Over the weekend I had a lengthy discush with a good friend about giving it up too early. Well past virgin territory, arguments for waiting have nothing to do with Jesus or wedding nights. In no particular order, a few good to reasons slow down…
1. Jumping into the kip on the first night has become a tired cliché. It’s neither sexy nor rebellious. It is expected and ordinary. Nobody’s talking purity rings here, but honestly, some of ya’ll don’t even get a first and last name before getting naked.
2. After a certain age, one realizes authentic chemistry is exceedingly rare. If another person gives you butterflies, delight in the magic and draw out the phenomenon for as long as possible. Fuck too soon and bang the butterflies to death.
3. Most people are selfish and dirty. In a one night stand situation, most people won’t confess to the herp, hep, HIV, or clap. A greater majority don’t even know they are spreading warts all around town.
4. Reasonable delay allows anticipation and tension to build. Courtship creates mystery and interest. Easy = Boring.
5. Holding out for a minute also allows you to weed out the following: 1) stage 5 clingers, 2) assholes, and 3) beer-goggle regrets.
Skills for life: protect your vagina and your wang. XO,DC
The first of several 40th birthday parties kicked off at a suite at the Gansevoort where Bethenny and her girls pre-gamed with Skinnygirl and mini-sliders. Later, Bethenny rallied the group for a schlong hunt at Plunge.
Why does Bethenny think she has game? She acted like a crazed Ramona lusting over the general manager conveniently named Jason. At 40 not 30, Bethenny’s a little more resistible than she thinks. Seriously, slow your roll and stop embarrassing yourself.
After a few drinks, each sloppster took a turn stomping out her dignity in the center of the dance circle. Julie offered the most interesting dance craze – the metro card – a reenactment of that graceful moment when the metro card fails and you whiplash against the immobile turnstile. Bethenny acted like Julie was nutz. Apparently it has been awhile since bougie Bethenny has taken the train, because that shit was brilliant. Anyone who takes public transportation would know that dance of shame anywhere.
The next day, Bethenny got the call about Skating With the Stars and it was immediately obvious that she was going to say “yes,” even though she pretended she was going to discuss it with the family. Back at casa Hoppy, Jason braced himself for the latest news.
Jason didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the idea and immediately started chipping away at her excitement with loaded questions. Jealous much? Then he asked if it would be better for her to do Dancing With the Stars. Her response was fucking priceless, and proves how big her head has become.
Her implication – that she would turn down the highly rated Dancing With the Stars in favor of Skating With the Stars – could not be more patently absurd. Bitch please. No one asked you to be on Dancing With the Stars. Don’t fucking act like you would have turned down Dancing with the God Damn Stars because no one on this planet believes your fame-seeking ass would ever do any such thing.
Julie joined the meeting and even though she and Jason had concerns about time and scheduling, there was no talking Bethenny out of her skates. She knew she was accepting the offer the minute they called. Make no mistake: Bethenny furthers her fame first.
Even though no one had even mentioned Bethenny’s birthday, she moaned that everyone kept “harping on her 40th birthday,” so she simply must have a lavish party to satisfy the masses or some such self-important bullshit. She met up with her wedding planner Shawn for lunch and he offered to plan the party for her as a 
Later Jason and Bethenny took Bryn on an afternoon stroll. Jason nit-picked the proposed plans. The two began to bicker about the number of guests, the timing of food and drink, and the appropriate night for the party.
With a proposed guest list of 35-45, Bethenny didn’t want to exclude her friends for Jason’s buddies. In another dick move, Jason played the “you’re married now, Bethenny” card. In this instance, Bethenny’s right on. It is her birthday, and the guest list should be comprised of her friends. Jason manipulated her by calling her selfish, and got his way to invite ten friends to her party. When Jason turns forty he can invite all his friends. Not all couples must share friends. Furthermore, Jason’s friends don’t actually give a fuck about celebrating Bethenny’s birthday, so he should stop fronting like they do.
From there things got progressively uglier, and a sour cloud hovered over the rest of the walk, the talk, and the party. Bethenny began to regret agreeing to the bash. Considering the amount of celebrations Bethenny’s had for Bethenny this year – engagement, showers, a televised wedding – a low key fortieth might have been a better way to go.
Bethenny met her skating partner Ethan Burgess at the rink, but the chemistry wasn’t exactly gelling. Awkward chatter peppered practice and culminated with Bethenny declaring that she’d seen Ethan fall in a competition on youtube. Not knowing when to STFU, Bethenny continued to prattle and opined his fall was due to the rocky relationship with his girlfriend/skate partner. Nice first impression.
Back in bed, Bethenny and Jason continued to write “birthday party disaster” all over the walls. Each time the topic came up, the two clashed.
Since Bethenny’s latest book is about conquering negative thoughts, take note of Bethenny’s own self-defeating behavior. She says things like “my whole life has been like that.” Boo Fucking Hoo.
Evelyn revealed a long-kept secret on last week’s Basketball Wives finale. Perhaps angling for some extra camera time this season, Evelyn confessed to smashing Tami’s husband, Kenny Anderson, back in the day. Tami took it as well as you might imagine. 
Several years after Lozada and Anderson’s affair, the tables have turned. Now Evelyn’s engaged to marry rumored pussy-hound Chad Ochocinco.
The Roman Candle proved payback’s a bitch when she dropped this delish doozy on part one of the reunion…
And then Evelyn’s face looked like this. 
And then Royce broke out dancing. 
In the immortal words of Mr. Ochocinco himself,
Child Please, This is only the beginning. 
Has Dior found its replacement whore? 
Word is Tisci’s the new HBIC.
Even us schadenfreuders hoped Oprah’s OWN might serve up a programming highlight or two, but we’ve generously given Ms. Winfrey more than a month to win us over, and she’s already squandered most of our patience and good will. If Oprah’s foray into OWN proves nothing else, it illustrates that there is a huge difference between running a successful talk show and overseeing an entire network.
The first of many problems with OWN is lack of original programming. In the age of streaming, old movies ain’t gonna cut it, and reruns of Dr. Phil definitely ain’t gonna cut it. She’d be better off showing reruns of her own show if the network needs filler. Oprah’s so technologically out of touch she quaintly believes that we’re all going to sit down and watch an edited version of Postcards From the Edge during primetime? Up against Jersey Shore, is she bananas?
Let’s discuss the original programming that has aired so far. Basically, it generates hostility. The Gayle King Show is some seriously amateur shit. King’s sloppiness only serves to highlight the rather obvious coattail-riding nepotism which landed her the position in the first place. Next, tune into Season 25: Oprah Behind the Scenes and watch the production team shield Oprah from any backstage complication while simultaneously anticipating and meeting her every high-maintenance whim. Even if you liked Oprah before, you won’t after you watch this. Her staff gives new meaning to the term sycophant.
OWN’s self-proclaimed mission is to “entertain, inform and inspire people to live their best lives,” but is this really the best Oprah can do?
Oprah has approximately six months or less to turn things around at OWN before becoming a cautionary tale. Some have already dubbed the venture a failure, and the ratings continue to drop, but don’t count Ms. Winfrey out just yet.
Oprah, first things first, you need some appointment television, and no, your reality show definitely doesn’t count. OWN needs an unmissable water cooler show. Try bankrolling forward-thinking, risky artistic projects that more conservative networks reject – find OWN’s version of Mad Men, Sex and the City, or Sons of Anarchy.
Despite rumors of upcoming Tatum O’Neal and Shania Twain reality shows, Oprah has yet to bring an interesting celeb-reality entry into the programming mix. If she knew anything, she’d give Nicki Minaj her own show.
OWN’s definitely squandered an opportunity on cornering the healthy lifestyle angle. How about a vegetarian cooking show? We all know you have Kathy Freston on speed dial. What about giving Michael Pollan a camera and letting him explore where our food comes from?
Most importantly, where the fuck is the fashion, beauty, and interior design?
Come on Oprah, we all expect more of you. Time is running out for you to salvage this disaster. Start by cutting Gayle a severance package.
“Girls say bad things about other girls. That’s what we do.” 
“The relationship between Marc Jacobs and I ended very abruptly. The one rule he told me not to break was to bring friends back to his home, which ultimately I did after a few cocktails, and all my stuff was gathered in a matter of five minutes, and I was out on the street with two trash bags and my brand new Louis Vuitton duffle bag.” -Austin Armacost, The A-List: New York
E! recently made a genius programming decision by upgrading Fashion Police to a weekly series. Joan Rivers has never been sharper as the Grand Dame presiding over a panel which includes Kelly Osbourne, Giuliana Rancic, and George Kotsiopoulos.
Speaking of Giuliana, we don’t do baby here at Demeter Clarc, but didja all happen to catch Giuliana and Bill on Friday’s View pimping their new book on their miscarriage press tour? We all sympathize with the couple for sure, but my inner cynic recoils at the notion of leveraging this kind of loss to bolster book sales and promote the upcoming season of a reality show.
While Giuliana has a comforting chipmunky quality, sort of a Katie Couric for Carrie Bradshaw disciples, a ravenous, fame-seeking beast pulses beneath her perky veneer. Even though the couple’s intentions to share their struggles may come from a pure place, the decision to craft their image around reproductive challenges is a risky strategy indeed. What if they have five miscarriages before they conceive? What if they never conceive? Is the public now privy to every detail since they have offered up the most private part of themselves in exchange for fame?
Speaking of late-thirties baby news, OK! reports Rachel Zoe has finally dulled the ache in Rodger’s pussy by incubating their very own Scarlet Begonia this awards season. Mazel Rach and Rodg!
If you like a good unauthorized biography, pick up Kitty Kelley’s OPRAH, an impeccably researched behemoth that will likely change your perspective on Ms. Winfrey. For instance, did you know….
Oprah’s “dad” Vernon Winfrey does not enjoy Oprah’s BFF Gayle King. I believe his words were “that dirt hog Gayle.”
Vernon had a sign in his grocery store that read: “Attention Teenagers: If you are tired of being hassled by unreasonable parents, now is the time for action. Leave home and pay your own way while you still know everything.”
Oprah can cry on cue, and it was reported that she said every tear is worth half a ratings point.
Word on the street is that Oprah gave Gayle $1,250,000 (a million bucks plus taxes), so they both could be millionaires for Christmas. Other gifts Oprah has allegedly given Gayle: a $7.5 million Manhattan apartment, $3.6 million house in Greenwich, the head bitch in charge position at O Magazine, and private school for Gayle’s kids.
My most favorite tidbit of all? If her royal highness Oprah Winfrey is asleep on either leg of a flight in her private jet, her pilots are under strict orders not to wake her until she’s slept a minimum of eight hours. Seriously, the pilots, crew, and her staff must wait until she wakes up or has slumbered a full eight hours. Bitch needs her beauty rest; it is exhausting running the world.