Come on Bret.

Dear Internet,

For the past few days Max and I have been crazy for more news about Bret Michaels. Since Rock of Love, and now Celebrity Apprentice, I've been fairly enamored of Mr. Diabeetus, and now that he's had a subarachnoid aneurysm/hemorrhage, I am just sitting around wondering how my favorite B-list Celebrity Apprentice contender is going to make it through.

I'm a bit nervous. Perhaps he should lay off the bandanas for a while.

All joking aside, well at least sort of, this is a super scary thing. I wonder, and really Maxie Jean raised this, if The Donald is going to make an announcement prior to the start of this week's episode of The Apprentice? What can he say? Does he feel guilt because he went on a tirade about bandanas, how much he likes them, and if he were a rock'n'rolla he would wear one too? Imagine Donald's miraculous coif covered up by a red, pink or green bandana? It would be pretty amazing. And puffy.

Forget Cyndi Lauper and her roundabout storytelling, Curtis' uselessness, or the fact that Goldberg finally got fired after weeks of doing nothing. Please also forget the fact that I had an internal battle over who covered, Smokin' in the Boys Room (Motley Crue vs. Poison -- it was Motley Crue) on the Red Line, that I woke up with neon green relish in my hair and mustard in my fingernails (rough night, closed with Hot Dogs), and that I really can't wait for 8:00 PM CDT to come.

Donald's celebrity star player (post shoot, of course) is sitting in ICU waiting for some doctors to give him a prognosis better than Livin' for the Minute.



Keep your hands clasped in prayer and your insulin needles within reach. We're holding a Bret Michaels vigil.

Shelly D.

Want Your Salad Chopped in Brooklyn? Too Bad.

Dear Internet,

Why is it that I can go to hundreds of different places in Manhattan and get a salad exactly how I want it, chopped, but if I venture over the East River suddenly that option is off the table? Not only are the salad options severely limited outside of the most famous borough, but if you ask them to chop the salad after mixing it, you'll get a look from the saladmaker like you asked for his right arm. The other day I tried a real upscale deli place near Borough Hall in Downtown Brooklyn, and they had no idea how to chop the salad, and the guy didn't even know the difference between walnuts and almonds! I don't know why things are so skewed in the world of make-your-own-salad, but I can speculate that it's because the secret salad-chopping skills first developed thousands of years ago were closely guarded by the Illuminati and they only let saladmakers in Manhattan read the sacred text, and only after swearing a blood oath never to export the secrets outside the island.

That's all for now,

max

PS - I also just figured out how to type a cross easily on my Mac †. Totally will help when I post about Jesus.

Porn for Women from Jack Donaghy

Bret Michaels: The Best Project Manager Ever? Part Deux

Dear Internet,

Rather than respond to Max's comments within the page, I decided to do it here:

First off, my delayed response is due to the fact that I work in a heavily regulated industry and we have websites blocked. My blog, apparently, being one of them.

Second, did you see how old some of the Harry Potter weirdos were? Like 30. Too old for Houses.

On to the discourse:

1. I am not jealous of Selita eBanks. She certainly has got looks, as I so stated. But the tasks on Apprentice are no brainers and these morons treat it like it's the most difficult buttload ever. So you've got two of three: looks, motivation, but she's hardly the smartest. In fact, they're all fairly dumb.

2. There's no such thing as a role player. They're called failures. What has she knocked out of the park? Both of the teams, in my opinion, were lacking. And of course the women didn't market what was most important in the task: THE FUCKING RIDE. No point in a 3-D interactive display without that, and if memory so serves me, the men did. I will give the women credit, they did have a nice display. And, getting back to the point of kicking ass, Bret fills in all the gaps, asks for things to do, even if he is a sissy and about to go into diabetic shock during it.

3. Cutting potatoes isn't getting down and dirty. Have you worked in a restaurant? That's premium kitchen duty when compared to dish washing.

4. You should always step it up, it's not a question of need. Success in business is about filling in the gaps always, not just when you think it's necessary.

5. Restaurant Challenge: The men didn't win only because there was a chef on the team. They won because they were savvy enough (and had the foresight) to over-charge (by $290) for hamburgers, whereas the women were going for volume. Wrong game, wrong day, wrong analysis.

Bret Michaels == Joan Rivers. My next best, when she finally comes out of her Dayquil/NyQuil super enlarged pupil haze, is Sharon Osbourne. She manages Ozzy, for crying out loud.

Enough said,
Shelly

Bret Michaels: The Best Project Manager Ever?

Dear Internet,

If you're not watching The Apprentice on Sunday nights at 9:00 PM EDT / 8:00 PM CDT, then you better crawl out of your hole. The Apprentice has, for the past few seasons, embarked on a tour de force of celebrity idiocy. Only next season will regular business people take the stage.

In any event, the past two seasons have been marked by stupidity, bitches, and, well, just regular lack of common sense. Not until now, however, has the every day rock n roller prevailed.

What rocker, you ask? Well none other than Bret Michaels, famed Rock of Love host, star, Poison front man, and weird girl catch. I personally love Rock of Love. It happens to be one of my all time favorite shows. Especially season one. I missed Rock of Love Bus. Getting back to my point. Bret, lovingly called the Rock of Love heretofore, is the best reality TV person for The Apprentice gig. Why? I'll tell you why, in ten simple statements:

1. Rock of Love puts on eyeliner better than Selita Ebanks. (Please note that I just learned that her last name was Ebanks. I thought that was a typo. EBanks makes me think of online banking applications, as in Chase and Citibank.)

2. "If you're gonna freak out, have a rock star freak out." 'Nough said. Bring on the PBR, Patron, strippers, hookers, Heroin, and, preferably, crack rocks.

3. Rock of Love says, "Dia-beet-us" rather than Diabetes. How's that for down home charm?

4. Bandanas. Every girl's greasy best friend.

5. "Michaels'[Rock of Love's] "Rock of Love" television series is one of the most successful in VH1's history. With three record-breaking seasons under his belt, Michaels is currently embarking on several other television projects, including the upcoming "Bret Michaels Show." That's a quote from The Apprentice website. Bitches.

6. See photo left. This was presumably sexy at some point in history.

7. He has more hair, and potentially more Estrogen, than Selita e-Banks (I'm changing this so she sounds like software), Cyndi Lauper, Sharon Osbourne, and Summer Sanders. (Did I miss Holly Robinson Peete? Who cares, she's worse than "watching ice melt".)

8. Goldberg: "You're only as good as your weakest link." And that be him. Damn good tree, but terrible otherwise.

9.See photo inset right. Another version of sexy for you sleazoids.

10. Every rose does have its thorn.

11. He's the only numbskull who will actually admit he doesn't understand something. Few and far between in real business and much appreciated. You go, Bret!

Rock on Rock of Love. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for you.

Shelly

Cooters and Vogue. How I Knew the World Was Ending

Dear Internet,

I'm not quite sure when the camel toe, or as I like to call it, The Wendy, came back in style. I'm not quite sure if it ever was in style. And no matter how radiant and beautiful Giselle Bundchen is, a camel toe belongs on no woman.



In actuality, Giselle does not have a Wendy. But, dear Internet, the capacity for other women reading Vogue and deciding that it's high time they got a pair of short shorts is endless, and therefore so is widespread camel toe across this great land.

Almost Camel Toe:

Actual Camel Toe(s):

Enough is enough. Take a bite out of crime, fight the war on cooters.

1. That is disgusting.
2. It obviously hurts.
3. Potentially life-ending if you consider infections.
4. Not everyone should wear shorts.
5. No one should accidentally show a cooter.

Shelly

Too Tired to Try. Or Not Drunk Enough.

Dear Internet,

It appears that I am afraid of the internet. There's really no other way of explaining why I'm too slow to write posts anymore. Oh, and I'm super lazy. This whole working in an office thing is sort of for the birds.

Well, not entirely. I feel like an actual person because I've been working in an office. Whatever or whoever an actual person is. But that's not the point. I wonder what happens when I cross that bridge in the morning that makes me too tired and too out of it to sit down and write for a few minutes.

Clearly the tone of this post is not my regular booze-induced rambling. I'm sort of concerned with my inability to be creative after 5:00 PM CDT. Perhaps it's because all day long I'm thinking of new fun things to call the creepy weirdos I work with. I work with one individual whose personality vaguely reminds me of Michael Douglas' William "D-Fens" Foster, and who will also presumably go totally crazy one day and bring a Tec-9 to the office and start shooting up the john.

The potential of this happening is probably about 63%, and if it does happen, it'll probably be awesome. Except for the fact that I'll probably be the first one shot Columbine-style. Why? I'm so sweet and mild mannered. Not true, particularly when you consider that I've coined my co-worker's swagger as a "mongoloid leprechaun gangsta strut". I'm almost certain to be caught in the crossfire. Especially since I told this individual, "you're not in this conversation."

Se la vie. I'm too tired to be nice and/or political sometimes, especially when the person sat on my keyboard, asked me ridiculous personal questions, and made me want to vomit because all he talks about is the auto industry.

That's all I've got. And the reason, I'm working right now in 60 degree sunny weather instead of wandering around drunkenly.

Sadly,
Shelly