My Thumps

My life. My mind. My thumps.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Bringing Androgyny Back

Is Androgyny making a comeback in Celebrity Land?

Gender Neutral

Friday, February 27, 2009

Wonderwall | Gallery | Casting the New

Awesome news '80s movie fans: CLUE is getting a remake! That's right, your favorite childhood "whodunnit" will be casting new suspects soon. What do you think of our choices? Tell me now...before I kill you, in the library, with a wrench.

read more | digg story

Monday, February 09, 2009

Wonderwall

Hi guys. Come check out my new writing residence:

Wonderwall.com

Product Fiend Forever

Sadly, I just discovered that the beauty and skin care products site I once contributed to has gone to the big discount pharmacy in the sky. Before all my hard beauty reporting work is lost forever, I bring to you one of the more important questions of the new millenium: What kind of lip balm do YOU use?



See more here:

Madonna Facial

Space NK Apothecary

Saved Tattoo

Beauty Ambush

Face Off!

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Saturday, November 22, 2008

I Was An Elementary School Slut

I was four-years-old back in '82 when my parents took me and my brothers (seven and nine, respectively) to see "Porky's." I distinctly remember a young Kim Cattrall howling like a she-wolf in heat while getting boned by the assistant coach. I made a mental note to learn some animal mating calls for future "make believe" purposes. Seriously, why did my parents bring three little kids to see an R-rated sex comedy?

Dad: "We thought it was a Porky Pig movie!"

Mom: "Your father wanted to see it and you refused to leave! What could I do?"

Pass the popcorn, Mom. This sexy sneak preview to a post-pubescent future was the likely root of my hyper-sexuality, and here's what followed...

I Was An Elementary School Slut

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Monday, November 17, 2008

The "Real" Best in Show: Worldwide Fido Awards 2008

I yelped like an excited puppy at my invitation to Nick at Nite’s star-studded Worldwide Fido Awards. My friends and family know me best as a cat lover, but truthfully I am "bi-petual." A blues-singing beagle, jump-roping Jack Russell and bikini-wearing boxer were among the canine creme-de-la-creme competing for the coveted title of Worldwide Fido Winner...

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Check out the full story here:

Hot Dogs: My Peek Inside Pooch Pageantry

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Revenge of the Babysat

Over the years, young-ish boys have tended to get randy with me and I'm not entirely sure why. I don't sit on park benches and offer them candy bars post-soccer practice, nor have I ever supplied alcohol for a junior prom after-party. (Also my tits really aren't that big.) Did I just somehow veer off my Mary Kay LeTourneau path of destiny?

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Either way, I am unwittingly a cougar way before my time.

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At age 14, I was sexually harassed by an 8-year-old who I was being paid to babysit. Rowen demanded we watch "Drop Dead Fred," an early '90s Phoebe Cates flick (sorry fellas, no bikini dream sequence here) where her childhood imaginary friend returns to wreak havoc upon her life.

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Much like Fred, the Freudian representation of his sweet-but-meek owner's id, Rowen similarly tormented me and toyed with our power dynamic. He whined until I let him sit on my lap, and mere minutes into the movie, I felt his goblin hands grab my "bad touch" zone.

"Don't do that!" I scolded.

Rowen peered up at me mock-innocently. He may've been 8, but this little dude knew exactly what he was doing. (Admit it guys, some of you little pervs did.)

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Even though I was getting the same uncomfortable vibes usually reserved for my best friend's Uncle Fester, I said to myself, "Self, he's just a kid. Don't make a mountain out of this weird little mole hill." But sure enough, moments later, Rowen was rubbing his face up against my shirt trying to motorboat me. I reprimanded him again and scooted the little molester off my lap for good. He grinned and giggled, turning his attentions back to the TV. This kid was a total deviant, and I was stuck with him for the next six hours. And like most abuse victims, I was too worried and embarrassed to tell to his parents what happened.

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But years down the line, I realized it wasn't about age - it was about the particular boy. For instance, there was my 16-year-old intern, Kevin at my first job out of college. Kevin was tall and very cute and definitely "mature" for his age - it was hard to resist this smooth character's brand of mock-innocent flirting. It was also hard to tell him what to do, because he'd bat those big puppy dog eyes and IM me that I "looked sexy today." One day, Kevin swore me to secrecy over IM, then confessed ... he was having an affair with his female homeroom teacher. She was two years older than me. I wasn't surprised. In fact, I was sort of jealous.

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Years later, I bumped into Kevin hanging out in a park with some of his soccer buddies . Alas, I was with some unmemorable boyfriend at the time and couldn't seize this finally-of-age moment with my former intern. It just wasn't meant to be for us.

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BUT one summer when I was in my late 20s, I finally tested these wannabe cougar claws: Magnus was 19, the lead guitarist in a Swedish indie-rock-metal band. I could've been his babysitter, his camp counselor, his teacher, his manager - and manage we did. In the morning, I gave him a granola bar and sent him on his way back to Stockholm...

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After that, I started getting it on with young dudes from all over the Tri-State, 'cuz we have the cutest frat guys in the world!

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I hope this doesn't land me on some neighborhood watch list.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Confessions of a Celebrity Gossip Girl

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(The Reno she-cops and I want to help Britney!)

An essay I wrote about my former life as celebrity magazine/blog/web site reporter was recently published on Orato.com, and I'm relieved to finally share all my inner angst with everyone. I may be an eavesdropping namedropper, but at the very least, I do have a conscience!

Confessions of a Celebrity Gossip Girl

Exorcising the demons, forgive the regretfully earnest tone.

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