Boobie Milk:
Apparently the medical community feels women are so stupid they need to pop sugar pills for seven bloody days to remind themselves to take the real pills for the other three weeks. My body was going through estrogen shock. I was walking down the street, minding my own business, when I happened to catch a few boys pointing and laughing in my direction. I looked down and, well, it looked as if someone had taken a water gun, aimed and shot perfectly at my nipples. I was lactating! I ran into a Burger King bathroom and put my tits under the dryer, but rather than dry my shirt, the machine only made the spots look crustier and more discolored. I spent the rest of the afternoon with my arms folded.

All-Chokes Barred: Lessons Learned From Reality TV:
1. You're not allowed to choke your opponent but dry-humping is okay. We all know Helen should have won "Survivor: Thailand" but at least Clay, who makes "The President" seem eloquent and culturally sensitive, got beaten by the sleazy car salesman.

2. Eliminate the useless strategy games and trickery (although we would have loved to vote off Bobby Trendy), do away with silly career plotlines and simply focus on what's important: Donut Holes. As far as reality shows go, Anna Nicole Smith was a bit of a bore. Bubbling beneath all the mindless chatter and pink-hued decorating drama, though, was poor, underappreciated Kimmy's tortured, one-sided love affair with her big-bosomed boss.

3. Liza Minelli - Drugs + Alcohol ÷ Demanding Gay Husband = Pure Entertainment Squandered. O, Liza, what hast thou bequeathed us? We waited patiently for you and your gorgeous wife to save us from Anna Nicole's incessant on-camera coos and slurred sexual innuendos. But, alas, the show that could have saved VH-1 from Movies That Certainly Don't Rock was sabotaged by dear David.

(G)low Standards:
J. Lo keeps saying in interviews that she is a perfectionist. I ask you: What are her standards of perfection?

Baby's Mamas have stopped calling but Live-In Girlfriends haven't:
How is it that the one day of the year you've done absolutely nothing to merit a lousy text message, that's when you happen to get one? You hear your two-way summoning you and, eager as a beaver, you skip hurriedly toward it, freshly-styled locks of luxurious hair flowing behind you. Lo and behold, it's your ex-man's ex-girl, the Boriqua Banshee:
She gets cut off. Her evening scarce with plans, the Boriqua Banshee apparently had ample time to conjure up images of her muse and ask, "What would Trina do?"

So, I decided to play the game.

I called the number included in the message and left the Banshee a voice-mail filled with expletive upon expletive. And like an old friend, she returned my call right away. I instantly began screaming, questioning this poor specimen of a female's audacity to continually contact me. What divine power forces her to apologize each time? What sadistic supernatural being then compels her to repeat the process of contacting me, engage a long, drawn out conversation where, in the end, she realizes she's wrong, apologizes and then starts all over again?

Oh, Boriqua Banshee, aren't you tired? 'Cause I sure am!

It disgusts me to see women giving head to their own green-eyed monsters. If that blond strand of hair on his sheets is not yours…if you catch a glimpse of his phone bill (or if you happen to find it torn to shreds in his wastebasket and have a knack for piecing things together) and that 4am-er wasn't you…or if that last minute errand has him coming back reeking of Glow by J. Lo, then you've caught him. But don't go calling the peroxide-dependent odoriferous Nextel owner up. She may not know that he's currently attached (and if she does: what goes around comes around!).

Sawyer Vs. Houston:
We all watched it. We all taped it. And on those lonely, cold nights when we start feeling sorry for ourselves, we will all pop it in the VCR and watch it again. "Crack is cheap," she said. " I make too much for me to ever smoke crack." A week later Whitney performed for Good Morning America, breaking out into an impromptu full-length rendition of "Jesus Loves Me" in the middle of a follow-up interview with Diane Sawyer. Good times.

Searching for Panties:
Last December, the top Search Engine Keyword that lead readers to our little casa de amor was "fat girl." This year it was a three-way race between "panties," "no panties" and "no bra." On a related note: "boys in bras" finished a distant 85th. If that ain't racy enough for ya, here is my Top 20 Keywords That Sent You To Us:

1. feel my breath on your neck
2. face sitting
3. audition for gay porn movie
4. used panties
5. shit panties
6. selma blair panties
7. selma blair naked
8. selma blair nigger
9. angela lansbury childreach
10. enema across lap
11. children with santa clause
12. christmas gay
13. snl maya rudolph donatella versace have hot fuck sexy sex
14. whitney houston career suicide
15. kelly ripa effect
16. winona ryder fellatio
17. stupid nicole kidman
18. how to twirl a drum stick
19. senile old couple pictures
20. bestfemalemasturbationscene

West-siiiiiiiiiiide!:
My new boss is from California. She's blonde. And she simultaneously laughs and talks when she hands out dreadful assignments. I want to slap her and her fake laughter straight back to the West Coast. At least in New York we are real when we're nice. None of this fake shit.
(Taxi honking.)
FUCK YOU!

Alexa Camp
© slant magazine, 2002.

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