Metrosexual Smack Down: Are You Still a Guy?

I called my friend a metrosexual after he returned to the office with waxed eyebrows and he went completely Marlboro Man on me. The ensuing days weeks have been a fascinating experiment in the organics of machismo, culminating in the most fantastic declaration of manhood I have ever read, heard and fell asleep to. More on that later.

For those unfamiliar with the term metrosexual, it describes men who are very concerned with their appearance and engage in services or use products traditionally marketed to female consumers--At least that's my definition of it. Turns out, if you Google it, words like "dandy", "feminine" and "queer" appear in search results as synonyms of metrosexual. Three....two....one.....KABOOM!

Evidently teasing my friend about his waxed brows and neon white teeth ignited a masculinity challenge the likes of which may never have been seen before. Nothing against feminine dandies and queers, but that's not what I intended to call my friend. Too bad my word on that's just not good enough for him.

Since being labeled metrosexual, he has started each morning by telling me all the burly, rugged, manly things he's done the previous night: chopped firewood (we're city dwellers, mind you), worked on his TRUCK, popped bottle caps with his teeth. And on. He's been ordering medium rare steaks for lunch a lot more frequently. He even came to work with some stains on his pants, oil from changing the car's that morning. Down, boy, down!

Well, before he comes to the office with splinters in his teeth from eating tree trunks for breakfast, I'm happy to say it seems the metrosexual smack down has culminated to a deserving end with his sending me the video to a most apropos song, Brad Paisley's "I'm Still a Guy".

Nothing further need be said on my part, really. Just take a listen and read the rugged lyrics. I've fallen asleep to this wonderful tune for the past two nights and consider it the manly man's lullaby.

"Whatever You Like" by Rapper T.I. Reminds Us Sugga Daddies Are Great

Ladies, is the economy cramping your style some? Listen carefully to rapper T. I. explain why you might consider getting a sugar daddy, at least until the Dow Jones volatility stabilizes a little. His lyrics describe the good life that could be yours if "you da hottest love the way you drop it. Brain so good swore you went to college." Sound like you? I'm sure it's okay if you really did go to college. I think the most important thing is the 'way you drop it' part.

Still not convinced? I applaud you for being cautious, but T. I. sounds like he's livin' pretty large. Think of all the other successful bidness men out there looking for a shawty to lavish their successful lifestyle on (for those not as familiar with rap as I am, you don't actually have to be short for consideration. Shorty is just a term of endearment.) Check it:

From T. I.'s "Whatever You Like"

Ya need to never ever gotta go to yo wallet
Long as I got rubber band banks in my pocket
Five six, rides with rims and a pocket kit
Ya ain't gotta downgrade you can get what I get
My chick could have what she want
And go in any store for any bag she want

Alllllright! I have an obsession with bags. My eyes are bigger than my check book. This sounds like an excellent solution, and then some. T. I. sums it up nicely with this, "... You want it I got it, go get it, I buy it...". And all he asks in return are a few requests that are a bit too direct to post, even here. He does water it down towards the end of the chorus, saying, "...he want my body, need my body, long as I got him I won't need nobody".

Fair enough. Listen gals, with Christmas coming up sugga daddies are in high demand right now. You'll need to make yourself stand out from the competition. Do some research. Watch T. I.'s video below, beyotch. (Just practicing)

Lyrics | T.I. lyrics - Whatever You Like lyrics

D.L. Hughley When Breaking the News on CNN Remove Your Pimp Jewelry

CNN is brilliant for hiring D.L. Hughley to break the news; he's brought smart funnies to the network whose best anchors are anything but funny. I respect Larry King's interviewing skills, but lately he's burped odd little leprechaun giggles on more than one inappropriate occasion. I like Anderson Cooper's globe trotting investigations, but his constantly furled brow gives me a tension headache if I watch too long because I'll furl my own subconsciously. And what can I say about Wolf Blitzer? Well, if I can't sleep I turn Wolf on because his monotone lulls me into dreamland.

So, D.L. is a welcome addition indeed. His comedy is original and entertaining and I also like his commentary. Watching him tonight as I've come to do each evening, I caught a glimpse of the timepiece on his wrist. Oh hells no. The damn watch was big as a Frisbee with diamonds prisming aurora borealis lights left and right. And those four-carat diamond studs in both ears? C'mon D.L., lose the P.I.M.P. bling. You don't want those kind of laughs do you, playah?

I Don't Think Michael Moore is a Full Douche Bag Anymore

My previous opinion of Michael Moore as an obnoxious America-hating slobtastic douche has been altered by Moore's appearance on Larry King last night. Moore, a Flint, Michigan native and former General Motors employee, made some pretty excellent points about the failing auto industry on the show. He talked about their failing product line and unreliable vehicle performance as the reasons behind the industry's pending collapse. He opposed the blank check bailout requested by the three stooges on capitol hill yesterday because they'll continue making their bad management decisions with our billions of tax dollars. Instead, he said the government should take the reigns of Chrysler, GM and Ford, replace the management team and direct the companies to produce mass transit and hybrid cars, among other things. Check him out.

Jennifer Hudson's Brother in Law William Balfour Looks Like the Boogie Man

Damn. If I saw this walking toward me, I would cross the street. But how about waking up next to him? Would you scream? That would be pretty hard if he's stepping on your throat. I know you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but this cover suggests a murder mystery's inside. Oh, wait...

Howie Mandel is a Tool. NO DEAL.

Situation: I do love the Deal or No Deal show but Howie Mandel's stupid commentary is insufferable.

Do you watch Deal? If so, how to you deal with the host's moronic chirping to the contestants? Let me explain. Nearly every show, the contestant has whittled away at the big dollar amounts on the case board and stands there, wringing hands on national television about to piss it all away, when Howie invariably asks, "Susan, there are three cases left including yours. One contains the million dollars. You need to open one case. How will you feel if you eliminate the million?"

WTF? How do you think she'll feel? She'll feel like a complete clown and want to vomit on her feet as she runs off stage hysterically crying, if she's anything like me. This kind of stating the obvious chitter chatter in the slowest possible manner to "amp the drama" torks me too much to watch the show anymore.

I end up mouthing off at the TV screen like an angry little woman. As you can imagine, this behavior isn't helping anyone, least of all my blood pressure which is already elevated from screaming at the contestants to, "TAKE THE DEAL!". Why do they always push it one case too far? Oh well, who am I to judge?

Wait a minute! This is Diva Cosmos where judgmental commentary is not only preferred, but a fine tuned skill. So along those lines, let's talk about that soul patch. It's not a good look for you to rock, Howie. With the silly fist bumping and somewhat phobic demeanor, 'smooth' just doesn't come to mind with Howie Mandel. And smoothness is a requirement for soul patches.

Anywhoos, I think I've found a good solution for myself. I watched the show with the volume muted and found it much more enjoyable. If I can just resist the urge to read lips, I should be good to go.

John Edwards Joins Lying Bastard Brigade with Rielle Hunter Affair

John Edwards ding dong ditched the rumors and direct questions about an alleged affair with his campaign aid Rielle Hunter from mid 2007 all the way until today when he admitted he did in fact dabble in her honey pot, BUT he didn't love her and his wife's cancer was in remission at the time. Oh good, that really makes all the difference. Those two conditional statements make the reveal even more humiliating for Elizabeth Edwards. How despicable.

Big bad John spoke to ABC news correspondent Bob Woodruff in an interview airing on Nightline tonight about the affair with 44-year-old Hunter that began in 2006. Interesting he chose to disclose the day the Olympics open in China. Hoping for some shelter from the media storm, John? Doesn't seem to be playing out that way.

Now the fun really begins for cynics like me. All the networks are playing sound bites of Edwards saying morally upstanding things that are now painfully ironic. Even the interview Rielle Hunter (formerly Lisa Druck who wanted to sound Hollywood and invented a new name for herself) gave in 2007 to Extra takes on a whole new read between the lines meaning, as does her strange grin throughout the video. The affair had been a year-long diddy at that time. Let me also say her headband looks dumb. In the video with Extra she says her experience "working" with Edwards was life altering. He was so "willing to try new things" and "so open". Yes, well, apparently it was she who was very open. Tramp.

Let's face it, the other woman is just as much to blame as the douche bag man cheater, if not more. Men think with their tools and if the woman says no, that's the end of it. But she said yes, repeatedly it seems.

So now we have mental images of John Edwards cowering in a basement bathroom at the Beverly Hilton Hotel last month, holding the door closed as reporters asked what he was doing there at 2:00 a.m. Presumably kissing Rielle Hunter goodnight, who was a guest of the hotel that night.

The side story on this is of course the lack of coverage from the mainstream media and accusations of how much more publicity the story would have gotten had the adulterer been a republican politician. I'd like to think it was consideration for Mrs. Edwards' health that discouraged media attention. But that's probably naive. Since when is the media concerned with anyone's health and well-being.

Anyway, now that we have a full circle mess, we can expect that Rielle Hunter will get rich from books, movies and interviews. I am guessing we will have to endure a press conference held by Edwards with his wife holding his hand and perhaps saying a few words of forgiveness. Another political wife swallowing shit for her husband and smiling through humiliation.

Look what you did, John Edwards, you lying bastard. So maybe your chances of being invited onto Obama's ticket are over. You'll get some advice from Bill Clinton, the White House gigolo, and be just fine as you leave a wake of ruin behind for your family. Sometimes men suck.

Ten Percent of Rap Songs Make Excellent Points

The other 90%, sound like angry people with cotton in their mouths - kind of like what you hear at the dentist's office, but with woofers, more bass and a lot more "bitch" and "mufuggas" thrown in. But every now and then, a cRap song comes along that really teaches society something.

Consider Webbie's "Independent" song, or better recognized by white people as that catchy tune about a hard working young lady who doesn't need a sugar daddy. First, he speaks clearly enough for me to understand most of the lyrics and they're pretty good advice. For example:

She got her own shit.

She don't never trip

'cause all she want is that dick.

She bouncy flossy, keep them hoes off me.

Gotta little slang, man I love when she talking.

A independent chick, do you know what that mean?

She cook, she clean, never smell like onion rings.

Deep! Right off the bat I'm in his corner, pumping my fist. It's always a good idea for us to have our own shit. I can't go along with "never tripping", because a good crazy tripping does wonders for a relationship every now and then. But he wins me back with the next line. Moving on, not too sure what "bouncy flossy" means, but what girl in the game doesn't want to keep hoes off her man? Hold on. Let me Google "bouncy flossy". We can all use some more tricks in our hoe removal tool box...

And we're back. From the Urban Dictionary:

Votes: 1499 up, 100 down -
Flossy: Extremely flashy or showy.

Alright, I'll leave the "bouncy" part up to interpretation. So back to Webbie's verse. A little slang goes a long way at making your conversations more meaningful. I like to say, "What it do, what it do, bitch?" when greeting my girlfriends and also, "Quit icin' my grill, aiight?"when someone expresses an unfavorable opinion of me. Try out some urban slang and see how you feel. I suggest you do it at the office.

And finally, I'm not too sure what's so bad about smelling like onion rings. I mean, there are a lot worse smells to have. After a day of cooking and cleaning, I usually smell like, oh wait, I don't cook or clean. I'm independent enough to pay people for that stuff.

Let's bounce, beyotch!

Five Men Who Pinch Themselves

Do you ever wonder how ijits get so lucky? It happens under so many circumstances: the donkey playing rags sucks you out with trips on the river on Full Tilt Poker; the drunk driver creams a car, kills the victims and walks away with a broken toe into the loving arms of rehab; the welfare baby mama wins the state lottery; the boring dork gets his own talk show. Grrr.

That last one yanks my chain. I really want my own talk show. Since it always makes me feel better to take cheap shots at people anonymously online, here are five men who must surely pinch themselves each day in total disbelief at their luck. The winners in descending order of obnoxiousity:

1. Ryan Seacrest: Can you say overexposed? Say it with me: Over-effin-exposed! If this little boy and his funny pubescent hair show up on one more shitty reality show, I'm going to.....do nothing. Because the lamer among us think he's fantastic. He produces reality shows for skanks the Kardashians and Denise Richards, hosts American Idol and owns about 10 restaurants. He must be laughing his ass off.
2. Carson Daly: He looks like a monkey and he's not funny. Enough said. Jennifer Love, what were you thinking?
3. Howie Mandel: Where to start? He's a constant irritation on Deal. Repeating yourself and stating the obvious shouldn't earn you a salary to live large on. When I'm enjoying myself watching people piss away thousands of dollars, I don't want him cutting in with, "You're about to make a very big decision" three times before the commercial. And you are so not rocking the soul patch, Howie.
4. Furnell Chapman: This NBC anchorman has the worst comb-over known to man. If a woman news anchor has split ends she's fired. Actually, Grandpa Furnell's hair is more of a comb-around and up rather than a comb-over. Just shave the filth off.
5. Wolf Blitzer: CNN's anchor robot. Take speech lessons or someone load a jalapeno into his ass. Anderson Cooper could wiggle in there and do it. Please.

None of these people would be employed in my cosmos (except Anderson, he's a cute little moy!). They would have to clean litter boxes for food. Oh, try this for your cat boxes. It's the best! What do you think of my list?

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