Found on Craigslist

VH1 and BRET MICHAELS will hit the road literally…to find true love on the
ROCK OF LOVE BUS with BRET MICHAELS.

VH1 is loading up a tour bus filled with beautiful babes and taking them on tour across the country. The Rock of Love Bus with Bret Michaels takes contestants out of the mansion and on the road in true rock star style. This season will feature all-new ladies vying for Bret’s affection while traveling across America following Bret on a month-long tour. The contestants will face new challenges to see if they can handle the rock star life on the road. If you are a sexy single lady looking for love who can party like a rock star, then this is the show for you.

To audition in New York City or Hoboken please email us the following info asap. Send us your

Name
Age
Phone Number
Myspace Link
A Short Bio

And Attach a Photo

Send an email to:
NYRock@realtalentcasting.com

All applicants must be 21+
Characters Wanted

Yo. Um. My bad.

I am so sorry I haven't written in so long. I have been knee deep in research on my newest obsession.I know I'm behind the times. We're already two or three episodes into season two, so that's why I've been doing research.

No. Seriously. I've been reading up on the Coreys -- especially Haim because he's the most tragic and you know how I love tragic -- for days. I've watched past episodes on You Tube. It started this past weekend while I was on house arrest for that little incident I had in Kentucky a couple of months back. I decided to use my time at home to catch up on some marathon television watching.

As is usually the case with vacations and returning home, as soon as I got back from Nevis I was slammed with work.

Kev: Hey! Did you have a good trip?

Me: Yeah. It was awesome.

Kev: Great! So, here's a request for proposal you're going to have to do over the internet with big name company on Tuesday and then we have an event with other big name company on Friday. They want custom linens and couch covers made from black cashmere. They load in at 4AM Thursday. Welcome home.

Because I'm good, I got it all done. But it totally put a cramp in my Welcome Back to America TV time I had planned. Going on vacation is fantastic, but almost as fantastic is coming home from vacation to have a week's worth of DVR material saved up to watch all at one time. So, when I was on my Jefferson County, Kentucky imposed "time out", I caught up on all I had missed in the two weeks I had been away from my beloved DVR, and still had time to explore new shows. That's how I found the Coreys.

I knew about the show, of course. But I never made the effort to find out when it was on and set the DVR to record it. And, since the DVR came into my life, this is pretty much the only way for me to see shows. I have no tolerance for commercials, and on the off chance I do happen to hit [GUIDE] instead of [LIST] and I see something interesting, I watch until the first commercial then I hit record and come back for the rest later.

Side note: You know, I've been working on my tendency to be a control freak and I've been feeling like I've gotten so much better. But, I think I just realized that maybe I haven't gotten better. I think I've just transferred my control to my DVR. It has turned me into the world's most efficient television watcher. My remote control reflexes are catlike in their speed and precision. Erica's pretty good too, but I'm definitely the best. Our rule is, "Fuck up once, try again. Fuck up twice, hand it over." She's handed it over way more than I have.

Anyway. Back to the Coreys. I saw that a couple of episodes were on so I hit record and later in the day I came back to watch. Have you seen this show people? It is phenomenal! And by phenomenal I mean pathetic.

It is heartbreaking and tragic and ... I mean. Did you know about this?That's right. He's back and he had this published in Variety to let everyone know.

I swear I am not making this up.

And, yes, that is a heart over the I in Haim, just like the pull-out poster I had from Teen Beat so I know it's really him.

Dear readers, if you didn't already know, you are going to love this. Corey Haim and Corey Feldman are in couple's therapy to try to save their twenty-year friendship. And they're televising it for me and probably twenty or thirty other people who have too much time on their hands and too little discrimination about what they'll watch on television.

So, around the fourth session of therapy Haim decides that there are people who he needs to "You know, like, 'Yo. Um. My bad.' You know what I'm saying? Like, 'I'm sorry, or make amends" to. After therapy he goes home to do some soul-searching. With his assistant. He dictates while Nelle writes his list that includes all of his ex's and most of the 80's Hollywood teen set.

When the list starts hitting triple digits, Corey in a time-saving effort, decides that the best way is to just tell everyone that he's sorry all at the same time. And since, apparently, everyone he wants to make amends to has an agent (Winona Ryder, Alyssa Milano, Todd Bridges), he goes with an ad in Variety. (Every time I type that, it makes me throw up a little bit, the humiliation I feel for him is so strong.) "It's on every agent's desk at 7 or 8 in the morning."

His dildo of an assistant who I am sure is a very sweet girl, and probably has his best interest (or her paycheck) in mind, just goes along with him.

Yeah Corey! That's a fantastic idea! Totally. You should totally do this. People will be so touched that you thought so much of them as to apologize in such a sweet way.

So sweet, in fact, that the unpleasantness of the "Yo. Um. My bad." part of the apology doesn't actually appear anywhere in the text. And the photo shoot was so important that he didn't even take the time to light a fresh cigarette off of the burning butt clinched in his "ready to work" fingers. People, that (and the, "This is not a stunt part.") proves just how much this is not a publicity stunt to get work. If you don't believe him, just write. corey@coreyhaim.tv. Feel free to attach any scripts you may have lying around.

It's killing me. I feel so bad for this guy. He's an addict and is not thinking straight and apparently he has no one around him to stop him from making an ass of himself in the most public way possible. Did you know he tried to sell his teeth and hair on ebay? Yep. Sure did. Were they his baby teeth? Nope. Adult sized molar is what I saw. Know why? Heroin. Oh my god. Can you stand it? I just hope that someone out there in A&E land is planning an, "Intervention," meets, "The Two Coreys" show very, very soon.jail,

Shopping in Your Pajamas. Or not.

Hi everybody!

I've missed you guys. We just got back from Nevis last night and I can not wait to tell you all about it. It was amazing. Monkeys. This Rasta guy named Nambo. Partying with an 81 year old Trinidadian woman until three in the morning. A crazy golf cart bandit named Jim. Ridiculous. However. I have to wait until Erica loads all of the photos for me to do a proper entry on the vacation, so until then, let me tell you about a new show I discovered.Now, I have always loved an infomercial. I have actually purchased items from infomercials. I think I may be part of the infomercial target audience.

I can almost recite the entire Ronco "Set it and forget it" Showtime Rotisserie informercial. And every time I watch it I love it. (I have watched it a lot.) I love Ron Popeil. And, who doesn't? He's so enthusiastic. And the audience! They are so amazed by the insane bargain they'd be receiving if they bought the Showtime Rotisserie within the next thirty minutes. What with the elastic roasting ties, shish kebob skewers and the ever popular (and necessary) heavy-duty, napalm-proof roasting gloves, they should be paying double. No! Triple! Those gloves are made of a substance that, upon inspection from bed at four in the morning, seems to be plastic or rubber -- both meltable materials -- but if Ron's sending them to me with his Showtime Rotisserie, certainly they're made of some NASA approved stuff that is so hi-tech, he's insane for even letting the public know about them.

I actually never bought any of Mr. Popeil's items. Unless he had something to do with the Chia Pet Mr. T, but I think that's a different company.I did buy the Darrin's Dance Grooves when my old roommate and dear, dear friend HeatherJeanne and I were in the height of our Brittany obsession. When we weren't practicing our moves from West Side Story (we choreographed this ourselves), we were learning the steps to the "Crazy" and "Bye Bye Bye" videos.

Anyway. Back to Shop Erotic. Last night when Erica and I got home from Nevis and the most spectacular vacation ever, I was flipping channels when I spotted information on a show that was showing at 3:00 and then again at 3:30AM on Oxygen. The name was there and the info on it was:

The best Home Shopping for all your romance needs - hand picked products, satisfaction guaranteed, discrete billing and shipping.

Seriously? Record please. Entire series.

I hit the, "Yes, I'm sure," button and checked in again this afternoon between watching the most recent episode of Weeds and the Snapped! marathon. Turns out, this informercial is presented, not in Ron Popeil fashion, but as if it were the Home Shopping Network or QVC. The same basic screen design -- pricing and information in an opaque box on the left of the screen, a box to the right that either features the woman selling the items (dildos) or the items themselves (dildos). Then there's a banner at the bottom of the screen with the phone numbers and the logos for the credit cards they accept. (Visa, MC, AMEX & Discover! Nobody accepts Discover.)

The show started with Miyoko, a lovely Asian woman who is dressed in a frumpy grey sweater and wearing glasses, though in that "When i pull this frumpy sweater and glasses off, I am going to tap that ass" kind of way. She starts the show off bt assuring us, the viewers, that we were very safe calling these numbers. In fact, there is a special phone line dedicated to women only so that they won't be skeeved out by calling some guy in the middle of the night and handing over their credit card information to buy a special Jack Rabbit vibrating/rotating dildo or even just your run of the mill dong with suction cup.

Then they go to a two-shot of Miyoko and a very innocent looking blonde woman (she calls the dildos "massagers") who agrees that for some people ("Not us, Miyoko.") it would be awkward ordering sex toys over the phone at 4 AM while your kids are asleep between their Spongebob SquarePants sheets in the next room. But for us, the viewers, (she says) we can feel comfortable and at ease because they have segregated the phone lines in order to make us feel okay about all of this. We can rest assured knowing that we will be speaking exclusively to a woman when we request our sex harness and ball gag.

Plus! There are gifts! With every purchase of the 6 1/2"" rubber vibrating dong you get a bottle of fancy lube. "Perfect for playing with toys, or by yourself." I wondered if this were a Freudian slip on her part and she was supposed to say boys instead of toys. Perhaps Miyoko is a lesbian. She does get into the politics of sex toys -- in a lot of places you can't even buy a waterproof/battery-operated dildo that is ergonomically designed to fit perfectly in the palm of your hand.

Miyoko: You know. Sometimes, we do get a little tired wrist or you know, the forearm does get a little tired.
Innocent Blonde: Or you have to reach ...

Cuddle, anyone?

So, a few years ago I was walking down Third Avenue on my way to work on the Upper East Side. A guy with a microphone and a camera crew approached me.

Excuse me, would you mind being interviewed for a moment?

Being shy and uncomfortable with attention, I flipped my hair and asked, "How's my makeup?"

Fine.

An assistant had me sign a waiver and then, on camera, the guy asked me if I had ever heard of a "Cuddle Party". I said that I had a cuddle party every morning.

Erica and I had just gotten Chulo at that time and every morning we'd have "Family Cuddle Time" with him. We'd set the alarm early so that we could do it. It was part of Chulo's recovery from his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that he had from his time spent homeless in Queens.

Would you ever cuddle with strangers?

I don't know. Maybe. If the timing was right.

There is an official Cuddle Party this afternoon. I'm going, would you come with me?

Absolutely. What time?

I took a lunch break that day and walked over to the Cuddle Party address. I got there and paced on the sidewalk for a few minutes. "Am I really about to do this? The interview guy seemed nice enough. What show did he say this was for? He promised that it was all very innocent and safe. Ok. I'll go. God. Am I really going? Yes. Go! Get up there before Interview Guy sees you pacing out here."

So I ring the buzzer.

Hello?

Hi. I'm here for the, um, Cuddle Party?

Buzzzzzzzzz.

The door unlocks and I make my way up to the third floor. I turn the corner and there they are. All four of them. In their pajamas. Three guys, one girl. The girl appeared to be making hummus. I looked inside for Interview Guy and the camera crew. Nothing.

Hey! Come on in! (Says the creepiest guy of them all.)

Uh. Is Interview Guy here? I was supposed to meet him.

No, not yet, come on in, he should be here soon.

Oh. That's okay. I'll wait for him out front.

Obviously, I ran. And I went at least five blocks out of my way to avoid Interview Guy and his camera crew.

Flash forward to today.

Today I stayed at home to get ready for our trip and on my breaks from washing sheets or writing dog instructions, some of my friends and I have been emailing each other increasingly ridiculous YouTube clips. In response to one, my friend Sparky sent this:Which reminded me of the Cuddle Party incident. So, I Googled. And, not only did I find the official Cuddle Party website, I found the show Interview Guy was from -- and the episode that he interviewed me for.I haven't watched it because:
1. I don't think I made the cut since I chickened out and ran away.
2. If I did make the cut, I would be horrified.

PS. The guy in the blue shirt is the one who answered the door. And yes, I believe those are chickens on his pants.

My New BFF

So.

This morning I'm walking Chulo -- it's my week. That's the system. Erica does a week, I do a week. If it's your week you are in charge of feeding and walking Chulo every morning before work.

Erica actually has some system where she makes sure she is occupied downstairs in the bathroom until Chulo has become so frantic with starvation that I give in and feed him. So her week she just walks him. And frequently she will pull a whiny, "Will you walk him this morning? Puh-lease." Erica is a lazy dog owner. But, she's a good runner. As in errand runner. So, I let her get away with it. (Though I very rarely fall for that puh-lease crap.)So. I'm walking Chulo on the usual route this morning and I see a little gathering of pigeons on the sidewalk. Then I realize that they're there because food is being thrown down to them from the third floor window of this building. Naturally I look up.

Guess who.

Mr. Bud in a bag.

No. Really. I swear.

He loves dogs and pigeons. So this man, who I run into at the shelter is not only a Budweiser lover, he's an animal lover too? People, my heart just pure swole up with love for this man.

As I looked up and saw him there in all his morning hair, bare-chested, hands full of crackers, leaning out of his window glory. Our eyes met and gave me a huge smile. And he yelled down something ... about the birds I think, or maybe it was about Chulo. Who knows? It's hard enough to decipher what he's saying when we're face to face on the street. From three stories up, it's impossible. But I think he remembered me this time and I think he might love me too.

I know he tried to hide his Bud from me on our first date, but things are moving so quickly. I think the next drink's gonna have to be on me.