RVANews

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Smells like Teen Spirit. And Prozac.

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 08 Nov 2010 17:00:29 +0000

This week, Disney darling Demi Lovato checked herself into a "treatment facility" for "physical and emotional issues." Lovato is the star of the Camp Rock movies and television series Sonny With A Chance, as well as being a pop singer who is currently on tour with the Jonas Brothers, one of whom she was formerly romantically involved with. That's a lot on the plate of someone who also has to deal with being an 18-year-old, a time when figuring out who you are is a full-time job. Lindsay Lohan has been there. Britney Spears has been there. Miley Cyrus IS there. All for Disney, by the way.

Being the mother of a 15-year-old girl, I decided it was time for a talk with her about "physical and emotional issues" and, while 15 is a little older than the target audience for the current lineup that consists of things like Wizards of Waverly Place, Suite Life on Deck, Jonas L.A., Hannah Montana, in our house, we're all fans of the brightly-colored mind candy that Disney Channel offers. Yes, even the 17-year-old boy. Don't tell him you know that.

"Of course she has problems. She's a cutter," my daughter said when I brought up Demi's hospitalization, "Everybody knows that."

I didn't know that.

Ten seconds of Google, and she'd pulled up numerous pictures of Lovato, many in long sleeves or wearing just one arm warmer, several with red scratches on her arms. It should have been obvious to anyone with five minutes of experience with teenagers that this girl had a problem. So why wasn't it obvious to a network that specializes in employing teens?

Or was it?

These kids have stylists, so who dressed her in one arm warmer? Was Disney covering up a psychological issue for profit? I don't know. The best case scenario is that someone wasn't paying attention.

But can we really give them the benefit of the doubt on this one? After all, since Miley Cyrus has been carrying the hugely popular Hannah Montana franchise (estimated by People Magazine to be worth more than $1 billion), she's been courting scandal like a middle-aged man courts a TGIFriday's waitress at closing time on a Tuesday. First, at 14, there were the pictures leaked of her sexily sharing a piece of licorice with a friend like a human girl-on-human girl version of Lady and the Tramp. Then, at 15, there was the photo shoot with Annie Leibovitz for Vanity Fair where she appeared topless, though her representatives insist that photos were just meant to imply toplessness. Next, at 16, there was the 2009 Teen Choice Awards performance that included a whole little clothing and a whole lotta pole dancing. That same year, TMZ leaked a video of Miley giving a lap dance to the producer of her movie, The Last Song. And don't forget the tattoos and older boyfriends. Sure she's ranked number thirteen on Forbes' list of 100 most influential celebrities of 2010, but she might need a teensy bit more guidance to stay on top. Or out of jail.

Naturally, some of what child stars go through is your average, every day teen angst. But there's a difference between a normal teen taking the time to sulk in her bedroom for days, nursing her first broken heart, and a famous one having her humiliation known worldwide within minutes. She's got phones ringing off the hook with reporters wanting a statement, and paparazzi hiding outside wanting a picture of her looking miserable, instead of just being able to slam the door to her room and scream "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Of course, Disney isn't a charity. Just because they specialize in entertainment for children doesn't mean they aren't in it to make money, same as everybody else. And these girls have parents who should see their own offspring struggling before anybody else. But you'd think that Disney and parents alike would work to keep them up and running, if for no other reason than a healthy child star is worth more than an ill one. But, more altruistically, because there is a whole world full of girls, like my daughter, who are savvy enough to know when someone they see on television is battling demons and, if they aren't encouraged to get help, might not think it's important for themselves to get help for the same problems. I'm glad Demi Lovato took it upon herself to get help, and disappointed in Disney for continuing to milk struggling cash cows. Because they don't make sleeves to cover dead eyes and empty souls. Let's get Rachel Zoe on that.

The Checkout Girl can usually be found with either her laptop or blackberry attached to her fingertips, updating her twitter feeds as @thecheckoutgirl and @fyeahmotherhood. She also shares adventures beyond the 140 at fuckyeahmotherhood.com. She is writing both a book about her experience as an "adult entertainer" and a show based on her column 100 Bad Dates which will be debuting in a living room near you. Some day. If you met her, you'd never know, because she is secretly nice. And not blond or hot.

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Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Fatties need love, too

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 16:00:21 +0000

Are fat people the last safe group to hate? Turn on Comedy Central, sign on to twitter, listen to people at the next table in a restaurant (it's called eavesdropping and it's perfectly legal, thank you), and you'd think so. It seems it's become uncool for all but the edgiest of comedians to pick on every other group of people, but, for some reason, the overweight are fair game for just about everyone.

At first I thought I might be imagining it, or maybe just oversensitive because, you know, I'm fat. But it's real. And it's not just fellow fat people who are making fun, in that oh-so-endearing, self-deprecating manner we've all come to expect and appreciate from those who know they are the world's punchline and demonstrate bitter good humor about it. No, un-big people are throwing around "fat" and "fatty" like nobody's business. I guess their mamas never taught them to talk behind people's backs, like polite folk do.

Last week, the rumblings of fat hate stuck their head above ground like a lookout at Meerkat Manor when Maura Kelly, a regular blogger for marieclaire.com (the online version of the print magazine), posted a piece called Should 'Fatties' Get A Room? (Even On TV?) Ms. Kelly claims the post grew out of a conversation with her editor, where she was asked "Do you really think people feel uncomfortable when they see overweight people making out on television?" after reading a CNN.com article that centered around the CBS sitcom "Mike & Molly". For those of you who don't know, "Mike & Molly" is about a couple who meet at an Overeaters Anonymous group and fall in love. It's rife with fat jokes in a way that says "There's no other way for us to make this romance palatable except with a big, fat, jolly wink." Anyway, Maura Kelly (very thin judging by her picture, by the way), being "not much of a TV person", decided to check out the show and make own mind up about the whole issue.

"My initial response was: Hmm, being overweight is one thing — those people are downright obese!"

The exclamation point indicates surprise, whereas I suspect that quite a few attendees of Overeaters Anonymous meetings are obese and would expect such a thing. She goes on to say she doesn't advocate obsession with physical perfection, but the show is "implicitly promoting obesity." In what way? In that it's hilarious?

"So anyway, yes, I think I'd be grossed out if I had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other ... because I'd be grossed out if I had to watch them doing anything. To be brutally honest, even in real life, I find it aesthetically displeasing to watch a very, very fat person simply walk across a room — just like I'd find it distressing if I saw a very drunk person stumbling across a bar or a heroine [sic] addict slumping in a chair."

"Aesthetically displeasing"? "Distressing?" I can't figure out why in the world either of these phrases would apply to that situation. Don't people turn away, anymore? Why would you feel distressed about something you could just as easily not see?

Blahblahblah "I have a few friends who could be called plump" (cue collective "pinch an inch" moments among her besties) blahblahblah "I know how tough it can be" (cue big question mark over my head) blahblahblah "obesity is something that most people have a ton of control over. It's something they can change, if only they put their minds to it." Oh, THAT'S the problem, fatties, YOUR MIND ISN'T TO IT! She goes on to give nutrition and fitness suggestions for anyone who is willing to try to change. But it's the last line that really gets me.

"Then again, I guess these characters are in Overeaters Anonymous. So ... points for trying?"

Actually, NOT the last line. Just the last piece of punctuation. It's like saying "points for trying... I guess." Look, you want those fatties to slim down and be more aesthetically pleasing, or what?

It's important to note that, after a considerable uproar in all corners of the media, Maura Kelly has posted an apology? (see what I did there?) She said she is sorry for being insensitive and that, for what it's worth, she feels just as uncomfortable seeing anorexic people as she does the obese. She also says that she has history as an anorexic and a life-long obsession with being thin and thinks that might have contributed to her "extreme reaction".

I just wonder how acceptable the post would have been about another group of people. How much more would we have heard about it if she were talking about an ethnic group? Or a handicap? Or a sexual identity? Would the post still be standing, with just an apology tacked on to the end? Of course not. We should probably ask ourselves why, it's okay to make the overweight the big, fat butts of jokes. After all, fatties need love, too.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Purple is the new pink

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 25 Oct 2010 15:50:03 +0000

Retweet if you have a gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgendered friend in your life that you love & accept unconditionally.

On Wednesday, Wear Purple and Say no to hate!

Please put this on your status if you know or love someone who is gay. My wish for 2010 is that people will understand that being gay is not a disease nor a choice - people who are gay are not looking for a cure but ACCEPTANCE and EQUAL RIGHTS... 93% won't copy and paste this. Will you make it your status for at least ...one hour? ...Promote LOVE & Acceptance, not hate!

Remember the Facebook game last year where women would post about what color bra they were wearing? The purpose was to draw attention to October being Breast Cancer Awareness month, and it was a tremendous success: we had men wondering "What's with the colors?" for days, and it even made it to the news.

This year's game has to do with where we put our handbag the moment we get home. For example "I like it on the couch", "I like it on the kitchen counter", "I like it on the dresser"... you get the idea. Just put your answer as your status with nothing more than that, cut and paste this message and forward to all your FB female friends to their inbox. The bra game made it to the news. Let's see how powerful we women really are!!! REMEMBER - DO NOT PUT YOUR ANSWER AS A REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE- PUT IT IN YOUR STATUS!!! PASS THIS TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW!

ac-tiv-ism
–noun
1. the practice of vigorous action or involvement as a means of achieving political or other goals, sometimes by demonstrations, protests, etc.

in-ac-tiv-ism
-noun
1. discussing the practice of vigorous action or involvement as a means of achieving political or other goals, sometimes by demonstrations, protests, etc. as if one might participate in such a thing. Ultimately, though, there is no action or involvement.

Sporting a magnetic ribbon on your car? Drinking from a coffee mug with a strong social message? Wearing rubber bracelets that state your beliefs, rather than the sexual acts in which you're proficient? Now, did you obtain those things without participating in, volunteering for, or donating to any cause, whatsoever? Congratulations! You're an inactivist!

And, thanks to the Internet, we have to do even less than go out and buy those ribbons, mugs, and bracelets in stores that also sell pork cracklins and cigs. The World Wide Web makes it easier than ever to be a true blue, dedicated inactivist, without ever leaving the house. We mindlessly forward emails about "awareness" of one thing or another. We retweet something in "support" of some cause. We copy and paste a Facebook update that says "do something!" without actually doing anything. We are outraged. We are radical. We are pushers of buttons.

Is there anything wrong with pushing buttons? Of course not. There's nothing inherently evil about sticking a few feel-goody shout-outs that say "We love you, people who are struggling!" between Farmville updates and pictures of your children, but it's so easy to fool ourselves into thinking we've helped a cause with these things when, in reality, we haven't at all.

I wore purple to work last Wednesday. Because it was easy. And I had it. And it was easy. And I didn't see one teen in the store, gay or not. And lots of people I know wore purple to the offices where they work where they see the same coworkers every day... who are not gay teens. But I did it just in case -- just in case someone came in who might, by chance, need an ally, someone to talk to, hug, or just exchange a smile with. And it was easy. But I didn't tell myself I'd done something big. Instead, I went home, having been completely impactless, made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then went online and gave the twenty bucks I could have easily spent on dinner to Gay Community Center of Richmond (GayRichmond.com), an organization that, according to their website, "serves Central Virginia's Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender communities with cultural and social programming, events, and information." Do I think I changed the world? Or saved someone in crisis? No. Do I think it was more effective than a purple cardigan? I don't see how it couldn't be.

And, instead of playing the sexually-charged "Handbag Game", supposedly geared toward raising awareness about breast cancer, that dominated my Facebook News Feed a couple of weeks ago with "I like it on the microwave" (which really, really doesn't sound at all arousing or safe), I called a friend who just finished radiation treatments. Besides, answer me this, why would something created to "raise awareness" also boast that last year "we had men wondering for days"? Breast cancer affects the men who love us, as well. Our husbands, sons, fathers, and brothers deserve to be aware, don't they? Why be coy about cancer? Isn't pinkifying everything sort of shutting them out in the first place? Shouldn't we welcome them as our allies and respect that they experience pain when their loved ones suffer?

Speaking of awareness, aren't we aware? We are aware that gay teens are bullied, mercilessly, and about 30 percent consider suicide. We are aware that the chance of a woman having invasive breast cancer some time during her life is about 1 in 8, and the chance of dying from breast cancer is about 1 in 35. We are aware. Can we move on from awareness to action? Even action so small as to have a talk with our children about why it's important to be kind to others and defend those that feel powerless. Even an action so small as to ask our doctors to show us how to do a breast self exam and performing it monthly. Even an action so small as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I'll bet that if we each found a cause we felt passionately about, button-pushers could change the world.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Is that a pigskin in your pocket?

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 18 Oct 2010 16:00:41 +0000

Well, we supposedly saw quarterback Brett Favre's penis, via the magic of the Internet. I think I speak for a lot of people when I say "shrug." Now, I'm not talking about the absolute average-ness of it, physically. Not every man can be John Holmes and not every lady wants that, anyway. Why buy long grain rice when arborio is just as good and cooks faster, if you know what I mean. What I'm all meh about is the fact that, if the evidence including those pictures, plus some MySpace (holla!) messages and cell phone voice mails, proves to be genuine, he'll join the growing list of male celebrities who use their fame as a ladymagnet. The biggest difference with Favre though is that the alleged recipient wasn't really down for the get down. Jenn Sterger, a former Maxim and Playboy model and, at the time of the maybe sexting, a sideline reporter for Favre's team, the New York Jets, tells a story of repeatedly rejecting his advances, which escalated with each attempt.

Ok, it's not terribly surprising that Brett would think Jenn would be excited to get a piece of his action. It was 2008 and he'd just left Green Bay, where all the ladies were sweating cheddar for a taste of his fondue, and was probably feeling like a big fish. But the whole interaction feels more Ben Roethlisberger than Tiger Woods. For those of you who don't know, Roethlisberger has been twice accused of sexual aggressiveness, while Woods has had over a dozen women come forward and confess to consensual sex with him. According to Gawker's sports site, Deadspin, the MySpace messages were first, including one that says he saw her "in the tunnel" and got her name from someone at the Jets' organization. The next one states that one of the team's PR guys would be in touch with her to either slip her his number or get hers.

Then, she gets the first voice mail:

Jenn, it's not a set up. Just got done with practice. Umm, got meetings here and I’ll pull out a couple of more hours and I’m going back to the hotel and just – just chill, so, ah, send me a text, cause I’ll be in the building, for a couple of hours, love to have you come over tonight, but ah, I know ah, I think Aron came up and asked you ah, would give – you know, your number, or he was going to give you my number, but I understand. Send me a text, love to to see you tonight, alright, talk to you later. Bye.

She then says that she was approached by someone who wanted to set her up with Favre and she declined, joking that if she were to get involved with him, she might end up in a garbage can. The next voice mail has a different tone:

So, some garbage can, huh, so that’s what you think that I think of you. Huh, well I’m still trying, just got done with practice – I’ll try again at home. You probably got caller I.D. I think but if you can make it, it would be great. Alright, later.

Then, the now infamous and viral pictures of SOMEONE'S junk. Is it Favre's junk? Only he and his wife know for sure. What? He's married? Yes. Which puts a double-disturbo spin on the whole thing.

It's important to point out that Brett Favre hasn't commented on the allegations that he sniffed Crazy Glue and then got all obsess-y over Jenn Sterger, but I'm sure that some high-powered lawyers (divorce or otherwise) are working on the situation as we speak. I do know that two more women have come forward and claimed that they also received inappropriate, sexually-charged text messages from Favre.

Why wait until two years later to talk about any of these things? I don't know. Maybe it took that long to get brave, maybe it took that long to doctor voice mails and Photoshop MySpace messages. I do know that Favre's silence is being likened to guilt by some and that the late night comedians and many Twitterers are having a field day, making fun of it. Which is good, because I'm sick of Christine O'Donnell jokes and there hasn't been a good celebrity death in too, too long. However, I just learned that David Arquette was cheating on Courtney Cox with a woman who looks like Courtney Cox and once punched Lindsay Lohan. Thanks, universe.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Now with more moobs!

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 04 Oct 2010 16:00:35 +0000

Denial is a funny thing. I mean, I had really buried the thought pretty well, way way near the back of my mind, underneath the fact that my car needs an oil change and next to the name that Elon Burns called me in seventh grade. It was deep but still it whispered to me, insistently. "It. Is. Coming." a small voice said, and all the Katrina and the Waves I could sing wasn't enough to drown it out. What is it? I'll give you a hint. I hate it more than anything and it's not the stupid commercial where the lady is on the phone bragging about how she lost weight eating chocolate cake and coconut cream pie and then you find out she's talking about dessert-flavored yogurt and you want to yell out "YOU LIE" but remember you LOST your congressional bid so you just change the channel to Nick at Nite because it's time for The Nanny and you don't want to miss that theme song because it's aces. Yes, folks, it's the holiday season to which I'm referring and, while you think you have plenty of time to get ready, you don't. And if you were here right now, I would slap you across the face dramatically, ala Dynasty, and tell you to wake up because IT'S OCTOBER.

So, here we are, caught somewhere between summer and fall, burning heat and chilly breezes, Daylight Saving and whatever you call just regular old time, the moon and New York City. And, frankly, it's an emotional roller coaster. But, while you're deciding between the Antoine Dodson and the Mark Zuckerberg costumes for Halloween 2010, let me give you some tasty little candy corn-shaped nuggets of pop culture to chew on. They're low in nutritional value, but what else were you going to do with the next five minutes? Look up your ex on Facebook?

First, did you guys hear about this thing between comedian Marc Maron and former GOP chairman Ken Mehlman? The deal is that Mehlman was a big cheese in George Bush's administration, which was strongly anti-LGBT, but has now come out as gay. Maron ended up sitting next to Mehlman on an airplane and live-tweeted the flight (ah, Twitter, you never let me down), including a few pictures of him next to the sleeping politician. In the shot seen 'round the world, Marc Maron has his own shirt unbuttoned and pulled open to reveal mannipple and Ken Melhman's face in the same picture. Some people are calling the non-scandal "nipplegate". Some are using the term "Maroning" to describe the new fad of capturing your areola and an unsuspecting person in the same frame. I am using this column to warn my friends that the idea makes me giggle and they are in no way safe from a twitpic along the same lines.

Oh, and guess what? Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi, of Jersey Shore fame, got a book deal! She's writing a romance called A Shore Thing about a girl looking for love. At the Jersey Shore. She's super excited about it, admitting that she had only READ a book for the first time earlier this year. If you're waiting for the punch line, there isn't one. I can only hope the book is as entertaining as Nicole Richie, Lauren Conrad, and Pamela Anderson's fiction masterpieces, which I may or may not have read. Ah, to be her ghost writer. What? You thought? Doubtful.

Tony Curtis, Stephen J. Cannell, and Greg Giraldo all died last week, the combo of which has brought on a slight case of The Sads. While I wasn't a huge Tony Curtis fan, it's impossible not to like him in Some Like It Hot and Operation Petticoat (my college roommate's favorite movie and rarely NOT playing in our dorm room) and there's no denying that he was a Hollywood legend. Stephen J. Cannell, though... I grew up with his work. He produced over 40 television series, including The Rockford Files, The Greatest American Hero (believe it or not), The A-Team, and 21 Jump Street. If Tony Curtis was a Hollywood legend, Stephen J. Cannell was a Burbank one. Greg Giraldo was a comedian and actor, probably best known for his finely-tuned insulting skills showcased in both the series of Comedy Central Roasts (David Hasselhoff being the most recent "honoree") and Last Comic Standing, where he served as a judge. My favorite Greg Giraldo moment was probably during the Comedy Central Roast of Flava Flav when he took the podium, turned to Carrot Top, a fellow attendee, and was brave enough to ask what we've all been dying to for years (in a rhetorical way, of course), "What happened to your face?" He had a way of saying the most impossibly horrible things to someone, and getting a hug from them when he was finished.

But, before you get too down, I have good news. The divorce of Spencer Pratt and Heidi Montag has been canceled. I only hope that I can say the same about all future Speidi projects. Earlier this Summer, they spent some time together in Costa Rica and decided that they are in love. I can only conclude that means that in the time they spent apart, they found out that no one else can stand them. Besides, rain forests are the new bed and breakfasts. If you don't believe me, you're not paying attention. Anyway, they unfiled for divorce and have been seen liplocking all over the place so I guess that proves that they are the real deal. Or whatever. Stay tuned.

Well, that and a few Pumpkin Spice Lattes ought to be enough to get you through the weirdness of early October. If not, feel free to cheer yourselves by taking pictures of your nipples with famous faces. I promise you, it works. But only if you send me a copy.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Everything new is old again!

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 27 Sep 2010 16:00:03 +0000

So, you know how youth culture is the boss of all things and if you ain't young, you ain't shit? Yeah, those are actual things and have been since Elvis burst onto the scene and gyrated all up in the faces of our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. God, the patriarchy is so easy to intimidate when you're wearing tight pants. But, if the kids are all right, how come we're so fond of trotting out the elderly dames for our own entertainment, lately? From Saturday Night Live (but barely) to Dancing With The Stars (also, barely), oldies are goodies right now, and Depends sales have tripled just from my excitement about it. But it's not like we're dragging old ladies out of the beauty parlor where they're getting a wash and set and throwing them in front of the camera -- these people are already bona fide celebrities who have been out of the spotlight for a while but are suddenly relevant again. Wait, donning sequins and shaking artificial hips is relevant, right?

Betty White is the flavor du jour, if the flavor you crave is prune. She is everywhere right now. I'll admit, it was quite a blow to my nostalgia to have lost the other three Golden Girls in as many years, so I understand treasuring her. However, if the current trend holds, we'd better get our fill of Betty, right quick. Thankfully, that's super easy to do. She is one of the stars of the movie You Again, now playing, along with Veronica Mars Kristen Bell and Jamie Lee Curtis, aka, Ms. Digestion 2010 (I can't imagine where Jamie Lee found the time to film a movie, what with all of that Activia Challenge footage she has to review). Near as I can tell, Betty plays an old woman who says hilariously sassy, vaguely sexual things with just enough inappropriateness that audiences will be, at once, horrified and titillated. In fact, that seems to be her shtick these days. On her recent Saturday Night Live appearance, she participated in one sketch where she repeatedly hollered the word "lesbian!", thoroughly amusing the audience and SNL cast members. And, in her opening monologue, White thanked Facebook (where the movement to have her chosen as host began) and joked that she "didn’t know what Facebook was, and now that I do know what it is, I have to say, it sounds like a huge waste of time" (She's right, the Facebook IS a huge waste of time. It's really only good for two kinds of people: 1. my exes, so they can come to see that I've gotten fat and feel better about themselves, and 2. my father, so he can monitor language. I mean it, drop an f-bomb on the 'book and suffer the wrath of Mr. Wright). But I fear that a brilliant actress with impeccable comedic timing is becoming a finger puppet for hipster humor writers who are more interested in shocking people into giggling, instead of coaxing intelligent laughs from them.

I have the same misgivings about Cloris Leachman, former Dancing With The Stars contestant (and holder of "oldest to compete" title) and current star of the wildly offbeat sitcom, Raising Hope. In Hope, she plays "Maw Maw", the senile grandmother who runs around in various states of undress and babbling nonsense. It's a genius role that feels a teeny bit exploitative. An old woman in an ill-fitting wig, bra, and polyester trousers! Outrageous! And, by "outrageous" I mean summer vacation at my grandmother's house every year from 1975 to 1990! But we kept those family secrets where they belonged, in our jam-packed, skeleton-filled closet of denial. Though watching Cloris run down the street, nude from the waste up and holding her tots so they don't jiggle makes me toy with the idea of turning my childhood into a sitcom.

The latest Lady Of A Certain Age to be taking a sip from the Fountain of Not As Old is Florence Henderson. If you are a member of my generation, it's going to blow your mind when I tell you that Carol Brady is 76, but it's true. Hell, Cindy is almost 50! Anyway, Flo is a total firecracker on Dancing With The Stars this season, and moving her body in ways that would have made Mr. Brady blush, even if he hadn't been a gay man. She may even have a chance to win, if she can rebook those denture adhesive commercials she slated to shoot and hire someone to Gillooly Bristol Palin's disturbingly attractive legs. Really, for the daughter of the best thing to happen to comedy since George W. Bush has the most amazing gams. But Florence has another dance partner, and that's experience. When the band played "Kiss Me, Honey Honey, Kiss Me" for her cha-cha-cha, it was much more convincing than Palin's "Mama Told Me (Not To Come)" (Girl, you had teen sex. You got pregnant. Coming likely had little to do with it).

The good news is that these ladies are cackling, coughing, and hacking, all the way to the bank. I mean, they might as well strike while the iron's hot, right? The bad news is that they can't take it with them so they'd better be enjoying the money while they make it. None of us is guaranteed a future, it's just that their odds are a bit lower than mine. So, I'll just be over here, awaiting the return of Mary Tyler Moore, Ann Margaret, and Sally Field in her greatest role, ever, the reprisal of Gidget as she makes her way, haphazardly through the trials of forgetfulness, circular stories, and the pitfalls of Medicare. It's going to be riveting. Just don't invite Bob Barker. He's still kind of bitter about not cashing in more in his silverfoxyness. Sorry, Bob, this round belongs to the ladies.

The Checkout Girl can usually be found with her laptop attached to her fingertips, updating thecheckoutgirl.net or, more frequently, fuckyeahmotherhood.com. She also tweets/twits/twats as @thecheckoutgirl or @fyeahmotherhood. She loves all things dishy and is looking for a manicurist who will scrawl obscenities in her nail polish, because she's THAT cutting edge.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Celebrity beef, it’s what for dinner

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 20 Sep 2010 16:00:27 +0000

So, it's been a week of the blahs. All the kids went back to school but mother nature seems reluctant to give up the boiling temps of Summer. Pumpkin Spice Latte, Starbucks? It's ninety degrees out and I don't WANT to smell like both nutmeg and Gold Bond powder at the same time! Anyway, when I get like this, there's only one surefire solution to drag me from the blues, back to the pinks: celebrity beef.

Dictionary.com defines "Beef" as "An argument or dispute". Celebrity beef (Can we just start calling it "celebeef"? Too late, already done.) has the added element of being captured and heightened by the media, for all the world to chew on. And by world, I mean that nightmare Perez Hilton. Probably the most well-known of these, since the term "beef" was coined (Not "celebeef". That was only twenty seconds ago.) is the East Coast-West Coast rap rivalry. The Notorious B.I.G. (East!) and Tupac Shakur (West!) had beef for years, extending to their music, friends, and family, and both ended up murdered. Now THAT'S beef. But I'm less interested in violence and crews and more interested in catfights and name calling. Because that's the kind of girl I am.

You know who's got good celebeef? Lindsay Lohan and, um, EVERYBODY!

I LOVE the media tussle between she and Dr. Drew, a man famous for his reality shows Celebrity Rehab and Sober House. So, an expert, obviously. He apparently told Radar Online that if Lindsay “were my daughter, I would pack her car full with illegal substances, send her on her way, call the police, and make sure she was arrested." Yikes. (Does Dr. Drew even have children? Google My research says yes. Teen triplets of all things. Gah! Good luck, kiddies!) Lindsay responded by calling Dr. Drew a "quack". Obviously feeling like he wasn't properly heard, Dr. Drew then took his rant to the Huffington Post to reiterate something that had, really, for all intents and purposes, been iterated pretty clearly (Did you know "iterate" was a word? Hell yeah, it is! Boom!). Lindsay responded again, saying, “He’s such a loser… He’s not a real doctor, he’s a celebrity doctor". Yeah, Linds, a celebrity doctor. FOR CELEBRITIES! Anyway, the beef is still on, thanks God, and has been left at "I sincerely wish her the best" but you know the good doctor is just biding his time until she ends up on his doorstep, wanting to be on his show.

Another celeb sincerely wanting to make Lindsay into a better person and gently help her through her rough time is wacky old coot comic actor Jerry Lewis. At 84, a time when I hope to have figured out how to hear ridiculous things and maintain an inner peace about them, he got fired up, recently, when talking about LiLo's sitch. "I'd smack her in the mouth if I saw her," Lewis said to Inside Edition. "I would smack her in the mouth and be arrested for abusing a woman!" Getting even more fired up, he continued, "I would say, 'You deserve this and nothing else' ... WHACK! And then, if she's not satisfied, I'd put her over my knee and SPANK her!" Hrm, not as inner peace-y as I had hoped. To be fair, Lindsay wasn't the only young lass in his sights. "[It's] the same thing with Paris Hilton," he said. "Those children are begging for help. What they're doing is saying, 'I'm fucked up, can you help me?'", then "I think they need a fucking spanking! And a reprimand!" Hey, Nutty Professor, it's starting to sound like maybe you just wanna hit girls. Take a heart pill and sit your ass down. And screw you for making me side with Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton!

You know who else is all about the Lohans? Another gingery former child star/addict, Danny Bonaduce. On The Early Show he talked about how rehab can't help Lindsay, because she doesn't admit she has a problem (12 Steppy!). Duh, Danny Partridge. But what he said that WAS slightly interesting is that he spent four years as number one on a list that radio hosts refer to called the "Dead Pool." The Dead Pool is a list of celebrities most likely to die. Today, he says he's number 63 and Lohan is number one. Bonaduce says he's seen Lohan at her worst and fears she may drive drunk one day and kill herself or someone else. Okay. Yes. Totally. But how do I get in on this Dead Pool? I've got a good/bad feeling about that guy who's married to Tori Spelling and maybe his motorcycle or a necktie and a closet rod.

But lots of other celebs have publicly given advice to Lindsay, too, adding insult to injury or salt to beef (mmm...salty beef). Including Betty White, a lady who is at the top of her game at 88, who said "Shape up!" and Lil' Kim, who is no stranger to the pain when it comes to jail and "harsh" sentences, seeing that she did a year of hard time for refusing to cooperate with the law after witnessing a shooting. She sees it differently, saying, "If you’re not killing someone or doing something really drastic, really, to me, no one deserves to be judged." but I lost focus while she was speaking because I was thinking about her nipples and how she's always showing them and will you please stop yapping and show me what kind of pastie you're wearing today, Lil' Kim!

My favorite wisdom, though, came from Merle Haggard who was in San Quentin at 19, because he'd already escaped from jail 17 times. He said "She’s going to have to straighten out her life, otherwise she’ll be dead by the time she’s 30. That’s the bottom line." Why is it my favorite? Because I love grizzled old cowboys!

So, poor Lindsay Lohan is getting beef from all sides, all the time, but I think she'll be okay. She showed up at the VMAs last week and made fun of her own troubles, which I've got to give her credit for. When she gets to Step 8 of her recovery, though, she's got a lot of fellow actors with which to make amends. And late night comedians. And office ladies around water coolers. Crap. She might just be taking her celebeefs to the grave. Which, according to current Death Pools, should have happened about twenty minutes ago.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Sugar and spice and science and magic

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 15:50:43 +0000

It seems that, these days, the Jens are back on top. Or the middle. Or the upper bottom, really. Both Jennifer Aniston and Jennifer Lopez have recently released sassy, empowering "sisters are doing it for themselves" movies. The "it", by the way, is getting knocked up. The Switch and The Back-up Plan are both movies about ladies of a certain age who decide to stop waiting around for their Prince Charmings and make dwarfs on their own.

Exciting, isn't it? This science stuff? But it takes a little bit of magic, too. Mr. Right nowhere to be found? Mr. Right Now looking a little dubious when it comes to genetics due to anger management issues and webbed toes? Never fear! These days buying male seed is quicker and easier than picking up the bottle of wine and turkey baster you will need to romance yourself into conception.

You may think I'm being flip, because that's kind of how I operate, but I kid you not about this sperm stuff. I recently ran into a customer that I hadn't seen in about two years, and she had a 1 1/2 year old baby with her. I was surprised because the last time we had talked, she was going through a divorce.

"Where'd you get this?" I said, gesturing toward the toddler.

"I made it," she said, laughing.

She told me she had decided she wanted a sibling for her son (from the marriage) and gone to a fertility doctor.

"Then you just go online, choose a donor, and they send you the, um, stuff."

How Hollywood!

I wanted to ask more questions, but we aren't that close. Besides, I didn't want her mother and I discussing her conception via the UPS guy to be this little girl's first memory.

But the Jens aren't the first to bring conception without intercourse into the light. No, indeed. Since Julie Christie was impregnated with a robot baby in Demon Seed, movies have been putting buns in ovens using science and magic, with great success. In fact, three of my favorite movies center around that thing I just said.

Chutney Popcorn is an old movie, because I'm old. In fact, it was released all the way back in 1999 (That's right, kids, there was a Prince song about it but it actually existed, too! Unlike that mythical Purple Rain he kept whining about). It starred Jill Hennessy as Lisa, a lesbian. Oh, there was another girl, too. Her partner, Reena. But, you know, Crossing Jordan was gay and had a thing for crop tops so it was distracting. Anyway, Reena comes from a traditional Indian family, who frowns upon her homosexuality, but both she and Lisa gain favor when she offers to carry a baby for her sister and brother-in-law, who are struggling with infertility. The insemination scene is funny and real. There is science, there is magic, there is a baby that no one seems exactly sure what to do with. The ending is kind of meh, but the movie is good and, for some reason, I'm a sucker for stories about traditional Indian families. See: Bend It Like Beckham.

Baby Mama is newer and funnier. Tina Fey (Kate) is an uptight, single, driven career woman who has it all and keeps it hermetically sealed in coordinated boxes from The Container Store. The one thing she's missing is, no, not a man, a baby. OF COURSE! She tries the traditional, non-traditional route of going to a doctor for insemination, but to no avail, so she hires a baby mama (Amy Poehler as Angie) to carry one for her. Guys, you KNOW hilarity ensues. Naturally, the baby mama she chooses is her exact opposite in every way. Why would you want parallel universe you to be the chest for your unborn treasure? Larfs. After an argument, Angie leaves her commonlaw husband and moves in with Kate. Like The Odd Couple. With menstrual cycles. Or not. They both have to step outside their comfort zones, Kate unclenching her ass just a tiny bit and Angie growing up an even tinier bit, to learn to live together. For the baby. There is a scene in a nightclub which is outrageously unbelievable but still gut-bustingly funny. Tina Fey, it turns out, does a Vogue/Cabbage Patch/Riverdance/Possible Seizure dance montage that is not to be missed.

The latest and greatest making babies outside the box movie, not counting the Jens' gems, of course, is The Kids Are All Right. If you had told me ten years ago that I'd get to watch Julianne Moore making sweet, sweet oral love to Annette Bening I'd have slapped you across the face, kissed you hard, and started making popcorn. Now, though, times are tougher and we're all a little rougher, it's not as overtly sexy as you might think. The ladies play a lesbian couple who each gave birth to one child, using the same sperm donor. Now the "Kids" are teenagers and desire a connection with their biological father, played by Mark Ruffalo. It's a complex situation. The moms feel like this means they aren't enough, the donor has to decide if the wants to eschew his footloose and fancy-free ways to be an actual father to the kids, the kids, well, are a hot mess, as teens are, and don't know what they want. It's a very sweet and emotional movie and totally worth seeing, if only for Julianne Moore's nipples, which make a stunning appearance like cherries on a vanilla sundae. You can google that thing, but I'm here to tell you that the alleged nipple in the googs is not the one seen in the movie. Stunt nipple?

Okay, so the movies I chose are no Twins, but am I really supposed to believe that Arnold and DeVito are made from the same genetic material? I'd rather suspend disbelief to agree that Jill Hennessy would hook up with a fat chick or Mark Ruffalo is still single and aimless and just waiting to be fixed by me. I'd rather, RATHER believe that Jennifer Aniston and Jennifer Lopez didn't almost simultaneously release movies where, in the end, they both got their babies AND the men of their dreams. Ladies, you CAN have it all, sometimes it's just a matter of having two hours to kill.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Stars for sale

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 16:00:12 +0000

Earlier this week, a little bird (called Twitter, FYI) told me that something was up with The Situation from Jersey Shore and vodka. Now, I'm not a huge fan of fist pumps and fitness ("You're kidding!" No, I'm completely serious.) but the Jersey Shore kids are good for gossip and making me feel better about my own life choices, so I decided to investigate further. The Bad News: There's no alcohol-induced scandal. This time. The Good News: It's still gossip-worthy.

It seems that Mr. Situation (aka Mike Sorrentino. boring, right?) has signed on to be the spokesman for a new brand of vodka called Devotion. New vodkas are a dime a dozen, but this one is special. It seems that Devotion is infused with protein. Slashfood says that the man who invented the drink was "so obsessed with his two loves -- nightlife and keeping lean muscle mass -- that he decided to combine his protein supplement with his vodka." It goes on, "The protein that's added is supposedly good for supporting an increase in lean body mass and a decrease in body fat, but only if you include lifting weights in your fitness regimen." Healthy vodka? Why not?! And The Situation, a fitness center manager and the absolute picture of health, is the perfect choice for spokesman. You know, because Lindsay Lohan is clean.

But it's not only celebs with ripped abs the color of sweet potatoes who are getting endorsement deals. Everywhere you look these days celebs are spieling for their suppers. In fact, I just today saw Hulk Hogan in a classy commercial for something called Debt Help Center USA. These places are more popular than ever in our over-extended, cash-strapped society, but few of them can brag of a man in a muscle shirt that says "DON'T SWEAT THE DEBT", screaming about their credit card consultation services. I know times are tough for a pro-wrestler in the post-WWF world, but this has gotta be a half-nelson on the ego.

Before he went to the big nostalgia TV convention in the sky, I saw Gary Coleman doing an even more embarrassing commercial for a company called Cash Call. I'm pretty sure it's one of those cash advance/payday loan places and Gary was more than likely an actual customer, but the commercial is 15 seconds of pure, unadulterated crazy. He laughs, hysterically through the whole thing, barely getting out his line of "I LOOOVE YOU, CASH CALL!" and then "No one would lend me any money. Not even my relatives!", then cackles until the voice-over comes on and the commercial ends. It's so much uncomfortable insanity that even a quarter of a minute feels like a squirmy forever. At this point, it's straight-up sad to watch and I just hope he got enough to bail him out of whatever financial jam he was in. Whatchu talkin' bout, Cash Call?

Speaking of semi-shameless, at least Gary Coleman, Hulk Hogan, and even The Situation are believable. Have you seen Magic Johnson's commercials for Rent-A-Center? This guy has never used a furniture rental store in his adult life! "A big-screen tv. Stylish furniture. A bedroom set. Rent-A-Centers help you bring your dreams within reach." Really, Magic? How about screw you? Who dreams of renting an overpriced bedroom set that's been repossessed from three families prior because they couldn't pay he outrageous weekly payments? Or eventually paying $500 for a microwave that retails for $150 at Target? My guess is nobody. If somebody is so poor and has credit so bad that they can't get something financed at a store, how are you helping them by selling them a thousand dollar XBOX? Stop sounding trustworthy for blood diamonds, Mr. Johnson! Also, age! You look exactly the same as you did when I was a kid!

Look, celebrity product endorsements aren't new. They've been around since products and celebrities were invented. And people have always wanted to drive, wear, and smoke the same things that famous people do. But I think that fame can mean more than taking every check shoved at you by a company that wants to use your face/reputation to sell their shit. Besides, if I never again hear Jamie Lee Curtis waxing poetic in euphemisms about bowel movements, it'll be too soon. No, YOU film YOUR Activia challenge, Jamie Lee!

Totally nerd to totally word: How to look cool on the Internet

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 16:00:52 +0000

What, exactly, IS an Internet meme? Wikipedia says, "The term Internet meme (pronounced /ˈmiːm/, rhyming with "cream") is used to describe a concept that spreads swiftly via the Internet." It can be a cartoon, a video, a song, a picture, or even a commercial but, whatever form it takes, it resonates with people and spreads like wildfire. But it's also a sure way to separate the men from the boys when it comes to online hipness. Someone tweets or facebooks (totally a verb) "Double rainbow all the way!" or "Play 'em off, keyboard cat" and half of their friends laugh uproariously while the other half also laugh, but nervously. Don't be afraid, readers. Embrace the meme. I'm about to take you from drool to cool when it comes to pop culture one hit wonders, and soon YOU'LL be dropping bombs and making others feel uncomfortable and dated. Isn't that what the Internet is all about?

Lolcats
One of the first memes I ever experienced, it is responsible for all the terrible Internet speak in the world. Maybe not all, but it didn't help. Basically, the site consists of pictures of animals with captions. Simple, right? Simple like a fox! On the front page of the site at the time of this writing is a picture of a cat, holding up his paw, with the words "Dis many cheeseburgers, pweez" and it's totally cracking me up. I don't know why it works, but it does.

Keyboard Cat
"Play 'em off, keyboard cat" is one of my favorite disses, ever. Keyboard cat started as a video of a cat, wearing a shirt, being controlled like a puppet to play the keyboard. What? Yes. Besides being kind of adorable, the meme is about putting that short clip of keyboard cat on the end of another video where the person really needs escorted out. Some of my favorite keyboard cat clips: Miss South Carolina 2007, Kanye West, and Justin Bieber.

Three Wolf Moon
Three Wolf Moon, the product, is a simple thing: a black T-shirt, screen-printed with dramatic art of three wolves howling at the moon. It's dark, it's mysterious, it's what boys who play Magic: The Gathering would wear. But the secret to the meme is not in the shirt, it's in the listing for the shirt, which has over 1700 customer reviews, many of them intentionally hilarious. As a wink at the silliness of it all, the shirt has been sported in public by Jack Black, Zach Galifianakis, Rainn Wilson, and Will Wheaton (nearly an Internet meme, himself).

Old Spice Man
One of the hottest memes right now, Old Spice Man, is a brilliant commercial for (you guessed it) Old Spice. The cologne my grandpa still uses is suddenly hip again, thanks to actor Isaiah Mustafa's portrayal of "The man your man could smell like." Sexy and sassy, he went from the small screen to the smaller screen, opening a Twitter account so he could respond to his fans on a more personal level. Tweet to Old Spice Man? You might get your own, personalized video response. Recently, he had a hot little exchange with Alyssa Milano that I'm pretty sure resulted in sweet lovemaking. At least in my head.

Double Rainbow
Another new and hothothot meme, Double Rainbow is a YouTube video that's being referenced and parodied all over the Internet. It's simple. A man is standing on his front porch, filming a double rainbow across the sky. The funny and awesome thing about it is he is really excited to be witnessing the magic of the double rainbow and gets caught up yelling things like "DOUBLE RAINBOW ALL THE WAY!" and whispering and sobbing things like "What does it mean?" This guy clearly sees the face of God in the phenomenon and shares it with us. Is it cool to get that excited? Never. But it IS kind of cool to hear that some people still believe in miracles, even ones like the prismatic effect of water on sunlight.

There are other Internet memes that shouldn't be missed if you want to be up to speed with what Saturday Night Live, Family Guy, or your younger, hipper friends are talking about:

Charlie the Unicorn
Think unicorns are all sweetness and light? Take a trip to Candy Mountain and be educated.

Narwhals
Probably the best song ever written. About a sea creature with a horn. Narwhals aren't mythical, but they are magical.

Goatse
(Link: fairly safe for work. Meme: heck no.)
A man does the unspeakable. So I won't speak of it.

2 girls 1 cup
(See above warning. And heed it. Seriously, guys. Heed.)
The only thing missing from this meme's title is "and some doody". But now you'll know what everyone is talking about.

Dancing Banana/Peanut Butter Jelly Time
Painful to watch, but lots of memes are. Bad animation, bad music, bad brain worm that could last days. Sing it to your friends. If you hate them.

Chocolate Rain
It's impossible to put your finger on what is so great about this video. The song? The singing? The singer? The caption at 0:23? I giggle every time I watch it. Share, liberally.

Pants On The Ground
I don't know why everybody finds this so funny. It's catchy and timely and I've heard much worse songs on the radio, being presented as serious music. Related: I am old.

Leave Britney Alone
Chris Crocker is a sobbing mess of eyeliner and snot but you can't help but love him for his righteous indignation. How dare we judge Britney? Oh, we dare. But we love you, Chris.

David After The Dentist
"Is this real life?" No, David, it's the Internet. I dare you to not "aww" at least once and use the "real life" phrase for the next 24 hours after watching this. Really, it works in a variety of situations.

Rickrolling
Never been Rickrolled? You haven't lived! Don't let your friends suffer the same fate, punk them today!

There you have it, folks. You are officially educated on Internet memes. Caveat: Like Brett Favre's career decisions, memes change constantly. My advice: keep your ear to the ground. If you see more than one person tweet/facebook a phrase, use the Googles and check it out. Or just wait for Saturday Night Live to do a sketch on it. Whichever. I mean, uncool is the new cool, right?

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: A Cup of Ambition? Check!

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 16:00:03 +0000

This past week, the the news has been chock full of stories of underlings fighting the corporate man. Dramatic, Internet-friendly job resignations are all the rage and the tiny Norma Rae in me is fired up and ready to sing "Take This Job And Shove It", to the powers that be over at Fancy Pants Grocery, Inc. However, stupid-ass grownup issues like "a paycheck" and "health insurance" *insert appropriate eye roll here* keep me tied to the man like a marionette on a golden string. But that doesn't mean I can't rise up in my heart and cheer for those who are fed up, fried, mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore!

First, on Monday, flight attendant Steven Slater got huffy, puffy, and blew JetBlue's house down when he gave the middle finger to the old adage, "the customer is always right". Anyone who has been paid to help a customer, ever, knows that the old saying doesn't always hold true. However, our champion was not content to grin and bear the slings and arrows of the "coffee, tea, or me" set and popped his cork. According to reports, Steven was working a flight from Pittsburgh to New York that had just landed when he was accidentally hit on the head with a bag from the overhead compartment. Who knew the straw that broke the camel's back would be a carry-on? Probably every flight attendant, both past and present, that is reading this. But not me. Steven allegedly grabbed the mic, unloaded a few choice curse words over the airplane's intercom, grabbed a couple of beers, and, get this, DEPLOYED THE EMERGENCY EXIT SLIDE. Gah! My biggest regret in life (no, really, I've pretty much lived a life with very few regrets... or at least to few to mention) is not having been on this flight when it happened. Who HASN'T wanted to pull the handle and activate the giant bouncyhousefunslideoffun? All you'd need is a fire hose (which I'm sure airports totally have) to make the world's greatest Slip 'n Slide! Apparently, Steven then went inside the airport and bragged for a while, before heading home to victoriously knock boots with his boyfriend. One prob: his shenanis were illegal and Johnny Law came calling while he was still playing the love game. He was arrested, charged with criminal mischief, reckless endangerment, and trespassing, and eventually released on bail. Even worse, some of the passengers on that flight are giving statements that don't agree with our working-class hero's story. But that's ok by me. Whatever the trueyTRUEYtruth is, I'm down with the story of the man who rode the enormous inflatable slide to freedom, threw his corporate-issue tie on the tarmac, and said "Get yer own damn peanuts."

Then, on Tuesday, came the email heard 'round the world, as a mysterious, attractive cubicle drone named Jenny sent a series of pictures of herself, holding a whiteboard, to the people in her office. In each picture, she's written something different on the whiteboard and is making an appropriate facial expression. It goes like this:

Happy Monday Everybody / I quit / I've learned a lot these past two years / and I'm going to miss all of you / except one / I'm looking @ you Spencer / being your assistant's been a special hell / I put up with your temper / and your bad breath / because I wanted to be a broker / on Friday I transferred you a call / I was about to hang up / when I heard you call me a HOPA / HOPA?? / HOPA HOPA HOPA / Hot Piece Of Ass / is that really all you ever thought of me? / did you ever wonder... / why everybody in the office called the trash... / a garbage diSPENCER? / office moral is down since you installed the "little office snitch" / so you could monitor how we spend our time online / so I wondered / how does Spencer spend his time online? / you gave me the codes after all / 4 hrs/week Scottrade / 5.3 hrs/week TechCrunch / and drumroll... / 19.7 hrs/week playing FARMVILLE / wow / so this HPOA's moving on / although I don't have another job / something tells me I'll be just fine

The ultimate kiss off to the jerk boss that we've all had. How encouraging. How empowering. How faux. It turns out that Jenny is an actress named Elyse and the whole Dolly Parton in 9 to 5 shtick was written by the two guys who run TheChive.com which is a site that, among other things, tracks Internet memes. Also creates them, apparently. They said they did it because they wanted to see if they could. They could. But, just like with Steven, I think the message is valid, even if the facts are a little fuzzy. Just because Jenny wasn't Jenny and there was no Spencer, most of us have been Jennys dealing with Spencers at some point in our lives and dreaming of the spectacular verbal dressing-down, if given the chance. Plus, the edutainment value is pretty high on girl with a strong resemblance to Angelina Jolie telling her jackass boss to kiss her HPOA, you know? I know it sure stoked some vivid revenge, I mean "resignation", fantasies in me!

Look, I'm not saying you should compare your boss to trash, or slide down the superfun slide to unemployment, but a little fantasy goes a long way when dreaming of telling him that he's overbearing, boorish, and has giant pores that look like they might consume children and small animals, if left unsupervised, or to call you Miss Jackson if he's nasty. Sometimes, dreaming is as good as doing, except that you can still feed the children. No. It's not. Ever. But hungry kids and your mortgage will always win. Can't keep your spirit from giving the finger, though, can they?

Off the Clock with The Checkout Girl: Eat, Pray, Loco

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 02 Aug 2010 16:00:36 +0000

Well, I just heard the news. Author Anne Rice, of Interview with the Vampire fame, has announced that she is "quitting Christianity". Just like that. As easily as she joined the religion, she is peacing out. Hardly seems fair. Or, like, an effective way of retaining members.

Anyway, she wrote on her Facebook page (yeah, that's a thing) that she refuses to be "anti-gay," "anti-feminist," "anti-science", and "anti-Democrat". Well, sister, I'm no theology major, but I have been alive for more than five minutes and know that, if you have strong feelings about issues, you might want to check out the religion you are choosing and see if it jibes at all with your opinions. This way, you can avoid a messy breakup, the awkward status change from "in a relationship" to "it's complicated", and the heartache thrust upon your friends when they are forced to decide whose Super Bowl party to attend. Because, I gotta tell you, you wrote a book about vampires and are always wearing velvet clothing and ruffly-necked shirts like a cartoon of yourself. So, I'm hitting Team Christianity's shindig for the big game. Besides, your dip tastes like angst.

But Anne Rice is not the only celebrity to declare her religious, uh, non-conformity so publicly. From the bracelet wearers to brainwashers, the rich and famous have always gone gung ho when it came to a higher power.

Remember when Madonna broke up with Catholicism? Talk about uncomfortable! For us, I mean. She was all up in her music videos talking about her daddy and rubbing on a saint, daring us to disapprove. Angry, much? Then she found peace in Kabbalah, which is kind of like Judaism, but you can't say that to a Jewish person. Some of the same texts are used, though. Plus you get awesome accessorization in the form of a red string, said to ward of the Evil Eye (I'm not sure if "Evil Eye" is a proper noun but I'm really not comfortable NOT capitalizing it). A red string? That's all it takes? And all this time I've been slaughtering chickens and deflowering virgins. You know what? Neither of those things are easy to find these days! The thing is, she seems pretty happy. She's cleaned up her act (using special Kabbalah water which, apparently, is like seven bucks a bottle and she used it to fill her whole swimming pool and the radiators in her house because you totally need your home to course with the power of Kabbalah). Other followers of Mighty Arms Madge's powerful fairymagic (unofficially) include Lindsay Lohan (who could use a good Evil Eye ward-er off-er right now -- somebody send her some string!), Roseanne, Sandra Bernhard, Anthony Kiedis, Ashton Kutcher, Demi Moore, Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall, Lucy Liu, Rosie O'Donnell, Naomi Campbell, Britney Spears, David and Victoria Beckham, Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, James Van Der Beek, Zac Efron, and Lauren Conrad. Basically, it looks like if you want to be successful and famous, you have to drink the holy Kool Aid of Kabbalah, right? Wrong. It's like you've totally forgotten about Scientology!

Near as I can tell, but I don't think anyone is exactly sure (maybe not even the followers), Scientology is a religion based on a self-help book called Dianetics that is about making movies. No? Making money. Wrong again? What do you mean, "recalling tragic events in your past"? What a downer! Besides, how does that get me an Oscar? There's also some reincarnation stuff and a device for measuring your state of mind, electronically. I can't imagine such a thing in my head without it being exactly like Auto-Tune and the awesome tones that come out, T-Pain-style, telling the Scientology leaders what's up with your consciousness. Followers include Kirstie Alley, Beck, Sonny Bono (RIP), Jenna Elfman, Juliette Lewis, Elisabeth Moss, Priscilla and Lisa Marie Presley, Giovanni Ribisi, and Leah Remini. Hey, lookiethere! Scientology is no celebri-slouch, either! But the religion's (no, really, tax exempt and everything) two biggest cheerleaders are also two of the heaviest hitters in Hollywood: Tom Cruise and John Travolta. Well, that hardly seems fair to the other religions. I mean, these guys could sell ice to Eskimos. Or crap to studio execs. And they sure as heck can influence people who are paid to not act like themselves for a living. When you already have writers, directors, agents, PR professionals constantly telling you who to be, how bad can Tom and John really be? More power to 'em. You don't hear about too many impoverished Scientologists, but maybe that's the plan.

So, the way I see it, Anne Rice might be breaking up with Jesus, but she's got options. Though some of them are fancy, shiny, unnerving options. She should go find someone compatible with her beliefs and live happily ever after. Do they make eHarmony for religion? They should. For now, a visit to any college campus will do. Those places are full of fresh, enthusiastic believers. And vampires. She might want to wear the industrial-strength velvet.

Off the Clock with The Checkout Girl: Pass the brownies

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 16:00:23 +0000

Some pop addicts choose PerezHilton.com to get their fix. For some, TMZ.com is their dealer. While that's all well and good, I am old. Old means I don't like change. It also means I'll soon get a discount at Denny's. But, mostly, it means I get my daily dose of useless news from People.com. People? Online? There just might be something to these Internets after all! I mean, I used to have to wait a whole week between celebrity gossip binges and subsequent purges. Now, People.com leaves me, if not anywhere near the top of the in-the-know, at least somewhere toward the middle-bottom, just above my grandmother who reads the free Parade magazine that comes with her Sunday paper, and just below my mother, who likes to gossip with her church friends who know much more about Hollywood scandal than you'd expect from good, Christian ladies.

While perusing the People website tonight, deciding on which topic most whetted my whistle for this week's column, I stumbled on the headline "Police Discover Pot On Bret Michaels's Tour Bus" and was confused because:

1) I'm a college dropout, yes, but when did we start putting 's after an s? Are we not doing the dangling apostrophe anymore? Are we getting paid by the letter? Are there new rules for a new millennium or was I just not that friendly with the old rules? While we're at it, what the hell happened to New Math?

2) Pot? On a musician's rock star's glamorous singing man's tour bus? Jeez, cops, what the hell else did you think could possess someone to wear that much eyeliner? Or even CONSIDER a bandanna with stringy blond hair sewn in? And Rock of Love? Come on, law enforcement, you pulled the bus over for a broken license plate light with a K-9 unit? You've seen Celebrity Apprentice, you know that stuff don't happen sober.

3) The comments section of that "article" is to die for. From what I can understand, the whole fiasco is either the right's fault, the left's fault, the media's fault, or a punishment from the god of choice because women wear low-cut shirts.

In all seriousness, though, the big One Hit Wonder Tour drug bust comes closely on the heels of another beloved celebrity and, well, America's Sweetheart, really, being persecuted for her love of hallucinogens. Paris Hilton has had two bitsy scrapes with the lawypoo in recent weeks. First at the World Cup, then at the airport in Corsica. Naturally, both were big misunderstandings, but who in the world worth their water cooler salt hasn't seen a pic of Paris Hilton getting stoned? In fact, a smoking pot is her second favorite oral fixation, winkwinknudgenudge. Anyone who has been alive for more than five minutes knows that about Paris. No, actually, newborn babies come out of their moms knowing that about Paris. Which is weird because I'm all about freedom, but I don't think babies should watch porn. Ready to have your mind blown? Stop to consider the fact that MAYBE Paris Hilton doesn't have a wonky eye at all. MAYBE she is just always messed up. Yeah. That.

Come on, People online and other various entertainment news sources! Bret and Paris are hardly the first celebrities to be caught with weed. Such musical giants as David Lee Roth, Dionne Warwick, and Lil Kim's nipples have all been busted with pot. And such acting greats as David Faustino, Dawn Wells, and Flavor Flav (he transcends categories, really) have had reefer madness. In fact, I'm almost certain that a love affair with Mary Jane is a requirement for entertainment mediocrity! Addiction is the new black and shows like VH1's Celebrity Rehab and Sober House draw big ratings because we love to see the mighty hit rock bottom (still better than my highest summit), roll around there for a while, and get back up. And then fail again. Because that's the kind of people we are. But we are also forgiving. And forgetting. It's why people keep seeing Mel Gibson movies. But, whoever the next celeb is to test the public's moral boundaries, you can bet I'll read about it at People Mag. Why? Because I'm old, it's comfortable, and, well, the crossword puzzles. What? They make me feel smart. Now pass the hard candy.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Your childhood. Without pants.

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 16:00:20 +0000

So, I heard that Adrianne Curry, America's Next Top Model winner and wife to Peter Brady or Christopher Knight or whatever, was having a bit of a meltie over on Twitter and rushed to the Googles to see if I could find her handle and peek in on the trainwreck. The thing is, I couldn't remember her name at all (because who remembers her name and did you remember her name before the first sentence of this column?) so I searched her slightly more famous husband's slightly more famous former sitcom (Note to self: Child stars are only adorable when they are children). Well, ho and behold, I came across a porn version of The Brady Bunch, instead! I was intrigued so I dug a little deeper (these double entendres are killing me and also slightly intentional) and found out that porn parodies of popular television shows are super-hot right now. And the Internet has free trailers for many of them. I'd love to say that I didn't watch each and every one but, people, it's called research and nothing is too good for my readers.

Check out these porntacular blasts from the past:

Not The Bradys XXX
Not only does it exist, but they made a sequel! And a threequel! Oh, and check out the twists: Greg is African-American, Bobby is Latino, Mrs. Brady looks to be Asian. It's like the Jolie-Pitt house up in here! Sadly, Alice looks like Alice which is a total bonerkiller. But the thing that made me order it, er, I mean, appreciate it even more, is that Ron Jeremy plays Sam the Butcher. What? Yeah. Ron Hair-emy getting it on with a pornstar made up like Ann B. Davis? I can't imagine anything less sexy but more entertaining. I look forward to further research in seven to 10 business days.

Not The Cosbys XXX
I watched the trailer for this. Maybe more than once. There are a few problems with the whole concept. 1) Cliff and his son Theo look to be approximately the same age, 2) Denise, Vanessa, and little Rudy Huckleberry are all three sexually active. In fact, in one scene it appears Denise has had a fight with her boyfriend and says "I'm through with men" while giving her scantily-clad girlfriend the sexyface. And 3) No one in the history of ever has found Bill Cosby sexy so the actor who plays him (complete with silly faces, bad sweaters, and chocolate pudding jokes -- chocolate pudding apparently meaning Mrs. Huxtable in this case), had better really have something up his, um, sleeve, to make this thing work. Sadly, trailers don't show anything good.

This Ain't Happy Days XXX
Quote From the filmmaker, Axel Braun:

"I grew up worshiping the original show, so I obviously had a strong emotional attachment to this project...and apparently so did everyone else involved. The level of commitment I got from the cast was just unbelievable: Tommy Gunn kept his trademark goatee off to play The Fonz, Alan Stafford dyed his hair a ridiculous strawberry blond to channel Richie, and Jack Lawrence even dyed his pubes orange to become Ralph! We wanted to create an over the top porn parody that plays upon the fun and spirit of the original show, and I think we achieved that."

Admittedly, I'm not a huge Happy Days fan. But you gotta love the level of commitment that goes into a man dying his pubic hair reddish-orange for a role. Would Tom Hanks do that? I don't think so. Would I rather see Tom Hanks naked than, say, a guy with pumpkin pubes? Probably. But there's no trailer for this one so I just have to imagine. Another thing I'm imagining: Fonzie jumping the shark. Nude. And the shark is a girl. Man, I could really clean up in this business!

Not M*A*S*H XXX
Look, I like M*A*S*H, and goodness knows there is no shortage of sexy Asians in the porn biz, so choosing a show that takes place in Korea is genius. But suction jokes and sexy nurses only get you so far. When I saw their Klinger offering to show their Radar the ways of love, I clicked the stop button so fast it almost gave my laptop whiplash! Also, isn't calling a porn actress Hot Lips sort of redundant? Oh, man, RVANews is going to fire me, for sure.

Not Three's Company XXX
You guys, I have a great idea: let's take a show that is a thinly-veiled orgy and make a porn parody by just removing the thin veil! Look, we all know that no one can ever replace John Ritter but Van Damage (not kidding) looks to have bumbling idiot down pretty well, plus he gets to make sweet love on camera. And, admit it, didn't you always want to see roommates Janet and Chrissy behind closed doors, wink-wink, nudge-nudge? Oh, and casting Nina Hartley as Mrs. Roper and Ron Jeremy as Jim the Bartender... GE. NI. US.

And there are more. Not Bewitched XXX (Nina Hartley as Endora and Ron Jeremy as Dr. Bombay, these two are the Abbott and Costello of bj's and dp's!), a Friends parody (where the Courtney Cox character is hilariously named Moanica), and a Seinfeld parody complete with a chubby, bald guy playing the George Costanza character (I'll bet he gets laid more than any of us) and a dirty, spicy Elaine which is hard to pull off because Julia Louis-Dreyfus was pretty darn spicy in the first place. By the way, most of these films are made by someone named Will Ryder who, near as I can tell, is like the Weird Al of porno which bums me out because I really wanted that title.

Anyway, by the time I finally got to the Adrianne Curry story, it was all blahblahblahbreastfeedingisgrossandIdon'thavesexinpublicsodon'tshowmeyourboobs and I was over it. And exhausted. Because, well, you know, research. Wink.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: The gossip gravy train

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 12 Jul 2010 15:48:55 +0000

When you're a pop culture junkie like me, there are dry spells -- times when you are so bored with society that you fantasize about another Braniston becoming Brangelina or Eddie Murphy being caught with a second transvestite prostitute. Those droughts feel like mashed potatoes with no gravy. In other words: gross. However, lately fate has kept me in celebrity deaths and extramarital affairs like you wouldn't believe, and I have a hard time even choosing what to gossip about. That's the gravy, folks, and this Summer has already been hot and juicy. This week I present to you celebrity news so titillating it just HAS to be fattening.

Lindsay Lohan had a little bit of trouble this week. The front runner for Miss Hot Mess 2010, who has had two DUIs and three trips to rehab, went to court for violating her probation by missing some court-mandated alcohol education classes and was sentenced to 90 days in jail and 90 more days in rehab. This is AFTER she was fitted with that giant, alcohol-detecting ankle robot from the future, which she totally rocked with her gladiator sandals and Lindsay Lohan brand self-tanner. But she won't need futuristicanklerobot where she's going because it's hard to get a good Vodka Red Bull in jail. Oh, and cocaine is practically illegal in there. I KNOW. Let's just hope that at least one of her fellow inmates has smuggled in a hypodermic full of the good stuff. I mean fat. For her lips. Those things don't enhance themselves, people. As a final act of rebellion, she painted "fuck u" on the nail of her middle finger for her court date. Too bad the judge had stenciled "you're going to jail, bitch" on hers. My guess is she's got a Freaky Friday or two in her future.

Mel Gibson is up to shenanigans again. After three decades and seven kids together, he and his wife split up last year. You'd think that a guy who'd been tied down since the late 1970's would take a minute off from sexytime to just be alone. But this is Hollywood and if celebrities could validate themselves they wouldn't need us or a never-ending string of romantic relationships. So, he hooked up with Oksana Grigorieva, a Russian pianist with a striking resemblance to Octomom Nadya Suleman both in facial features and fertility. She gave birth not long after his divorce was final and they broke up five months later. Ah, l'amore. So fleeting. Anyway, this week someone released audio tapes of some hate-filled rants by Mel toward Oksana. On one, he can be heard using the dreaded n-word and saying she looks like a "pig in heat". I'm starting to think this guy doesn't know what women want at all! Oksana says it wasn't her that leaked the tapes. Mel says it was. Either way, what he doesn't say is that it wasn't him on the tapes hating on a variety of ethnic groups. Is there solace to be found in the fact that Mel seems to hate almost everybody? Hey, don't ask me, I'm just watching the parade, not leading in it.

Jaleel White, the disappointingly UN-nerdy actor who played Steve Urkel on Family Matters, is under investigation for alleged assault on his, as they say on the coasts, "baby mama". She says that he punched her in one of her breast implants while they were driving. He says it never happened and she is trying to "tarnish his name". Two questions: 1) Someone had sex with Urkel? 2) Jaleel White has a name worthy of tarnishing? Domestic violence is never funny. What IS funny about this story is how TMZ was like "EXCLUSIVE" about it. Um, yeah. Legit news outlets rarely run "a child star from the 90's punched my breast implant" stories.

LeBron James is being sued by a man claiming to be his father. The father. Is suing the son. For four million dollars. The man claims he took a paternity test and it was negative but that LeBron and his mother tampered with it because James's story was more inspirational as a poor, fatherless kid from the projects than the son of a Princeton graduate ... who earned a law degree from the University of Chicago ... and then became a Senior Legal Advisor for the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission. Not quite a Spike Lee joint, right?

It's my hope that this week celebrities stay interesting and exciting, but dial it back just a teensy bit. My TMZ and Perez Hilton runneth over, and I've got other things that need my attention. Now, has anybody seen my kids?

Twelebrity Twalk Twith Twe Tweckout Twirl

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 28 Jun 2010 16:00:55 +0000

If there's one thing the modern world was missing, it was a way for millions of us to instantly know what celebrities were thinking at any time, day or night. Enter Twitter, the real time 140 character answer to all of my prayers. Ok, SOME of my prayers. It would need to have Salma Hayek's boobs and a Krispy Kreme factory to answer ALL of my prayers.

So, do you wonder what your favorite movie star had for lunch? Done! How about what that soap opera hottie thought of the latest blockbuster movie? Ok! And the man you called "the best author who ever lived", well, did you know he does his own laundry JUST LIKE YOU? Yep!

Last week, Kim Kardashian (@KimKardashian) tweeted this: "EWW Im at lunch,the woman at the table next 2 me is breast feeding her baby with no coverup then puts baby on the table and changes her diaper" and confused her fellow tweeps. Was the "EWW" over the breastfeeding or the diaper? Should we be angry with her or rise up with her over people opening a package full of pee and poo on a table where we might some day eat (trust me, none of us are eating at a Kardashian table, mmkay?) our OWN lunches? Some reacted, some waited. Then she said this: "My sister breast feeds! Its a natural beautiful thing, there's nothing wrong w it, but she covers herself, not w her boobs exposed". Oh, KK. There was a whomp whomp heard 'round the world as she, not content with just the tip of her Christian Louboutin in her mouth, went for the whole shoe. Lactivists shouted, anti-nipplites shouted, and most of us could care less what a spoiled, twentiesish, celebutante thought of our tater tots.

But, no matter your opinion of the Queen of Letting It All Hang Out ironically telling a woman to cover up, you can't deny the power of social media. Kim Kardashian has almost four million followers, which is a whole lot of voice for someone who made a sex tape with a man named Ray J and hawks diet pills. Yeah, I said it. See how easy it is to make four million enemies with the click of a keyboard?

But Kim is not the only celeb to have stepped in it on twitter. MegaChachi, Scott Baio (@RealScottBaio), might look like the affable Charles in Charge in his avatar, but he let his ass hang out in the tweetstream, recently. He tweeted: “Taxes are DONE...That should feed, house & provide medical for a few lazy non working people at my expense. Have a great Monday!" which put quite a few people sideways. The website jezebel.com posted the tweet, causing its readers to go wild in the comments section. His wife then went to facebook to accuse jezebel readers of being "far left lesbians", saying that "Scott Baio has more class in his piss than in all of you all!!!" Yep, three exclamation points. Now, I'm not sure how Renee Baio knows how much class is in the commenters, let alone her husband's tinkle, but those were some pretty harsh words. But this is not Baio's first brush with Twitter controversy. In January he tweeted an unflattering picture of Michelle Obama with a comment that read: “Wow, he wakes up to this every morning.” Seems to me this guy is not having enough happy days.

Another D-lister famous for being twitter TNT is Spencer Pratt (@spencerpratt). He seems to be as big of a fan of sending hateful tweets to other celebrities as he is of himself. He has recently dumped on Audrina Partridge for her "Tijuana plastic surgery" and Kate Hudson for her small breast implants, saying: "How is it possible to get breast implants and still not have breasts! - Kate H - get ur money back ... I got a guy who will hook you up!" Wait, the on-again/off-again boyfriend/husband of Heidi Montag (@heidimontag) is giving plastic surgery advice? Twitter has just paid for itself in awesomeness! He's also taken on Kim Kardashian and Snooki from Jersey Shore, which is funny because they both kind of seem like girls he would be into. It's possible that this is a case of pigtail pulling in the schoolyard and he's got some crushies. Spencer, if you are interested in me, please don't distweet, just go ahead and DM.

And speaking of hair-pulling celebs, Katy Perry (@katyperry) tweeted: "Using blasphemy as entertainment is as cheap as a comedian telling a fart joke" on the day that Lady Gaga (@ladygaga) premiered the video for "Alejandro", which is heavy on religious imagery. Big talk for a girl who, on the same day (no relation I'm sure), premiered a video where she fights Snoop Dogg and an army of gummi bears, armed only with a bra that shoots whipped cream like an excited pre-teen boy at his first coed swim party. This particular Twitter catfight (Twatfight?) is disappointing because 1) I like Katy Perry and 2) I tell fart jokes.

But it's not all back-biting and boob-hating on Twitter. Some celebrities just use the platform to demonstrate how vapid, boring, and bad at spelling they are. For example...

If a man really wanted to get away with cheating on his woman, he'd store his other girls' name on his phone as "low battery."
-- John Mayer (@johncmayer)

Why is it that people always try to understand estimate my intelligents?! They should never do that!
-- Mary J. Blige (@maryjblige)

Morning! Went for a run. Now I have to get my day going. My legs are so soar from yesterday... I kind of love being soar. I know it worked
-- Khloe Kardashian (@KhloeKardashian)

I hope I never get put in prison. Lil Wayne would so tap this
-- Joe Jonas (@joejonas)

"I don't love acting anymore so I've stopped doing it"
-- Amanda Bynes (@chicky)

My point is that not all celebrities who Twitter are terrible people who misuse their platform in ugly ways. Some are just like you and me. Well, you, because I have spell-check on my computer, don't pay my taxes, and think breastfeeding rules.

The Checkout Girl haunts the twittersphere, but twice as hard as these layabouts, at @thecheckoutgirl and @fyeahmotherhood. She also blogs work adventures at thecheckoutgirl.net and the rest of her life at fuckyeahmotherhood.com. She thinks Katy Perry's "California Gurls" is the song that should be blasting out of every convertible this summer and is working on recreating that whipped cream-shooting bra. Stay tuned...

Off the Clock with The Checkout Girl: Catch World Cup fever (but not with your hands)

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 15:40:11 +0000

Ah, The World Cup. The 80-year-old international football championship tournament is back and turning my relatively sane friends and neighbors into beer-swilling, referee-hating, armchair (or barstool, as the case may be) goalies. World Cup month (that's right, I said MONTH) is a time when people all over the world come together to yell about how much your country sucks and cheats and is generally inferior to their home country, all in the name of patriotism and sportsmanship.

But the World Cup has other stuff going for it, too. Like boring facts. Did you know that the first World Cup was hosted by Uruguay in 1930? Well, then, did you know that Brazil has won the most World Cups with four big titles under their meshy shorts? Ok, well, did you also know that they are the only country who has never won a World Cup on home soil? Yawn, right?

Well, then, how about sex? Let's talk about World Cup sex. Apparently there has been quite a bit of debate about whether knocking cleats made players perform better or worse on the field. Coaches from both Chile and England have declared publicly that they will not allow their players to engage in naughty business during the tournament. England's manager has reportedly gone so far as to installed cameras in the team hotel in an effort to keep the ladies (or gents, whatever) away from his players. Big Brother-esque or creepy in a Joe Francis taking advantage of young, drunk girls and labeling them "Gone Wild" sort of way? Do I want a sex tape of the English team? Yes. Do I want it to be grainy, security footage? Also yes. But I'd also like them knowing it's being made. And, if they could say my name at some point (wait, are there microphones on security cameras?), well, that would just about make my day.

The manager from Brazil, has a slightly softer heart when it comes to hard lovin'. He is allowing his players to get it on, but only on off days. Seems like a fair compromise, right? Except that if I am a WAG (soccertalk for "Wives And Girlfriends") and I travel all the way from South America to South Africa, I am gonna want lovin' on my schedule (that's right, some of us have a humping schedule -- if you ask, you have to listen patiently while I explain it, that's the rule).

Argentina's team doctor, of whom I am the biggest personal fan, has come down on the side of saying yes to the dirty and, on top of that (well, maybe not on top, exactly), beef and wine. That's right, he says that sex and good food are a part of life and doesn't believe either will take the edge off of his athletes' performances. I don't know much about science, but I do know that whatever happens, the Argentinian players are more likely to be happy at the end of it all!

Speaking of sexytimes, the fans are making up for any dry spell that the players might be having. When South Korea beat Greece at the beginning of the tournament, condom sales in that country increased five-fold. They must REALLY like their soccer there. Oh, and as far as condoms go, before the tournament began, South Africa made a plea to the world. They wanted to have one billion condoms on hand for the inevitable party in the streets (and sheets, apparently). This makes a little more sense when you realize that 40,000 sex workers were expected to visit the country from all over the world to fill the pumped up (ahem) fans' needs. I know that sounds like a whole lot, but when you consider that about 375,000 fans are expected to attend the tournament, that's only a little better than a tenth of a hooker per fan. Also, it's important (and responsible, duh) to note that nearly half of the sex workers in South Africa are HIV-positive, but their President is infamous for having four wives, twenty children, and engaging in sex with a woman (not one of his wives) whom he knew to be HIV-positive but choosing not to wear a condom. Instead, he opted for showering afterward to "cut the risk of contracting HIV". Yikes. Let's hope that the people of South Africa are not looking up to their leader in that way. Or at least that fans from other countries are making the most use out of the billion love balloons.

I guess there is something inherently sexy about sweaty men running around, kicking balls, and then ripping off their shirts. And I suppose that the roar of the crowd could be enough to hum you into happiness. But, whether you are actually attending the tournament in South Africa or hanging with the RVA crew down at Penny Lane, the only way to guarantee a 100% safe World Cup is to blow your own vuvuzela.

The Checkout Girl is a writer/retail superhero originally from San Diego, CA, but currently rockin' and rollin' and whatnot in Richmond, VA. She attended Stephens College in Columbia, MO, where she excelled at keg stands and the rhythm method but realized too late that she couldn't major in either. She spends her free time reading, knitting, watching crappy TV, Googling celebrity breasts, and monitoring the zeitgeist. She chronicles her work escapades at thecheckoutgirl.net and her parenting adventures at fuckyeahmotherhood.com.

Facebook High: On social networks and why I’m not going to the reunion

Catherine Baab-Muguira — Fri, 18 Jun 2010 16:00:53 +0000

When the invitation arrived in my inbox, I was expecting it.

I say, "expecting it," when I really mean that I was deeply, deeply freaked. Had I really been out of high school ten years, and if so, how come I'd accomplished not much at all? But, doctorate or no, I had no desire to attend a reunion.

That was something I'd known as a senior at J.R. Tucker. I knew then I’d never want to come back or see any of the people ever again. I was so devoted to avoiding my high school classmates, I didn’t even join Facebook until 2009.

Background: I've never had a lot of friends. Never been part of a clique or belonged to a sorority or been part of a big, happy, screaming, bothering-and-attracting-the-envy-of-the-other-patrons group in a bar. Call it being an old soul or an introvert or whatever; I am a little bit of a loner. Which might surprise you, because I'm not goth. I look totally normal. Boring, typical, as though I just walked out of Old Navy. These days -- meaning the weekends and my real life -- my husband and I have dinner, drink beers, take walks, and turn down most all of the invitations we receive. Yes, this loner thing is something I choose.

Early last year, when I finally broke down and joined Facebook, it was just because I had to for work.

Right away, of course, I started receiving friend requests from people I'd gone to high school with, just as I’d dreaded doing. There was the mouth-breathing guy who had that year-round cold and the pharmacy in his backpack; there was the girl who kept upgrading her promise ring. Meanwhile I was the girl who read The Catcher in the Rye and accused my whole lunch table of being phonies. For our senior superlatives, I was voted "most mysterious," which I found bizarre, considering I'd gone to school with the same group of kids since the second grade.

Hell, if I was mysterious, they were too. I knew way more about Bill Clinton in 1998 than I did about that girl who sat next to me in AP English and who once asked the teacher, “Existentialism… is that like transcendentalism?” Did her boyfriend at a neighboring high school really exist, or had she made him up? Was that bulimia rumor true? No clue.

Ironically, it’s only been through Facebook that I’ve ever gotten to know my old classmates. For eighteen months now, I have watched the postings of ultrasounds, wedding announcements, Mother's Day shout-outs and Weight Watcher's updates. And I think I understand now how/that these people are people. There they all are: having Memorial Day cookouts and posting the photos, going on vacations to St. Thomas (always St. Thomas—what is that?).

Maybe it was the times, maybe it was just all the high school fakery and my own limitations, but in person, these people never seemed like people. Whereas, on Facebook, they are worried about shit, happy about shit, just like me. Imagine my huge relief. To paraphrase the poet James Harms, if ten years later you can think of your high school classmates without bitterness or even mystification, your sense of alienation and the gentle loneliness will vanish like variables in a long solved equation.

None of this means I want to go and see them at the reunion, though. I am happy connecting with them at this Facebook-type distance; they seem really nice. The only sense of union I have ever known (and will likely ever need) is already taking place online, and thank god for that. The great difficulty in life is recognizing other people as people, counting their concerns as real, understanding them as sincere, taking them seriously, and all this supposedly ill-advised posting of personal information has already given me more insight into my old classmates' lives than I ever had when I saw them every day at school. Maybe to spend hours in some downtown restaurant in their presence would destroy these new-found illusions.

And that’s why I’m clicking “not attending.”

RVANews Father’s Day gift guide

Lindsey Norment — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 10:00:39 +0000

It’s that time again... time to impress the Big Guy, the Head Honcho, the Papa Smurf, the Chief Commander. Whatever you call your old man, make sure you have something planned for his special day. Father’s Day is this Sunday, and RVANews will help you choose the perfect gift for your almost-perfect dad.

Mr. Rookie

Whether he’s got one on the way or already running around after a few kids, he’s going to want to remember these early years. Get over to Richmond Camera in Carytown (3128 W. Cary Street) for their selection of digital cameras (ranging in price $100-300). They even offer a few classes on the basics of photography ($35 and $50).

Mr. Hard Worker

For the dad that just won’t quit, give him a chance to take a breather and relax. We all know it won’t last long, that’s why the Express Massage at Salon Vivace (3426 W. Cary Street) is perfect for this go-getter. A 30-minute break will be the perfect way to recharge before getting back to all his meetings ($50).

If your dad enjoys a cold one at the end of the day, stop by Mongrel (2924 W. Cary Street) and pick up the Big Beer Glass ($15). Holding up to five beers in one glass, this could come in handy after a tough day in the corporate jungle.

Mr. ESPN

For the dad that eats, breathes, and sleeps sports, give him a taste of the local fare. Head over to The Diamond and check out the Flying Squirrels on Father’s Day. For $120, you can get the Pop’s Picnic Package, including four tickets to the game and an all-you-can-eat buffet for the whole family.

Tailgating and sports go hand-in-hand. If your dad is a sports-enthusiast, consider updating his parking lot party gear with a Weber Portable Gas grill from Pleasants Hardware (see website for locations). Ranging in size and price ($35 to $115), you’re sure to find one that’s perfect for his grilling needs.

Mr. Grill-Master

Skip the Kiss the Cook apron and get some accessories that will really make people envious of your dad’s grill skills. The Compleat Gourmet (3030 W. Cary Street) has a great selection of grilling supplies for your master of the coals. Grab some Cedar Grilling Planks -- one box will run you about $25 and includes four different kinds of wooden planks, perfect for adding an extra flavor to your meat. Other accessories could include a grill press ($20) and a grilling stir fry skillet ($25).

Mr. Geekster

While some dads dream of their kids making the winning touchdown at a game, others have visions of their little geniuses carrying home the Nobel Prize for a new scientific discovery. It takes all kinds in this world, and if you find your dad to be a little more on the nerdy side, he is sure to love Geek Dad: Awesomely Geeky Projects and Activities for Dads and Kids to Share (available at Mongrel for $15 or on Amazon.com). This little gem is packed full of projects and ideas for dads and kids to enjoy together. Ever wonder how to create a historically correct pirate treasure map or the exact rules of Dungeons and Dragons? The answers are within.

Mr. Fashion-Conscious

Just because he's a dad doesn’t mean he has to give up his refined sense of fashion. If your dad appreciates the GQ-side of life, drop into Need Supply (3010 W. Cary Street) and pick up a pair of Tried and True Levis ($198). Labeled as Richmond’s source for premium denim, Need Supply is full of great options for the dad with an edge.

Mr. Impossible-to-Shop-For

Most dads are hard to shop for because they are generally low maintenance and don’t want anything. If this is the case, skip the pointless objects that will just sit in the garage all year and spend some quality time with him instead. If he’s into seafood, Richmond has some great options for dining. Take him to The Water Grill (3411 W. Cary Street) and try their Oyster Sampler plate with three different types of oysters for around $24. Or stop by The Hard Shell (1411 E. Cary Street) for their all you can eat crab legs and spend the evening cracking crabs and jokes with your dad (dishes are around $20).

Not into seafood? Pack your own picnic and enjoy a day at Maymont (see website for directions). Dad will appreciate the time together and enjoy checking out the local sites in one of Richmond’s best outdoor parks.

They work hard for the funny

Johnny Hugel — Wed, 16 Jun 2010 10:00:41 +0000

In celebration of their one year anniversary, the Richmond Comedy Coalition's Katie Holcomb, Matt Newman, and David Pijor, sat down with me to talk about the art of being funny, comedy's place in Richmond, and (of course) Nutzy. Over the course of two hours we attempted to tackle the hard questions such as "Can you learn to be funny?" and "What makes Richmond so funny?" and while the answers weren't clear, what was evident was that there is a hidden formula going on that makes this group so comical. With the constant finishing of each others sentences and pauses for the laughter to subside, it is clear that there is something funny going on with this group.

So, are you all the three primary members of the Richmond Comedy Coalition (RCC), or how would you describe that?

DP: We're such a small group, there are 10 core members and a lot of us have different roles.

KH: We're kinda more the business side of it.

DP: We do more of the unfun stuff.

MN: David designs a lot of the posters. I did a lot of the work with the classes that we're teaching now.

DP: I do a lot of suggesting our Facebook page to people.

At what point did the RCC take shape and what was it's goal?

KH: David and I were a big part of the planning stages of it, but basically we just wanted to keep doing improv. As soon as the [Comedy Sportz] theater closed we were coming up with ideas on how to put this group together, how to market it, what we wanted our thing to be, where we wanted to locate ourselves, and we gathered the people around us that we had a lot of faith in comedically and that wanted to be a part of it and still do improv and just went from there. We really decided that what we wanted to do, ultimately, was focus on more long-form, as well as bringing in different kinds of comedy, but also centrally locate it more downtown. We wanted to centralize it in the VCU campus, downtown area so that people down in the city could laugh at us. There's comedy in the city, but there wasn't really improv regularly happening in the city, so that was one of our main goals.

Was teaching at that point part of what you wanted to do?

KH: Down the road it was. But it wasn't our first priority.

DP: We knew we'd like to get to that point where definitely the way to get the art out there is to spread through knowledge and, but at that point we knew we had to have a solid foundation so that people would want to take our classes. It was build interest... and then... plant the seed and then... yeah.

KH: Whatever seeds do after that.

What are the types of classes that you offer?

MN: The current session, there's two classes, they're both improv classes. There's an intro to improv for people who have never done improv before and just want to see what it's about and how to do it. Then I teach a long-form class that's for people who know what improv is.

DP: And have had stage time.

MN: Yeah and want to get a little deeper into performance and how to put a 25-minute set together in front of an audience that looks nice and is good. So that's what we've got now, mostly because the people that we've got are improv people and want to teach improv. Our shows are heavily that because that's our background. For future classes we definitely want to expand into the broader comedic arts. Standup classes, sketch writing, that kinda stuff.

What do you think about comedy's current place in popular culture?

MN: I think it's enjoying a kingly seat.

KH: I'd say comedy is a lot more casual and relatable than it has been in the past, especially with the comedy that is popular with our generation. I think it's not something so much as "I'm going to watch a comedy" as watching something and genuinely enjoying it. It's not as formulated, archaically, comedically, formatted.

DP: Its tough to say because I surround myself with people that pretty much think like me, so I cant see it from the majority so I don't think people who like our type of comedy are in the majority otherwise Conan O' Brien would still have his job. That type of humor, if you look at 30 Rock, if you look at a lot of the NBC lineup right now, a lot of them are [Upright Citizen's Brigade] writers, UCB performers, it has a lot more of an... independent? alternative [feel]? I don't know the word to describe it but it's a lot less joke-based, it's more character-driven.

MN: What was kind of independent and underground in the 90's.

KH: Like The State.

MN: The State, Mr. Show, those things are now sort of mainstream in things like The Office, Parks & Recreation.

DP: I think if Arrested Development started at this time -- I think there's been a huge shift since Arrested Development.

How would you describe improv to someone who was not familiar with it?

KH: Improv is obviously making it up as you go along, but in my opinion, the essence of improv is not only being funny but living in the moment and being real on stage and just letting yourself be real.

MN: I think people get freaked out because they think about performance and being onstage, I think it's less about that and more about your attitude. No matter how much improv you do you always come back to "Yes, and" sorta the first thing you learn. I think it is the best thing to sum up the attitude. You're not thinking about making people laugh or performing or telling jokes -- you're thinking about the person you're in the scene with and just being honest and positive towards what you're doing together.

DP: It boils down to that moment when you feel like you're almost impervious and every wall is down and you're completely invested in the people you're on stage with and not even really paying attention to the audience.

What aspects of Richmond do you find funny?

DP: I find that the things we get excited about... people I know don't really care about watching cars race, or baseball, they just like thinly veiled excuses to get drunk with their friends. I find Cuccinelli funny.

MN: There’s an openness and an honesty around Richmond. I'm still convinced that you can't ever be funnier onstage than people actually are. I think that the things that happen around are way funnier than we could ever invent.

DP But please, come see our shows.

MN: Right, but the fact that people are just really odd, but not really conscious about how odd they are.

MN: Everything about the Arthur Ashe statue.

KH: Yes, oh and Nutzy, what's up with that guy? Why do you have funn with two N's? Get that N outta there.

What are your thoughts on the current performing arts scene in Richmond?

KH: It's strong, but quietly strong. It's something that's out there, but just needs more support to thrive. There's great talent in this city.

DP: I've heard, even from the theater community, that they're struggling pretty hard, and that sucks. I don't know why that's happening.

MN: Whenever anyone talks about Richmond in many ways everything is just about to bubble over the surface... like "Oh man, the fine arts scene along the First Friday's Art Walk if they just get This and This, than it's gonna totally explode." I think it's strong, but I don't know what it needs. Obviously CenterStage is gonna do a lot for performing arts and people going out and seeing live theater, and hopefully a subset of that would be interested in live comedy.

The RCC continues their conquest of Richmond with their One Year Anniversary Show on Thursday at Gallery 5 at 8pm. Get more info at rvacomedy.com, or on their Twitter or Facebook pages. Tickets are just $7. The next session of classes will start in Late July, and in the fall they look to host the 3rd Annual Richmond Improv Fest, which is currently slated for November.

RVA Class of 2010 Superlatives: Nominations

RVANews staff — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 10:00:10 +0000

Since most local high school seniors have recently graduated (or are just about to) we thought it'd be fun to put together a little contest reminiscent of the superlatives many of us voted on as we were getting ready to sport caps and gowns. You know, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.

The categories we've chosen will give us a chance to highlight all that is great about Richmond -- the fun, the quirky, even the inspiring. Feel free to nominate an individual or an organization that you think best represents the spirit of the category. Nominations will run through 10pm on Sunday, June 20. Voting will take place later that week with the winners being announced soon after.

Take a minute to browse the categories, read the descriptions, and then click the big, fat link at the bottom of the page to submit your nominations. We can't wait to see what you guys have to say!

Most likely to succeed

Which person, organization, neighborhood, business, etc. in Richmond shows the most promise?

Most artistic

Richmond is jammed-packed with creative folks ranging from the very established to up-and-comers. We're sure you'll have no trouble coming up with ideas for this one.

Most musically talented

Which Richmond musician or band do you think has got that special something?

Class clown

Is it the brains behind Tobacco Avenue? How about the folks at Richmond Comedy Coalition? Or maybe there's just some random dude on Twitter who makes you spit Diet Coke all over your laptop on a regular basis.

Cutest couple

Richmond's got all kinds of adorable power couples. Who is the MOST adorablest?

Most athletic

With college sports, professional soccer, and a new but beloved baseball team, there's quite a bunch from which to choose.

Biggest gossip

Sure, the word 'gossip' sounds somewhat negative, but there are some people in this town who are ALWAYS in the know. Who do you go to when you want all the gory details?

Prom King

Ok, this isn't really superlative, but we mostly just want to see what you come up with.

Prom Queen

Same deal as the king, but probably prettier.

Most spirited

Who is totally, head-over-heels in love with Richmond and will do whatever it takes to make it wonderful?

Complete your nominations now!

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: The Real Housewives of All Time

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 16:00:26 +0000

All three of my lady friends and my boss are nuts about the Real Housewives shows. I'm always being asked, "Did you see Real Housewives last..." and then they remember who they are talking to and how I mostly only like cartoons and shows with singing or children in beauty pageants and go talk to someone more interesting. I can't help it; as soon as rich ladies start complaining about their first world problems, I'm all "Where's the remote?" and then "Where are the Doritos?"

I just think the show could be better. I mean, the premise isn't bad. Who doesn't want to peek in on housewives and see what they do all day? Hell, the whole world is watching men run up and down a field, chasing a small black and white ball and acting as if their lives depended on it. If you replaced the whiny, bourgeois women they've mistakenly called "housewives" (unless the definition of the word has changed) with some more interesting characters, I might be drawn in. Of course, I'm going to need my pick across time and space. That's totally doable, right? Yes, it's called CGI and it's what makes Betty White possible. We shall call it The Real Housewives Of All Time.

Hands down, my first pick for RHOAT is Sylvia Plath. You want drama? This woman had it in spades! She wrote The Bell Jar, a staple in every teen girl's book collection, in which the female protagonist experiences mental illness and attempts suicide. Over here in Real Life Land, Sylvia killed herself a month after the book was published. Life imitating art imitating life? Seems so. And, get this: not long before her suicide, her husband left her for another woman. Who had a child by him after Sylvia's death. Then killed herself and their child, the same way Sylvia had taken her own life. Hey, Real Housewives, you've got NOTHING on that!

With all that heavy sadness, RHOAT is going to need some comedy. Might I suggest Roseanne Barr Pentland Arnold Thomas? First, she really knows how to write family relationships. She is a real wife (several times over) and a real mom who doesn't sugarcoat anything, but showed that underneath the tired, snarky exterior of the modern working mom was a woman who loved her family relentlessly. Also a big factor in her being cast? She is now BACK with her first husband! That she married in 1974! Let's see one of these weak-ankled, french-tipped Real Housewives be half as interesting. I don't think so, princess!

In an effort to bring some class to our show, I am also casting Dolley Madison as one of the RHOAT. What? The wife of fourth President of the United States, James Madison? Ya heard! This chick was so super cool that not only was she First Lady while her hubs was President, but she did a lot of the First Lady duties while third Prez, Thomas Jefferson, was in office because he was a widower and didn't have a First Lady of his own. And lest you think she's too boring to bring the RHOAT heat, James Madison was her SECOND husband; her first husband (and one of her sons) died in the yellow fever epidemic. Oh, and she was introduced to her second hubs, 17 years her senior and not yet President, by Aaron Burr. You know, the guy who killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel while he was VICE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES? Sorry, Real Housewives. This stuff makes you look Real Boring.

My last pick to round out the cast of RHOAT, and the one most likely to deliver the crazy, is Jaqueline Susann. Married three times and rumored to have had affairs with both Coco Chanel and Ethel Merman, the Valley of the Dolls author would be loads of fun and bring all the right pharmaceuticals to make the RHOAT friendships possible. Though she was plagued by guilt over having her autistic four-year-old put in an institution (where he remains to this day), she was an outspoken, scandal-ridden, determined powerhouse of a woman. Truman Capote mocked her writing, and went so far as to say she looked like a "truck driver in drag" on national television. When Jaqueline threatened to sue him, he went back on television to apologize "to truck drivers everywhere". A cat fight with Truman Capote? Totally RHOAT material!

Look, Real Housewives, no one is saying you have to change your show. It's wildly successful and, let's face it, I am the girl who finds Berenstain Bears compelling television. Still, you might get a little more longevity with my idea. Having all of history to choose from will do that for you. I just can't wait for season two, and the Mary Antoinette/Courtney Love brawls!

No rumors here: Thrift boutique owners celebrate third anniversary

Erica Terrini — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 16:00:07 +0000

This past Sunday, Rumors Boutique celebrated its third anniversary at Hadad’s Lake with food, live music, dancing, and more than enough lake-side and water activities.

Owners and Virginia Commonwealth University alumnus, Casey Longyear and Marshe Wyche, both 25, say since Rumors first opened, they made the switch from “eclectic boutique to a trendy thrift shop” to remain open throughout the recession and help their customers shop happy.

True enough, Rumors experienced a rocky start and encountered financial challenges, but now Longyear and Wyche say they are able to give money to the community by recycling clothing, as they buy over 4,000 items per month from their clientele and donate part of their sales to local nonprofits weekly, all while aiming to connect local communities and support small businesses.

RVANews spoke with one of the notorious Rumors owners, Longyear, to take a closer look at the past three years, during which two recent graduates -- with a dream of shirts, shoes, pants, etc. for all -- became owners of one of Richmond’s most established (and beloved) thrift shops.

Where are you originally from?

I’m from Rappahannock County, near Skyline Drive. I went to a high school where I graduated with six other kids, and the nearest town that even had a mall was 45 minutes away. (Manassas, actually, where Marshe is from!)

What role would you say fashion has filled in your life?

It’s changed so much. I grew up wearing a uniform and changing into three or more outfits on uniform-free days at school. It was the one time you could express yourself through appearance.

I was raised on thrift store shopping, and poring over catalogues to see what was actually considered cool. I used to personalize everything I wore by sewing it in some way, whether by taking big shirts in or making skirts out of crazy sheets and pillowcases.

Getting dressed was always a big deal to me; I had to love what my outfit expressed. Now I love just looking in my closet and knowing that even though I sell most of my clothes at Rumors, I love every item I own. (Even though I’ve been known to sell the dress I’m wearing off of myself.)

How would you describe your relationship with your customers?

I identify a lot with our customers—it’s a pretty interesting relationship. We have customers we talk about music with, share traveling stories back and forth with, see out at bars or shows, or just look forward to seeing in or out of the store.

The line between friendship and customer gets blurred more often than not, and I like it like that. We are in the middle of our demographic, so we knew a lot of people who shopped with us before we opened, and I graduated from the fashion department so I can identify with a lot of students who come in too.

Who or what are some of your greatest inspirations?

My parents definitely—they both have run their own businesses and encouraged the idea of Rumors since it first popped into our heads. Once we came up with the idea we never doubted it, and for me that was largely because of how I was raised.

Kim Blankenship, the owner of Dominion Skateboards, where I used to work, was also a major inspiration. As was Marco-Marco, the designer I interned with, in (Los Angeles, California). They both showed me that I had this in me as long as I worked hard enough.

You’re a Virginia Commonwealth University graduate. What did you study there?

Fashion Merchandising, and I had a focus on Nonprofit Management, too.

When did you meet your business partner (Wyche)?

Actually, at a party at my first apartment—I didn’t meet her that night, but she had met my roommate and came back the next day to help clean up. We planned a lemonade stand outside of my apartment the next day and got on the news.

When did you have the idea to open up a boutique?

My last semester at VCU, I interned with a small boutique in Los Angeles. As soon as I got back, Marshe moved into my apartment with me, and we had a lot of friends coming and visiting from out of town. We wanted to show them what we loved about Richmond, and we found it hard to do but weren’t sure what to do about it.

The night of my graduation we threw the idea out there about opening a shop and said we’d give ourselves the summer to decide. I went traveling for the summer, and I texted Marshe from Barcelona saying, ‘Let’s do it,’ and she wrote back, ‘Great.’

What challenges, if any, did you anticipate and face when first starting your business?

Tons. When we first started planning this, we thought we’d need a huge loan, and we didn’t get accepted for anything. At one point, I was promised a $5,000 loan and on my way to sign the papers, they called and canceled, saying we were too big of a risk. No one seemed to totally believe in us until we actually opened our doors.

Friends helped a lot of course, getting the store ready. Even finding a location was really hard, we didn’t get in our building until three weeks before we wanted to open. Everything has happened in a perfect order to learn from.

How do you and Wyche collaborate for work?

Our strengths and weaknesses complement each other so well. Right after I graduated we planned a fashion show together, and that’s when we saw that when one of us is stressed, the other isn’t. We literally each do a little bit of everything, and we know exactly when the other needs a break or when the other wants to start a new project.

Can you explain the crossover from a boutique to a thrift store?

I originally wanted to bring something totally new to Richmond -- independent lines that weren’t available anywhere nearby, other than New York or Los Angeles. We were the first store in the states to carry over a dozen lines, from Iceland to Spain to South Africa.

However, we didn’t mark clothing up enough to even pay our bills and it was still too expensive to be a store located near campus. Marshe and I both had a ton of clothes in all different sizes and styles, so we started bringing them in to sell as well. Then friends who wanted to support us but couldn’t shop with us started donated us clothing.

Finally, December 2008 was a MISERABLE selling month and we knew we couldn’t keep doing it. We decided randomly one day to make the switch, and made the transformation in three days.

Now, you buy over 4,000 items per month and donate partial sales to nonprofits. What are some of those nonprofits?

We do weekly events called Shop for a Reason that I actually came up with when we were still a ‘new’ boutique about two years ago when the recession was first hitting. We thought it would not only bring awareness to nonprofits that needed help, but also make customers not feel guilty about spending.

We sometimes contact nonprofits in the community that we think might need help, and customers often ask us if they can book a date for groups they work with or for projects they want to complete. We also donate money to two nonprofits a month, giving ten cents for every bag a customer doesn’t take.

Can you explain how you network with other local business?

We try to be as community involved as we possibly have time for. We formed our business out of a love for the community, so it makes sense we would want to promote business at other local stores and book events at local bars and galleries.

I recently coordinated a fashion show as a fundraiser for Gallery5, and Marshe has booked a few shows there. We book dance parties at Empire, where we actually wrote a decent amount of our business plan, and we send people to other shops whenever we hear what they’re looking for or know what their style is.

How about other cities, states and even countries—have you and Wyche reached out to other businesses that have similar goals?

Always, whenever we travel we love meeting other business owners. This spring I went thrifting in Los Angeles and met so many awesome individuals who own used clothing shops, and we just got back from Puerto Rico where we met the owner of a vintage shop there who was so inspiring. We always document it and blog it, we love being able to help promote their businesses.

How do you utilize social networking online?

Facebook and Twitter and blogging have been life savers for so many small and large businesses. We have had basically no money to advertise with and these mediums allowed us to get ourselves out there, show what we have and our personalities.

Do you have any other jobs or volunteer positions?

Every summer I work as a counselor at the VCU Art Intensive Program, which is a college preparatory art program for high school students.

When we first opened, we each held quite a few jobs. I worked the door at some bars downtown so I could be in the store during the day, and Marshe cooked at some breakfast spots so she could be in Rumors in the evening. I did tons of one day gigs on craigslist each week too. That’s how we kept our doors open the first year and a half. Oh, and my car got totaled and rather than getting a new car, the money we got from that paid rent, too.

We both volunteer at the Firehouse Theater and at other art events around the city, but lately we haven’t been able to donate as much time as we’d like. Our Shop for a Reasons let us feel a little more involved.

For those of you interested, take a look at Longyear’s top picks for music, books, night spots and more in Richmond and beyond...

Music
Bobbettes, Sleigh Bells, Sallie Ford & the Sound Outside—I check out BrooklynVegan’s blog for new music too.

Books/magazines
I just read The Road by Cormac McCarthy and If You Have to Cry, Go Outside by Kelly Cutrone, and totally recommend both.

Food
Brunch at the new 821 Cafe, lunch at KubaKuba, and dinner and wine at Edo’s Squid.

Online
RVAblogs.com -- it’s amazing our city has such a great resource!

Night spots
The roof of Havana 59, shows at Strange Matter or Plaza Bowl.

For those working on their fitness
Hadad’s Lake! We just had our third anniversary party at this family-run water park that is 10 minutes outside of the city and my arms and abs hurt from going off the rope swing so many times, and Marshe says she has a dance hang over! Also, ladies night at the Southside roller rink.

Rumors Boutique is located at 404 N. Harrison Street. They buy clothing between the hours of 11am and 5pm Monday through Friday, and from noon to 4pm on Saturday. To learn more about them, stop by their website, follow them on Twitter, or check out their Facebook page.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: What’chu talkin’ ’bout?

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 15:59:46 +0000

Child actors are an interesting bunch. At a time when they are too young to understand or enjoy it fully, they are adored by the world. Then, when the adorable becomes acne-ridden and the bowl cut become greasy with adolescence, they are tossed aside for the next big (small) thing. Their 15 minutes comes early and, sometimes, it's all they get. Nerds ain't invented a time machine yet, so they are left with the choice of either sitting around and talking about it for the rest of their lives like some dang Bruce Springsteen song or getting on with grown-up life. My advice: go to college, find another talent, have your breasts surgically reduced or your nose made less ethnic looking. Change or die, Opie.

As it turns out, the fun size star of Diff'rent Strokes and one-time candidate for Governor of California (beaten by the only more ridiculous person to run, by the way), Gary Coleman, had trouble choosing between the change and the die and ended up with a death that was no less bizarre than his life. Not plagued by addictions, like some who were millionaires before they got their first pube, he battled with his parents over money, had constant legal problems, was plagued by a lifetime of kidney and heart problems, and was a close friend of The Sads, twice attempting suicide.

A few days ago, a 911 call was released, allowing the world to hear the five minutes or so between Gary Coleman's mysterious fall at his home about a week ago and the ambulance's arrival. He would live for two more days in the hospital before passing away from his head injury. The behavior of his ex-wife, Shannon Price (they had quietly gotten divorced just a year after being married but, two years later, still lived together), who made the emergency call, is like something out of a bad dream. You know the dream you have where Gary Coleman is bleeding profusely and you try to help but can't make yourself care? Just me? Nevermind, then.

After all of the "What's your emergency" biz, she starts out dramatically. She says that she asked him to make her something to eat and then, “I heard this big bang, I went downstairs. Blood everywhere. I don’t know if he’s okay. I’m not down there right now because I have a fever, if I get stressed out I’m going to faint.” Oh, hey, Scarlett O'Hara, someone is bleeding to death ON YOUR FLOOR. Don't get stressed out or anything. I guess the good news is, if you DO faint from stress there is already an ambulance on the way.

Then, when asked by the 911 operator, “Is there any way you can go down there at all?” she replied, “I’ll try, I don’t know, I mean…” and follows up with, “I’ve just been kind of sick. I don’t want to be traumatized right now." Stress, fainting, AND trauma? What is this, an emergency or an episode of Days Of Our Lives? Will he die then seem to come back from the dead but you find out later that he really WAS gone and the second, resurrected him was really the first him's identical twin? No. Except maybe the dying part. None of us want to be traumatized, but life is traumatic. Sometimes, I've already washed my hair but then reach for the conditioner and it's empty. Sometimes, I've already prepared my mouth but then reach for the cheese and it's gone. Trauma. Still, I rarely leave people to bleed on my floor.

Finally, after much prompting from the operator, she yells to the other room, “Gary, are you okay? … Stay where you are.” Then tells him, “Gary, you have to put pressure on your wound.” Perfect. If he could only heal himself. Wait! He played an angel in "The Gary Coleman Show," a totally not hilarious cartoon about earning your wings. Maybe, just maybe, the ex-wife was on to something. And maybe, just maybe, she really is as unhelpful as she seems here.

Next, she seems sort of human, saying, “Yeah, I’m just panicked. I don’t know what to do… I just don’t want him to die. I’m freaking out." Me, too. From listening to this audio. At one point she indicates to the operator that the dog was bothering him but she's got a hold of it now. Great.

She finally goes nearer to where he has been injured. You can hear that she's still a fair distance away by the volume and tone of her voice. It sounds like she tosses a towel or something over to him. “You have to put this on your head … Keep pressure on this, ok, hold this. You need to sit down. Sit down! Gary, sit down!” But, as quickly as her Fight kicked in, her Flight comes back and you hear her making vomiting noises. “I’m gagging, I got blood on myself, I can’t deal.”

The ambulance arrives, and the call is over. She doesn't have to deal anymore and, two days later, she is the one who makes the end of life decision for him. A sad ending for someone who just kept trying to get a (tiny) leg up his whole life.

I like to think that, when they die, child actors get fifteen more minutes and they know enough this time around to spend them wisely. As for Gary Coleman, I picture him finally earning his wings and flying up to heaven, demanding to know, "What'chu talkin' 'bout, God?"

The Checkout Girl is a writer/retail superhero, originally from San Diego, CA, but currently rockin' and rollin' and whatnot in Richmond, VA. She attended Stephens College in Columbia, MO, where she excelled at keg stands and the rhythm method but realized too late that she couldn't major in either. She spends her free time reading, knitting, watching crappy TV, Googling celebrity breasts, and monitoring the zeitgeist. She chronicles her work escapades at thecheckoutgirl.net and her parenting adventures at fuckyeahmotherhood.com.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Hollywood Walk of Shame

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 31 May 2010 15:28:50 +0000

This past week, adult film superpower Vivid Entertainment released a sex tape starring Kendra Wilkinson. To quote the never-officially-been-a-Playmate-but-has-appeared-nude-in-Playboy-several-times, herself: "It broke my heart."

At first I was nonplussed. Why would a girl who agreed to date a multimillionaire porn magnate 60 years her senior, share him with two other beautiful women, and have the whole thing broadcast on television for fame and fortune, be so upset about the world of pervs at large (no judgment, I'm a soldier in the perv army) watching her do the nasty? I mean, she's being paid $680,000 plus 50 percent of sales, so what's the big whoop, right?

Wrong, apparently.

In fact, Kendra is convinced that this is "going to probably be the hardest time of our lives." She hasn't been married long enough to know that gem should be saved for when she wins an Oscar and he bangs a tore up, tattooed Nazi girl. Live and learn.

But Kendra is not the first celebrity to feel the sting of unauthorized on-camera nudity. No, plenty of stars have, well, starred in naughty tapes of their own. Let's face it, news of a possible sex tape isn't terribly shocking when it comes to some stars.

We all know about Tonya Harding's wedding night video. Is there anything you'd rather watch LESS than her making an o-face while wearing a giant 1980's-style puff of tulle on her head?

And who HASN'T seen Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee get it on... and felt just a little bit worse about themselves but then remembered the hepatitis and went from self-conscious back to smug?

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Paris Hilton's night-vision grunt-fest with Rick Solomon who ALSO got busy with Pamela Anderson and even married Shannen Doherty once because, you know, he likes his ladies classy.

And don't forget the scandal surrounding Brat Packer Rob Lowe, an underage girl, and some videotape at the Democratic National Convention. And don't forget the humiliation of singing a duet with Snow White during the Academy Awards only a year later. Doubt there's a god? YouTube that and witness a miracle.

Then, there are other celebs who seem more intelligent than to film their nudity (because it almost always, eventually, sees the light), but have. Like Eric Dane and Rebecca Gayheart (SPOILER ALERT: they are not the only two people in this video, wink-wink-nudge-nudge-they-throw-naked-parties), Gene Simmons (who, oddly, wears a shirt and chews gum throughout the dirty), Colin Farrell (but I have to think that he just probably likes to watch himself do anything and doesn't care who knows it), and Carrie Prejean (haha, just kidding, did you see where I called Carrie Prejean "intelligent"?).

I just have to think that drug use is a big motivator when it comes to making the (poor) decision to film yourself playing spider monkey with your paramour. For example: Mindy McCready (Miss Hot Mess four years running and on track to pull a cinco!), Kelsey Grammer (I'm sure it's tasteful, you know, because of Frasier and stuff), Dustin Diamond (titled "Screeched" and possibly just ordered by me based on the hilarious DVD box), and Kate Moss/Pete Doherty (if no one's is vomiting then it's not a party, fatty) all have captured their private time on camera. Is one of the side effects of being high that you think you're hotter than you actually are? Because 1) obviously, and 2) pass whichever drugs do that.*

In addition to the sweet comedy gold to be mined from the celebrity sex tape phenomenon, there's also a lesson to be learned. The moral of THIS story is: always wear a President Reagan mask when getting it on. Even if your lover has the tape rolling, people will think that your bodacious bod belongs to Ronnie. Oh, and extra points if you proclaim, "Mister Gorbachev, tear down this bra!"

*DISCLAIMER: TCG does NOT condone the use of drugs as a confidence booster. Instead, try dating someone uglier than you. not kidding, it totally works the same way and is not illegal.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Shoo be doo bop ba dow!

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 17 May 2010 10:00:18 +0000

The Twitters are all abuzz about the news that, after 20 years, Law & Order has been canceled. Smooth move, TV execs, canceling a show that many of us have grown up with. It's like you WANT an Internet riot on your hands!

If I were the President of Television (totally a thing), I'd handle my business mighty differently. For instance, there would be at least three fewer versions of CSI, George Lopez would get a daily kick in the junk, and shows would be forbidden from running over to :02 or :32 and messing with people's DVRs. Also, I'd create an All Bob Ross channel, cancel everything with "Dance" in the title, and bring back the greatest television show of all time to save you from a whole summer of Real Housewives reruns.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... Full House: All Growed Up.

Seriously, not a week goes by that I don't stop and think to myself, at least once, "Dang, I wish Full House were back on." Crazy, right? Yeah, like a Michael J. Fox! Really, what are any of the greatest sitcom stars of the late 80's/early 90's doing these days that would prevent a full on Tannerpalooza? While it's true, we've seen the cast members in a different light since the show's cancellation, the public is now much savvier and practically demands the grittiness of a more realistic family.

For instance, dad for all seasons, Danny Tanner. News: Bob Saget is an actor. Actor. He ACTED like someone's dad. But he's also a comedian. And you didn't get far on the 80's comedy circuit without a skinny tie, an expensive coke habit, and a few F-bombs. Big whoop, he tells dirty jokes. Guess what? ALL of our dads tell dirty jokes! As gross as it is to think about, it's sort of a dad thing. Sure, your Pops might tell you to pull his finger, but I can almost guarantee he's got another "pull my" joke for the rest of the world.

I would think that surely the Olsen twins have time to share the Michelle Tanner role, between them. While one is acting, the other can stand outside and chain smoke. How do you tell the difference between Mary Kate or Ashley loitering on a corner and a homeless woman? The Olsen twin has a bored expression and is rolling around on a pile of money. Maybe if we text them the invite to Tannerpalooza but pretend it's a rave, they will be more likely to show up. Note to self: Call Samantha Ronson and see if she can peel Lindsay Lohan off of her for long enough to DJ this soiree. Second note to self: Buy Ecstasy.

As for Jodie Sweetin as Stephanie "How Rude!" Tanner, I don't judge. I mean, who doesn't have a large-breasted meth-addicted relative? What does her rack have to do with it? How do you think she got the drugs? No, really, if she doesn't have a prior commitment to Dr. Drew's Celebrity Rehab, I'll bet she'd be happy to do it. In fact, she's preggers now which would make a good storyline. Remember when Jesse and Rebecca had those Zack and Cody looking twins toward the end? Babies are ratings gold, people! Write it into the script!

While Candice Cameron, much like her brother Kirk, has found Jesus, I'll bet she would give up the bit parts on ABC Family she's been thrown to be good ol' DJ Tanner again. I mean, the prospect of reliving the adventure where she skipped school to see Stacey Q in concert at the mall should be enough to convince her. Besides, she did an episode of That's So Raven, so how picky can she be? And her husband, named Valeri, gave up ice hockey to make wine so, if she doesn't agree to do it, we definitely should NOT start a rumor that he's an alcoholic. And a woman.

Oh, and Wikipedia confirms that Dave Coulier, the comic genius who played Joey Gladstone, is, in fact, still alive, still talking about Alanis, and still loving hockey. Oh, Canada.

Sadly, since ER went off the air, John Stamos, the swarthiest and, arguably, most employable member of the cast has been virtually relegated to the bread line. His only hope at this point, and I'm counting on it with every fiber of my being, is to pick up the mantle of Jesse Katsopolis, get the band back together, and do a holycrapmywildestdreamshavecometrue Beach Boys/Jesse and the Rippers musical episode. Or The Jess Man. Whichever.

You guys, there are some people who would throw millions at this project. After all, it's Hollywood. But, as the President of Television, I really think we could get Full House: All Growed Up up and running by summer for about 500 bucks, a few cases of cheap beer, and a trip to the pharmacy. And if anyone tells that Kimmy girl, they are SO not getting any drugs.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Hollywood stole my childhood

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 10 May 2010 15:45:23 +0000

The news hit me like a punch in the gut. Jennifer Garner and Jessica Biel are set to star in a big screen remake of, get this: Laverne & Shirley. I immediately hit the Google running and found it to be true. Garry Marshall and Jamie Foxx are working together to bring a modern version of the vintage 1970's sitcom to movie theaters. Modern take, you ask? Yes. So modern that instead of an "L" emblazoned on Laverne's trademark sweaters (Oh, god, remember the torpedo bra under those sweaters? Classic!), she will sport a tattoo in the shape of that letter. Now, I don't know about you, but for me, the prospect of this is more sacrilegious than The Passion of the Christ. I took my Google powers even further and found out that there are plenty of remakes in the works, courtesy of Hollywood. So I decided to share the horror (and joy) with you.

Gilligan's Island is also on the list of graves to rob for fun and profit. Honestly, the original doesn't really float my boat (don't worry, there are plenty more where that came from), but I'm not that crazy about the prospect of watching The Professor whittle an iPhone from some driftwood or fashion a DVR from sea grass, a fish skeleton, and two coconuts. While there are no parts officially cast, series creator Sherwood Schwartz says that he would like to see Michael Cera in the role of Gilligan and Beyoncé as Ginger. So, I guess that they are seven strangers who get shipwrecked in Hell?

Other rumored TV to movie projects are a comedy version of Dallas (starring Ben Stiller), a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles prequel, and both Fraggle Rock and Muppet movies. Ouch! My childhood!

And it's not only old television shows that are being plundered for your dollars. Nope, plenty of old movies are being remade into new ones, as well. Russell Brand, who has his dirty little fingers in a lot of pies (including Katy Perry's), is rumored to be attached to star in remakes of both Drop Dead Fred and Arthur. Holy crap good casting, as he always seems 1) drunk and 2) crazy. If we could only get him to play a homeless man eating a giant wedge of cheese, I'd say that Hollywood had represented every side of this multifaceted man-gem. Oh, and there will never be another theme song that even comes close to the awesomeness of the Christopher Cross original, "Arthur's Theme," so give it up movie makers.

Classically crappy 1980's movie Overboard is being retooled with Will Smith on board (get it?) as producer and Jennifer Lopez filling the Goldie Hawn role. While I can see her as a spoiled rich bitch with a yacht who mistreats a carpenter (in fact, if I hadn't seen the original about 30 times, I would have no trouble believing this was based on an incident from last weekend), the fact that there is no male cast to play the Kurt Russell part at this time makes me fear that we are in for a Jennifer Lopez/Marc Anthony romp, which I cannot abide. It might have worked for Goldie and Kurt but, trust me, Jen and Marc, you are no Goldie and Kurt. Take note: this is another Garry Marshall film. It's like he's having an "Everything Must Go" sale. On his soul.

The team that brought you Wedding Crashers is resurrecting National Lampoon's Vacation. Of course the classic road trip movie would be terrible without Chevy Chase, right? Never fear, he is set to come back. AS THE GRANDFATHER. What the hell, jerks? I mean, yeah, he's got quite a bit of snow on the roof these days and, well, a few more wrinkles, a bit of a stoop when he walks, and, oh, the heck with it. Just do it. But if "Holiday Road" is not the theme song, so help me. Empty threats? I got 'em.

Best Little Whorehouse In Texas is not only a super-fun musical (and possible title for my autobiography), it's another movie remake that's currently in the works. The ladies who adapted Legally Blonde from a novel to a major motion picture are working on this and, really, Dolly and Burt cameos would just about make my life. But I've seen Legally Blonde and, damnit, I need some bawdy in my whorehouse and I just don't know if these girls can bring it.

More movie-to-movie remakes coming soon to a soul crushing near you are Dune, Endless Love, Flight of the Navigator, Gremlins, Honey, I Shrunk The Kids, The Neverending Story, Romancing the Stone, Short Circuit, and Teen Wolf. In short, many of the movies that we grew up with are being dragged out, crap electroplated, and CGI'd for the Twilight generation... thereby taking quite the dump on my formative years.

While I'm certain that Gossip Girl's Chace Crawford will make a magnificent Kevin Bacon from Footloose, I'm gonna stick with my memories. As far as remakes go, as the kids say, "Everything old is new again," but I've got my moon, I've got my New York City, I've got my schlemiel! and schlimazel! Now get offa my lawn.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: SADIFT Club

The Checkout Girl — Tue, 04 May 2010 16:00:47 +0000

Good news! Sandra Bullock got a baby and now everything is going to be ok! The Best Actress Oscar winner adopted a little boy three whole months ago but just broke the news on the cover of People Magazine a few days ago. This begs the question: Has she been keeping him in a closet?

I mean, her husband Jesse James was recently revealed to be a bit of a white supremacist dirtbag and paparazzi has been sitting on her 24 hours a day. I know the baby is just a, well, baby, but is he only now seeing sunshine for the first time in his life? Or has she been spray painting him gold and carrying him around this whole time, daring us to mention that Oscar has gotten a bit chubby? It's also been reported that she has filed for divorce from the motorcycle manwhore and plans to finalize the adoption as a single parent. I'd like to give that girl an Oprah-esque "You go, girl!" and maybe a tittybump (okay, just the tittybump) for getting on with it.

With the adoption of little Louis, Sandra has become an official member of the "Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves" club. The "It" being parenting through adoption. The headquarters is in Hollywood, but the trend says there will be a branch near you very soon. Just like gladiator sandals, leggings, and giant sunglasses, these things take time to trickle down to the little people. Since you can't just take an adopted child, stick them on a plane with a backpack and a note, and send them back to their country of origin, let's hope that the trend lasts a little longer than shooties (What? Oh, they are shoes, they are booties, they make your legs look like tree trunks. Don't worry about it).

If the SADIFT Club has a president, surely it is Mia Farrow. She's been married twice, had four biological children, and adopted five more with her various partners, but this lady has been independent like a Beyoncé song for 18 years and adopted six children on her own. Mom Of The World, much? You raise 15 kids, there is bound to be heartache. Not everyone gets along and she's lost three children: two to sickness, one to Woody Allen. Still, the fact is that she took in eleven children that needed parented and did just that. Viva, President Farrow!

Vice-President of the SADIFT Club and runner-up in the Ms. Mom Of The World contest is Angelina Jolie. Yes, she is sexily paired with Brad Pitt now, and they've adopted a child and had three biological babies (sexily, I might add), but her first two children were adopted by just her and later legally became Jolie-Pitts. The beauty of Angelina, aside from the obvious, is that that even if Brad decided to rejoin Team Aniston or found another team, altogether, she would pack up those six kids and carry on like it ain't no thang. She's THAT maternal. This chick is Lady Madonna, personified. Sexily.

And, speaking of Madonna (and sinewy arms), she's jumped on the Jolie Express and gotten herself a couple of babies of her own. While there's been much ballyhoo about, and legal trouble surrounding the adoptions of her son and daughter, she has fallen in love with her Malawian babies and, let's face it, provided a pretty comfortable life for two children that wouldn't have had many opportunities had they stayed in their native country (her son had already suffered malaria, tuberculosis, and pneumonia by the time he came to live with her).

Diane Keaton, never one to do anything expected (aside from sporting some kind of menswear every single time you see her), adopted a daughter at age 50 and a son at 55 after the death of her father, when she began to realize her own mortality. Mortality or not, from all reports, she's a wonderful mother and says that not ever having been married hasn't made her life any less and that "That old maid myth is garbage." Huzzah, lady, now no more fedoras!

Other super-cool members of the SADIFT Club include Sheryl Crow, Meg Ryan, Sharon Stone, and Mary-Louise Parker. And, sometimes, though less frequently but just as impressively, Brothers Are Doing It For Themselves, like Oscar De La Renta and Willie Garson. How empowering is that?

I don't know how often the Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves Club meets, or where, but you know that's gotta be the coolest place on Earth for that time, with star power shining straight up out of that building like a beacon to the mothership and one enormous herd of happy, loved kids. Oh, but nobody tell Rosie O'Donnell. She'll insist on coming and cute patootie it up. Barf.

Off the clock with The Checkout Girl: Katetastrophe

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 16:00:57 +0000

Mother's Day is nearly upon us. What? Already? Yes. Consider this your one and only reminder to go out and get your mom something nice. Or make her some macaroni art. Whichever. Sadly, I only have two children and so am guaranteed, at best, two somethings, but think about moms of multiples. The Kate Gosselins, Nadya Sulemans, and Michelle Duggars of the world have it SO GOOD on Mother's Day. They must, right? Why, then, is Kate Gosselin always crying?

Let's get one thing straight: I am not about the Kate Hate. In fact, Kate Gosselin and her eight pieces of trouser fruit haven't really been on my radar at all. I didn't watch her show, read her books, get caught up in her hairstyle or her husband's adultery, and haven't taken sides in her War of the Roses-esque divorce. However, the media is not pleased with the fact that I have, thus far, managed to ignore Kate, and they continue to pummel me with her face that looks like it was injection-molded in that permanent half-smile/half-grimace, her bad extensions, and her french tips, from every angle.

Now, from what I've gathered, Kate has written a third book (what? did I say "THIRD"? yes. yes, I did) and is touring the country, annoying the piss out of me with it.

The thing that is really getting my goat is her traveling pity party, which is conveniently being broadcast on every station...
"Boohoo, I'm a single mom."
"Boohoo, I don't see my kids enough because my 'job' takes me away."
"Boohoo, I wish I could trade places with my babysitter." (Really? because I can't THINK of a worse job than being your babysitter).

You know what, Kate? If you can believe it, you can achieve it! And if you can achieve it, I sure as hell hope you can shut the shit up about it!

Let me tell you a secret, Kate Gosselin: CELEBRITY IS NOT A JOB. Wish you could be home with your kids more? Don't they have a WalMart in your town? You are probably completely useless with heavy lifting or making change, but I'll bet they'd love to have you as a greeter. No blue vest for you? Fine. You look like a damn dental hygienist, so how about that? You'd have a captive audience to regale with stories about the time you were as easily recognized as the President, just for having a roomy uterus. Skeeved by teeth? Ok then, answer phones at your town's largest Hyundai/Subaru dealer. I don't care. But don't continue crying about things that you can change.

Also, how dare you call yourself a single mom? I've been that exact thing for 13 years and it has never afforded me the opportunity to fly all over the country, touting a book of letters to my kids. You know, things I wish I could tell them but I can't because I'm not there. I'm out touting books. It's obvious that you have little respect for your philandering ex, but I hear he's the one who is home, taking care of your eight little gravy trains. You joked on Leno that you're not sure if Jon has a job or not but, teehee and eyeroll, "not to your knowledge." Seems, Kate, that his job is raising the kids while you are out Dancing With The Hasbeens. Do you realize that you are coming off as a dick while he is looking like a hero? I'm completely sure that's unintended and I'm angry with you for making that Ed Hardy-wearing jackass look like the good guy.

In short, Kate, I'm a little insulted. Please stop representing yourself as a single mom and, for Pete's sake, stop saying you are doing things for moms everywhere. You are, quite obviously, doing things for yourself. Which is fine. Just own it. Oh, and stop by to see your kids once in a while. I hear they are beginning to think that your phone number starts with 1-800 because that's what they see on TV. Clearly, you are a 1-900 girl.

Off the Clock with The Checkout Girl: The good, the bad, and the naughty

The Checkout Girl — Mon, 19 Apr 2010 16:00:48 +0000

It's so Sex And The City. It's so giggling silliness after two appletinis. It's so every crappy Katherine Heigl movie ever made. And, at this point, I'm sure men are confused. Is it a myth? Does it exist? Meanwhile, every woman knows it's absolutely real. No, friends, I'm not talking about the g-spot. I'm talking about The List.

Whether we crush like an awkward high school wallflower or would hump the crap out of, given the chance, all ladies have a mental list of celebs that give them a naughty feeling in their no-nos. Sometimes The List is in the vault, and you've got to ply us with fried apps and brightly colored drinks at TGIFriday's to get a peek at it, and sometimes we're an open book. If you've ever read even one single thing I've written, you probably know on which side I fall. I'm a sharer. Therefore, I present *cue trumpets*...

TCG's List of Potential Celebrity Humpbunnies

Dave Grohl
Admit it, musical talent is sexy. I don't care if it's a concert pianist, banging on and sweating over a magnificent beast of an instrument in a giant concert hall, or a YouTube video of a girl sitting alone in her room, quietly strumming an acoustic version of Nelly's "Hot In Herre" on a ukulele, musicians make me weak in the knees and hot in the pants. Ah, but Dave Grohl, he is rock and roll. Long hair? Check. Scrubby beard? Check. Gravely voice? Check. Making multiple instruments his bitch? Check. Whatever "it" is, he has it. And I want it. But it wouldn't hurt my feelings if he showered first.

Salma Hayek/Penelope Cruz
Ok, ok, so they aren't the same person, probably, and weren't even born on the same continent, I just read, but they are both wonderfully talented, lovely actresses. One of whom breastfed someone else's child in Africa, which pretty much puts her in the lead for my affections... but, Holy Liplock With Scarlett Johansson, Vicky Cristina Barcelona brings it back to almost a dead heat. Plus, they both sing. It all comes back to the music. And perky breasts.

Neil Gaiman
A sort of rock star of the literary world (thanks Wikipedia for summing it up just right); he's English, he's a bit older, he's engaged to an artist I adore (Amanda Palmer, Google and become an instant fan), but I love him. He wrote one of my favorite comic books (right?) and several of my favorite books. Ok, so I might just want him to mentor me, but I fantasize that he rubs my head while he does it, which technically puts him on the list. Oh, and +10 if he brings Tori Amos.

Clive Owen
Fact: I'm a sucker for an accent. And he's got a dreamy one. Ever seen Close My Eyes? Full frontal omigosh, right there. And the absolute edge of insanity instability that he conveys in Closer and Derailed throbs with dark danger, while his character in Children of Men is strong and protective. But the deal was sealed with the movie Sin City, another nod to my comic book nerdiness. He's a whole lot of cool from across the pond. Also, does anyone else think he might make a good Bond? Note: Please don't steal that idea unless you are willing to put me in the movie. Might I suggest a villain by the name of The Flower Girl? Perhaps with sleep poppies like in the Wizard of Oz? Just a thought.

Carla Bruni-Sarkozy
Heiress, model, actress, pop star, First Lady. Infamous for being quite, ahem, "generous" with her love (while in a relationship with a famous French publisher, she had a child by his son...who had a wife), she also married the President of France after having dated him for 3 months. Only about as scandalous as Barack Obama marrying Paris Hilton, is all. Why crush her, then? My guess is that she's got a freak flag less like the tiny ones you see at the cemetery on Veteran's Day and more like the one's you see illuminated by flood lights at a truck stop. You know, the kind you can see from space. Oui.

Sarah Palin
Admit it, you were slightly attracted to Tina Fey's Palin. We all were. And as seemingly delusional as the former Governor of Alaska may be, there's something to be said for the crazy bitch. Otherwise, why would all of your guy friends marry them? She's full of silly convictions and moose meat but that naughty librarian look and sassy wink spin my propeller and I can't help giggling when I think about how she might sound when she gets happy. Really, really happy, if you know what I mean. You betcha.

Look, our lists don't mean we don't love you madly. And, no, we don't want to hear about YOUR list (trust me, it will only cause trouble to know who else you are attracted to because our nail girl resembles Drew Barrymore and your coworker looks an awful lot like Olivia Munn). Just let us have our 'tinis and giggle like schoolgirls. And maybe even fuel a fantasy or two for you. Oh, and if we call out Johnny Depp's name in the heat of the moment, just go with it.

The Checkout Girl is a writer/retail superhero, originally from San Diego, CA, but currently rockin' and rollin' and whatnot in Richmond, VA. She attended Stephens College in Columbia, MO, where she excelled at keg stands and the rhythm method but realized too late that she couldn't major in either. She spends her free time reading, knitting, watching crappy tv, googling celebrity breasts, and monitoring the zeitgeist. She chronicles her work escapades at thecheckoutgirl.net and her parenting adventures at fuckyeahmotherhood.com.