A Giant week

This past week was a banner one for me as a lifelong lover of Big Blue.

Some of you already know that I am a huge Giants fan. The oftentimes frustrating, sometimes exhilarating preoccupation was instilled in me from an early age by my father. My dad grew up going to the games in the Polo Grounds in Northern Manhattan with his buddies. I grew up going to the Meadowlands with him.

When the Meadowlands was built my Dad and a group of his friends became season ticket holders. They secured a block in section 112 – row 22. Pretty good seats, I must say. Sometimes we’d pick up a pair of seats from one of the group that couldn’t make a particular game and our whole family would go. We’d drive through the city on the way home and eat dinner at Gallagher’s Steak House. A truly perfect Sunday. But most of the time we had just two tickets. Absolutely no gender discrimination in our household, my brother and I alternated home games.

A stellar example of my father’s even-handedness on this particular matter was the methodology used to determine Traynor attendance of the 1986 Playoffs. It had been an amazing year for the Giants. We only had to win one game against San Fransisco to get to the National League Championship game. My brother and I were sat down for a conference in the living room and my father explained, “We only have two tickets to the 49ers game. I can bring one of you. Whoever goes is guaranteed to see a playoff game. If we win that game I will take the other of you to the next game. But there is no guarantee that will happen. You two think about it for a minute and tell me what you want to do.”

I didn’t have to think. There was no question in my mind the Giants were going all the way. I wanted to be at that Championship Game. Inconveniently, Brendan felt exactly the same way.

“Ok, who wants to go to the San Fran game?”

Silence.

“No one?”

Silence.

“You both understand that passing this game up means you may not get to go to one at all?” We did. “Ok. We flip a coin.”

My brother was ok with this plan until I emerged victorious two minutes later. Cries of foul play flew through the air. My brother pointed out that as a member of our high school's football team, he should be given weighted advantage. I, afterall, had never even played a game in my life and never would. I was just a girl. This was not right.

I'm sure my father agreed with Brendan on many levels, but God love him, fair was fair and I went to that eventual Championship game. The Giants shut out the Redskins 17 - 0, and to this day, that game was the most thrilling event I have ever attended in my life (ok, maybe a close second to my wedding). It should be noted for context, I went to the Super Bowl in 1998 down in Miami. No where near as exciting. There were no fans in the stands. Just corporate sponsors. Not so back at that Redskins game where the entire stadium was packed with season ticket holders. The wave went around the stadium continuously for the entire three hours. Strangers high-fived. Face painters cried. No one cared that their feet were frostbitten and they would have to sit in traffic for three hours to get out of the parking lot. (By the way, this amazing team went on to beat the Broncos 39-20 a couple of weeks later in Super Bowl XXI).

My brother and I are very close. But to this day, when that game gets brought up, Brendan repeats his true belief, "That wasn't right."

Fast forward to the 2007 season. I admit, I started out with a faint heart. We had lost Tikki, and there was no reason to believe our shortcomings from last year would not continue to haunt us: an inconsistent quarterback not living up to his last name, a Coach known for harsh discipline overseeing one of the most penalized teams in the league and a cast of larger than life personalities who seem to air their disagreements in the media instead of the locker room.

I am now filled with remorse for my lack of faith. I know it's dangerous to get optimistic - this is just about the point in the season when we imploded last year. But I'm feeling good. We've won six in a row and we're just back from London where we were treated like rock stars. We're headed into a bye week after which we play Dallas, the only team in front of us in the NFC. A sign of changing times, Jeremy Shockey, freshly shorn, is even starting to look like a grown up.

For me personally, this past week in particular was indeed a Giant week in every sense of the word. I went to last week's game against San Fran and got on the jumbotron. First time ever and so exciting! I was on the big screen coming back from the commercial break with about 7:23 left in the third quarter. If you watched the game on TV, I was the one in the white hooded sweater screaming, "Go Giants!"

Then last Tuesday I had one of the coolest experiences I've had in a long time (and remember, I was hooked up to a morphine drip for two days this past March). I participated in a corporate boondoggle in which I got to go hang out with a small group of fellow corporate geeks at the Meadowlands and play a game of touch football (I observed) and eat dinner with a bunch of former Giants players. Old school guys - some of whom were playing during that famous 86 season. How cool is that!? These guys were so much fun. They were hilariously funny and easy going and having free reign at Giants Stadium was a thrill. Here are some pictures.

Touchdown!

Doesn't seem like it would be so hard to get the ball through here...

On the 50

Dee Hardison warming up for the game.

Just hangin on the side lines with my buddies Scott Brunner, Howard Cross and Dee Hardison.

On the jumbotron - second time in less than a week!

I had the most hilarious conversation with Chris Calloway who casually dropped some tid bit about something he had seen on The View that day. I looked at him and said, "You watch The View?" He kind of shrugged his shoulders and said yes he did. I asked him what he thought of the Rosie controversy. Well, he went on a 10 minute critical overview of hosts and which ones were his favorites. He was going back to Star Jones days. This guy is a fan. Whoopie is ok by him, by the way. And in case anyone was wondering, Chris reports Elizabeth has left to go have her baby in Arizona.

Howard Cross was by far the biggest character there. Totally hilarious. This is the face he made at me after another corporate geek had just told him he had so much fun playing in the game with him and how it was the most exercise he had gotten in years because he's under doctor's orders not to exercise. Cross told him to stop talking. (That's Eric Dorsey in the background)

Me and Scott Brunner, Howard Cross and Stephen Baker

Me and Scott Brunner, Dee Hardison and Karl Nelson.

And then there were four...

I have been finding this season of The Bachelor a little boring. Maybe it's because I was making it through the last season on narcotics. But this week the introduction lets me know that we will be witnessing "The most dramatic exit in Bachelor history." Ok. They've got my attention.

Terry tries to act like he's working, but looks up from his laptop as our host Chris explains whoever makes it past tonight gets the hometown dates and says, "This guy is useless. And what's up with that shirt? That is awful." (As much as I love our host, the shirt is awful.)

Right off the bat, DeAnna claims that she's onto Bettina's game. That wiley Bettina is trying to be the mysterious girl, says DeAnna. The girl you can't figure out what she's got going on. Yes, she's trying to make Brad fall in love with her in six weeks or less. Very hidden agenda. Covert, even.

Bettina pipes in and implies she's been playing hard to get up until now. It's just the way she's been brought up. Hmm. Sending in an application and auditioning to appear on national televition and compete to marry a man you have yet to meet. Very hard to get.

On to the Group Date. A pool party at Brad's. He drawls out that he just wants to get to know these ladies in a more comfortable situation. More comfortable. Like in bikinis on a slip 'n slide. Mmmm... comfy.

Hillary's not-made-for-TV bleeper fantasy fest was hilarious. Made even funnier because I know it will be soon followed by "The most shocking exit in Bachelor history." Then I see a glimpse into the catalyst. Right after Hillary gives Brad the "you remind me of my dad and they say girls marry their dads," speech (a very disturbing scene to cut to after Hillary's let me tell you what I want Brad to do to me fantasy) Brad tells her he thinks they may be too good of friends. The F word. Right to her face. I'm wincing, but God bless her, this blows right past Hillary who claims to be thrilled about their connection. Glancing up from the keyboard, Terry notes, "She's not reading the right mail, is she?"

Hillary doesn't get it when Brad tells her they are "too good of friends," but the facade starts to break down when she realizes he's going off to kiss Jenni in a hammock. "Why is that not me!?"

On to Sheena's one on one date. What was with the balloons? That did not seem romantic to me. It looked like a low budget bar mitzvah. Redeeming moment: strapping on the Chopard.

Sheena's kind of goofy, and it's endearing (how about that fall down the stairs? Haven't we all been there?). But the sweetness crosses the line to awkward with the rose ceremony poem delivery. She sets the moles on Brad's arm and patch of hair on his ear to iambic pentameter. What the hell? She's trying to tell him that she likes him and that's what she says? Why didn't she say she noticed how small his hands and feet are for God's sake. Brad is speechless and asks if he can keep the poem. Terry's comment from the peanut gallery, "So I can show it to all my friends next month after I boot you off the show."

Brad tells Bettina their date was perfect. Bettina agrees. Of course, not as perfect as walking away with Chopard diamond earrings, but pretty good.

Then more signs of the trainwreck that's a comin' with some commentary from Brad, "I want to talk to Hillary so badly because at the pool party she asked me point blank what my feelings for her were, and I had to be honest - that this girl is just a friend. That's what I want her to know tonight. But how can I relay that to someone who won't listen to a word I'm saying?"

Brad gives her the speech, "Let me be a straight shooter. We're good friends. I don't get nervous around you because I think of you as a friend. I'm telling you this because I am trying to be a good friend. Are you ok? I'm only asking as a friend."

God bless her, she doesn't miss a beat and launches into her response, "I feel the same way. We're best friends. We could be lovers. And husband and wife. I'm so happy when I'm around you, I just want to thank you for that." Brad blinks twice as his life flashes before his eyes. Later Hillary lets us in on her thoughts, "Some of the girls see us as more of a best friend type of thing. You know what? I feel more than that, and I know he feels more than that too and I know with the circumstance he can't really say how he feels."

Oh my God. Somebody get her therapist on stand-by. With a syringe full of something powerful.

Suddenly it's happening. The meltdown is in full throttle. Hillary holds her head in her hands while she tries a visualization exercise and repeats over and over, "Everything happens for a reason. Everything happens for a reason." My therapist always says, "everything happens for a reason."

Brad tries to step in and calm down the scenario, "I want you to know I think you're one in a million." To which Terry responds, "Or at least one in twenty five. Of all the women I've met on this show, you're definitely one of them." [Way to go, ABC - you've converted another viewer with your slutty girls and NFL mentions.]

Hoping next week's hometown dates will bring more drama....

Wanna meet my dad?

Traveling in Style

Terry went to South Carolina to play golf this weekend. He called me from the airport Friday night to tell me Tim Gunn was at the gate. I asked the obvious questions, "What's he wearing and what does his bag look like?"

"He's got on a blue blazer and khakis and his bag looks like one you'd get at a golf tournament."

"Ok, I really don't think Tim Gunn is wearing Dockers and carrying a gym bag."

"You're right. I'll go get a better look and call you back."

"Check out the shoes, too."

A few minutes later confidence in my fashion instinct was restored when the phone rang again, "I was wrong. He's wearing a gray suit. Very well cut. The bag is Jack Spade. Shoes look like Allen Edmonds lace ups."

One of my favorite things about my husband - he is just gay enough.

If your name is not Jenni, please pack your bags...

Right off the bat, Jenni gets the one on one date and nearly dies of elation. I thought I saw her eyes roll back in her head for a minute and I truly thought she might short circuit.

Brad's dramatic entrance to pick her up in the helicopter would have been a lot more romantic and less comic had there not been all that debris swirling around like hundreds of little Tasmanian devils. The girls refused to stop flashing their best toothpaste model smiles even as they were pelted by flying objects moving with stingingly strong centrifugal force. Hard to look cute when your hair is caught up in a wind tunnel, but God bless them, they tried.

The other girls can not hide their resentment as Brad and Jenni whiz off. Hillary immediately gets her therapist on the horn and asks for refills on three of her seven prescriptions.

Jenni giggles girlishly as she flips her hair and says, "If he doesn't give me the rose I'm going to jump off this building!" As if he's not giving her the rose. Unless she tells him she has gonorrhea during dinner, I think she's safe. Even then, she might be ok - unless she says she caught it from her dad. (Ok, I know that was over the line, and my mother is appalled right now if she still reads this blog. But there is something so sickeningly pure about Jenni that brings out my dark side.)

Just when I think Brad is going to give Jenni a puppy before they pedal off on a tandem bike, ABC cuts through the sweetness with a peak at what's going on back at the house. McCarten and DeAnna are stirring the pot with some Class A, high-school style mind games. Don't you remember that girl who was the leader of the "in crowd," but really no one liked her? Think Rachel McAdams in Mean Girls. That's what's going on back at the mansion in the name of, "Let's be friends. Let's put on our pj's and bond. Let me tell you why you're stupid and ugly and SOOO not Brad-worthy. Oh, and Hillary, I forgot to tell you. Your therapist called you back five hours ago. I meant to tell you before, but I didn't think of it until just now when I saw you walking around with that steak knife."

On to the group date. Brad tries to pretend like any of the non-Jenni girls still have a chance. They all humiliate themselves to the absolute base level during the improv session and I die a little inside as I watch them grovel. Hillary's uppers kick in as she bounds around as a cheerleader and then pronounces, "I was a FREAKin' rock star today!"

Kristy has a meltdown because she sucks at improv. Brad tells her not to worry. Bettina gets the rose and Hillary pages her therapist.

Bettina envisions the future, "Brad likes me...I can really see us having this great life together." Yea. Just you and Brad. And Jenni.

DeAnna and Jade's date with Brad was HIL-A-RI-OUS. Dueling banjos. All I could think of was that character on SNL played by Kristen Wiig. The one who's always one one-upping everyone with outrageous claims. She's a recurring character and the first few times I saw it I found it annoying, but now I think it's funny (If you don't know what I mean, check this out: Penelope at an Auction)

Meanwhile, back at the house, Bettina injects some unwelcome level-headedness when she tells the others it's naive to think you can get engaged to someone after knowing them for six weeks. As a divorcee, she knows from experience. Hillary calls her a used car and laughs like a jackal.

Poor Jade gets the boot. She was no match for that DeAnna.

The mind games continue at the rose ceremony party. The girls grill Jenni about her intentions once they find out she got the first kiss. One by one, the ladies pull Brad into a corner and tell him they don't want to cry as they begin to cry. "Brad, how can you turn away from someone brave enough to express this kind of raw emotion?" Meanwhile, I don't know what happened to McCarten. All of a sudden she's wearing an elegant dress and she's unsure about whether she even wants a rose. What's going on?

No surprise, McCarten and Stephy get sent packing.

The winning parting line came from McCarten, "Brad is an amazing person that I could see being the father of my children. Or my husband." Multiple choice.

Scenes from the next gave me a peak into what I knew was coming all along. Hillary's nervous breakdown. The carefully calibrated medication balance seems like it may get off center next week. We may need another medivac. Is it so wrong that I find that so funny?

Conflict of interest

Just some forewarning (advance lame excuse?). As though I haven't been late enough with my Bachelor recaps (I was so much more prompt when blogging and brain surgery recovery were my only two jobs), I will be experiencing a scheduling difficulty tonight that will likely delay the recap yet again. My Giants are playing Monday Night Football. Sorry to say I will be watching them - not Brad Womack. If Solisa were still on I might have the priorities the other way 'round, but alas, I'd rather watch Manning, Burress, Shockey, Ward, Jacobs, Strahan, Kiwanuka and Umenyiora than Stephy, Deanna, Jenni, McCarten, Hillary, Sheena, Kristy, Bettina and Jade.

Super Twin Power

Having been primed to expect "the most shocking cocktail party ever," I was pretty excited as I settled in for this week's Bachelor.

I was instantly filled with a disoriented feeling, however, when I saw Solisa wearing a shirt. I almost didn't recognize her. But Bachelor antics quickly ensued, and I began to feel comforted by the recurring themes of shameless manipulation and stultifying displays of complete lack of self awareness.

On to the wacky circus group date. Knowing she was in a position of strength after executing a round-off-backhandspring-back tuck (which I used to always do at the beginning of every date in my younger years), Jenni asks a critical question of Brad: "Would you let me stay in Phoenix?" It's very important to her that she get to finish her season as a Phoenix Sun Dancer. Again, Brad demonstrates that unscripted goofiness that I'm really starting to love when he very logically points out, "Well, you're letting me date other people." Hard to argue. Jenni is a very agreeable girlfriend.

Vying for some attention, Stephy talks (too much) about Daddy the triathlete who has really high standards. Please, oh please, let her get a home town date so Brad the bartender has to meet that guy. She can't remember the last time she's been asked out. Oh. Poor Stephy.

Now that Michele shower-cap-highlights-on-taupe is gone, I'm obsessed with McCartens' tan lines. Can we get some bronzing powder? Some tan spray? A non-strapless dress? Is the stylist on vacation or what?

Brad likened the feeling of being at the Circus with all these fine ladies to being "that kid from Titanic." I wasn't sure if he felt like The King of The World, or if he was having premonitions of one of these ladies prying his cold dead fingers off her arm and pushing him to the cold, bottomless sea...

Hillary-I'm-on-amphetamines' peeling scream and immediate speed trip when she found out she got the one-on-one date was enough to rattle anyone to the core, forget someone with titanium in their head. I bravely pressed on.

Not to be outdone, Stephy-daddy's-girl let out a squeal when she got the date rose that prompted a comment from Terence (until that point, busily typing away on his laptop - not paying attention due to the complete lack of bikini wearing and/or NFL celebrity appearances), "She's annoying." Back to typing.

After much primping (and later evidence would suggest, the consumption of some downers to take the edge off those amphetamines) Hillary descends the stairs ready for her one on one date. Dehanna loses that sunny, good girl disposition for a moment to state the obvious, "It wasn't fun watching another girl get a million dollars worth of jewelry thrown on her." The other girls shot daggers from the couch as still-speeding-Hillary bounded out the door.

After a few champagne chasers, the downers kicked in. Hillary spiraled into an "I want to be in love with you for the rest of your living days" speech. God bless him, Brad kept interrupting her. I could see the deer in headlights look in his eyes when he said, "Are you ok?" What he meant was, "Good God, please don't say another word. I'm sure you're capable of ending my living days should I decide not to 'love' you anymore." At this point they've known each other for what - a week? I'm convinced he gave her the rose simply to stop her from crying.

Brad quickly devises a plan to bring Hillary back to manic mode (manic Hillary is more fun than depressive Hillary): ice cream. Did you catch the bartending maneuver with the sundae glass? Very Tom Cruise in Cocktail.

On to the sailing group date. I knew we'd be in for some psycho-Solisa fun. And of course, she couldn't help but get all "Christian" again. She explained the lap dance performed on the aft deck this way: "I think I have a really strong connection with Brad, and we have so much in common. So I kinda like went over and like, started like, shaking my butt really fast 'cause it's the only thing I know how to do." (I'm not kidding - she said that.) Is it coincidence that the next scene was a cannon shooting with Brad yelling, "Fire in the hole!"? That is downright pornographic. But very Christian.

On to the "Most Shocking Cocktail Party Ever." I'm giddy with anticipation. But let me just say - that twin does not look like a twin. Brothers yes. Identical twins no. They don't sound alike either.

Brad ponders, "I'm kind of curious to see who can tell the difference." Well, I'm guessing they all will. Except Solisa. She always seems to be in a position other than face to face when she's around Brad.

Chad (Chad!? Really? Brad and Chad?) wants to know, "What if someone pulls me away and tells me she loves you for the first time." "Let's face it. If she tells you that she loves me, that's a problem." He may be an uneducated bartender, but it's hard to deny that logic.

So, some figure it out, some don't. Setting this up as "The Most Shocking Cocktail Party Ever" may have oversold it.

More shocking was McCarten's dress at the rose ceremony. Chain link bling with chartreuse chiffon. It looked like a 70s prom dress updated with some 80s rapper bling but reinterpreted to be age-appropriate for a mother of the bride trying to look younger than she is.

After a boring rose ceremony, almost without warning, the best line I have EVER heard on Bachelor (granted, it's only my second season) was breathlessly uttered by a freshly ousted Solisa, "I was a little more truthful and honest about who I was. Because he did see the very special parts of me because I wear those special parts on the outside." In most states, there are laws against showing those very special parts, but indeed, Solisa wore them on the outside.

I already miss Solisa...

Real Beauty is a skull scar...

Lunchtime diversion...

My Agency did an amazing video called Evolution for Dove last year that won all kinds of industry awards, received unbelievable media attention and was passed around the web like crazy. It placed Dove firmly at the leadership front of the beauty debate in the US - an important discussion to be having in this age of obsession with "perfect" anorexic celebutantes.

The follow up, Onslaught, was just launched and has already been getting unbelievable buzz in the media. I think it's great work. Enjoy...

Chloe!...

...I need you to download the engineer plans for the duct system at the LA County jail to my PDA. Right away!

TMZ is reporting that our buddy, Jack Bauer, will likely serve 48 days in jail for his most recent DUI conviction.

I'm sorry, I love Kiefer, but there really is no excuse for anyone to drive while intoxicated, let alone someone who can so easily afford a driver.

Seems that Sutherland will be able to serve mostly during a time that 24 production is on break for the holidays.

LA County should be a breeze after that secret Chinese torture camp...

"I'm a Christian. Can't you tell by these?"

Again, I'm really late with The Bachelor write up. I'm really sorry. I do have a good excuse this time. This week I was busy battling my first post-brain-surgery head cold. Word to the wise: try not to get a head cold for at least a year following skull contact with the business end of a bone-saw. It wasn't fun. Now that the sinus drama is over, let The Bachelor drama ensue...

First let me comment on the brilliant strategy ABC seems to be employing to increase viewership. They are clearly endeavoring to capture the males in viewing households by recruiting sluttier girls. It seems to be working on Terence.

The girls in the first group date couldn't stop playfully slapping each other with those riding crops, and the second group immediately began their string bikini/pole dancer fashion show the minute they heard they were going to the beach with Brad. More on the beach date/Channel J audition in a moment.

First, let's discuss The Fall. The scream sound effect could not have been more fake. But it did underscore the fact that we were in for some high impact melodrama. The stretcher. The medivac. The tears. Let's find out what the Bach thinks. He's been busy at the racetrack with the riding crop girls...

Just a quick pause before bringing Brad into the medical emergency: a timeout for a random drive-by visit from San Diego Charger Line Backer Shawn Phillips. What the $#%@? No attempt to provide context or any sort of explanation for why he's at the racetrack, what interest or relevance he could possibly have to The Bachelor and/or why Brad should listen. I'm puzzled by this non sequitur until I remember the objective to increase male viewership. Slutty girls, bikinis and NFL players. Genius.

Back to the girl in the stretcher. Brad receives a dramatic phone call. He seems unable to place a face with the voice. He tells the other girls, "One of the ladies slipped down the stairs and has a mild concussion." Someone must have held up a cue card off camera because he followed up with quick clarification: "It was Michele. From New Jersey." McCarten is so filled with compassion that she wants to know, "Wait. So she has a concussion and she's able to call you?" That McCarten, she sees what's going on here. Images of Bevin's ankle "injury" propelling her to the final two race through McCarten's mind.

Clever girl, she immediately asks for one-one-one time which interrupts Brad as he scans his memory to try and come up with what in the hell Michele from New Jersey looks like. McCarten plants one on him, which God bless him, Brad admits was awful. And he can't stop laughing as he says so. I am afraid my friend may have been right when she rushed to judgement about Brad's lack of intellectual power, however, his goofiness is starting to grow on me.

Hillary provides some commentary from behind the scenes and it quickly becomes apparent that she's on speed. Or has a serious caffeine addiction. Every other word was "frickin'!" (spelled with an "in' exclamation point"). I hope she gets booted quickly because as a cynical New Yorker, I can't abide by such gratuitous exertion of energy.

I don't know what to say about the bikini fashion show. Ri-DI-cu-lous. (Of course, it was Terry's favorite segment.) While mild-concussion-Michele-from-New-Jersey leaned forward to check out a particular pole dancing outfit, I noticed she must be the same Michele I tagged as needing a colorist in the last rose ceremony (the back of her head was taupe). Once I saw the front it was hard to ignore the stripes. I think she must have gotten one of those do-it-yourself highlight shower cap jobbies. Not a good look. And now that she has that neck injury, I don't think a proper colorist can help her.

On to the beach group date. Underwritten by the producers of the "Girls Gone Wild" videos available by mail order on late night cable.

I can't sum up my reaction to Solisa's shameless body shot ploy any better than Bettina's comment, "Seeing Brad do the body shot off Solisa was really hard for me to watch. I was like, 'Oh my God, I think I'm going to throw up. So gross.'" However, the pure entertainment line of the night was when Solisa then went on to explain to Brad that she's a Christian, and she has strong morals. God made her body, so she's comfortable with it. Later in the night she further demonstrated her strong faith by stripping off her top and going skinny dipping. It was hard to deny... she has a nice set of morals.

Jenni gets the first real kiss. There she goes, fanning the fires again. Hillary-I'm-on-speed thinks Jenni is only here to advance her career. (Career? As a stripper?)

Jenni's comment on her one-on-one time indicates her narrow view of topics available for discussion: "We just talked about everything in the whole wide world." They were upstairs for four minutes. They were kissing for three of them. Quite the conversationalists.

On to the rose ceremony. Aside from the medical drama, reflections of Bevin abound. There is another secret divorce. Looking forward to watching that unfold.

During the table top booty shaking competition, did anyone else notice Michele trying to discretely haul her boob back into her dress? 47 minutes and 25 seconds in for those who wish to review the tape (in line with ABC's male viewership strategy, I'm employing NFL language.)

By far, my favorite line of the evening came from Erin, "I came out here to find true love and I meet this beautiful man and just when my faith in relationships was beginning to be restored, I find myself out in the parking lot." At this point, Terence pointed out that if you're really trying to restore your faith in relationships, you probably shouldn't go on TV and prostrate yourself. (Good job, ABC. Pull them in with bikinis. Keep them guessing with NFL player appearances. Make it impossible for them to turn away with train wreck dialogue.)

Can't wait for next week when we get to witness "The most shocking cocktail party ever." Although there was no indication that bikinis would be involved, even Terence got a kick out of that hyperbole.

By the way, if you stuck around till after the credits, you got to see more slutty antics. But the more interesting insight from this little kitchen conversation was the proof that the scream from Michele's fall down the stairs was indeed a sound effect placed in later. No scream after Solisa's naughty-Brad-slap demonstration, although that's where it occurred when shown earlier in the show. I'm shocked that there would be any dramatization.

Rock bottom?

(Judging by what we saw through that "costume" at the VMA Awards, maybe this is not the best title. Moving on...)

We already knew she had lost her mind, now it seems poor Brit has lost her kids. TMZ is reporting Britney Spears has just lost physical custody of her children to Fed-Ex. They'll be handed over on Wednesday. Hopefully someone is keeping a close eye on them until then, because this girl is desperate, and judging by some of her recent weaves, she's capable of unspeakable acts.

Maybe this will be the wake up call she needs.

Speaking of over the edge, given this news - someone better put that "leave Britney alone" freak from youtube on suicide watch. You've probably seen the full video already. Here's an edited version and a funny take from Jimmy Kimmel



Update: Britney was required to hand over the kids on Wednesday, but she voluntarily handed them over to Kevin's bodyguard today after going through the drive through at Carl's Jr.