Who Buys this "Sh*t"

Over the past few weeks, I keep seeing an advertisement for a (not so) revelutionary product called "Latisse" which is some sort of drop that you rub in/on? your eye to promote Eyelash Growth. God, how did the world ever exist without this product? More importantly, aside from spokesperson Brooke Shields (ka-ching), who in the hell would ever buy this product? Have they not heard of mascara (and the art of applying multiple coats to create the look of extra eyelashes)? Not to mention the "fake eyelash" which can be purchased at CVS for the rock bottom price of $6.99.

My question was answered yesterday when Parker sent me the following email:

Dear Val:

I would only tell this to you but I went to my dermatologist for a facial peel and ended up asking for a prescription for Latisse. My sister in law says it works amazing and makes it look like you are always wearing fake eyelashes. Of course it was $100 per tiny, tiny (like less than an ounce-sized) bottle. It better frickin work - Is it a vial full of heroin/liquid gold/water from the fountain of youth or Latisse? By the way, don't tell DW.

First of all, the chances of me and Parker's husband "DW" conversing about her beauty regiment are about as likely as me being asked to pose in Playboy. Secondly, I immediately responded by telling her that now I know "who" would actually fall for that product and that I would definitely have to blog about her "vain eyelash desperation" and that I could think of about 4,000 things I would rather do with $100 than purchase an eyelash-growing elixir.

Meanwhile I'll stick with my Maybelline Great Lash and use my $100 for something necessary like a years supply of "Fat Girl Slim" Cellulite cream - which I'm sure will melt away my cellulite in 2 weeks - just as promised.

As for Parker, I would love to see her next week when we meet up for our girls weekend, looking like this:

R.I.P. John Hughes

Today I sent my husband an email which basically said that because my son had his two best friends over with no adult supervision, I was expecting to come home from work to a replica of Jake Ryan's party house from "Sixteen Candles." Not two seconds later, I logged onto MSN and saw the news: John Hughes had passed away suddenly at the age of 59. Total bummer.

In his honor, I'd like to thank him for the following:

• Thank you Mr. Hughes for permanently recording a celluloid history of the entire 1980's. I can watch any number of your teenage angst flicks and immediately be thrown back into the fashions, trends, and vernacular of the 80's (Shoulder pads, Polo Oxfords, denim miniskirts, and the phrase "What's a Happenin' Hot Stuff?" come to mind).

• Thank you for introducing us to a young, gap-toothed sarcastic Robert Downey Jr. (Weird Science).

• Thank you for always making the Principal a major Putz.

• Thank you for inspiring me to skip a day of school (which I did shortly after I saw "Ferris Beuller's Day Off"). Needless to say, instead of lip singing at a parade, I ended up alone, driving around aimlessly in my 1976 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, eventually settling in at the local library perusing People Magazine.

• Thank you for making it cool to have the wild parties at my house whenever my parents were out of town (Sixteen Candles). Of course I paid the price dearly whenever my mom came home and one of her Hopi Indian Kachina dolls had a missing limb or the vodka bottle was refilled with water (just kidding my parents never noticed shit like that).

• Thanks for Home Alone I and 2, which my children have seen no less than 15 times each.

• Thank you for making a movie from the title of a Psychedelic Furs song (Pretty in Pink) and giving us a character named "Blaine" and "Ducky" and always casting James Spader as the rich asshole.

• Thanks for making it (some)what cool to be the "Geek" (Weird Science, Sixteen Candles et al.)

More (Crazy Ass Bitches) To Love

I just finished watching the TIVO'ed second episode of "More to Love," - a version of "The Bachelor" starring a heavy set guy (Luke) and a bevy of heavy set women all looking for love (on national tv, of course). Evidently the Fox network has decided that nothing makes for great Tuesday night television more than exploiting women who have the self esteem of a hunched back, three-eyed, shut-in who's been abused since birth.

Seriously? These girls are "overweight", not freaks of nature. The first 2 episodes have been little more than close ups of these women bitching and moaning about how no one has ever "loved them", how they were always "picked last" for the Red Rover game in 4th grade and how they've never been to the Prom. Well "boo frickin hoo" ladies. I've been to Disneyland, Costco a County Fair and on a Carnival Cruise to Mexico where I've seen women twice their size (and some of these ladies had a total dog face to boot) and yet THEY somehow managed to land a husband.

One girl in particular "Kristen" a 23 year old, doe-eyed teacher (who clearly comes from the land of Low Self Esteem) has already claimed to have fallen in love at first sight. Her overbearing neediness makes me just want to slap her upside the head and has prompted me to yell "Get a Grip Girlfriend" like 16 times so far.

But I digress, because how could "Kristen" resist the meaty, larger than life bachelor "Luke?" Luke is undoubtedly a catch for any woman: a 26 year old ex football player turned "real estate developer" which is code for not currently employed but I have my house on the market: "For Sale By Owner"). Not only is Luke a major success in life, he is also a "Majah Playah" who has MADE OUT with six of the girls so far (remember we are only 2 episodes in). Handing out long lingering sloppy kisses to these girls is like inviting Paula Abdul to a party with a Vicoden-filled Pinata. Once their lips have touched Luke's golden lips, they are all in a tizzy. In fact, I've taken to calling him 'Leo DiCaprio' because of his ways with the ladies. I've got news for ya gals: Luke is not really all that special. In fact his kissing-bandit-routine/sex-addict -tendencies/"hey ladies" grin make me wonder if he is not in fact some sort of super human created in a test tube with the combined sperm of of David Duchovney and Dom Deluise?

Naturally, since I'm 2 episodes in, I'm going to see this show through to the end. But to be honest, nothing would make me happier than if these girls took Luke to the Santa Monica Boardwalk, dumped his ass over the side and went on a cotton candy spree while the theme song from the Mary Tyler Moore Show played in the background.

-val

Below a "don't miss clip" of Luke doing his best imitation of DiCaprio at a model's convention:

Obviously the words "I think Yes" makes the ladies melt like butter...mmmm butter.

Just Wash my G*d Damn Prius

When did the "Car Wash" turn into the goddamn "Mall of America"?

The other day I took my car in to get it washed (I usually take it to the "Do-It-Yourself" drive thru but decided it needed a good inside/outside wash). As I pulled up I was met with the pushy "upgrade guy" (you know the one who always tries to upsell you to the $39 "Super Detail" with Armor All tire treatment and undercarriage scrub?). I instead settled (i.e. 'insisted' after haggling for 10 minutes) on the $16.99 "Regular Wash" and was tempted to tell him to "make it snappy," but I knew that would never happen.

So I took my receipt into the shiny "main building" to pay, and my first thought was "Holy shit, did a Checker Auto Parts, Claire's Boutique, Best Buy, Hallmark, Starbucks and Forever 21 explode in here?" The endless parade of crap was unbelievable. Some of the products for sale at the "Car Wash" were:

• The aisle of tank tops, including a black tank (made of the finest cotton) with the words "I Heart Michael Jackson" written in Rhinestones. Clearly a 'must have' for any contemporary closet
• A collection of vinylesque handbags and belts. Because everyone knows that when you need a belt, the local Car Wash is THE place to go.
• An assortment of greeting cards that could rival any Hallmark store. They also had a beautiful assortment of mini porcelain figurines - a virtual gift-giver's paradise.
• No less than three separate sitting areas - complete with leather sofas and 50-inch plasma tvs. Not only could one relax and catch up on "All My Children" while getting their Lexus washed -but there was an actual on site person prepared to sell you said 50-inch TV.
• An "Internet" station - in order to check your email or find you soul mate on Match.com while waiting for your tires to be Armor All-ed.
• An automotive section (this part actually did make sense). The pink/black zebra striped floor mats caught my eye, but they were snagged up by a 95 lb woman wearing Pink Juicy's and black tank top - obviously in an attempt to snazz up her BMW SUV.

I made my way through the maze o' junk somehow managing to resist all the top notch products and paid my $16.99 to the Cashier/Barrista/Soda Jerk. As I sat outside waiting 45 minutes for them to pat down my car with a shammy (the management has CLEARLY told the towel boys to take their sweet time so that the patrons will be tempted to go on a mad shopping spree while they wait upwards of an hour for their car to be dried) I remembered the good ol' days when a Car Wash consisted of nothing more than a trailer sized room with cash register (and a few candy bars) surrounded by plastic, coffee-stained patio furniture and a few Auto Trader magazines. I was also tempted to yell out "Enough already! Just wash my god damned Prius!"

-Val

The Skinless Corpse Museum: Or Why I'll Never Eat Roast Beef Again

As summer vacation draws to an end, I decided it was time to do something "educational" with my kids, because let's face it: their marathon sessions of Sponge Bob and playing online Tetris for hours at a time will only get them so far in life.

My 11-year old daughter had heard of the traveling "Body Worlds" exhibit when it was in LA last year and had surprisingly, albeit morbidly, expressed interest in going. For anyone who hasn't heard of the "Body World's" exhibit, here's a rundown: it's an exhibit of real, dead skinless corpses, which have been cut, sawed and sliced every which way and then "plasticized" into a shiny gleam of muscle, bone, organs etc.... The mastermind behind this exhibit is some German scientist named "Gunther Van Hagens" and if there is any question as to whether or not this dude is completely psychotic, here is a picture of him - which begs the question, "Isn't that the same Nazi dude who got that medallion imprint burned into his hand in Raiders of the Lost Ark?" It's not, but this guy looks as creepy as they come:

Although his exhibit of naked, skinless dead folks has been touted as "Magical, Amazing and Educational," I have to admit it was a bit creepy as well. When you walk into the exhibit, the first thing you see is a glass case with a spotlight on a dead, soggy human brain - and this my friend, is the least disgusting thing on display.

Me and the kids meandered through the museum, checking out the "ballerina" (complete with exposed tendons, muscles, anus - yes "anus"- and real life pink ballet shoes). Great, now I know that a ballerina uses a lot of bloody tendons (and tightens her anus muscle) every time she pirouettes. Other "highlights" included the teenage skateboarder (as seen above), complete with dangling "man junk", a pregnant lady with stomach and uterus carved down the middle and the not-to-be-missed "Exploding Man" which looked like it could have been the body of the 7 ft villain from "Goldfinger", but without skin and hair it was impossible to tell for sure.

Additional dandies on display were: the lung of a coal miner (which brings me to my "roast beef conundrum": This morning I put a 3 lb roast in the crock pot despite the fact that when raw it looked exactly like the right buttock from "the Ponderer" and as it cooked began to look more and more like the coal miner's "black lung" from the museum. I knew that I would never be able to eat the muscle-butt, black lung roast and finally dumped it in the trash). In addition, The "Slices of brain" looked suspiciously like thinly sliced deli ham and don't even get me started on the reproductive organs display.

All joking aside, it really was educational and indeed, pretty "amazing". Once my daughter got over the fact that they really were Dead Bodies (and not dummies as she had originally thought - a bit of miscommunication on my part) and overcame her almost-fainting spell when she saw the chicken's capillary system display, we actually enjoyed ourselves. Sadly however, we may never visit the deli again. I rest my case with this picture of Dr. von Hagen at work with creepy mad scientist fedora, hard at work slicing brain matter: