It's not like they don't ask for it

3 wasted hours and 2 Diet Coke with Limes (or would it be diet cokes with lime??) later... I finally turned off the useless parade of scantily clad celebrities. Celebrities, most of which loosely use the term "musician" to define themselves. I have spent the last few hours watching the Video Music Awards.

My goodness.

Now, don't get me wrong... I understand the celebrity concept. I understand why the magazines I spend a very small yet somehow significant portion of my paycheck on take that concept and run with it . Its no different here than it is anywhere else in the world. The blokes across the pond watch Posh Spice and her soccer player/mannequin-look-alike husband take their morning jog through Picadilly Circus...not to mention keep close British eyes on the crazy cast of Royals. Greece tracks the destinations of their Paris Hilton dating shipping heirs and Germany keeps a tight reign on their Hasselhoff. And rightfully so, our America has her own nose stuck so deeply in the business of celebrities I can catch a whiff of Dolce and Gabbana on a breezy spring afternoon.

Its 'Dawson's Creek' with a story far too real for James VanDerbeek. The best part... much like Dawson's Creek... is that we can sit back, open a cold one, and watch that story unfold from our busted up Lazy-Boy recliners. Its like watching a good girl fight in the high school cafeteria or slowing to look for the body bag at the accident on the Eisenhower.
We keep our peace and they do all the hard stuff. When their "long-term relationship" ends after 3 weeks, we feel better about ours only lasting a month. When they gain a few around the middle, we feel a lot better about that Strawberry Cheesequake Blizzard reaking havoc on our lactose intolerant gullet.

I dont wish it for myself, that's for sure...being followed by flashbulbs and the like. But it works for Nicole Richie... probably because she has those unbelievably large sunglasses to shield her skinny pupils.

As much as I don't understand why one can justify a 8 figure salary for re-enacting a life that has already been lived (for free none the less!)... I support the tabloids. Although they cost 3.99 at the grocery counter, they are fun and if you dive into US Weekly or In Style (or any number of the other ones printing the exact same pictures as the first) knowing that it's no Washington Post... as is well. As long as you don't buy into all that madness... you'll be fine.

For now... I'm going to wash my face with the skin care regime Jessica Simpson promotes, spray my linens with the newest J-Lo perfume, and read the next chapter in my new Kaballah book....

Goodnight,
Tempa