Let’s see, launch SheWired.com -- check. Attend LA Gay and Lesbian Center Gala and ogle Joely Fisher’s heaving cleavageand flirt with Tipper Gore in the bathroom for charity -- check. Sleep two hours, ride bike to AIDS walk, trudge six miles on an empty stomach and wind up at West Hollywood’s den of inequity, The Abbey, and drink two Bloody Mary’s -- check. Get mildly blitzed and accost WeHo celesbians including Jackie Warner, Tabatha Coffey and Michelle Wolff -- check. Lose last remaining contact lens forcing you to wear out-of-date glasses when inadvertently meeting up with a cutie visiting from out of town -- check.

And that brings me to this week’s Blender. I’m tired and bespectacled and not feeling quite too Tina Fey-hottest-nerd-on-the-planet like, so hold on girls… this might be a bumpy ride.

If you’ll indulge me in whipping out my arsenal of nerdy academic terms to address the Sarah Fey / Tina Palin phenomenon. What the fuck sort of post-modern hot MILF hell are we living through? If politics is indeed business as usual, we are living in the simulacrum. 

Hell, if Alec Baldwin can no longer discern the original from the copy then we are truly screwed because that chubby bastard -- despite his penchant for referring to his daughter as a “rude little pig” via voicemail -- is one wise sage.

That said, I know, I know… hot-assed, pencil skirt sporting Palin is one conservative bitch who’d strip me of all my rights before setting me atop a moose, letting it loose and shooting it down in front of Alaska’s singular lesbian bar... and yet I find her fetching. Which is likely the key to my single status every other year and likely fodder for therapy. I mean really. Beauty pageant babe Palin is ideologically antithetical to my beliefs and well-being -- and 98-percent of the public -- but I’m loathe to hamper the attraction. Maybe I should “Ask Emily” for a little guidance. Of course, she’d wisely berate me for my Palin attraction, forcing me into a sort of advice columnist transference and the cycle would begin again. Oh yeah. But the Blender isn’t about me.

Despite Sarah “I can see Russia from my house” Palin’s good natured SNL appearance, which is likely a blatant gunning for a FOX News talking heads’ show once she and John McCain lose their shirts come election day -- and for Palin that’s not necessarily a bad thing -- and another shot at the ever-charming Tina Fey doing some "fancy pageant walking," it’s time to toss Alaska’s Governor out with the melting polar ice cap… as it were.

You’d think Governor Updo Palin, with her self-reflexive sense of humor, would be a tad fucking hipper, but the uptight rifle toter came out in support of a federal amendment to ban gay marriage.

“In my own, state, I have voted along with the vast majority of Alaskans who had the opportunity to vote to amend our Constitution defining marriage as between one man and one woman. I wish on a federal level that that's where we would go because I don't support gay marriage,” Palin told CBN’s David Brody. Well that’s that. I’m officially hanging up my hormones, extinguishing the torch I carried and detoxing from this whole sordid Palin crush!

On the upside, here’s a girl after our own hearts… Mrs. Mandy Rogers -- I mean Mrs. Portia de Rossi -- I mean Big Gay Ellen Degeneres dug deep into her trouser pockets and whipped out 100k to produce and pay for the air time for her own “No on Prop. 8” PSA.

What’s more heartwarming than America’s most famous lesbian gently prodding the public toward doing the right thing? Well good on Ellen! A hot ass like Portia is absolutely worth 100k to keep it legal. Just a note…I know I come off as a bitter, lonely bitch, and I am. But that said, I nearly wept at Ellen’s and Portia’s sickeningly happy and gorgeous People magazine wedding spread. And that’s just downright humiliated to cry over the glossy pages of People.

More on next page...

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In other happy Lesbo news, yes it’s been written, blogged about and deconstructed ad nauseum but those kids over at Grey’s Anatomy sure know how to keep a nation of first blush relationship hungry lesbians hanging in foreplay hell for the better part of a year. Still, a tip of the trendy page boy cap to Shonda Rhimes for penning a thoroughly watchable, metaphorical blue ball inducing, introduction to real girl on girl attraction. 

Since I’m already in self-flagellating mode thanks to Sarah Palin, I’ll confess I hate myself for getting hooked on Grey’s against my will. Typically, Ellen Pompeo, yawn, Katherine Heigl, yawn, T.R. Knight, yawn and Patrick Dempsey are like one big Lunesta with a Ketel One chaser, but the show’s erstwhile lesbians Callie and Erica played with committed gusto by Big Piped Babe Sara Ramirez and the kick-ass Brooke Smith have me perched at the edge of my Ikea chaise Thursday nights.

Really, going to first -- and second base -- hasn’t been this sexy since my adolescent days of cot hopping at Girl Scout Camp. By the way, is anyone else turned on by the scent of mosquito repellent, campfire and smores lingering on a hoodie? I guess the scent of cherry-flavored Jell-O and a morphine drip do it for Callie and Erica. Furthermore, I could marry that Erica Hahn and not because she's a doc. Any woman who says "finish my wine," and then hands it over is my kind of girl.

Rumor has it there’s trouble in paradise for the Lush the Lez, the Pundit, the Political Blogger Lindsay Lohan and her DJ to the Stars Samantha Ronson. Some nosy broad apparently spilled to DListed's Michael K. that the lovebirds had an hours-long tiff on a train from New York to D.C., which involved Lindsay badgering Sam with “Don’t fucking lie to me,” and Sam nodding and whipped beneath her hoodie. That part sounds about right but what the hell is Benz crasher Lindsay doing on the train?

First she cops to a girl on girl fling with Sam, and then she starts using mass transportation and giving a damn about the environment? Linds is just one Starbucks Latte away from becoming a vegan. If she dons a pair of Crocs and whips out her Joni Mitchell albums, we’ll know the old-school transformation is complete. Fingers crossed that my favorite little unlikely relationship that could is chugging merrily along.

Finally, the economy is in the can, Fox News, CNN and even old, reliable NPR are delivering 24 / 7 doomsday scenarios. Leave it to smarty-pants Natalie Portman and Rashida Jones to devise a solution that’s loads more fun than handing reckless Wall Streeters $700 billion. Their idea? “Puppies!” Natalie, Rashida, a double bed and litters of puppies. Who could want for more? Except if they were playing dress up in Natalie's bodice ripping threads from The Other Boleyn Girl...

Miss the last "Media Blender"? Read it here.