When a fun-loving pair of gossipy homos gets together, nobody is safe. Sure, instant messaging is a wonderful tool for workplace communication and for late-night, ahem, romantic dalliances. But during those down times in the gay media business, what else is there to do but eviscerate the glitterati?
SheWired.com Senior Editor Tracy E. Gilchrist and Advocate.com Editor Ross von Metzke prove that lesbians and gay men do get along... especially when they're getting bitchy over the latest dirt in Hollywood.
The weekend proved tres gay with Tracy hitting up the GLAAD Media Awards and Ross hanging with Cher, Faye Dunaway and some Desperate Housewives. Kathy Griffin rocks a bikini bod at GLAAD, Ellen and Portia win the award for the world's cutest married lesbians, The L Word's Ilene Chaiken rants while Jennifer Beals, Kate Moennig and Leisha Hailey stand by helpless, and Tracy rides the elevator with Kate Walsh and T.R. Knight. Plus, Kelly Clarkson goes from housewife to Coyote Ugly in her new vid.
TEG: Alright. So, I did not go out last night and today I had to take my contacts out because they were dried to my eyeballs, plus I'm about to unhook my bra because it's too tight. How's your Monday?
RvM: I swear I've heard that excuse before, Tracy. You need to be a bit more original next time. Needing to let the dogs run round the yard is not an excuse for being cranky.
TEG: Yes, well, if the excuse fits. I'm just cranky because, apparently I can't have a social life and be functional. One night out at the GLAAD Awards and I'm fucked...and not the good kind.
RvM: Went home alone again huh? Awwww. Pobrecito. But seriously, how was that thing? I'd have gone but I was busy gushing over the Desperate Housewives. Eva Longoria says hi.
TEG: I hope she said that mid-motorboat. GLAAD was good. They are rivaling the Oscars for most eye-rollingly long-ass ceremony. And sorry, but as much as I love her, Thea Gill does not a Kate Winslet or Penny Cruz make.
RvM: It took you about 3 hours to write THAT? I thought you were penning Lady Chatterly's Lover. I heard Cheyenne Jackson made a bunch of horny, middle-age, over tanned queens practically pull a Fergie.
TEG: Sorry, you forget I'm essentially a lez. Yes. Cheyenne was hot... but what's 'doing a Fergie?' Is that a one handed cartwheel while the fat lady sings?
RvM: That’s wetting yourself in public. Come on – you’ve never done it? I know damn well that year you ran into a climaxing Kim Catrall in the ladies room at GLAAD you felt a ‘lil trickle.
TEG: Just because I'm trickling doesn't mean I can't hold it.
RvM: I’ve seen you waddle down the hall after a particularly long meeting. I know those Kegels are working.
TEG: In fact, I'm doing them right now...but anyhoo… Ellen and Portia got an award for being the most lesbian or something. Actually, Ellen's show was up against four episodes of Tyra and one Oprah episode and they gave it to the homo. Good move.
RvM: I saw that... Best TV episode for their wedding -- I love the concept. I love The GLAAD Awards. But seriously -- wasn't the competition like Tyra talks trannies, Tyra talks gay-for-pay, Tyra talks to Beyonce, and Oprah and Gayle go to Walmart? Of course they won.
TEG: I'm sorry but I think Oprah and Gayle could give El and Portia a run for their lezzie money.
RvM: That road trip alone was like Dykes On Bikes the extended cut, except they had a Chevy and Gayle sang Celine Dion tunes.
TEG: They would have won if Latifah had turned up on her hog, and by hog, I don't mean her trainer. Celine Dion tunes?
RvM: If Latifah towed them across the across the Canadian Rockies?
TEG: Doesn't Celine sing everyone else's shit?
RvM: Fuck you. She has many an original tune.
TEG: Hell, even Susan Boyle is owning “My Heart Will Go On” now.
RvM: Oh please. Celine should be so lucky. Next to Susan Boyle, Celine Dion looks like Gisele Bundchen.
TEG: Awww. Susan's a diamond in the rough. A tweeze, a trainer and a stylist and Susan could rival Rosie. Oh. Is that mean? You know I love Ro.
RvM: No, it’s not mean, it’s honest. Though I don’t think the Scots like clogs. They clash with their kilts. Crocs.
TEG: Good point! Hmmm. So Megan Mullally and Julia Louis-Dreyfuss accepted and award for their lezzie-ish Christine episode. And they wouldn't make out on stage. Teases. I swear.
RvM: Two late 40-somethings getting it up for each other? I can see that whetting your whistle. Megan's new show sucks my ass, btw.
TEG: I forgot about it. I haven't been home to watch. See. I'm trying to get away from the couch and the kitty scenario.
RvM: Well, if Kathy Griffin in a bikini can’t get you off your couch, I don’t know what will. Brave of her to do that on stage. Who'd they make her walk out with?
TEG: She strolled out alone. TR Knight presented her Vanguard award and it was none too soon because between the AC, the four Absolut Mango and sodas I guzzled during the open bar and the three-hour fest, I was snoozing hard. Kath honored gay marriage by affixing a white knot to her crotch.
RvM: Oh please. I know you -- you were probably doing shots out in the courtyard with Thea Gill, my new girlfriend Teri Hatcher, and Tammy Lynn Michaels knocking back a glass of chardonnay because she pumped the night before.
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TEG: Oh, Tammy Lynn, I know so much about her breast feeding and potty training her children habits from that blasted blog of hers I don't think I could look her in the eye. Seriously, Hi, Mrs. Tammy Lynn Etheridge, how are your chafed nips today?
RvM: Well, that pick up line usually works for you at the dyke march, so why not? What else is going on this week?
TEG: Speaking of Tammy Lynn, who played a stalker on The L Word, The L Word won the Vito Russo award. And for a minute, going through the clips, I remembered that it was kind of ground breaking. And then, Ilene Chaiken's ego took over the room. Crazy rambled on for 20 minutes with a faux pitch while Beals, Moennig and Hailey stood behind her like pretty soldiers pretending not to lose it. The camera panned to each one of them and the horny girls in the audience screamed and Chaiken still wouldn’t shut it. I wanted to run up there with a straight jacket a muzzle and a fistful of Haldol.
RvM: Vito Russo (born 1946, New York City - died November 7, 1990, New York City) was an American LGBTactivist, film historian and author who is best remembered as the author of the book The Celluloid Closet (1981, revised edition 1987).
TEG: Thank you. But now I realize they didn't win the Vito Russo. Suze Orman won that in New York. Whoops.
RvM: Anyway, I didn't know, so I had to look it up.
TEG: Now you know.I love The Celluloid Closet btw.
RvM: Past recipients have included Cherry Jones, Rosie O'Donnell, Alan Cumming. So, now that The L Word has one, what's next? Chicks from South of Nowhere?
TEG: I did see Mandy Musgrave! Yum. I stood nearby and debated if I should say "Hi, we chatted for 20 minutes when I was tanked at Power Up. Can we be Facebook friends”?
RvM: Did she remember you from that evening you downed a half bottle of Patron, told her to call you Headmistress Gilchrist and ordered her to wear a plaid skirt hemmed three inches above the knees to your door later than night? You’re so predictable. All of your fantasies involve booze, repressed Catholic girls or Barbara Cooper.
TEG: Or Barbara Cooper as a repressed Catholic girl.
RvM: Drunk on peach schnapps.
TEG: Or Cold Duck. So... I owe a mea culpa to Kate Walsh and TR Knight.
TEG: For repeatedly writing ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
zzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. They bore me after their names.
RvM: Awww. Did they read SheWired and put a hit out on you?
TEG: Naw, but they let my friends on the elevator when their bitch of a pocket gay publicist tried to shut them out so as not to ruffle Walsh's pantsuit.
RvM: Its always the publicist. I hate them. They're all pissed because they make a fraction of what their clients make, are always two sizes too big for anything that comes out of a gifting suite, and at the end of the day, never make the short list of people who get thanked at awards ceremonies. You might as well be the maid. At least that’s honest work.
TEG: And you can steal the shit left over in the gifting suite. Not that maids steal. It's just that whatever Louis Vuitton and True Republic leave in an Oscar gifting suite is fair game.
RvM: I love that you put that in there in case any maids are reading this. Good thinking!
TEG: You know I'm loathe to offend. Tell me about your tres-gay encounter with Cher, Faye Dunaway, Hatcher and Longoria.
RvM: Cher wore a cowboy hat and jeans, said shit, damn and fuck, sat in front of me for two hours and made my night. Faye looked like a hat brim with cheeks and teeth, but posed for photos. God love her. Too few people wear lace, black gloves and bolero hats anymore.
TEG: Did Cher lasso you and brand your ass with a double CC while Faye beat you with a wire hanger? Because they did in my version.
RvM: No, they were in fact very kind to each other, and to the crowd. Though I was waiting for Eva Maria Sanit to pull a pistol on Faye -- stealing her thunder. Eva Marie was in on the waterfront. Lady deserves respect.
TEG: Damn. I forgot Eva Marie was there. North by Northwest too. Hitchcock Blond. Ohhh. I'd have needed a crash cart for all of that celluloid hotness.
RvM: Well, keep in mind, Cher was the youngest person on that stage at 84 years old, I doubt Eva Marie was gonna be making you tickle downstairs.
TEG: Speaking of crash cart...what's with you sending me Kelly Clarkson's new vid on a Sunday after 5? That shit's like caffeine for me. I can only handle it early in the day or I'm too stimulated to sleep.
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RvM: Well, I couldn’t resist. Pearls, a sweater set, some frat girls, Pabst Blue Ribbon and size 8 hips -- I knew it would make your dykometer flutter.
TEG: And that's just what you were wearing. Oh…You mean Kelly. It's like Revolutionary Road, the girls gone wild version.
RvM: Pretty much -- except in Kelly's version, she doesn’t go all If These Walls Could Talk.
TEG: Oooh. Damn. Yeah, while Winslet was verbally abusing DiCaprio it was like porn for me, then it not so much. Think I'll watch Kelly some more. Although, Kelly and Winslet could go If These Walls Could Talk 2. Lesbians in fifties fetish clothing. Anyway, I'm going to sign off and think about that while.
RvM: What the hell kind of casting school did you go to? Kelly Clarkson and Kate Winslet? What's that shit? What, did Winslet take a trip abroad to Burleson, Texas and run into Kelly at a hog tie? What about Beyonce and Kristin Scott Thomas in a lesbian romance? Beyonce can make Kristin pay her "bills bills bills" and then Kristin can ditch Sasha Fierce somewhere in the Sahara and make her spend five fucking endless hours walking home as revenge for having to endure The English Patient.
TEG: Oh please, you just have Beyonce and Ali Larter on the brain. That's akin to Glenn Close and Lil' Kim going at it.
RvM: Isn’t that the Mary Kay Letourneau story as told by Oxygen?
TEG: Stop with the Mary Kay story.
RvM: Television for housewives and bored lesbians.
TEG: That's research for me.
RvM: Just like Lifetime is television for suburban homos and the Hallmark channel for old ladies and people with bibles in their glove boxes.
TEG: What about homos who've never missed an episode of All My Children? You're so superior.
RvM: I skipped two this week. Susan is on leave. You’d better tune in this week. I hear before Tamara Braun skips town, she and Jamie Luner throw down on a jukebox.
TEG: HOT shit! I'm there. And on that note, I need to be alone. Only if they're playing "Don't Stop Believing" on the juke though.
RvM: Ooooh… That busy sign went up on your cubicle wall quick!
Tracy?
Hello!
Eh, fine
Later slut
