Yes, Gretchen, Tamra, Lynne, Vicki, and Jeana are our muses and we think that this is a fitting tribute for the start of what is sure to be a great season of foreclosures, petty disputes, and plastic surgery.

Gretchen Rossi Has a Dildo with a Cord

Empty
like feet searching for the ground while hurling
out of a plane. Empty like tingling
in the cheeks longing for the flapping rush of wind
and the taut explosion of a screaming descent.

Empty
like a love tank in a Prius that has no sparks
and no oil and is just cruising down a hill to crash
into the community's gate. The neighbors will swell
out of their houses—empty, all their goods pawned—

And they will watch as her bloody manicure
sweeps her hair out of her face and she begins
to climb back up the hill, past the empty homes. The mood
is foreboding and gnawing, like debt, like a husband
who doesn't yell, he talks

But when he talks, he is accused of yelling
because everything about his spouse is empty,
her head, her threats, her rhetoric, she is empty
like a puppet missing a hand
like a marionette bobbing

Up and down on yellow strings trying to force her
body into a desirable shape. She is just gilding it,
like a leather and diamond cuff, like Wonder Woman's
magic bracelets,
bullets deflecting in every direction.

The jewelry is designed by a beast, her
tanned hide stretched tight over ribs
like a fleshen xylophone. Hit her with mallets,
make her sing a song of peace as she brings the enemies
around a table, floods it with wine.

Watch them fight, watch them cower. There are
no angels here. Only the accused, eyes still
puffy from crying at the beach with her little creature terriers
named pain and vanity. She cares for them
but longs for a man

Blank as a slate to throw her around a cluttered garage.
There is no room for your grief in the flotsam.
Clear out a space for your dead husband's hospital bed, the Ming vase
urn, swirling with the blue lines of your tears
protecting the chunky ash.

Around the dinner table, let them talk about flowers,
let them talk about work
Let them talk about truth and grievances.
No victims, just someone to tell you to shut the fuck up
to seance the ghost of your gold digging succubus

Before the final empty accusation:
Gretchen Rossi has a dildo with a cord.

• The Wrap reports that Project Runway's move to Lifetime has not quite worked out as Harvey Weinstein and company expected. After a very strong debut, ratings have fallen off more than 20 percent. Worse for Lifetime, having the show on its network, for which it paid a hefty price, has done little for its overall ratings picture. In fact, Lifetime's ratings in the critical 18 - 49 female demo are off 13 percent from last year. On the other hand, after losing its signature show, Bravo's ratings are up this year by 5 percent in the 18- 49 demo, and it had its "best ratings quarter ever this summer." So who is auf now Frau Klum? [The Wrap]

• Anthony Hopkins has signed on to play Thor's dad Odin in the Marvel film adaptation of its comic book series. Chris Hemsworth will star as the thunder god, while Natalie Portman will take on the thankless love interest role. Kenneth Branagh is, amazingly, directing. [Variety]

• And the new Mad Max will be...Charlize Theron. Little is known about the working script, but the Oscar winner will apparently be the front woman in director George Miller's reboot of the classic series. [Variety]

• Sethe MacFarlane's American Dad has been renewed for a sixth season. [Hollywood Reporter]

• Sony reported its fourth straight quarter of losses, although the hurt this past quarter was not as bad as analysts had predicted. The company saw sales fall off another 20 percent overall. The motion picture division saw a "30.4% year-on drop in sales — or 20% on a U.S. dollar basis. But as the NY Times reminded us this weekend, what matters is that Michael and Amy really really like each other. [Variety]

• Tensions flared at the wrap of the theater owner's ShowEast conference over the taking forever rollout of digital technology. The Hollywood Reporter reported, "it sounded more like a threat than a promise when University Mall Theatres' Mark O'Meara kicked off one d-cinema presentation by declaring, 'Digital cinema is here to stay.'" [Hollywood Reporter]

• Prepare yourself for Fish Hooks. The first new animated show to be greenlit by the Disney Channel in three years will soon be tormenting your dreams as it is forced down grown-up America's throats by a nation of over-hyped children. [Hollywood Reporter}

According to Life and Style, the show has inked a deal with socialite Sonja Morgan. Who? Never heard of her. Well, here's the little info we could dig up on her:

• She's married to John Morgan, a great-grandson of J. Pierpont Morgan of, you know, J.P. Morgan fame.
• The couple lives in New York, but also live on an island off the coast of Connecticut and on their yacht. They have one daughter.
• Born Sonja Tremont, she met Morgan while working as the hostess at a Madison Avenue restaurant.
• She executive produced the 2006 movie The Marsh, starring Gabrielle Anwar as a lady who sees ghosts and Forest Whitaker as the ghostbuster who helps her.
• She lost 10 pounds in 2005 and was weighing in at a svelte 125. She did it with the Raw Food Detox Diet. She even wrote a review!
• She's no Bethenny Frankel.

All the rumors from the set this year have been that Bethenny is out with the group, so hopefully she'll have a cataclysmic breakdown which will lead to her storming off the show. Morgan will take her place about episode five of the new season which won't air until next year.

Morgan sounds just like (former?) Countess LuAnn, a lady with the right last name and the right husband, who got to the good life by being pretty and marrying well. She was a working girl before she met her husband, after all. For a prominent New York lady, we don't know much about her, so we can't wait for the floodgates to open. Jury's still out on whether or not this is a good addition, but consider our interest piqued.

Update: Both Bethenny's twitter and a spokesperson from Bravo say that Frankel is going to be on the entire third season of the show. When asked if Morgan was joining the third season, the spokesperson said, that "we haven't released any details for season three." Well, it's not a denial.

[Frankel image via Getty, Morgan image via NY Social Diary]

And it's a bun! That's right. Padma Lakshmi, the gorgeous, allluring, beautiful, exotic, wonderful, slow-talking, beautiful, gorgeous host of Top Chef is with child. No one is saying who the father is, as of yet, and Padma is keeping a low profile, since her battle with endometriosis means its a high-risk pregnancy. We wonder if the cheftestants will have to cook extra in those Quickfire Challenges if she's eating for two.

In other good news, three of the channel's other reality stars—Real Housewives of New York's Bethenny Frankel, Top Chef's Fabio Viviani, and Project Runway's Christian Siriano—have been given shows of their own. Well, it appears that Bravo got custody of it's little gay stepchild during the divorce with Runway! Siriano will have a show about setting up his own business as a designer. This is going to be a must-watch, catch phrase-spewing machine.

Viviani will also have a show about his business, as he tries to take over California with his charm and accent. Frankel will just be saying bitchy things to the camera and getting in fights with Kelly Bensimon for an hour each week. We wish. Actually, we're going to have to watch her cook and try to make sweet, sweet love to the men of New York. I spotted her at a party the other night on the arm of a very handsome gentleman, indeed, so at least there will be some eye candy. Anyway, now that Bravo is spawning its own stars and giving them their own shows, just how long before it folds in on itself in a black hole of meta? Not sure, but I'll probably be watching when it happens.

[Image via Getty]

Nightingale-Bamford had previously aired its distaste with Hughes' participation in the historic documentary. After expressing its feelings, however, the school tolerated her presence through the Spring semester.

But in recent weeks, varying accounts have emerged about whether Hughes would be "welcome" back at the elite academy — her stepping stone to Harvard and then a job running America, which would lead directly to the Presidency of the United States. Those plans may have to be put on the shelf. According to a chilling report on Cityfile:

at some point over the summer, Hughes and her parents made alternate arrangements for her senior year. According to several Nightingale parents and students, Hughes was informed several weeks ago that she would "not be welcome" back when classes recommenced this fall. A school official, however, says that is not the case. Darrel Frost, Nightingale's director of communications, says the school was "expecting her back this fall" and had reserved a place for her, but that Hughes and her parents had made the decision to enroll at another school, so that "Camille could focus on a different educational route."

Hughes will be starting classes at the far less prestigousy, non-Harvard feeder Professional Children's School, which according to the school's website, offers a home to "students who are preparing for, or already pursuing, careers in the performing arts, entertainment or competitive sports, or who are drawn to a creative environment supportive of the arts." Which is to say, students who don't think they have to befriend Jesse so they can get on the Operation Smile committee so they can get into Harvard so they can be President.

And once again, we ask, where is the outrage? Once again, our society sits by while another brave hero who dared to show the world the reality of what it is like to be — in this case a rich girl in New York — is crushed by the prejudice of those who in the end, really are just jealous that they are not asked to be on TV shows themselves.

And they call it justice.

In a cover story that just went up on on their website the gay news magazine fawns all over the Bravo honcho without telling us anything we don't really know. He loves pop culture, he's gay, he's friends with famous people. Whoopie! This is our favorite whooper:

When asked if he'll ever take the stage full-time, Cohen tilts his head in consideration. "I wanted to be on air when I was in college, but right now I love being a TV executive," he says. "All this side stuff is just extracurricular gravy."

Well, if you just want to be an exec, then why not, you know, hire someone to host Watch What Happens Live and all the reunion specials. There are people who do that for a living, and plenty of executives who never get in front of the camera.

Just ask Bravo president Lauren Zalaznick, who you never see and who says something about the channel being so gay, they are beyond gay. Zalaznick says, ""Our audience absolutely has a gay core...But more than that, we know a much bigger circle of our viewers has an enthusiastic, sophisticated, entertainment-based, aspirational view of their own lives, whether they're gay or straight."

Cohen says that Bravo isn't targeting a gay audience and it just "happens to be gay." I hate that phrase. It's kind of like saying that Head and Shoulders is for people who just happen to have dandruff. Cohen also describes his network as "bi" (can you imagine Andy touching a boob? Ha!) because it wants to be gay while attracting a wider audience.

Now we love Bravo and all the Housewives and even, begrudgingly, Cohen, but why does the channel have to have its cake and eat it too. Why can't everyone just say, "Yes, we pander to gays, and to everyone else." There's no shame in it, damn it. That and we want Andy to finally admit that he's as much a famewhore as the bitchy women that his show turns into reality show fixtures. Then we will just lie on the couch for a week watching a Top Chef marathon and be happy.

Trying to sell real estate in this economy is going to be rough for our three flamboyant barons, Josh Flagg, Madison Hildebrand and Chad Rogers so Million Dollar Listing just went from a real estate porn show to a "people with shitty jobs show." It is in some very good company, but do these mini-real estate tycoons have the crappiest jobs on the tube?

Million Dollar Listing
Position: Realtor to the stars!
Dangers: Not making any money in this shitty economy, losing your car, having people make fun of you, starving to death.
Payout: In the five to six figures, if they can make a deal.
Perks: Going through rich people's medicine cabinets.
Risk/Reward Index: We'd do it, if we didn't have such a stable media job.

Deadliest Catch
Position: Crab fisherman.
Dangers: Um, death! By freezing in the rain, falling overboard, dealing with surly captains, or random crustacean uprising.
Payout: In the mid five figures, for only a few weeks of work.
Perks: Free crab!
Risk/Reward Index: We'll use imitation crab in our California rolls, thank you.

Position: Former action star, Louisiana police deputy.
Dangers: We haven't seen the show yet (it starts in December) but we assume dealing with shirtless meth fiends running from the law while dealing with Above the Law jokes.
Payout: We're guessing in the low five figures for the police gig. We're not sure what being washed up pays.
Perks: A comeback!
Risk/Reward Index: Totally worth it (for the viewers).

Ace of Cakes
Position: Baker
Dangers: Cavities, fatness, the torture of touching all those delectable sweets and not being able to have any, living in Baltimore.
Payout: Low.
Perks: Three words: Five Second Rule.
Risk/Reward Index: Pretty good, if you don't mind being poor.

Sunset Tan
Position: Tanning Assistant.
Dangers: Being too stupid to say "melanoma" or know what one is, other people's cellulite.
Payout: Minimum wage.
Perks: Not any really.
Risk/Reward Index: At least you get free McCafés at McDonalds.

Flipping Out
Position: Jeff Lewis' assistant.
Dangers: Your insane OCD boss you needles you more than a heroin addicts arm.
Payout: Probably low. Jeff keeps whining about how he has no money.
Perks: You get to work with a funny maid and meet Andy Cohen at the reunion show!
Risk/Reward Index: After mental health bills, it's cost prohibitive to work here.

And that is what we got last night in an episode that was soaked in more estrogen than a barrage of commercials about tampons, pregnancy tests, and The September Issue. Thanks Lifetime. With a lack of Michael Kors (bronzer accident?) and a female replacement judge and a challenge that focused entirely on the unborn twins bathing in the glory of Rebecca Romijn's amniotic fluid, the boys really stood no chance last night, and many of them managed to fail quite spectacularly. It's not easy to make a cute outfit for a discerning lady who played a tranny on network television, especially if you have a penis. In fact we had all ladies in the top three and three nice (gay) gentlemen on the bottom. Is this how Lifetime works? Are they going to kick queers out of the fashion industry one elliptical-machine tightened ass at a time? After last night, we wouldn't blame them.

What We Hate:

• Mitchell: If this kid spent as much time sewing as he did clowning around the work room, maybe he wouldn't have sent a naked model down the runway last week and made a pair of shorts this week that looked like a fabric sling MacGyver would make out of a used poncho, a pile or rubber bands, and some bacon grease. Mitchell, as every reality show contestant ever will tell you: you are not here to make friends, you are here to win. Start acting like it.
• Spell Check: That is our affectionate name for Qristyl, who can't go to Mood without having a conniption. Last week she had to open a pair of scissors and cut her own fabric. This week she littered a table with buttons. Deep cleansing breaths, girl, it's only a fabric store. And if you piss off everyone who works there, they are not going to help you find that champagne organza that you need to make your delusional vision come true. Then you're fucked.
• Hot Tranny Meth's Model Walk: Did you see Johnny (aka Hot Tranny Meth) trying to teach his model how to walk the runway? You are not tall, black, or fierce enough to be Miss J. Stop trying. Your outfit kinda rocked this week though, so we're being kind.
• Monique Lhuillier: The replacement for Michale Kors was way too nice. That bores us. And Nina, who does not like the competition.

What We Love:

• Louise: For some reason, kooky Kenley Jr. reminds us of folk singer Susanne Vega, and that makes us love her. We take back our hatred from last week.
• Logan Shirtless: The everyone-getting-ready montage was back last night, and we got a few fleeting seconds of our beloved without his top on. It was as wonderful as walking the red carpet and having everyone scream your name repeatedly while being blinded by flashbulbs.
• Stella jokes: At one point Ra'Mon made an allusion to last season's punk-rock leatherista Stella Zotis. Genius. However, we're not sure that this is even legal. Doesn't Bravo own her likeness, creativity, and soul in this media and every media not yet created from now until Andy Cohen takes his final dirt nap? You better be careful. One Christian Siriano impersonation, and your ass will get sued!
• Skinny Models, Big Bellies: We haven't seen anything this absurd and wonderful since dropping acid at Cirque du Soleil.
• Rebecca Romijn's Heidi Impersonation: Her flirty/sassy goodbye while leaving the runway with our stalwart host was spot on, totally hilarious, and shows she gets the caricature that is Ms. Klum. We're totally team Rebecca.

In the end, there were some designers who had vision, like Shirin who won for her flowing maroon number with a wonderful waist above the baby bump (the tabloids should be damned for creating annoying alliterative idiom) and a lined jacket, which, in Runway-land means an automatic win. Also of note was our girl Althea, whose full-length navy gown looked like an awning at first, but later was tailored into something that showed off her craft and mode her model look amazing. And yes, Hot Tranny Meth pulled it out with a mid-length grey dress with contrast edging and a crazy goobledigoo on one shoulder.

But there were more who were delusional. Epperson (who we are convinced is mute, because he has not said one thing in two episodes) should have been called out for being two braid buns away from making a pregnant Princess Leia costume. Irina's dress was cute, but it had this crazy thing over half the waist that not only made the bump look huge, but also like the embylical cord was trying to grow up the mother's side. And, of course, crazy Malvin, whose concept for a mother and egg dress was just fat too extreme for the natural world. It would have done much better if it stayed in his head.

For more on that—to the videos!

Meltdown of the Week
Context: Thanks to Mitchell, Ra'mon realizes that the dress he is making is a piece of shit. He can't handle Mitchell's teasing, which he then tries to cover up with lies about how good it looks. Like Mitchell should be saying anything, because his outfit is even worse. But they laugh. Oh, these two will giggle all the way to the apocalypse.
Vision: That maybe highlighting a pregnant lady's belly with bright purple fabric wasn't the best idea.
Delusion: That maybe the judges won't notice.
What Would Nina Say?: "I noticed that your model's belly is covered in purple fabric."
Dram-ometer: 4

Under the Gunn
Context: Crazy gay installation artist Malvin would much rather make a fabric sculpture than, you know, something that a real human can wear. He comes up with chickens and eggs as a symbol for pregnant ladies. Oh, Malvin. Tim schools him, and he realizes that the only acceptable time for jodhpurs is the fox hunting number in Mame.
Vision: That listening to Tim Gunn can save him. A very wise vision.
Delusion: That his creation was worth saving.
What Would Nina Say?: "The point of clothing is to have something to wear."
Dram-ometer: 3

Runway Arrogance
Context: Despite realizing that he's making a piece of shit, Ra'mon is momentarily blinded by the apostrophe in his name and thinks that he might actually win, because his piece is different.
Vision: Doing something outside the norm will set him apart.
Delusion: Believing the reason that other people's ensembles all look the same isn't because they're doing something right, but because they are boring and that he will triumph for being a visionary. Sorry, Ra'mon. Too much delusion, not enough vision.
What Would Nina Say?: "Just because you are different doesn't make you right."
Dram-ometer: 7

Runway Arrogance Justified
Context: Shirin watches her winning creation march to victory.
Vision: Make a flattering dress, build a jacket and line it. And don't make people hate you while doing it.
Delusion: None here. Gold stars all around for Shirin.
What Would Nina Say?: Nina never gives praise. She just bows her head in acknowledgment.
Dram-ometer: There's is no drama in a home run.

Back Talk
Context: Malvin thinks the judges care about what he has to say as opposed to the clothing he just made. It is a lackluster defense, because he knows he's doomed.
Vision: If he explains, they will get it, and put him on the cover of Elle Marie Claire.
Delusion: See above.
What Would Nina Say?: See for yourself!
Dram-ometer: 3

The Cruelty of Live as Chronicled on Models of the Runway

Taylor is so much of a type that she is almost cliche. She is the hard-working martyr whose skill at her job and the long hours she's willing to work have made her completely indispensable. Her veteran status and lack of social grace means she feels like she can treat her coworkers—and even her celebrity stylist boss!—just about any way she wants with complete impunity. She says she does it to help her boss, but she really is only doing it to make her life easier. She treats both underlings and weak-willed management as if they are her slaves, and because of her aggressive behavior, no one speaks up for fear of her wrath. This is what it must have been like to work with Anna Wintour before she was boss.

Taylor is just like every junior staffer who uses her power to call the shots. And there's nothing Rachael (or your boss, for that matter) can do, because she is under Taylor's thrall and believes that celebrities will be marching naked down the red carpet if it weren't for this blond hipster and her antics. Through hard work and force of bitchy will, she has everyone convinced she's in control.

While Taylor and coworker Brad Goreski, who she terrorized in season one, now claim to be the best of friends we don't buy it for a minute. Brad is employing the only strategy possible to repel such a beast: he is following her lead until he can find a new gig, eventually leaving Taylor behind like a festering boil on Rachel's ass—because Taylor isn't going anywhere and her behavior is only going to get worse.

Of course it's Lifetime's fault. It's the exact same show, other than the fact it's set in L.A. and now on Lifetime. Sure, the show's new network is advertising the design competition's debut in magazines and subway cars and on television, but it's not getting the traction that Bravo's campaigns always did—possibly because the ads only show host Heidi Klum and the show's mentor/mascot Tim Gunn, and not any of the contestants. Even though the finale for season six has already been filmed, it seems like we know nothing about the new batch of designers that will be bitching about bobbins starting Thursday.

Also, Bravo knew how to bring the mania up to a fever pitch. They would advertise a new season relentlessly and show marathons of previous seasons for entire weekends getting the fans back in the mood. Lifetime doesn't have that luxury. Also, we spend a lot of time watching Bravo (hello, various Housewives, Flipping Out, Top Chef, and Andy Cohen) and only tune into Lifetime to catch the odd Golden Girls rerun. Even if they did have spots for the new season, we wouldn't see them.

And just today, the channel that specializes in television for women (and gay men), sent out a press release alerting the world that Runway has a MySpace page. MySpace?! Is it 2005? A show about fashion can not afford to be out of touch. It's all about Facebook and Twitter these days. Oh, speaking of Facebook, Lifetime's version of the show is on there and has 25,413 fans whereas the Bravo seasons have 122,534 fans. Burn.

Lifetime just doesn't seem to have the street cred to carry this thing off. No matter what they do, their Runway will always be a knock off purse compared to Bravo's Louis Vuitton. It may look the same, smell the same, and even have the same logo, but we all know it came from Canal Street and there is nothing you can do to sell it as the real thing.

Or, as a huge fan of the show more succinctly told us when asked if he was excited about the new show: "L.A.? Lifetime? No."

Yeah, we know that Thursday is the third episode of the second season and we're a little late to the game, but we just couldn't keep away any longer. And neither should you. After all, this is one of those shows you try not to watch, but then end up talking about all week with your friends.

The third in Bravo's hit series that follows a group of women who pretend to be friends so that they can share the spotlight and hock products, Atlanta immediately distanced itself by having a mostly African-American cast and by the intensity and volume of their drama.

Ruling over the show is the Bermuda Triangle of drama: NeNe Leakes, Sheree Whitfield, and Kim Zolciak. NeNe and Kim were best friends and were united against Sheree, who thought NeNe was trashy. Then, Kim—a pathological liar and kept woman who wants to be a singer—started spending time with Sheree. When NeNe picked on Kim's nonexistent vocal ability, Kim left her camp to bury her nose in Sheree's bosom. But now Sheree is sick of Kim making shit up all the time, so NeNe and Sheree have buried the hatchet in order to go after Kim together.

It's like an episode of Maury, except no one works, everyone has lots of money, and everyone knows who their father is—oh, except NeNe, but she's supposed to be finding out this season.

Rounding out the cast is Lisa Wu-Hartwell. Aside from just having her house foreclosed on, Lisa is sort of a free radical. She gets along well with everyone (except Kim) and is generally nice and smiley and playing with her ex-NFLer husband Eddie Hartwell. That is until she turns and goes completely ballistic over something insignificant. She's like a volcano, but one that designs jewelry on the side.

Replacing boring DeShawn Snow is Kandi Burruss, a former member of the R&B group Xscape and co-writer of "Scrubs" (the TLC song, not the never-dying sitcom). We don't have much of a read on Kandi yet, but she loves to fight and loves to cry and loves her fiance who loves to have kids because he has six of them.

The brilliance of the show, as with most reality experiments, is in the casting and the location. The ladies are always carrying on about fabulous and luxurious and glamorous their lives are, but they live in Atlanta. Hardly known as a place of opulence (like Orange County), importance (like New York), or incredible tackiness (like New Jersey), Atlanta is just a battleground where big personalities can go to war over issues of very little consequence.

Take the fight below for example. This is from the first episode of the second season and has already become a classic. In it Sheree goes head to head with her party planner, who has inexplicably flown off the handle and Sheree handles herself first with restrained tact that soon boils over into shrieking aggression. And if you think that is great, wait for the second half of Kim, NeNe, and Sheree's parking lot brawl on Thursday's episode (you can catch the first half on the rerun tonight).

The channel announced today that the Project Runway All-Star Challenge two-hour special will air on Thursday, August 20, right before the first episode of the sixth season of Bravo's former crown jewel and the first episode of Models of the Runway, their ill-fated attempted to beat Tyra Banks at picking America's next top clothes hanger.

Being devotees of the program, of course we have opinions about the returning cast as Tim Gunn tells them to "gather 'round" once more.

Daniel Vosovic, Season 2: Best known as the chic but unseasoned designer who won nearly every challenge his season. His clothes are as cute as he is. Odds on winning: 2-1

Santino Rice, Season 2: The greasy villian and yard sale impresario was taking interesting risks when he wasn't designing something that looked like maroon goose vomit. Odds on winning: 10-1

Jeffrey Sebelia, Season 3: The only winner to return, this tattoo-necked jerk combined rock 'n' roll and couture. We always thought he combined ug and ly, but the judges liked it. Odds on winning: 3-2

Uli Herzner, Season 3: Her flowing gowns already lost to Sebelia once, but we always thought she never got the respect she deserved. Odds on winning: 10-1

Mychael Knight, Season 3: The fan favorite was a shoo-in to win his season before his ghetto-tastic final collection shit the bed. Now he's got something to prove. Odds on Winning: 15-1

Chris March, Season 4: He got kicked off and came back only to take his human hair dresses to the final. This big boy with a big laugh won't win, but he'll be our favorite. Odds on Winning: 30-1

Sweet P, Season 4: How did she ever make it to the final? Yeah, she was charming and some of her baby doll dresses were cute, but we don't remember a single thing she made, except her frequent tears. Odds on Winning: 40-1

Korto Momolu, Season 5: She was the biggest surprise of her class, and we have a feeling that she has been thinking up some great ideas while she was sitting at home plotting her fashion revenge. Odds on Winning: 5-1

Cohen, the senior vice president of original programming and development at the channel beloved of gays and their hags, started inserting his pretty little face on the tube by hosting the reunion shows of various incarnations of the Real Housewives franchise. Their high ratings naturally lead him to believe that he was the reason viewers were tuning in and decided to give us a weekly dose of wankery on Watch What Happens Live, where he interviews celebrities (about himself) and Bravo mainstays (about how much they love him). It's horrible and we can't stop watching.

Last week featured the sharpened-pencil face of "real" housewife of New Jersey Danielle Staub, finally shedding light on the horrible thing she did to fellow housewife Dina Manzo that made sister Caroline cry on the recent reunion show. We also got a booty call with Andy's close personal friend Sarah Jessica Parker. He asks her questions about the Sex and the City episodes he guest-starred in, and she rightfully doesn't remember. Don't worry Andy, we'll kiss your bruised ego and make it all better.

Our favorite bit is when he says he's going to send SJP some fried chicken so that she can put it in the blender and feed it to her newborn twins. That, right there, is why Florida won't let gays adopt children.

What we love is that everything about him and his show is as obvious as Michael Kors' fake tan. This Thursday he has on his friends Kelly Ripa and Mark Consuelos and designer Isaac Mizrahi, who is cashing his Bravo paycheck when he's not making $10 frocks for Target. So, yet again the show will be all about Andy and his network.

And that's with us. We haven't haven't seen such boldfaced buffoonery on television since Britney and Kevin: Chaotic and look how well that turned out!

After much rumoring, Tom Cruise has confirmed that he'll star opposite Cam'ron D in the action-comedy Wichita. Hopefully it'll be as successful an endeavor as the pair's previous action-comedy, Vanilla Sky. [Variety]

As Bravo continues to take over America, one city at a time, they've turned their glowing, bloodthirsty eyes on southern Florida. This summer they'll air six episodes of a show called Miami Social, about the fast-paced semi-youngs of Little Cuba. As it's a social, we expect at least one episode devoted to a box luncheon. And lots of ice cream. [Variety]

Two sassy, sarcastic fellows are joining Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan in a buddy action-comedy movie about stolen baseball cards that's basically one long dick joke. Adam Brody and Sean William Scott have just signed onto the cast of Kevin Smith's A Couple of Dicks. Brody will play an exasperated (sarcastically!) detective, while Scott will play... um, the "Shit Bandit," who poops wherever he burgles. Terrific. Ya still got it, Smithy! [THR]

Proving that he has not, in fact, been lost in the Andes or lying under a pile of old newspapers, calling out for help in vain, Freddie Prinze Jr. has joined the cast of 24. Next season he'll play a returning Marine who wants to follow in old Jackie B's footsteps. So good for him. And good for Sarah Michelle, who can now take a break from bringing home all that bacon. It gets heavy after a while, huh? [THR]

Oh, fun. John Lithgow, star of stage and screen, will go at it with Michael C. Hall (not in the sexy way) on Dexter next season. He'll play a suburban dude with a secret. He's cheating on his wife! Oh, wait, no that would be sorta forgivable. He's a terrible serial killer, actually. [Variety]

Lions Gate doesn't want to run TV Guide all by itself anymore, so they sold 49% of the property to One Equity Partners, for $123 million. And TV Guide is worth every penny, lemme tell ya. [THR]

Eesh, poor Reiko Aylesworth. Floating around for years, never getting the big bite, then her pilot The Forgotten gets picked up and... she's dropped during retooling. Also out is the show's lead, Rupert Penry-Jones. Everyone else seems OK. Phew... [THR]

Sigh. Yep. A press release went out today, describing the horrible lady reality show as such:

A place for power and politics, Bravo is scouting the D.C. area to identify the city's alluring and discriminating residents, those women who have their pulse on the most important cultural events, political galas, gallery openings and fundraisers in Washington society. These leading members of D.C. society are in the know and comfortable discussing everything from the economy to high fashion. They are the talk of the town in the most powerful city in the world.

So basically politics are hot right now, and, with Obama, sort of slightly unruined from all the ruining years past, but now reality TV wants in to ruin it all over again, this time for good. The Housewives will destroy and take over, and what can you do.

We, for one, welcome our new Botox'd overlords.

I don't really know how to "recap" two hours' worth of women sitting and shrieking, so maybe we'll just do a state of the union here. How does everything end?

Jill
Jill came out, mostly, roses in the reunion. Her various rages about tardiness and charity laziness were mostly valid, she made reasonable points. The finale blowdown between Zary and Bethenny seems to have been smoothed over, because those two dizzy broads are thick as thieves and no fight over branding can come between them. And then in the end Jill's wonderful momz was shown in a clip and everyone was reminded that life goes by "in minutes." And maybe somewhere someone sat in shorts on a couch, two weeks away from a scary birthday, the birds and thin bands of sun humming outside, and suddenly he knew exactly what she meant.

Alex
Poor Alex. The thoughtful scarecrow remained mostly mute for the reunion, eyes flicking back and forth like at a Mario tennis match, bewildered pile of hair sitting atop her head, scanning the horizon for any opportunity to swoop in and articulate some grand point. She tried to weigh in on the whole Kelly/Bethenny fracas, and ended up just criticizing Kelly, fairly, for being an idiot who can't do the verbal arithmetic of putting together a legitimate sentence. Everyone seemed to feel bad for Alex, and it made me like her, but who felt most bad was Simon. Simon was standing behind a curtain watching the whole proceedings, the bright glare of stage lights turning him into a crooked silhouette. He mouthed his own responses to the questions and feigned laughs and asides. To be a part of it! To be a real breathing, beating part of this thing! If wishes were horses, his heart would be Assateague. Full and heavy with galloping, snorts of breath, wild mane. A small trail leading down below the waistband, soft hungry-sad brown eyes, perfect plum lips, strong lean arms, a warm salty taste on his... Wait! Horses. Oh dear god, ha ha ha, he's thinking about horses. Nothing else. Absolutely no one, um, nothing else.

Bethenny
Bethenny emerges from the flames mostly unscathed. Not to say that she hasn't come off a bit too harping, a bit too snide. Just that she doesn't really seem to give a shit. She's got her girl J.Z. on her side, and a sort of half-willing ally in LuAnn. Fighting with Kelly is like fighting with a dying stand of pine trees or with a suspicious dog who is blind in one eye and you always see at the top of your street like he is waiting for something (maybe it's you) or with an old shoe that you found behind the bureau when you were moving or with a dead woodchuck. Which is to say, fighting with Kelly is pointless because you'll never get anything in return but frustration and emptiness, a vague sense that the world is playing a mean, strange trick on you. This person can't actually be real, you think to yourself. But she is. Oh, dear souls in heaven, she is. But brave Bethenny persists. She must be tired.

Kelly
As stated above, Kelly is a mostly useless inanimate object. Or maybe inanimate isn't the right word. She's animate, but like an earwig is. An earwig doesn't feel pain or regret, an earwig doesn't make wry jokes over Bordeaux on a snowy night. An earwig is just pesky and kinda gross, and not worth spending more time on than the time it takes to scramble shrieking to the kitchen to get a paper towel so you can go blot the thing out, stuff it up in the paper and throw it in the trash and forget it. Kelly was evasive, as expected, about the twink bashing, and at one point was like "I have a question. Everyone's talking about this and that and this and that and going back and forth and, like... who cares?" Which was a ridiculous, annoying, holier-than-thou-but-in-a-really-dumb-person's-kinda-way thing to say on a reunion special for the goddamned reality show you were just goddamned on. Be of the world, Kelly! It's a way better place than the self-built netherrealm of mirrors that you've been existing in for the past year or so.

Ramona
Speaking of other, fantastical worlds, Ramona took some time away from building her giant clock on the moon to beam down to New York for the reunion special. Mostly she gibbled and garbled and threw her purple features around the room, singing strange Barbados songs and making crazy eyes at everyone. Oh, crazy eyes. Countess Crackerjacks diagnosed Ramona with Oculum déménsium over and over and over again, each time Ramona's eyes getting even wider and crazier, while Andy Cohen felt a strange tingle creeping up his spine and then all of a sudden he couldn't speak and the room was growing swirly and oh god what was that horrible black light creeping up in the corner over there, who is it, why is it coming closer and closer and closer reaching out to him like some wraith of oblivion and oh god I should have been a doct—phew, Ramona blinked. All the bad sensations were gone. Andy sat there, trembling. "I'll tell you about crazy eyes," Ramona muttered. There was a strange silence, like the few seconds right after the sun has set on the wintry tundra. Finally Ramona smiled. She looked around the room. "Isn't Mario handsome?" They all nodded their heads, shivering.

LuAnn
Oh LuAnn. Sure she's sad and getting divorced and who knows if she'll even have a title come the dissolution of the marriage. But she'll always be a Countess, always be our Crackerjacks, in our hearts. She got called out, mostly, for being stuck-up and condescending, and for not practicing what she preaches vis-à-vis her etiquette book. Kelly the Dumb was brave and stupid enough to flat out accuse Lunz of not reading her own book, which was met with hoots and hollers from the other ladies (well, not from Alex, whom I'm pretty sure had either fallen asleep or replaced herself with a dummy stuffed with straw and left at this point), because Kelly, m'dear, you might be right. But you're still the new, worst kid in town, so it'd behoove you to shut yer damn yap. Anyway. After a time Loony just sat back and lit up a cigarette "Can I smoke in here? I can't? Well too damn bad, I'm gonna anyway. You know, friendos, all this bickering. Man it reminds me of my early days in Cee Tee. We bounced around a lot. Up around Meriden for a while. Stayed in Storrs one fall, daddy's conning college students and mama the professors and the deans, threaten to show sexy snaps to their wives. So there was lotsa change, lotsa things stayin' in boxes for years n' years. And I dunno, you get tired, y'know? You get rundown. But you get used to it to, your legs don't feel like they're workin' unless they're movin', unless you got some good old ground goin' underneath your feet. So I guess that's why I went, y'know, why I kept on wenting. Idaho and Big Sky and all them shitty rainy towns they got up there in the State and Or'gon. But you do still keep hopin', you know, you still keep thinkin' this time I'm gonna slow down, this is it, this is the move, this is the little apartment above the laundromat or the chamber of goddamned commerce, this is the one that'll stick. But it never does until it do. Y'know what I mean, Andy? It never does until it do and I thought this one here, this fancy old strange life I'd got goin' over here in New York goddamned City, man, this was gonna be it. But it wasn't and it ain't and that's the breaks. So you over there sparkletits, Kelly or whatever the hell your name is, you can go take a long jog off a short pier. And Ramona, your eyes are crazy 'n you know it. You know it better'n all of us. You found those in some old magic cave about two hundred years ago and they're just keepin' you alive. I don't care. I don't care if you're Gumby wearin' a godammned people suit. I just wish you were honest about it. And you other three? Aw hell, you're all right. But mama, well... Well, mama's got to be goin'. So in closing,"

And then she lifted her leg and farted, long and loud. She cackled once, threw her head back and opened her mouth and sent the sound into the rafters, and then she was gone. Left the back door of the studio slamming shut. There was a revving of engines, and she'd disappeared.

After they'd wrapped up the reunion, Andy went to the bathroom to sob for an hour.

Alex and Simon went home and sat in their sex dungeon and watched their kids play with the antique iron maiden. What a strange life they'd found, strangest of all was that it fit so perfectly. Like a black leather glove.

Bethenny went home and put on her lab coat and her goggles and drew the blinds and went to work in the kitchen trying to concoct a Skinnygirl Cosmo. It was hard work, but she had a calling. There waiting on the mail table was a letter from Oslo. The Nobel committee. Would she be submitting again this year, they wanted to know. She would be. Oh yes, she would be.

Jill called her Mom from the car phone and they made a lunch date. After driving for another minute or two, she yelled "Oh holy Fuck." She pressed three on the speed dial and her little gay house elf friend answered. "Bubbz, I gotta cancel lunch on Thurdsay, I'm sawree." And Bubbz understood. He always does.

Ramona just kicked herself in the behind and flew away into the tinfoil dusk and we all knew, each and every one of us, but especially greedy Kelly the Once-ler, that we never should have cut down her Truffula Trees. Because it was a beautiful world that Ramona had, more beautiful than all the Thneeds in all the land. But now she's gone, and it's too late. Too late as always. So Kelly sits alone in her empty factory, wishing.

And Crackerjacks. They say sometimes that on a crisp night, one of those first crackling autumn nights in October, that you can hear her chuckling on the wind. If you smell an earthy whiff of leaves burning, maybe it's actually her curling cigarette wisps. If you taste the stinging-sweet taste of cooling air in your mouth, maybe it's one of her whiskey drinks. Just last week a small town paper in Muncie, Indiana ran a small article about a mysterious woman who wore a headscarf and rented an apartment above the stationery store. Everyone thought she looked vaguely familiar, but no one could quite place her. After a week, she left, but not before leaving a five hundred dollar tip at the local diner. The young waitress, a sad looking girl with fussy brown hair, was flabbergasted. But even more so when she read the note that the mysterious woman had left with the pile of cash. It read:

I'm you, baby. And you're me. So from one of us to another, a word of advice. Keep lookin' out, kid. Keep movin' on. Keep strong, keep wise, keep sane. And if you see an old rich dude at a bar somewhere nice, and he looks like he needs some company and you just might be the gal to give it to him, you take that chance, honey. You do it, you run with it, you do it all the way. Cause sure it ends, but everything ends. Everything in this rotten, wonderful old world is one day gonna leave you. But no one's gonna blame if you hang on tight for as long as you can.

It's a mechanical bull, baby. This whole thing called living. And, if ya got the thighs for it, it sure is a helluva ride.

Peace and chicken grease,

- C.

Millionaire Matchmaker is: A horrible materialistic show in which Patti Stanger sets ugly rich nerds up with ugly young gold-diggers. Supposedly Patti is using ancient yenta arts, but really she's just throwing a barrel of horrible people into a darkened room and if a match is made, terrif.

This season she introduced her first millionairess—an actual lady looking for love!—and that was a big awesome deal except it didn't really work out because gender roles don't work that way (well, not on cheap reality TV, at least.) But now there's an even bigger shakeup: she's having a GAY millionaire on the show! Like a man what does other men and has at least one million clams in his bank account. So she's herding up some young desperate things who will preen and pout in the hopes of landing sugar daddy and Patti will nod her helmet head and we'll all feel good about the world.

Except it will be terrible, because the very concept of this show—nothing simpler than Love Is Bought—is so repugnantly awful, especially in this economic climate, especially in foreclosure happy and credit crunched southern California. But at least it's progress for the gays. Y'know. One step forward. (A million steps back.)

Shawn Levy's Date Night is going to be star-studded! Tina Fey and Steve Carell were already on board to play a married couple out on their... um... date... night. But the cast will now include Mark Wahlberg as a buff dude who hits on Fey and James Franco as a low-level crook. Also in the cast are Common, Taraji P. Henson, Gossip Girl's Leighton Meester, and Kristen Wiig. Sheesh. [Variety] Speaking of star-studded. Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, John McCain, and Sarah Palin will all be memorialized in TV film form by HBO. The cabler has optioned the book Game Change: Obama and the Clintons, McCain and Palin, and the Race of a Lifetime. A screenwriter (Charles Leavitt, who wrote Blood Diamond, cause, you know, Obama, Africa) is already attached but only one bit of casting has been announced. Sarah Palin will be played by Velma from Scooby Doo. [Variety, Ryan had some thoughts on this last night]

Fan of prancy, dancy figure skater nymphs? Good news for you then! Grand fashion fop of the skating world Johnny Weir will have his own reality series on Sundance. Be Good Johnny Weir will follow the fantasticat and his posse as they prep for the 2010 Olympics. Evidently launching a bid to become as geigh as Bravo, the net has also picked up The Day Before, about what fashion models do 36 hours before they do the world's hardest job, walking in clothes. [Variety] As if regular TV was even relevant anymore! Online audiences are growing by the bushel. Lost alone had 1.4 million unique online viewers last month. Total online video viewership was up 39% from last March. Remember the internet! [Variety]

Showtime has renewed its soft core period drama The Tudors for a fourth and final season. The series' final arc will follow King Henry Rhys Meyers and the last of his two wives, me and then me wearing a wig. We're all very excited about it. [Variety] Ugh, song of purple bummer. Vastly overrated musical Spring Awakening (gorgeous score, fairly limp everything else) might be getting the film treatment. From none other than prestigious director McG. He of the Charlie's Angels and the soon-to-be-seen SkyNet's Devils. The musical is about German teenagers fucking like a million years ago. They wear knickers. And sing pretty songs. And act very, very self-important. [THR]

Wait, I just said TV might not be relevant, right? I was wrong. Bravo, still number one in gaydom, has greenlit a new series that's like its dearly departed Project Runway, but this time stars... celebrities. Launch My Line will follow a bunch of grasping "famous" people (like Tia Mowry maybe, probably Vivica A. Fox at this point, that guy from your bus this morning, a small child [dwarf?] wearing a sailor's hat) who are trying to launch their own clothing line (think: Kathy Ireland ceiling fans). They'll get help from a professional design type. Dear lord I sort of can't wait. [THR]

Other bits: Book McMafia has been nabbed for a movie adaptation. [THR] The Daily Show has added a new correspondent. [THR] And Simon Cowell might leave American Idol. [EW]

Yes, good ole USA Network is busy paying the bills while NBC honcho Ben Silverman naked arm wrestles with people and Lauren Zalaznick at Bravo obsesses over hipsters in Bushwick.

"USA is the single biggest asset that we currently have at this company," an NBC Universal cable exec told the Associated Press.

The network had more viewers than any other cable network in history in the the first quarter. USA and SciFi (soon to be "SyFy") Channel alone threw off $1 billion in profit last year, or about a third of the take for the entire company, which has upwards of eight networks and a studio production operation, among other assets, but which makes two thirds of its TV money off cable channels.

USA "really hit the jackpot," AP writes, on re-runs of shows like House and NCIS. Then there's the booming pro wrestling segment and original USA cop shows like Monk and In Plain Sight.

It's great that the advertising depression is bringing USA good press, because as soon as the easy money returns it's getting sent back to the nerd table with SyFy and the Weather Channel faster than you can say "Walker, Texas Ranger."

NBC Universal, The Weinstein Company and Lifetime have resolved their disputes. The Weinstein Company will pay NBCU for the right to move Project Runway to Lifetime. All of the parties are pleased with the outcome. Harvey Weinstein added, "I want to personally congratulate Jeff Zucker and NBCU on their success in the litigation and thank Jeff for resolving this in a professional manner. We look forward to working together on our ongoing projects."

So this means that the in-question sixth season will actually see the light of day on ladynet Lifetime, though no premiere date has been announced. But still ladies and their gays can breathe some sigh of relief, even if the show had been flailing in recent seasons.

Just to prove that this probably isn't some weird inside-industry April Fools' Day joke (or to trick us more!), Bravo (where the show used to air before the Weinsteins cruelly yanked it away), released info this morning about their new fashion design competition series, The Fashion Show. It's basically the same show, except Isaac Mizrahi and Destiny's Child singer Kelly Rowland are hosting, instead of Heidi and Tim.