





I had another crush picked out for this weekend, but then Rue McClanahan passed yesterday and all other crushes were rendered obsolete immediately. Because Rue is a crush for the ages. She was a woman of style and spunk, sophistication and salaciousness who refused to be slut shamed. That, by the way, was a big deal. Women who sleep around on screen have not always been treated kindly, let alone beloved. But as the delightfully desirous, unapologetically amorous Blanche Devereaux you couldn’t help but love Rue. She was the Southern Belle who could ring your bell in the bedroom, and was happy to bellow about it to anyone who would listen. She represented a shamelessly sex-positive image of a woman of a certain age that was practically unheard of – even today.“I’m tired of lying on my back….did I just say that?”
“Like I’m the only person who’s ever mixed a margarita in a sailor’s mouth!”
“You know how fragile men’s egos are. Do the smallest thing such as scream out the wrong name and they go to pieces.”
“I swear with God as my witness, I will never pick up another man! In a library ... on a Saturday ... unless he’s cute ... and drives a nice car ... Amen.”
Rose: “Is it possible to be in love with two men at the same time?”
Blanche: “Well, let’s set the scene – have we been drinking?”
And, well, there was her love of the Lebanese.
Thank you, Rue. For being fabulous, for being fearless, for being – as always – a friend. Happy weekend, all.
Katherine Heigl is making my head hurt. No, not just because she has made a series of movies that look, sound and indeed are awful. Don’t get me wrong, that makes my head hurt – but that’s not the main reason my head hurts. The main reason my head hurts is because Katherine Heigl’s big screen career embodies one of life’s most eternal and unanswerable questions: Which came first, the chicken or the egg?Now, I have nothing really against Katherine. I appreciated how she had T.R. Knight’s back during the whole “Grey’s Anatomy” gay slur kerfuffle. And I have no problems with her acting abilities or outspokenness. But it’s the kind of movies she is selected – bland, generic, uninspired fare that reinforces the uptight single woman stereotype – that makes me and a lot of other people cranky. We could spend hours, days, weeks pondering the five Ws: who, what, when, where and why did people think these movies were a good idea? Which, of course, leads us back to out original question. Is she making bland, generic, uninspired rom-coms because that is all that is out there for actresses or does her taste in rom-coms just really stink? I would say it’s probably a little of both. Yes, romantic comedies have become rote and formulaic. But, no, Katherine isn’t the only one with a long list of crap rom-coms on her resume. (Hey, Jennifer Lopez! Sup, Jennifer Aniston! Hola, Kate Hudson!)
So what’s a gal who admittedly enjoys a nice, cozy rom-com from time to time to do in the face of a cineplex full of Katherine Heigl movies and their unillustrious ilk? Seek indie fare? Retreat to Netflix? Read a Jane Austen novel? Chicken, egg –who knows. I just know I cannot endure any more “unlikely suitor, high-concept hijinks, unnecessary obstacle, true love, happy ending.”
p.s. This does not, in any way, excuse the men who make crap rom-coms. Yes, Ashton Kutcher, I mean you – put down that Nikon, stop Twittering and start making movies that don’t suck.


O Zimbábue não parecia o adversário mais complicado para um amistoso de preparação para a Seleção Brasileira. Porém, o time africano deu muito trabalho para o Brasil no primeiro tempo da partida que aconteceu em Harare (ZIM). A vitória por 3 a 0 mostrou alguns problemas no time de Dunga, que ainda terá o jogo contra a Tanzânia, no dia 7, para testar outras opções.
OK, so, what is it with the British? They get the posh accents and the afternoon teas and the sophisticated yet secretly smutty lesbian dramas on the BBC. We get Sarah Palin’s Alaskan windsong, Grape Kool-Aid and “The Real L Word.” It’s simply not fair. So my latest envy comes in the form of “The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister.” After “Tipping the Velvet” and “Fingersmith,” the jolly old Beeb has proven that it knows how to dial up the lady loving. Say what you will about those Victorian-era sudsters, they certainly weren’t dull.Now comes Anne Lister and this time, it’s not just a tall tale from the fertile imagination of Sarah Waters. This is based on a real lesbian’s life. Take that, Ilene Chaiken. Miss Anne Lister was a 19th century landowner and avid ladies’ lady. Hey, those aren’t my words. That’s just paraphrasing from some of the more than 4 million words written in her coded diaries. Sample text: “I love and only love the fairer sex and thus beloved by them in turn, my heart revolts from any love but theirs.” See, avid.
Now, considering we’re still struggling for acceptance in the 21st century, I have a sneaking suspicion that things do not go entirely smoothly for our 19th century heroine. I sense there will be much heartbreak and sobbing on tree limbs amid the delightful bodice ripping. But I am so ready to swoon over the dashing Maxine Peake as Anne.
Just my luck, I’ll be on vacation when “The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister” screens at the San Francisco LGBT Film Festival later this month. But, I may or may not have found myself a copy to watch while I’m on away instead. Hey, I’m nothing if not resourceful. Here’s a taste of the trailer for everyone stateside.
See, lucky British. Of course, you’ve got David Cameron and we’ve got Barack Obama. So for once we’ve have the cooler leader. But, yeah, other than that – totally jealous.
p.s. Damn, I just realized there is one thing the British really suck at – stopping oil spills. Hey, British Petroleum, fix it! Fix it NOW!
So, clearly, it’s a Tuesday. And, yes, Tuesdays are for tank tops. But sometimes a gal needs to mix things up a bit. I figure other articles of clothing should be allowed to stop by every now and then for a visit. Like a timeshare of hotness. So today, the humble tank top makes way for the elegant trench coat. The iconic piece of clothing is as practical as it is promising. That great promise, of course, is simple: That there will be only smooth skin and sin waiting underneath. For example, on Naomi Watts the trench says both a) I’m wearing a jacket in case things get nippy on our car ride and b) I’m wearing nothing underneath to ensure things get nipply after our ride. See, change can be good, or bad – in the someone has been a very, very bad girl sense.
My what nice, um, “Bones” structure you have. I know – groan.
If you get flashed by a cop, who do you call? If it’s Mariska, everyone.
Cold outside, hot everywhere else.
Ever since she got canned from “Transformers 3,” I’ve liked her a lot more. A lot.
Dear Shonda Rhimes: Next year, please consider incorporating a trench coat into next season’s mandatory Calzona make-up sex scenes. Just a thought.