Monday, July 29, 2013

Fashion, turn to the left. Fashion, turn to the right.

Oh, Shine... it's adorable that you think you are an authority on anything.   Especially fashion.  And after this article, on logic... or the space time continuum.

The central question posed is:  Has J. Crew become too fashionable?  I submit to you two of the pictures from the article.



Then....
Now.....

The clothes from the Then picture was HIGH FASHION but it was FROM THE 90s.  They don't call it the Flannel Decade for nothing.  Also, that's 23 years ago.  I know this is groundbreaking news but STYLES CHANGE!!!! 

In short, no.  Not at all.  If there is one thing I know to be true, it's that you can never be too thin, too rich, too young, or too fashionable.  If you want J. Crew to keep doing that look, perhaps you should shop at Sears.

And there you have it, your daily snark.

Saturday, July 27, 2013

You Bob for Apples in the Toilet…and You Like It.

It was the movie that defined our generation.

Well, kind of.

While The Sandlot may not have technically defined our generation, it did give us plenty of memorable characters – Squints, Smalls, Wendy Peffercorn, Benny *sigh* – and quotes.

Ah, the quotes. Dare I say that this is one of the most quotable films of all-time? So quotable, that when watching it, I instantly turn into one of those annoying people who recites the dialogue along with the actors on-screen. In fact, let me take this opportunity to apologize to anyone who’s ever had the misfortune of watching this film with me. In my defense, I wasn’t trying to be irritating (for a change); it was just that the movie has so many darn good lines! They demand to be parroted.

Anyway, there’s a nasty rumor circulating that The Sandlot is celebrating its 20th anniversary this year. Obviously this is impossible because that would make me very, very old.

What is true is that some of the actors have been participating in what’s being called an “anniversary tour”, but it must be in celebration of the 5th, maybe 10th, anniversary. Twenty is simply out of the question. 

Back in the day

It was while out celebrating the film’s ambiguous anniversary, that some of the cast ended up back at the Utah sandlot where the film was shot. Unfortunately, however, not all the boys could make it.

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but, sadly, Benny was one who didn’t make the trip. It seems that he’s traded in his PF Flyers for fire boots and now spends his time fighting fires in California. Also not there, were Smalls (how many of you just went, “You’re killing me, Smalls!”?) and, my personal favorite, Wil Horneff, who played the leader of the enemy baseball team.

But before you feed yourself to the Beast in despair over the missing boys, feast your eyes on The Sandlot alum who did bother to show up. 

Ah, how time flies. Can you guess who's who? (Answers below.)

Some look exactly the same and some look, well, terrifying. (I’m looking at you, Yeah-Yeah. Looks like someone may’ve been injecting himself with a substance that rhymes with pearmoids.)



It’s fun to see the little guys all grown up, but to me they’ll always be that group of kids who tricked a lifeguard and foiled a beast all those years ago. The problem is, every time I watch the movie, I revert to that middle school girl who had a bit of a crush on one or two of them. I get older, but they stay cute. Do you think this is a problem? Should I be worried?

Is it weird? Gross? Illegal?

Probably (weird, not illegal), but it is what it is. The fact remains that my love for these boys will most likely last until the end of time.

Or, more appropriately, FOR-E-VER.

Thursday, July 25, 2013

By George, I Think They’ve Named Him!

How many times have you heard that line in the last 15 minutes?

And baby makes three

Well, they did it. They named their baby. You may have mistakenly thought that this child found the cure for cancer – or, at the very least, unseemly body odor – from all the publicity he’s getting. But, no, all he’s done is a) be born – something that, literally, every other person in the history of the world has also achieved – and b) have a name bestowed upon him. A name, by the way, that I’m fairly certain is usually reserved for short, neurotic, bald men and monkeys.

For as modern as the royal family likes to pretend they are, when it comes to naming their kids, they apparently still pull out their dust-covered copies of The Complete Book of Antiquated Baby Names. Listen, I’m all for using old, family names, but George Alexander Lois Middleton (the Middleton is silent)? Or, if you want to get technical, His Royal Highness Prince George of Cambridge? It’s quite the mouthful for such a little guy. But, then, that’s how the royals roll.

It was as I was venting to my ATG copilot about what a strange name choice Kate and her husband had made (okay, so maybe I used the word stupid), that she reminded me that George was the name the Queen’s beloved father took when he became king, which means that this was actually a stellar political move – and that’s what the Middletons are all about. It’s how their eldest daughter achieved her position in life. Well-played on their part.

Some might say we’re too skeptical. I’d say we simply know how to read people.

Another strange (read: stupid) Katenia event of late has been the praise she’s received for her “bravery” in leaving the hospital in a dress that showed her after-baby bump. Seriously, I’ve actually seen the word brave used.

  Rosa Parks, Amelia Earhart, Joan of Arc and Kate Middleton. All such brave women. 

Soldiers are brave. Firefighters are brave. An adored-by-the-masses princess who could wear a potato sack and be applauded for her creativity, innovation, and frugality? I wouldn’t exactly call her brave. Especially when her hair and makeup team was snuck into the hospital to make sure she looked her best upon exiting the building. Listen, I’m not judging her for that. Honestly. If I knew my image was going to be immortalized for the entire world to scrutinize and dissect for generations to come, I, too, would want to look my best. All I’m saying is, she probably doesn’t deserve any medals for getting up and getting dressed. Besides, the fact that she still had a baby bump the day after giving birth has nothing to do with courage. It's biology.

But, back to her dress. It was cute. I like polka dots. You know who else apparently liked polka dots? Princess Diana, who also wore a polka-dotted dress to introduce her firstborn son to the world. And it’s because of this, that the world is now convinced that Kate was paying silent homage to her late mother-in-law with her wardrobe choice. I’m not saying that this wasn’t another calculated move on her part – in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the only moves she and her family know how to make are the calculating kind – but, c’mon! Isn’t it just as likely that she found a dress she liked – that fit – and decided to wear it? 

This is getting a little Single White Female...

And while we’re on the topic of crazy, I actually read a comment from a woman saying that Kate looked better leaving the hospital than this woman did on her wedding day. I hope she was being hyperbolic, but, regardless, it’s sad. Kate looked good. I’ll give her that. But, folks, that’s her job. Her job is to look good. The royal family serves very little purpose anymore besides showing up to events while simultaneously looking good. That’s it. That’s all they do – some are just better at it than others.

And for the record, I’d also like to point out that my mom looked pretty darn good after giving birth to all of her children (I’ve seen pictures) and she didn’t, to my knowledge, have either a hairstylist or makeup artist on staff.

The point is, we give these royals too much credit. Did Kate look nice? Yes. Was she the most beautiful woman to ever leave a hospital? Uh, no. Could many women, with access to a beauty team like Kate’s, look almost as good or better? Probably.   

But that’s not the point. The point is that Kate had a baby. And she named him George.

George.

I’m still having trouble with his chosen moniker (which is probably why his parents didn’t ask for my opinion). A man named George isn’t so bad, but a baby? As my witty writing partner said, “This kid is prematurely 80, diabetic, and hard of hearing!”

Yep, I think that about sums it up.

Monday, July 22, 2013

It Must Be a Boy because I'm Feeling Quite Blue

Today was a Monday in every sense of the word: It was nearly impossible to get up this morning. Work was a doozy. AND THEN, the royal layabout – sorry, let me clarify: the newest royal layabout (I forgot I had to be specific when discussing lazy royals) – finally made his appearance. Did you catch that? His appearance.

Yes, in case by some miracle you haven’t heard, Kate Middleton and her husband had a boy.

Obviously I knew this moment was inevitable. Kate couldn’t very well gestate her baby forever. But this child was the most overpublicized fetus in history. I can’t imagine what we’re in for now that he’s actually wheels down.  

And, it appears that just like was the case with his grandparents, the frenzied excitement surrounding the birth of Baby Boy Cambridge has less to do with the delivery of an heir and more to do with the delivery of the Most Amazing Woman in the World’s son. Sure, he may someday be king, but what’s more important is that he shares DNA with BOTH Kate and Diana. Could this child get any luckier?!

No word yet on what the genetically gifted tot’s name is, but that’s pretty much in keeping with royal tradition. They like to keep secrets; it makes them feel superior. William’s name wasn’t revealed to the peons until a week after his birth and Charles’s wasn’t revealed for an entire month. So, for now, we wait for the blessed day when the Prince of Cambridge’s Christian name is revealed, content in the fact that we are alive to witness such greatness. What stories we’ll be able to tell our children and grandchildren about the day the most important child in the history of the world (sorry Jesus) was born, the day the Prince of Cambridge graced us with his presence!

The Prince of Cambridge. The boy who would be king.

Maybe.

If his parents and grandparents don’t screw it up first.

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Let’s Use Our Heads, People.
It’s the Lump Three Feet Above Our Asses.

I didn’t think it was possible, but the royal baby frenzy has gotten even more insane over the last couple of days. Basically every other story on my Yahoo! daily newsfeed has something to do with the forthcoming royal baby. And since the news outlets have essentially no new information, instead of writing about the 1,000s of truly newsworthy things happening in our world, they choose to write about royal-related nothingness.

Here are just a few of the recent headlines:

“Inside the Lindo Wing, Where Kate May Give Birth”
She may, she may not. Doesn’t really matter, as long as they can put “Kate” and “birth” in the headline.

“William First in Royal Family to Get Perk”
Spoiler alert: It’s paternity leave.

“Is Kate Middleton Trying to Fake Us Out?
This highly informative article centers on all the things we don’t know: birth hospital, due date, baby name, baby gender, etc. Is Kate choosing not to reveal any of this because she’s trying to create mystery? Or, perhaps, it’s because the royals have decided it’s not any of our business. We’re not their family. We’re not their friends. We simply don’t matter to them. In fact, we’re not even on their radar.

“Where’s that Royal Baby? Is Kate Overdue?”
I can see why this would make it on the front page since Kate is the only woman who’s ever gone past her (alleged) due date.

“Royal Baby Frenzy: Queen Elizabeth’s Cousin Is Not Impressed”
Finally. Someone with a little perspective.

Then there was the story about how the fire department had to be called to what was believed to be the Middletons’ house to get the head of what was believed to be Kate and William’s dog, Lupo, out of the gate it was stuck in.

And the report that Queen Elizabeth left a cricket match early, which of course meant Kate was in labor. It was the only logical explanation. Except, wait, that was Thursday. So, where’s the baby? The birth announcement? The 62-gun salute? Oh, right. It was another false alarm.

But my favorite happened today outside of St. Mary’s Hospital, where Kate is expected to give birth. Much to the surprise of all the anxious onlookers camped out outside, a dark car pulled up to the curb and Kate and William popped out! In front of everyone! Just like that. William protectively ushered his very pregnant wife past the gawking masses to the front door of the hospital. And as the frenzied crowd began moving towards them, William and Kate turned around, busted open their top layer of clothing and revealed t-shirts advertising The Sun.

Wait, what?

I know what you’re thinking. It doesn’t make sense. Why would William and Kate be working for The Sun? They can barely be bothered to do their real jobs.

  What is that girl doing on her phone? Doesn't she know the greatness directly behind her? They are to be worshiped, not ignored!    

I’m sure you’ll be surprised to hear that it wasn’t actually the Cambridges. Just a couple of lookalikes hired by The Sun. Shocking, I know. But don’t worry, folks, I’m sure that when the real Kate goes into labor, she too will be ushered in through the front doors of the hospital for the entire world to see, because, you know, the royals care nothing about privacy.

 I mean, it could've been them. It wasn't, but let's don't get bogged down with facts.  

Listen, I understand that people got caught up in the moment, but let’s just think this through logically for a second. IF Kate delivers at St. Mary’s, I’m fairly certain they’ll bring her in through an underground labyrinth that requires blood samples and retina scans to get through each steel-infused security door. They’re sure as heck not going to bring her in the FRONT DOOR!

People are excited. I get it. (Kind of.) But the reality is, it’s a baby. And it will still be a baby, and still just as interesting – which is to say, not very – tomorrow and the day after. He or she will be the topic of news stories for years and years and years to come.

All I’m saying is this: Don’t overexert yourself. Pace your hysteria.

It would be an awful shame to burn yourself out on this kid before (s)he’s even on the ground.    

Friday, July 19, 2013

Gaze Into My Swarovski Crystal Ball

At the risk of sounding like one of the narcissistic divas that ATG loves to criticize, let me just say that you, my friends, are very lucky. Why, you ask? Because you’ve discovered this little gem called All That Glitters. Now, I know that sentence does in fact sound highly narcissistic, but bear with me as I clarify. It’s not just because ATG is insightful, clever, and highly entertaining (although, duh, it’s all of those things), but because ATG is clairvoyant.

There are plenty of examples of this – you need only read over past entries to know it’s true – but for now I’m just going to focus on one: a Boyfriend. You may remember that late last year, ATG made Henry Cavill – who was, at the time, a B-level celebrity at best – a Boyfriend. (If you don’t remember, you can read about it here.) You may also remember that we predicted that his rise to fame would be faster than a speeding bullet. (Get it? Because he plays Superman? Okay, I’ll stop now.)

Well, just call us Nostradamus because in the last few weeks, I’ve noticed that our Man of Steel has been the topic of quite a few conversations. Yes, I’ve heard many a woman (and a man or two) – in various age brackets – discussing Henry’s many positive (physical) attributes. In fact, he’s so popular, that the instructor of one of my recent workout classes spent an entire routine discussing his epic appeal.

It’s not so hard to understand why. He’s yummy and British. It makes total sense that the world is finally starting to take notice. Just like we told you it would. What I can’t explain, however, is why it took the world so long to notice this fine specimen, while punks like Justin Bieber and Kanye West got more and more famous. Some mysteries just can’t be solved – even with a crystal ball. 

Let me get this straight: He's faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound AND he grocery shops?!

Our Hunk of Steel is also, fun fact, recently single again, after a whirlwind publicity stunt romance with The Big Bang Theory’s Kaley Cuoco. Fortunately, her loss is our gain. And, because I’ve been told I look like her (and because I’m slightly delusional), I’m fairly certain that soon, this ATG boyfriend will become a real-live boyfriend for yours truly. 

  Okay, so they were kind of cute together. 

But don’t worry, friends. This new position of mine won’t affect ATG in the slightest. For, as long as lazy, spoiled, overrated, fake-tanning folks abound, ATG will be here to judge them.

And, for that, you’re welcome.

(Okay, so maybe that last bit was slightly narcissistic.)

Jenny on the Block

Well, it had to happen eventually, I suppose. When you take a former Playboy model who looks like Barbie but acts like a dude and introduce her to an aging, rattail-loving boy bander, and then immediately tell them to lie horizontally, give them lollipops to suck on and encourage them to “talk dirty,” sparks are probably going to fly.

It’s almost inevitable. The 90’s gods practically require it.

And so it was that our Boyfriend, Donnie Wahlberg came to be dating Jenny McCarthy.


I’ll admit that when I first heard this news, it struck me as strange. They just seemed like an odd coupling choice – not odd enough to land on the list, but still a bit bizarre. But, after further consideration (because, really, what else do I have going on in my life besides obsessively dissecting every detail of this relationship) I have to begrudgingly admit that they actually kind of make sense. 
  1. They’re both divorced parents. 
  2. Neither one seems particularly tall – or interested in talking about much more than their bedroom and/or bathroom activities. 
  3. She’s blonde (it may not be natural, but I’m pretty sure nobody dates Jenny McCarthy for her natural look), which his track record proves that he prefers (because he’s a gentleman?). 
  4. And, let’s be honest, he (along with half of the men in this country and abroad) was able to see her boobs without ever having to buy her dinner. What guy doesn’t like that deal?
So, you see, they really make sense.

And now that she’s taking over for Joy Behar on The View, she’ll have the ultimate platform to reveal all kinds of inappropriate details about their relationship (quite possibly involving both bedroom and bathroom activities). No one will see it, of course, because, really, who watches The View, but if it’s juicy enough, we’ll all hear about it. Over and over and over.

Good luck with that one, Donnie. I have a feeling you’re going to need it. 

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Thanks a lot, Woody Allen

As we wait with bated breath for word that the most overrated woman in the world has finally dropped the most overrated baby, I’ve made the brave decision to carry on with life as usual. Yes, it’s exceedingly difficult to not obsessively hit refresh on my Google newsfeed, waiting anxiously for word that the world has finally been blessed with yet another parasitic progeny, but being an adult means oftentimes having to make the tough choices.

It was because of this heroism that I decided to leave my house on Sunday.

And, because he worried that, if left alone, I would continue to hit refresh on my phone incessantly, resulting in painful carpal tunnel, my dad decided to come with me. We were sitting side-by-side when it occurred to me that, though he’s 35 years my senior, thanks to the Woody Allens and Hugh Hefners of the world, people might come to the oh-so-incorrect conclusion that my dad and I were together. As in a couple. Yuck and yuck.  

We look somewhat similar, so I would hope that people would realize we’re related; however, it’s been said that people tend to be attracted to, and enter into relationships with, people who look similar to them. I can barely tolerate seeing my face on one person; I can’t imagine having to see it on two people (of course, I’m not a giant narcissist) but apparently this is a real phenomenon. Just ask Chris and Gwyneth.

The truth is, I’m not really into older dudes. I just can’t imagine ever dating/marrying a man old enough to be my father – especially when he is my father. Unfortunately, Woody Allen set a terrible precedent on this one as well.

And now, forevermore, a daughter’s relationship with her father is slightly tainted. At least in the eye of a confused public.

Thanks for nothing, Woody Allen.

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Blame It on the (Golden) Showers

We have failed you, but it wasn’t intentional.

Blame it on work. Blame it on life. Blame it on the rain.

Actually, no, blame it on Kim Kardashian and the innocent byproduct of her poor life choices, Baby Kimye (whose real name is North West, by the way. They literally named their baby after a compass. This stuff practically writes itself).

It was our distraction with this ever-present train wreck that resulted in our complete and utter failure to keep you abreast of all things royal. And even if the Westdashians’ guilt couldn’t technically be proven beyond all reasonable doubt in a court of law, I’m fairly certain that nearly every negative thing in life is a result, either directly or indirectly, of Kim Kardashian.

BUT, it doesn’t really matter who’s to blame (although it’s still totally KK’s fault), the fact remains that there was a royal wedding…and we went nearly a month without reporting on it. The shame is only heightened by the fact that it was a real royal family, not some weird, under-the-radar royal family from a country you only hear about on Jeopardy.

Sadly, you still may not be aware of these recent nuptials, as they didn’t happen to a British royal and, you know, those Windsors are the only ones that really matter. How can the press possibly be expected to report on Sweden’s royals when Kate Middleton got up and put clothes on this morning? Over a baby bump! Does her talent know no bounds?! She is such an inspiration!

But this post isn’t about Kate or the royal family she invaded. No, this is Sweden’s turn in the spotlight. And Princess Madeleine shone brightly as she married her commoner husband in June. (Clearly the princess is obsessed with the Cambridges. I mean, first she copies their engagement-photo pose and then she chooses a spouse whose blood doesn’t run blue. The only difference is, Maddie married someone who knows how to work.)


The groom? A British-born, Manhattan-based banker named Chris O’Neill, whom the Swedish beauty apparently met in the Big Apple after fleeing there in an attempt to escape a broken heart (even princesses get cheated on). And escape it she did, in the arms of an average joe.

The two married at the Royal Palace, in front of many of the world’s royals and socialites, in a lavish wedding fit for a king. Or princess. The extravagant nuptials were then followed by a carriage ride through the capital and a public kiss. (Who does that remind you of? This obsession is getting creepy.)

Despite the wedding, Mr. Princess Madeleine of Sweden remains about as common as they come – for a successful, New York businessman, of course – as he apparently chose not to take a title, not wanting to become a Swedish citizen. He has, however, opted to wear a wedding ring, unlike other British-born grooms we know.


So, what now for these two? It’s said that they will soon return to their lives in Manhattan – and their jobs. Hmm, royal consorts who work?

Inconceivable!