ANGELS AND KINGS

It's no secret that I love Ashlee Simpson - she's the ultimate ugly duckling success story.

I mean, she grew up in the shadow of busty blond big sister Jessica - and that couldn't have been easy for a girl with little talent, no tits and a big nose. However, with the help of a doctor's scalpel, she has transformed herself into a surgerized swan - and nabbed a rock star boyfriend.

Call me crazy, but I rocked out to her first album. Yes, I realize it was overproduced bullshit, but somehow I connected to her overproduced teenage angst - probably because I have so much of my own.

As luck would have it, Ashlee and her rock star fiance (Pete  Wentz of Fall Out Boy) have opened a bar named Angels and Kings located just steps from my apartment in the East Village. Ashlee and Pete are attempting to fashion it into a grungy version of the super chic Beatrice Inn. I've made it past the velvet ropes several times, but Ashlee was always surrounded by people - until last night.

Let me explain:

It was just after midnight when I saw my idol perched all by her lonesome on a bar stool. Her eyes were lined in heavy black makeup and I think (I hope) she was DJing because she was wearing "cans" over her red extensions.

I couldn't let this moment go by.

I casually bumped into my idol as I elbowed my way to the bar to order my $20 Black Bitch.

"So sorry."

She looked at me and smiled.

OK, this was my moment - try to be cool.

"The music is great tonight - who is this song by?"

"New mix by Madonna - here, have some drink tickets for your Black Bitches - what is a Black Bitch?"

"Vodka and Coke -Diet Coke if I'm feeling fat."

She laughed and handed me the tickets. She adjusted her "cans" and wandered into the crowd.

I had to catch my breath, but I had to be cool or the ever present security would label me a stalker.

The rest of the night was a blur.

I plan on going back every chance I get.

BRATS

You know, you gotta love the rich.

Let me explain:

In Manhattan, we have a problem with brats. You know, spoiled rich kids with mommy and daddy paying all the bills. One of these brats (who is Jewish) recently told me she had started a scarf company called Peace Treaty with a Muslim friend. Apparently, these two brats think it is groundbreaking news for an Arab and a Jew to be working together. I mean, does anyone buy this bullshit?

In the same breath, she asked me to work a 10-hour day on her catalog for $150.... or perhaps a scarf.

Was she serious?

She cried poverty....and then told me she just bought an apartment on Central Park.

Yeah, you gotta love the rich.

HILLARY

You know, I am sick of people saying that Hillary Clinton should drop out of the race. I mean, she won last night by double digits - obviously some people want her to say in the race.

Furthermore, she has won all of the large electorial rich states - New York, California, Texas, Ohio and Pennsylvania - not to mention the much debated Florida and Michigan. I agree that Obama is the future of the democratic party, but this is America afterall, and democracy rules, so let Hillary continue on.

SHE'S SHOWING HER AGE

After many years of looking a perpetual 28, Miss Nicole is showing her age. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, even with a forehead filled with Botox, the lower face never lies.

THE NEW 50

Many of you have asked me for a pic of former Go-Go Belinda Carlisle - a judge on my new favorite show "Rock the Cradle."

Well, here it is. Yes, this is what 50 looks like in 2008.

MY NEW ROLE MODEL

OMG - I have a new role model.

Let me explain:

I was channel surfing the other night when I came upon MTV's new reality show "Rock The Cradle" - a horrific train wreck of a program that features the off-spring of famous singers competing American Idol style. I was about to switch channels when Chloe Lattanzi took the stage. I was stunned - and fascinated - not only by her awful singing, but her puffed up porn star meets Pete Burns face. I mean, this girl is only 22, but looks 45 via Priscilla Presley's surgeon. I was even more stunned to learn she was Olivia Newton John's daughter. Furthermore, People magazine ran a lengthy article about her bout with anorexia.

Yes, I love this girl.

Check her out on MTV. Oh, Belinda Carlise and her own plastic cup face is one of the judges.

God, I love this show.

PARTNERS

You know, I'm starting to rethink this boyfriend thing.

Let me explain:

I ran into a friend last week that I had not seen in years.

Why?

Because he now has a partner.

He went on and on about how happy he was - he also added that the sex was still sizzling hot.

I couldn't take my eyes off his expanded waistline, double chin and poorly cut hair.

If this is what having a boyfriend looks like, I'll stay thin and single.

CLIENT #9

“I think hiring a prostitute is the way to go…

I mean, if you just want a bump in the night, at least you know exactly what you are getting.”

So said a friend over drinks at uber-trendy homo haunt Beige.

Let me explain:

Our table was discussing the horrors of the unknown when entertaining a one-night stand. You know, once you’re between the sheets, you never know what surprises await you.

Smelly pits
Uncut
Small dick
Strange sex habits
Not wanting to leave
Bad breathe
Snoring

You know, we’ve all been there. right?

Maybe my friend has the right idea.

HAPPINESS

Spring has finally sprung in Manhattan - and with it brings a sense of hope and happiness.

Over drinks the other night, my friends and I were discussing happiness - more to the point, what exactly is happiness. Of course, most of my table mates had the notion that happiness was the perfect mate, the perfect house etc...

I disagreed.

I think happiness is in the small details of everyday life.

Happiness is finding the perfect eyebrow shape.

Happiness is meeting a cute boy on the street.

Happiness is finding a job that you love.

Happiness is the perfect Cobb salad.

Happiness is a late night phone chat with your best friend.

Happiness is a clean apartment.

IN PRAISE OF SURGERY

I recently came across these now and then photos of Miss Cybill Shepherd - an actress who has said in numerous interviews that she will never go under the knife.

Well, honey, it's time to reconsider that decision.

IN HER/HIS SHOES

I came upon a rather heated discussion on a fellow blogger's page.

The topic?

Pro or con: Forced shoe removal upon entering the house of a host.

I say no way.

I mean, shoes are part of your outfit - and I always wear something with a little lift to give me that extra inch.

Also, I don't like walking around in my stocking feet.

THE LIST

Another piece of the puzzle in the mystery of finding a boyfriend:

I recently read that if you have a “list” of more than 5 no-nos when choosing a mate, the problem is you. I started to think of my no-no list.

1) Not fatties. Yes, I know this is superficial, but I could never date a man with a bad body.
2) No Drag queens. I’m femmy enough; I don’t want to date someone girlier than me.
3) I don’t have an age issue – anyone 25 – 50 is good for me, but they have to have confidence.
4) I’m very open minded with looks – confidence and positive energy can really make a man attractive. I mean, some of the best sex I’ve had were with so-called ugly people.
5) Must be passionate about something in life – work, hobbies, etc.

Ok, I only have five, so why no boyfriend?

A COUPLE OF FROGS

People say you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince.

Well, in my search for a boyfriend, my lips are quickly turning into lily pads.

Let me explain:

One of the best things about living in Manhattan is the anonymity it gives you. I mean, you rarely see the same person twice. With that in mind, sometimes I like to go out with a new identity. Sometimes I'm Tommy the graduate student, or perhaps Vinny the dermatologist, or other times I'm Johnny from Long Island. Oh, I'm not alone in this charade, before having her baby, my good friend Denise would frequent salsa clubs under the alias of Ramona....perhaps, it's a Manhattan thing.

After one too many vodkas Sunday night, I met a hot couple who wanted to have a three-way. Hmmm... Johnny could handle this one. Yes, Johnny from Long Island would be perfect for this assignment. In the cab to their Washington Heights apartment, the couple barely spoke to me. I mean, I was getting scared - very Silence of the Lambs. Once we arrived, we were greeted at the door by a third roommate.

"Oh, we texted him and he wants to try you out, too."

He was handsome and young, so I thought what the hell. We went to the back bedroom and got it on. Once we were finished, he left the room and said, "I'll send the other two in". Suddenly, I felt like a whore at VIP waiting for client #9. The couple and I had sex, too - one was hot the other not so hot. Afterwards, they barely spoke to me. I guess this couple has a three-way clause - no talking or getting close to the third party. Yes, it was odd - as if they were about to say - "It puts the lotion in the basket." I laughed as I let myself out.

I guess I had a good time, but one thing is for sure: In my search for my prince, there are three less Manhattan frogs to kiss.

ICONS

You know, I just don't get this gay icon thing.

I was having lunch with "a queen of a certain age", and he talked nonstop of his love for Barbra Streisand and Bette Midler. Now I admit, I love me some early Babs when she had the winged eyeliner and ratted beehive, but once she scrubbed her face and combed out her hair and went down Laura Nyro's Stoney End, I lost interest.

Bette Midler? Her 1971 self-titled album is amazing, but like the first season of Desperate Housewives, it was five years in the making, so it had damn well better had been good. Everything the divine Miss M has produced since has been medicore at best. Okay, a few songs from "The Rose" are pretty decent, too.

My vote for gay icon is Britney Spears - a real mess.

CHEMISTRY 101

Last night, my friend and I were discussing sexual chemistry between two people. I mean, it's something you can't create - it's either there or it isn't, right?

But what happens when that person you have chemistry with has it with other people, too.

Let me explain:

I have a crush on a chickenhead - someone way too young and way too cute. I know he likes me - we've been fuck buddies for months. But I know he's seeing other people. I mean, when he's with me, he can't take his eyes off me, and we can talk endlessly about anything for hours.

But the real question is, how do you take a fuck buddy out of the bedroom and into real life? I mean, it's hard to sex someone up for months on end and not have any feelings for that person.

I guess I'm afraid to make the first move.

I LOVE THIS!

My friend had this posted on her site, so yes, I stole it, but it's so damn funny.

A FOOL

If this isn't proof that men think with their dicks, I don't know what is.

What a fool - I mean, did he really think he was going to get away with it?

I guess it's true that power corrupts.

BACK TO SCHOOL

"This is where I first cut myself."

"This is where I found out I was pregnant."

"This is where I found out I had a brain tumor."

And my favorite - "This isn't a high school musical."

For the past few weeks, I have been mesmerized by these haunting commercials advertising WE network's new show "High School Confidential" - a documentary  4-years in the making featuring 12 girls from Kansas.  I mean, I drove my friends batty over the past few weeks with my constant "This is where I sucked my first dick  etc...." jokes about the show.

Well, this week I was lucky enough to meet the girls who were in Manhattan on a media blitz to promote the show.    Fresh from an appearance on "The Tyra Bank's Show", I primped the girls for a Newsweek article. 

Of course, I greeted each girl by her problem, which I have to admit made the Midwestern mothers a little weary of me.

The show starts this Monday on WE.

SEX ADDICT?

Am I a sex addict?

I don't think so, but a man I was kinda dating seemed to think so.

Let me explain:

We were out drinking cheap red wine when he asked me what kind of kinky sex I would like to experiment with.  Feeling slutty and slightly intoxicated, I told him I'd like to take him to a "dirty bookstore" and suck him off through a gloryhole.  

He looked kinda startled, but I didn't stop there.

I then proceeded to tell him I'd like to "fool around" in the back of a speeding taxi or maybe he could sneak into my apartment wearing a burglar mask.

He looked at me horrified and confessed his "kinky" fantasy was to "do it" in the kitchen.  

The kitchen?  I knew he was kinda vanilla, but I never thought he was that vanilla.  

Now I've always subscribed to the theory that a man likes a "saint in the sitting room and a whore in the bedroom."  I mean, my dead husband never had any complaints with my sexual creativity.

Of course, the next day I received an email from this man informing me that we were not compatible and that I was a sex addict.

SHE'S BACK

She did it!

Against all odds, Hillary took Texas and Ohio last night, which means she's back in the race.

It's not that I don't like Obama, I just don't think he's prepared to run the country.  I mean,  we only need to look at the current president to see what can happen when someone with very little experience moves into the white house.