I FINALLY FOUND A WAY TO WATCH THE SEX AND THE CITY TRAILER WITHOUT WANTING TO OFF MYSELF!

About a month ago I wrote a little ditty (the post right below) about how watching the trailer for the new Sex and the City movie makes me want to bite into a cyanide pill and blow out my brains Nazi general style (I watched Shutter Island this past weekend).

That opinion still stands -- don't you worry -- but comedy writer Brian Donovan's "What Men Think During Sex and the City" had me hitting repeat on this Godforsaken trailer twice. TWICE!!!

Needless to say it's genius, and if men really think this way then it's time I earn my honorary penis, already.

Enjoy!

Sex And The City 2 Trailer Makes Me Want To Bludgeon Myself

This better be the last sequel of this Sex and the City mess. How many more pink-colored cocktails, cleverly camouflaged girdles and soft lighting can we as a society take? Haven't we suffered enough?

It looks like the superhumanly awesome Penelope Cruz tempts Big (the first smart thing these writers have done in years) Carrie cheats with Aiden, and chipmunk clone Miley Cyrus somehow finds herself wearing sequins, singing and dancing with Samantha. Miley was a zygote when I fell in love with this series. SIGH. I just can't with you, ladies.

Proof 2012 may be exactly as all the naysayers are predicting. The end is nigh.

In other news, it looks like Samantha is downing pills to stop her body from aging and continuing on her sluttery quest fucking tall, dark, handsome things. Samantha Jones might just be the silver lining in this camel cliche.


When is Kim Cattrall getting her own spin-off?

Check Out My Interview With Paul Johnson Calderon

If you've had the pleasure of checking out the CW's High Society, it's likely you've already got a few preconceived notions about the show's drink-throwing, dandy-about-town Paul Johnson Calderon. The 25-year-old former Paper blogger and writer (who's working on his first novel) is High Society's gay boy answer to Ryan Phillippe's Sebastion Valmont in 1999's Cruel Intentions. A good looking, enfant terrible who cavorts about (and stirs up drama) with a glossy crowd who's social contacts and blood lines run deep into the most exclusive circles in New York City.


I had the chance to chat with Calderon about why scruffy downtown boys trump uptown bluebloods, his distaste for LOL and why he hates to make the first move.

Professionally, what are you working on now? I haven't blogged in a while, right now I'm writing a book, which I started in boarding school. It's about coming to New York City, finding love, being broken-hearted, searching for fame, the next party; but it's more of a fictional expose than a memoir.

Lady Gaga Is Annoying

I'm, admittedly, pretty crusty in my music tastes. I rarely scour Pitchfork nor do I shake down the tragically hip for band names to drop when I hang with the cool kids. In a word (or two): I'm lazy. Instead I rely on a stable of classics to get me through the workday and several murderous sweat sessions at the gym.

I'm content with my Bowie, Beatles, Pavement but recently became rather enamored with a certain Lady of Gah. 

Call me closeminded (I blame my tomboy youth) but for the most part, these gooey pop stars are just screeching fembots with nice breasts and silly outfits to me. Nothing less, nothing more. Sadly, I don't spend a great deal of time wondering about Katy Perry or Beyonce or musing on the state of Christina and Britney.

I don't even know if my aforementioned generic choices for "pop stars" are horribly outdated our not. Nor do I care.

However, Lady Gaga had me. There was something different about all her Freddie Mercury theatrics. Me and the gays. We stand. Sit. Mouth. Ajar. Gaaaa Gaaaaaa.

Friday I'm In Love

Most Fridays I'd gladly give up love for a few extra hours of sleep and an extra thousand in the bank, but don't let me ruin it for you.

Visual representation of The Cure's 'Friday I'm In Love.'