiny and garrish. The unfinished brass is so much nicer."

She was right. It was nicer.

Martha is getting out of prison this Friday. The media will be there to capture it--it's reportedly her wish. No doubt she'll be a different woman. Maybe missing some of her luster.

But you know what?

I think she'll be nicer.

Recreation of the E! Recreation of the Michael Jackson Trial

As a public service, The Kishkesphere will be recreating daily the daily E! recreations of the Michael Jackson trial.

Today...

Episode I: Bashir Bashes Back

Mesereau (actor Rigg Kennedy) hammers away at the accuser's family, asking if they were so desperate to escape Neverland--and Jackson is charged with keeping them there--why didn't they call police, contact the mother's military boyfriend (now husband), make a plea to ranch visitor Chris Tucker or try to make a break for it when the mother was taken to a salon for a body wax?

Bashir, meanwhile, after a screening of his documentary, confirmed he conducted the interview, then deferred to his attorney, who said his client was not obliged to answer questions under California's shield law for journalists.

At a break in the taping, Kennedy fields a cell phone call from his agent, saying E! is 'over the moon' with his performance. Rigg is thrilled and says it's his most challenging role since playing opposite Ally Sheedy in Maid To Order.

Meanwhile, a large, full color feature in the New York Times detailing the career and makeup secrets of Michael Jackson illusionist Edward Moss is the source of some friction from his less media fondled co-stars.

Bachelor of the Day: Zac

Our Bachelor of the Day had me at hello. Or rather, he had me at Search Page #493 and that gleeful smile.

I am thrilled to introduce you to:

Zac !!!

Zac is a man of few words, the strong, silent and happy type (my fave.) Let's see what his profile reveals:

1. He's 32.

2. He's from Niagra Falls (Honeymoons, anyone??) but now resides in New York, NY.

3. He's a set designer (handy AND artistic).

4. His hobbies and interests include thrift stores, flea markets, coffee and daydreaming (basically Zac is a lazy Sunday in heaven).

Now let's take a better look at this dude.

Here's Zac demonstrating his flip top head and gigantic tongue:

Now here he is looking really hot:

Okay basically I want Zac. But alas...he lives in New York City. And sorry ladies, Zac likes boys (don't worry, straight men and YES even women to come).

Okay, you lovehungry hippos! Time for a Zac Attack!

Bo Duke's Gigantic Shlong

Take a long, hard look at John Schneider's crotch. (with thanks to Defamer)

(Click images to...er...enlarge.)

10 Bitches We Hate

10.  Melania Trump

Who the fuck is this bloodsucking Van Helsing bitch? How desperately money grubbing can you be to submit to a lifetime (or at least 'til she starts to show signs of aging) of Donald Trump and his hair climbing on top of you nightly to do his non-real-estate-related business? Hate the bitch.

9. Star Jones

Now that awards season is over, workers can begin the painstaking process of removing the over 10,000 layers of dry caked-on celebrity feces entombing her fat head from her hours clocked sticking it up celeburectums on various red carpets around town. On the bright side, the smell has the Pavlovian effect of making her all the more sexually desirable to her gay, gay husband.

8.  Oprah

YES I said it. What the fuck IS she? She walks around with that wide jungle cat head and mane of hair like some mythical creature, a threeway hybrid of The Lion, The Witch AND The Wardrobe, while an unstoppable uber-army composed of boring, talentless midwestern housewives and Jamie Foxx genuflect at her altar. I will love you forever, Jonathan Franzen, for not submitting to this condescending, pseudo-Zenlike, improve-your-life-by-making-me-richer media-glutting bitch.

7.   Condoleeza Rice

What to say about someone who signs their entire existence over to the cause  of furthering the life's work of George W. Bush, hanging on his every mangled word like some star-crossed schoolgirl in love. Does she dream about him, and if so, what are those dreams about, I wonder? Do you feel safe with this bucktoothed bitch in power? Me neither. Bitch works my last nerve.

6. Cameron Diaz

There's something about Cameron. That something is that she's a dumb-as-shit bitch. Could any living thing, including anything in the insect world, possibly be any dumber? Trawling down Australian beaches with her 'boyfriend' Justin Timberlake tucked under her arm, and a 425-pound bodyguard trailing behind them carrying their Ugg boots? Could someone please smack that dopey smile off her mutantly-oversized cheekboned face? Theenks.

5. Jessica Simpson

Have you ever seen this bitch sing? Her contortions, tics and gulps recall feeding time of the African White Tipped Swallow, sucking down the last remains of its salamander dinner. And nice tan, Jess! I believe you finally have achieved your goal of matching your skin tones and texture to the interior of your Lincoln Navigator. Bitch.

                         
4. Debra Messing

Can someone be worthy of our collective hatred simply for being unspeakingly ugly? In any case, Debra has given us so much more than just her Jappy bovine features to despise. There's her shrill, unfunny weekly performance on Will & Grace, not to mention her mute concubine sperm donor husband, forever standing silently at her side during interviews, probably daydreaming about where he might have misplaced his penis. God I hate that bitch.

3. Jimmy Fallon Hi! I'm lovable Jimmy Fallon. Some people say I look like an off-duty drag queen, but I don't let them get to me. I just turn on my patented style of goofy-nervous-mock-self-deprecation mixed with my trademark ironic-hipster-detachment and ANNOY THE FUCK OUT OF EVERYONE with my summer-camp-bonfire-calibre song parodies and incessant laughing at my own hilariousness through every SNL sketch I've ever performed in. Actually, fuck that, now I'm gonna be a movie star 'cause my charisma is so gigantic it needs an IMAX projection and 12 of your dollars to be truly appreciated.

2. Mischa Barton

Okay, now THIS bitch I have had the sorry, sorry experience of having witnessed first hand, in action, last year at the Coachella VIP section, stumbling around drunkenly screaming at her boyfriend.  I would argue that of any single person on television right now, including that woman selling computer lessons on VHS, Mischa Barton has the least talent and is the most annoying. I wonder how much this bitch makes a week to stand there, vacant-eyed and void-brained, making crappy dialogue sound -- astonishingly -- even crappier.

1. Parker Posey

Don't you want to kick this grinning, insane 'indie-Queen' hard, right in her ugly face? What is she?? Where did she come from?? On what basis and with what materials did she manage to build a successful career?? Why do people like her??? I mean, I'm so at a loss, I can't even be funny right now. I can only sit here, stunned at how much she bugs me. Did you see her, "fashion fan Parker Posey," on the Project Runway finale, catatonically chewing the inside of her cheek and mumbling something about texture?? For the love of God. JUST. MAKE. HER. GO. AWAY.

New Feature: Bachelor of the Day

Wherein I introduce Feh.'s newest sensation, The Bachelor of the Day. That's right! A honest to goodness, living, breathing hunk who may well live in a community near yours! Only eligibility requirements: he needs to have a Friendster profile, and I must not know him or ever have communicated with him.

Ready? Okay! Our very first Bachelor of the Day is...

TODD!!!

Todd hails from Lawrence, Kansas, which immediately evokes all kinds of cliched Americana you can bring up on your first date. And while his main photo, which you see to your left, screams 'Law Firm Brochure' and should for all intents and purposes be accompanied by the text 'has been practicing tax law since 1991 and has two beautiful daughters with his wife Elaine, a party planner,' Todd in actuality works in the fun creative world of Post Production (Sitcoms/Features), so don't worry about injuring your bridge work falling asleep headfirst in your endive salad as he rattles on about...I dunno, tax stuff (fill in your own joke.)

The first thing you notice is that every picture Todd has posted looks like a completely different person. Is he the dashing, slightly heavy set fellow in the main picture? The sprightly young actor wannabe in the black and white headshot? The mysterious blonde stranger being attacked by a butterfly? Or the obese man seated naked at a computer? (If so, I'm almost positive I met Todd at the Faultline last Sunday, wearing a similar outfit...which would render him ineligibile...) In any case, each picture has a certain sex appeal. Let's assume Todd's true visage umbrellas the gauzy worlds in between.

Todd's favorite movies include Thirteen, a movie about thirteen year old girls, Goonies, a movie about thirteen year old boys, and a movie I have never heard of, called Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things, which I can only assume is about thirteen year old girls and boys (and dead things.) So if you love someone who still has that magical wide-eyed wonder made desirable by such Oscar also-rans as Finding Neverland and Michael Jackson Jury Selection, look no further. (I kid, I kid.)

Let's skip Todd's musical interests cause those ain't gonna win him too many fans, and go directly to the Who I'd Like To Meet section, where he lists Corey Hart (a Montreal Jew, like yours truly), Corey Haim (a Toronto Jew, I'm detecting a theme here!) , Jesus (a Jew but I don't think he spent much time in Canada), and the old lady who is looking at the camera at the Mary Tyler Moore opening credits freeze (not a Canadian Jew, to my knowledge.)

Okay! There you have it! Gentlemen, start your ENGINES! And by ENGINES I am referring to your EMAILS to TODD asking him OUT on a DATE. And by GENTLEMEN I am referring to LADIES in the WEST HOLLYWOOD AREA and by LADIES I am referring to GAY GENTLEMEN.

Pop Will Eat Itself

I offer myself to you and will let you dine from my live body. Not butchery, dining!!

-Bernd Juergen Brandes, Willing Cannibalization Victim

Who says romance is dead! It's alive and well and being fed its own flambeed penis before being stabbed numerous times in the chest! In fact, "Not butchery, dining!!" may well be the the "We'll always have Paris" of the germanohomosadisticautocanabalism scene.

I read recently that the story has inspired a massive hit single and comeback from industrial band Rammstein. The song, titled Mein Teil (rough translation: My Thingie) retells the entire sordid tale of kraut-computer-clerk-consumption gone wild and can be sampled here. It's fun to turn down the sound on your TV and have it blare along as the soundtrack to the Bachelorette finale. (Come to think of it, the only thing that would have warranted sitting through all three hours of that drekfest would have been seeing Jen feed Jerry his own sex organ.)

Meanwhile, the ... what is the correct term? "Top" doesn't really seem to capture it in this instance. Galloping Gourmand? Fresser? Teil Taster?...anyway, that guy has sold the tv and film rights to his story after a nine month negotiation. I can only assume three of those months were devoted entirely to what he required in his hotel minibar.

So stay tuned to the Here! network for their spin on the Lifetime woman in peril movie of the week! Only this time it's a homo who wanted it all along! Working title: Mother, May I Cook With Dieter?

Anne Frank, Eat Your Heart Out!

Well, I think we all knew it was inevitable. Seth has a blog.

Before we begin, here are some articles and ammendments:

1. I won't be referring to it as a "blog." That word, like "bling" and its annoying fat cousin "bling-bling," is very 2003 and I will do everything I can to avoid it. I'm still rolling around several alternatives in my mouth to see what feels right. "Gesamtkunstpace," "Kishkesphere," "Valuable Brain-tonic and Cure for All Nervous Afflictions" and "Kitty" are all in the running.

2. The main purpose of this forum is for me to waste time at the office and avoid doing actual work. If a by-product of that should be enlightenment and entertainment for you, my readers, then great! But I'm not promising anything.

3. That said, we encourage your thoughts, responses and reactions, negative, postive, or otherwise.

4. Like Ms. Frank, I do believe in the inherent goodness of humanity. I do. But I'm a 'gay man' working in the 'entertainment industry' in 'Los Angeles, CA'. ie. I swim laps daily in an Olympic sized cesspool of human depravity so dank it would send Josef Mengele running for his Gund collection. Try to keep that in mind as I riff endlessly on things I witness daily. After all, these are the people in my neighborhood...in my neighborhood....in my neighborhooood.

Okay, that's enough for now. Away we go!