It’s as though Father Christmas shimmied down my chimney a week early and left a big, beautiful box of drunken, trash talking lassies just for me. I’ve either been extraordinarily nice or deliciously naughty this year. Either way, my heart has been aglow for the last week thanks to Saint Nick and some foul-mouthed prima donnas.
I’ve been muddling through re-runs, waiting for the networks to air their new episodes, which won’t be until after the new year. Recycled episodes haven’t discouraged me too much though. On the contrary, the lull has allowed me to play catch up on some of my fave shows while making some surprisingly delectable discoveries in the process.
A recent gem of a find, “Whatever Martha”, on the Fine Living Network, has filled me with the same sense of exhilaration that must have gripped Columbus when he parallel parked the Santa Maria into port after traipsing upon the New World.
Hosted by the fairly hot fruit of Martha Stewart’s pristine loins, Alexis Stewart, “Whatever Martha” is a sinfully decadent half hour of witty, sarcastic observations by Alexis and co-host Jennifer Koppelman Hutt. In the same spirit as Mystery Science Theater 3000, in which a man and his robot sidekicks watch B-movies on a spaceship and keep a running, wise-cracking commentary of the cheesy films, Stewart and Hutt offer their own snarky observations while watching past clips from the Martha Stewart show.
The gal pals banter about vibrators, wet spots and drinking all while poking fun at the irritatingly perfect Martha as she dresses a table for the holidays or hangs a homemade laundry line for her crisp, white 1,200-count Egyptian cotton sheets.
Alexis and Jennifer are a brutally obnoxious, yet fabulously amazing duo who are creating quite a buzz for their acerbic commentary. Martha’s cell-mates were probably gentler than these trash-talking hens. Here’s the downside, unless Martha shows up as a guest on her daughter’s show and starts talking about a “special lady friend’ she met in the joint, you’ll be hard pressed to find any decent girl-on-girl exploits. But it’s the derisive yet humorous banter of Alexis and Jennifer at Martha’s expense that will keep me coming back for more.
Quick-witted, saucy commentary hosted by foul-mouthed babes must be the trend, because I’m as addicted to Chelsea Handler as the late-night comedienne is to her bottle of Grey Goose. Handler’s perspective on politics and pop culture is utterly sardonic and refreshing not to mention spot on. I discovered Handler and Chuy, her little person assistant, last summer while I was working the night shift.
Her late night talk fest, Chelsea Lately was the only thing keeping me awake. Sometime around 2 a.m. Handler unabashedly confessed to favoring pearl necklaces. I was horrified….and a tad grossed out. But I found something utterly refreshing about the unapologetic candor with which Handler observed the world. So what if her favorite magazine perfume samples include the words “Baileys” and “please drink responsibly”, by gosh I think she’s swell.
This week the gorgeous Erin Cahill showed up on How I Met Your Mother as Heather, Ted Mosby’s irresponsible and impulsive younger sister. Heather arrived in the big Apple hoping to land a job in finance, while her overprotective brother did everything in his power to keep her out of his lothario friend Barney’s pants.
Barney’s own Christmas and Hanukkah carol renditions about schtooping Heather were the highlight of the evening--possibly the entire season--but the nude scenarios I envisioned between Cahill and Cobie Smulders were still better than visions of sugar plum fairies dancing in my head or new puppies under the tree on Christmas morning.
Although, in drastically different roles, both Casey Labow and Jennifer Aniston showed up last week as a couple of broads cuckoo for Coco Puffs. Labow gave a creepy turn on CSI: NY as Ella, a deranged woman out of touch with reality and obsessed with Det. Mac Taylor. The walls of Ella’s apartment would have made any HGTV decorating guru cringe.
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The smokin’, albeit mad hatter, forewent paint and instead covered every inch of wall space with eerie postcards with intimate and often disturbing confessions printed on them. Every homo designer in the West Village must have had a simultaneous aneurysm. I suppose the madness in Ella’s eyes could have made her any number of hot girls some of you may have dated at one time or another, or at least someone stumbled across at tea dance.
30 Rock may have been a repeat, but Aniston was terrific as Claire, a crazy nymphomaniac, sociopath party animal whose sexual target was Jack, played by Alec Baldwin. Costumed in a short, black negligee mimicking that of a naughty French maid, it became clear why Aniston was my favorite coffee-indulging friend. This was an Aniston like I’ve never seen.
I used to think Angelina Jolie could wipe the floor with Jen if it ever came down to a one-on-one cat-fight over Brad in a dark ally. Now I’m not so certain. Angie may have slurped a drop of Billy Bob Thornton’s blood or two in her heyday, but Aniston pulled off loony as though loony itself were designed to fit snuggly in between her ripped, muscular arms. Angie’s poor bod has been put through the ringer after having churned out three kids and if the tabs are correct, it may not be too long before she belts out another set of twins.
I’m now inclined to think it’s Jen who will overpower the sexier half of this Brangelina phenom--quick, someone call my good friend hot Toddy and ask him to Photoshop some compromising photos of Angie and John Mayer. Couldn’t you go for a good tussle between these two pixies? Now that would be a Christmas present.
Finally, props must be given to Mitch Pileggi for his guest role last week on Criminal Minds, an episode reminiscent of Falling Down, the Michael Douglas movie about a man’s mental collapse that leads him to go on a killing spree throughout LA. Starring along with Pileggi was Faith Ford, who endeared viewers with her innocent naivety during her Murphy Brown days.
Ford looked absolutely amazing and definitely worthy of membership into the exclusive cougar club. Pileggi and Ford gave dramatic turns for their roles as parents of a young child killed in a tragic automotive accident. Unable to deal any longer with his family, especially his wife, who he perceives as excessively condescending and fault-finding, Pileggi’s character committed the ultimate crime by shooting his entire family as they slept.
Ford definitely evolved from cute to mesmerizing for this role. There’s nothing naughty or sordid to say here--Ford may have looked smokin’ hot but she deserves nothing but respect for her serious and poignant turn as a wife who may have been responsible for pushing her husband to his emotional breaking point. It’ll be a few more weeks until the networks start churning out their new shows. In the meantime, sit back and get yourself caught up.
Missed the last Where the Girls Are? Read it here.
