100 bottles of days on the wall, 100 bottles of daayyys...

Hi, fellow triple digiters!

Welcome to the 101st day of the Obama Administration, also known as Barack Attack, also known as the Admin O'Stration. And so forth.

100 days is upon us, people. And if you look on television, you'll find that the networks are trying to hold him "accountable." Accountable! With daughters that cute? I know, it sickens me, too.

Still, in the interest of the public, I have decided that Barack Obama, despite being the World's Most Perfect Person, is above nothing except an ab-roller.

I first thought I would try to live-blog his first hundred days. But that was a little ambitious for someone who DVRs as much as myself. So I threw together a half-assed Pros and Cons list. Enjoy!

Con-Rack Pro-bama, the first 100 days:

Pros:
-Photogenic abs
-Vegetable gardens who have substantially better PR than any Hollywood Starlet
-Hero captains as far as the eye can see
-Nicer weather
-The ability to cause more older men to faint than Zac Efron
-Town halls
-Awesome episodes of The Office, 30 Rock, and the Celebrity Apprentice
-The recruiting of Arlen Specter, which is either a coup or literally useless.

Cons:
-Deadly pandemics
-Deadly pandemics that force us to say say "swine" non-ironically
-Giving New York City no reason not to believe that they were about to be victims of a second 9/11
-Thinking Nancy Reagan is crazy but not keeping it to himself
-Meeting the Prime Minister of Canada without addressing our biggest shared problem: Celine Dion
-Eight simultaneous babies
-Allowing Parks & Recreation to premiere as is
-Commercials featuring Jamie Lee Curtis shoveling yogurt in her mouth
-"Special Olympics." Need I say more?

Toss-ups:
-The occasional doses of "Cheney Crazy"
-Google's ambiguous plans for world domination
-Megan McCain's failure to Shut the Hell Up
-Snuggies

Adding these up, multiplying by "Yes, we can!" and dividing it by the number of pseudo-counter culture Urban Outfitters T-shirts there are in the world with Obama's face on them, I declare the Obama Administration to be success!

specter plays for both teams and other ambiguously sexual comments

There has been a shakeup in Washington, folks. A major one. And as such, it is all of our prerogative to make immature jokes, such as "Arlen's a fence-sitter!" or "Looks like Specter swings both ways!" Etc, etc and so forth.

But wait! There's more! It seems to me that the GOP is as unpopular as a pig in Mexico City. That's right. The Republicans are having a worse string of bad luck than a potential Madonna adoptee.

What's that you say, Eva? That the GOP needs more damage control than a Special Olympics joke? That they're a worse idea than a Friends spin-off? That they're as trapped as Katie Holmes on a Florida compound?

Yes, That is what I'm saying. And you know why that is. It's because they're as intolerant as a California Beauty Queen. That's right -- I'm saying that they're as cursed as the cast of Seinfeld at an Egyptian Tomb.

And they suck like Paula Abdul.

(Cross-posted to Celebs.com)

Gossip Girl live blog

I love Gossip Girl's New York City. Yes, it's unrealistic. (Dan Humphrey is not poor, people. His Dad owns a freaking Williamsburg gallery.) But it's not the kind of unrealistic that makes you yell, "How can she afford that? She has a sex column in a D-list newspaper!" at the television.

If you think about it, New York could be home to teenagers who are smoking hot, never get carded, and have a creepily coquettish blog-stalker. Where else are they going to live? Portland?

I like Gossip Girl because they don't try to pretend that anyone has true financial concerns or non-white acquaintences. Other series try to do this. Did you ever notice how sometimes the writers of Friends felt the need to explain why they always, always got the couch at Central Perk? Gossip Girl, on the other hand, says, "We get the couch because we fucking do, okay?" And if you don't like that, you can change the channel to Heroes and tell them Gossip Girl sent you.

Anyway, here is a live-blog of last night's episode. Because I like live-blogging and I'm also lazy.

Gossip Girl Live Blog

0:01 Serena and Blaire are eating grapes. Blair is asking Serena, "Where does your boyfriend Gabriel mysteriously disappear to?" Serena calls Blair paranoid, but I'm thinking this might turn out to be important.

1:03: Basketball guy bonding moments *really* don't work on Gossip Girl. Can someone explain to me why Chuck is wearing a crushed velvet sports suit?

4:39: A joke about a '99 Brunello. Zing!

5:31: Serena's boyfriend is handsome and mysteriously entrepreneurial, as per usual.

7:44: I love how well Chuck knows Blair: "New beret -- who are we spying on tonight?"

7:53: Naturally, Blair doesn't have to spy too long. Gabriel incriminates himself immediately outside Serena's apartment about 30 seconds later.

11:21: "Sometimes, when a queen discovers her best maiden is with a dragon in disguise, she has to pull up the drawbridge and trap him. Metaphorically, of course!" Something tells me we're going to hear an extended metaphor involving two princes in the very near future.

13:56: KISS has sold out to Dr. Pepper. Not as bad as Smashing Pumpkins hocking cell phones, but still.

14:11: Mystery solved! The reason nobody on Gossip Girl ever makes fun of Old Navy is because they're a sponsor.

16:31: The actor playing Gabriel is expressing emotion via wearing a constant expression of "almost cry." He must be taking lessons from Jenifer Aniston. Schwiiiing!

18:00: Jenny is wearing black eyeliner and keeping mostly to herself. Good girl. I hate Jenny stories.

21:33: Ouch! Blair just made a joke about how Gabriel is still "popping Poppy." I guess no TV show about inexplicable New York City wealth can avoid puns.

24:43: Blair's on a roll! "How can he be having Poppy's cake and eating yours too!"

31:28: Ed Westwick will go down in history as the only TV villain in history to look suave in a pink shirt and bow tie.

32:31: Awkward. Serena on Gabriel's humanitarian work: you could help "African teens send in tips to Gossip Girl!"

35:44: Yet she's able to make a reference to the "smoking gun?" I don't understand her select cultural education.

36:47: It's nice that Daroda was wearing her Mets hat, Blair, but WHERE'S DARODA? A Gossip Girl without Daroda is like a Grey's Anatomy without an obnoxious surgery:life analogy courtesy of Meredith.

37:31: Yet again, Gossip Girl chooses alliteration over self-respect: "Should Blair choose Netflix night with Nate or battling a beast with Bass?"

40:19: Pondering how Serena is a millionaire heiress, yet she chooses to look like a Hot Topic hooker.

42:52: I appreciate how informed you are, Dan, but jokes about a "certain imbecile former President" are just a tad dated.

46:38: Praying for this storyline: "Dan discovers that Yale doesn't allow shooting on location."

55:22: You can't end an episode without a reference to having Nancy Pelosi hair. And we're out!

(Cross posted to Celebs.com)

"Bitch Viper Pitbull:" Celebrity Apprentice Live Blog

Ah, late April. It's almost summer. And that means lying back and getting ready for a summer of base, indulgent reality shows, where cougars hunt sexy 14-year-olds, dowdy British women sing, and celebrities pretend to care about charity so they can see the inside of Donald Trump's penthouse.

That's right, bitches. It's Celebrity Apprentice time.

Run-down of remaining contestants:
Annie Duke (satanic poker player), Brande Roderick (that's pronounced "Brandee," so I don't have to tell you she's a former Playboy Bunny), Clint Black (dogmatic country star), Jesse James (dirt-biker-cum-Sandra-Bullock-spouse), Joan Rivers (iconic comedian), Melissa Rivers (Joan Rivers' annoying, perpetually 10-year-old daughter). And there you have it.

Let me begin my live-blog of last night's Celebrity Apprentice by saying I am extremely protective of Joan Rivers. I love her. She is the 76-year-old daughter I never had. So when she goes ape-shit crazy on Annie Duke and Brande Roderick it just makes me like them less. My theory is, if Joan Rivers hates you, you're an asshole.

And last night's episode was basically the best thing ever. It was a cross between Inauguration, a Jonas Brothers concert, and Y2K. It was that epic.

But enough with the impossibly high expectations I've set up. Here's what actually happened.

Live Blog of the Celebrity Apprentice

0:04: Creepily jacked-up announcer explains what happened last week. This goes on for about 11 minutes.

3:01: Jesse is moved from Athena to KOTU (Kings Of The Universe which, in a true fall from grace, consists only of Clint Black and Joan Rivers, who hate each other).

3:09: When asked if he's happy, Jesse is passive-aggressively resentful. Nice.

4:37: Donald Trump introduces this week's challenge, aka two-hour advertisement for Right Guard Deodorant.

4:45: Donald Trump introduces this week's guest judge, Jim Cramer. Jim Cramer blusters awkwardly. I think this is his way of saying "Thanks!" in English.

5:21: I gather from Donald Trump's enthusiasm that this episode was shot before Jim Cramer was hung to dry by the Daily Show.

6:02: Each team chooses a captain. Wait -- suspenseful music! This will undoubtedly be a "key plot point."

6:31: Brande: "I stepped up to be team captain because, like, I've done photo shoots and also been in them!" Her blonde hair glints in the sun.

6:54: Clint Black is captain of KOTU team. He's a complete douchebag, so this should be interesting.

9:25: Brande and Annie freeze Melissa out. Music thumps ominously. Lots of base. This is bad.

11:34: Brande and Annie spend 3 hours making zero eye contact with Melissa.

13:42: Lots of shots where Annie looks militant and physically threatening.

15:19: Right Guard representative earnestly shares his excitement about its "stripe" technology.

16:34: Summary of next 40 minutes: Melissa Rivers talks to the camera man about how Brande and Annie are conspiring against her. Not really sure how she manages to do this more often. Maybe she pretends she's going out for a cigarette?

18:32: Poor Melissa. So scarred. Someone definitely threw raw, rotten meat at her sometime in high school.

23:58: KOTU discusses ideas for a basketball star photoshoot. Joan: "Isn't he white? We should get him surrounded by a bunch of huge black men!" Jesse James and Clint Black bond temporarily over mutual extreme discomfort.

31:22: Joan makes wisecracks about what a bad athlete she is. This beats last week's re: her bad cooking ("I'm such a bad cook that Melissa's first words were 'room service!'")

34:47: Jesse Jackson gets passive-aggressive and withdrawn.

38:41: Melissa bitches again to her new friend, the sympathetic camera man, who clearly has decided to go with a 'humiliated wallflower' storyline.

41:36: Clint Black takes numerous photos of himself dribbling a basketball, because it's crucial that they have a "stand-in" for David Lee.

43:24: Uh oh -- too many clips of Melissa showing confidence: "I don't think anyone could throw ME under a bus!" Damn you, Melissa -- don't you know that if you say it, it doesn't come true?!

54:17: Jesse gets angry the only way he knows how:

Clint: What do you think, Jesse?
Jesse: Uh, it's okay.
Jesse (immediately afterward, with camera man): Clint sucks.

55:28: Jesse regresses into angry little boy coloring in the corner.

57:51: Joan Rivers: "Clint is a one man band. He would give himself a hickey."

59:44: Annie slowly morphs into a pure evil, manipulative, jagged-toothed backstabber.

1:02:45: Annie comes in and says "hi" to the other team. Joan: "She is so duplicitous. I can't wait for her to get her first facelift. She'll need two doctors."

1:05:23: I love how Jesse James decides to go bat-shit crazy and whale on Clint Black an hour before their project is due.

1:11:06: Jim Cramer stops by and Annie Duke heaps praise on herself for 55 minutes.

1:12:53: Wow. Annie Duke is so amusingly crazy.

1:17:15: The teams do their presentations and the Right Guard representatives stare longingly at Brande Roderick.

1:19:11: This is the part where everyone says "Right Guard" alot.

1:23:38: Board room time! Jesse James says he didn't think his team "was much of a team." Apparently, that's the Celebrity Apprentice equivalent to killing off a main character on any other series. Lots of cymbals crashing. A heart slowly beats in the background, louder and louder.

1:30:42: Annie Duke waits for the right moment to impress everyone with the fact that she knows David Lee personally.

1:25:20: Jim Cramer wiggles his eyebrows dramatically, forgetting the camera will cut to him for only about 22 total seconds.

1:27:42: Joan Rivers, I love you so much for being a good person.

1:30:42: Annie Duke waits for the right moment to impress everyone with the fact that she knows David Lee personally.

1:32:59: In a more light-hearted tangent, people start making fun of Clint Black for always wearing a hat.

1:33:46: The camera man has also turned on Melissa! She volunteers that Clint Black's hat is "iconic" and a three-second awkward beat follows. Wow. Maybe she shouldn't have slept with him in exchange for friendship.

1:34:24: Damn you, Donald Trump, for being so likable! Why are you so convincingly humble? Ugh. I hate myself.

1:35:57: Now's Annie's chance!

Annie: (smiling) I actually know David Lee personally!
Joan: (rolls eyes) That's fabulous, Annie. You must have SOME Christmas card list.
(Annie smiles and her eyes slowly glow red a la Voldemort.)

1:36:41: This is the part where Annie makes a bunch of harmless, neutral comments and Joan Rivers accuses her of "playing everyone like a deck of cards."

1:37:23: Poor Brande. So blonde. So dumb. So played.

1:38:42: The producers meet behind the scenes and decide it would be better TV if Team Athena loses, so Melissa Rivers and Annie Duke can start hair-flicking each other.

1:46:22: Donald Trump asks Brande if she thinks being so beautiful makes her more dumb. Joan: "Each breast can count to 10!"

1:48:40: Uh oh -- looks like Brande's on the chopping block! Brande takes the path of true desperation, i.e. complimenting Ivanka's looks.

1:52:34: Ivanka suddenly jumps in and starts insulting Annie Duke because she inexplicably hates her.

1:54:36: Wow, Melissa is just so uncontrollably annoying. Who says, "May I ask as to why?"

1:55:52: Melissa is fired! RIVERS MELTDOWN!

1:57:24: Melissa: "i want my $%$@% now. I want my purse. I want everything. !$^&$. %^#@ everyone."

1:58:08: Mama Rivers lets forth a stream of abuse. Highlights:
"(to Annie Duke and Brande) "YOU are a Nazi and YOU are a follower."
"You're a poker player. A *poker* player. That's beyond white trash!"

Wow. That's a little harsh. But you're Joan Rivers, so it's okay with me.

can't get no coastal satisfaction

Today, there was a front page article in the New York Times which said that Americans are no longer moving around the country. Untrue, my friends -- because they forgot a critical population: privileged, directionless college grads who coast-hop because they have nothing better to do.

The twelve-month mark is when Eva starts to get restless. Sure, I rationalize it with grandiose plans that can only be carried out 3000 miles away from my current city. Not really sure what that is. I'm just addicted to traumatic summer re-locations. The sweat in my hair...the feel of the permanent marker in my hand as I frantically scribble over every Starbucks logo on my moving boxes...

And things are changing. As I contemplate flocking back to New York, all the graduates who "did" New York immediately after graduation are moving on. Well, choosing some random graduate school to go to. They have to do something with their GRE scores, right?

But yeah, some of the "first wave" is leaving. Among their ambitious plans are becoming a doctor, going to Yale Law School, and fashioning a wooden ice cream stick that doesn't give you splinters. Okay, so no one is doing the last one -- but they should.

I actually don't know yet where I'm going to be next year. I'd like to think it's New York, because it's the only city in which I know how to live a sub-par existence. All I'm aiming for is subway access and a nearby pretentious wifi hub where I can sip something and look cool.

Anyway, people. This is a 'place-holder' entry because I have been completely swept away by some comedy projects I'm working on. But I promise to get back into the swing of things. Because the traveling productions of "Cats" is in Seattle and as I live and breathe, I will be addressing this.

Obamalicious, def. Obamalicious def...

Puppies, Easter egg hunts, stopping a pirate hostage with his bare hands....what can't this president do?

Happy Monday, folks. Like me, you probably woke up to a solved international crisis, brushed your teeth while the First Family stood respectfully in honor of Fergie, and ate your breakfast to Obama solemnly commending hero pirate fighters. In short, he is the best quick changer since Jem and Jerrica.


Meanwhile, as the DOW completed one of its largest point gains in history, the White House released photos of the President running along side an adorably cute puppy.

Then the entire Obama family spontaneously broke out in a pitch-perfect rendition of Hannsler's Cori di Didone.

The dog looks like it will be a great addition to the White House -- I just hope it paid its back taxes!

Oh, come on. I guarantee you this joke will be in the late night circuit. You heard it here first, folks.

BOWA (Bitch on Wheels Anonymous)

Some people worry about poverty. Some people worry about famine. And some of the more ambitious among us even managed some worry over that whole Somali Pirates Kidnap Thing that I totally missed because I had a friend visiting me.

I make no apologies. We all know that when a friend is staying with you, you have to frantically re-shelve your books to emphasize the most impressive ones (classics, books of theory, and historical biographies go in the front. Prep, Cathy comics and anything by JK Rowling go in the back. Jane Austen is a wild card).

Then you have to put all your dictionaries and guides to Modern English Usage within arm's length of your desk and erase www.Thesaurus.com from your web history. Standard procedure, folks.

To return to the topic at hand, I applaud people who are filled with concern for Greenpeace and hungry, hungry children. But like Jamie Lee Curtis and her weird yogurt obsession, I have my own pet cause. And that is the dangers of Post-Ironic Deconstruction.

Post-Ironic Deconstruction is a natural outgrowth of what the proles call 'So Bad It's Good.' This designation can be applied to Applebees, Lifetime movies, or any situation involving celebrities reading from a teleprompter.

If you're still confused, just watch the E! Network's countdown of the 50 Cutest Child Stars. It was co-hosted by the Full House's DJ Tanner, who now can apparently only get gigs making self-deprecating jokes about what a has-been she is. ("I used to change the Olsen Twins' diapers, and now they won't return my calls, ha ha ha!") I think the other girl used to play Rudy on the Cosby Show or something. It was really kind of sad.

We all have a little So Bad It's Good inside of us. It's that part of you that hates Julia Stiles with every fiber of her being but has seen all her movies anyway.

Sounds harmless, right? Wrong. Not if being self-righteously judgmental is your crack.

There's an insaitable bitch inside me. One who would rather comment than create, who would rather trash-talk Jimmy Fallon than win an Emmy. She has the soul of a "Worst Dressed" list and the bitterness of a failed poet who later becomes a failed adjunct English lecturer. And I am afraid she won't set me free until I become the D-list celebrity commentator from Hell. That's right -- until I become Chelsea Lately (involuntary shudder).

My journey started when I was a freshman in college and I got a job as a film critic for the college newspaper. Instead of taking this opportunity to expand my cultural horizons and promote sensitive, well-crafted Sundance films, I rolled up my sleeve, took out a needle, and OD'd on all bottom-sucking one-star bombs I could find.

That semester was a blur of popcorn and soulless Delaware County multiplexes. Week after week, I churned out film reviews, each of which had some lovingly-crafted merciless title: "Not a handsome 'Prince!'" "'Perfect Score' Not a 1600!" "'50 First Dates Not Good Enough for One!'"

I remember little of those whirlwind days, but here are some writings I've managed to cobble together from the archives of the Phoenix:

"the clumsy vacillation between drama and the very basest of humor weakens this ambitious new film." (50 First Dates)

"The Prince and Me may be trying to put on screen a young girl’s greatest fantasy, but in doing so, it creates a new one that involves not a prince but a movie ticket refund." (The Prince and Me)

"The contrived storyline, flat dialogue and mediocre on-screen chemistry between the two starring actors makes this film one fairy tale you wish had never come true." (The Prince and Me)

"Geeks who like this movie should get their friends to watch it, too. It will keep the idea flickering in the backs of their minds that, during your many hours in front of the computer, you may actually be foiling terrorist plots." (The Net)

"What confuses me most is why some of today’s most respected artists agreed to be a part of an ill-disguised fluff movie claiming to debunk the artistic cannon." (Mona Lisa Smile)

"Why does Julia Stiles think that speaking with a stiff and slightly British accent is tantamount to the way people spoke in the 1950s?" (Mona Lisa Smile)

"If the viewer’s hopes aren’t dashed to pieces within the first five seconds by the “MTV Productions” logo, they probably won’t endure the movie’s superficial tackling of America’s college admissions system." (Perfect Score)

And then this:

"The movie’s tone is disturbingly uneven regarding the subject of brain damage." (50 First Dates)

Can someone explain to me why the hell I felt the need to hold MTV or Adam Sandler to any kind of standard?

These were mad writings of a girl determined and willing to loath everything she saw. And she still rears her ugly head during adaptations of He's Just Not that Into You or occasional episode of Gossip Girl.

I guess you can't help being a bitch if it's in the cards, but it is a lonely existence. I just try to turn that smirk and knowing eye-roll into a compelling standup or sketch comedy. And when Gossip Girl attempts to subtly allude to Edith Wharton's Age of Innocence and butchers it, I just go work out and remind myself that Josh Schwartz doesn't know what the hell he's doing.

But sometimes, on those darker days, I do have to comfort myself, face my biggest fears and say, "There, there. Julia Stiles can never hurt you again."