TEG: Hey homo... What-cha doing? I know you have to see a horse about a man or something and my bra's too tight again. Do you want to fill me in on what's happening this week? Aside from our office's obsession with Brenda Dickson?

RvM: Yes, for those of you who don't know, Brenda Dickson is a 1987 Soap Opera Digest Award winner for Best Villainess... as presented by Susan Lucci... She is also a fashion guru, a fitness expert and red carpet extraordinaire and a fierce fucking bitch.

TEG: And she wears lamay in a closet nearly as well as you do, Ross.

RvM: Bite me, buela. Any-who, on to something more productive. Did you see those pics of Rosie O’Donnell lunching with Gloria Estefan and Kathy Griffin in Miami?

TEG: Did you mean to say abuela? Bite me grandma? You're a bitch. But what I wouldn't give to be riding shotgun next to Kathy Griffin while Rosie speeds through South Beach sporting Crocs, dueting with Estefan on "The Rhythm is Gonna Get You" while Rosie tosses empty Miller Lite bottles out the window.

RvM: Or hands them to Gloria to crush on her forehead. She’s lookin’ hot, but she looks tough in those pics. Rosie and Gloria as Lucy and Ethel. I didn’t see that one coming.

TEG: What does that make Kathy Griffin? Fred Mertz?

RvM: She's like Tallulah Bankhead after they move out to the country, but if we're gonna be accurate, I guess Kathy is Fred and Emilio Estefan can cameo as Desi.

TEG: BABALOOOOOO! Maybe that's what they were singing in South Beach. But really…Purple Crocs?

RvM: I love that its march here and we're all bundled up and they wandering around town in linen, Crocs and with the top down. Bitches.

TEG: I know. This is LA. Aren't we supposed to be cruising up through Malibu in my Scion with the window rolled down and wailing on "Barracuda?"

RvM: Does it have hubcaps once again?

TEG: I purchased some lovely hubcaps after some desperate fucker took mine. Really!

RvM: I know. I went without for two years on a 1987 Subaru, which truth be told should really have been your car, but I digress. What's this about broke ass LiLo dropping $100 k on a Maserati?

TEG: Ummm, I'm a Subaru-free dyke.

RvM: Suze Orman would whip her with a riding crop.

TEG: Suze Orman would break out the Valtrex and Purel before going anywhere near the lez the lush the Lohan... even with a riding crop. Now that's a sound investment.

RvM: LOL. Suze "fuck you bush" Orman. I love that she told that Texas fuck off.

TEG: I missed it! Fill me in.... I've been in a no-wine-till-Dinah coma.

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RvM: Basically, she said that bush single handedly fucked up the economy and he should be giving every last dime he has to broke Americans between that and Judge Judy chastising homophobic Californians, I felt like grabbing a bottle of merlot and heading uptown for a night of bitching and bridge in one of their 48th floor condos.

TEG: Bitching and bridge with Judge Judy and Suze Orman? You'd better wear a cup!

RvM: Please. They'd better wear a cup. Those ladies have balls.

TEG: Touche!

RvM: You know who else has balls?

TEG: Not me.

RvM: Joyce Dewitt. After 20 years out of the spotlight, she's going on an RV tour of America with Livingston Wine, hitting up AARP meetings for Boniva and a trace of anyone who remembers who the fuck she is.

TEG: Hey, I'm there! Shit wine and a has-been actress. That's the stuff that makes my heart sing! You know she's got a thigh-master as a voodoo doll on the Livingston Wine tour bus.

RvM: That f-ing AARP sent me a membership card. Wonder if it would get me in. I’m 29, but I could be just like Madge eating salmon and whitefish and fucking a 23 year old Brazilian to keep my shit tight.

TEG: Hmmmm. That's good advice. Where can I find me one of them 23-year-olds?

RvM: Bring cash and head to Cabo for spring break with a bottle of hornitos and a Sharper Image massager.

TEG: Only with me, I'd drink the hornitos at the border and wind up the main act in a donkey show in Juarez.

RvM: Like ping-pong Penny in Priscilla.

TEG: Pretty much! How's that for alliteration?

RvM: I don’t even remember that lady's name. I just know she made me feel filthy -- kinda the same way I feel after a Natasha Lyonne movie.

TEG: Poor Lyonne. So much promise in Slums of Beverly Hills.

RvM: I blame Eddie Furlong, Party Monster and her father. Anyway, that depresses me -- we should move on to something else, or stick with Joyce. She's a hoot. I wonder if she's still holding a grudge against Suzanne.

TEG: I said… She's using a thigh-master as a voodoo doll on the Livingston bus. She unscrews a cap of Pinot Grigio, guzzles, cries and sticks pins in it bemoaning the fact that she never was the big-tiited blonde.

RvM: Hey, those thigh-masters and bestselling books about hormone replacement have built two (going on three) homes in Malibu. If fucking Janet Wood would stop lighting those things on fire, Suzanne could retire in peace, save a weekly swing by Larry King to talk about absolutely nothing.

TEG: Yes, but it lights Larry King's fire so to speak and keeps his dentures from freezing in place.

RvM: Nasty. So what else you got, nana?

TEG: Hmmm. Let me think about that pizza-face.

RvM: Is that a dig at my use of Proactive? Listen, as someone who's one hot flash away from being dead downstairs, you’d better watch it!

TEG: Oh I am not dead! I know that every time I watch All My Children on YouTube or my worn-thin copy of Sense and Sensibility on my old VHS player.

RvM: Tamara Braun still lights your ole Lincoln Logs, huh?

TEG: Yes Ma’am! So...about these Gossip Girl pics. Who knew Leighton Meester was a bottom?

RvM: Power bottom. I think Blake Lively looks like the type who would come off as the aggressor and have a pressing BlackBerry message to return mid thrust.

TEG: A TEASE!

RvM: Those two girls are smoking’. They make those 90210 whores look like Tara Reid stand-ins at a Boca Raton hot dog eating contest.

TEG: They are smokin'! I know the lezzies are pissed that these young’ins keep doing photo shoots to please the male gaze-- as it were. I don't know if I need to get a more lively companion than my cat but those pics did it for me.

RvM: Yeah. Blake likely could single handedly end lesbian bed-death, MeeMaw.

TEG: Who you calling Memaw when you're idol is a petrified 62-year old soap diva?

RvM: You leave the Looch out of this. She is a priceless gemstone. And if you say anything about cystic acne or rosacea as a teen, I’ll show up at the Dinah with 1700 frat boys from SDSU and a Ford F150 loaded with kegs.

TEG: Bring it on! You know I'm more comfortable around gay swinging dicks than I am around my own kind.

RvM: You’ll need three sets of spanks to recover from the poolside motorboat competition.

TEG: I'd need a good plastic surgeon to figure out a way to keep ‘em up after that. My Warner’s bra ain't gonna cut it.

RvM: Blair Warner’s bra?

TEG: Ahhh. Blair Warner. When I discovered my love of rich bitches turned uber-Christian Right, uptight, repressed, judgmental, hell and damnation you filthy homo types.

RvM: Didn’t she put that thing in a time capsule with her promise ring and a pair of Mindy Cohn's bicycle shorts?

TEG: Her bra? And Tootie's roller skates I'm fairly certain.

RvM: Ok, all this Three's Company, Facts of Life Talk is giving me a headache. I need a drink. Listen grams, I’m gonna hit the road.

TEG: Come over to my cubicle, Grace.

RvM: Why? You gonna try and lure me into the hall with beef jerkey and poppers again? I fell for that once... fuck you if I fall so easily again!

TEG: Oh fuck you! I'm sure you have to run off to a matinee of Julia Roberts in Duplicity just so you can identify with her removing her thong for Clive Owen.

RvM: I have tickets to the 8:05 showing you ignorant slut. And on that note, peace out.

TEG: You too, fatty! 

RvM: Arbuckle? Theatre queen.

TEG: Kay...ciao for real. I have to go ready myself for a weekend alone with my South of Nowhere collection.

 Miss the last Gossip Girl? Read it here!