WTF? So you can sleep with Edward??

When I was waiting outside of the Scholastic store in Soho to buy the 7^th Harry Potter book, I saw a reporter from the New York Post who was walking up and down the massive line and interviewing people for a story about the book’s release. I overheard him speaking with one guy who had a lightning bolt scar on his head.

I know what you’re thinking—“All right, it’s kind of odd that an adult man would dress up for the release of a kid’s book, but it’s not totally unheard of. That dude probably wasn’t any weirder than any of the other people in the line.”

Wrong. This nutbar didn’t just draw a lightning bolt on his forehead—as he told the reporter, he had literally carved the scar into his skin with a razor blade.

And to make matters worse, I was ahead of him in line. Yes, I had arrived at the bookstore before the psycho.

So needless to say, I know a thing or two about what happens when fandom gets extreme. Even so, Twihards—people who are obsessed with the Twilight books and movies—take things a step beyond anything I’ve ever seen before. As of Wednesday, at least 2,100 screenings of New Moon, the second movie in the series, were sold out—and those are only the showings measured by MovieTickets.com. There’s also a ton of Twilight merchandise available all over the web, stuff that ranges from normal (t-shirts, posters) to full-on batsh*t crazy (A shower curtain screen-printed with a giant picture of Robert Pattinson’s face. A life size vinyl wall decal of Edward Cullen’s silhouette, accented by the words “Be Safe.” A pair of underwear that’s illustrated with the sexy vamp’s face—inside the crotch).

io9 has a pretty awesome and comprehensive list of these wacky products. But most of the stuff they found comes from Etsy, which means that it’s specially made by individual craftspeople. I find it even more interesting that Hot Topic, the main source for all things Twilight, has almost 200 Twilight-related products for sale on its website. You can buy a duvet cover with Edward’s face on it, or body shimmer designed to make you look just as sparkly as your favorite vampires. You can buy a Twilight New Moon Vampire Girl Cuff, a Volturi Crest necklace, an Edward Charm bracelet (tagline: “Let Edward be the charms around your wrist”), and a Choose Musical Jewelry Box, which plays “Bella’s Lullaby” (whatever that is) and features “a rotating Cullen crest/Wolf tattoo emblem,” to store them in. There’s even Twilight-brand band-aids, for Anne Rice’s sake.

I know that this isn’t exactly an original question, but I have to ask it anyway—what is it about Twilight that makes people go so bonkers that they would actually buy any of this crap? Wouldn’t even superfans be embarrassed to go out in public with an Edward umbrella? Why is Twilight so good at warping people’s—or, to be more specific, girls’—minds and convincing them to spend their money on this kind of garbage? Or that it’s OK to have some guy’s face in the crotch of your undies?!

I get a seriously creepy vibe from all of these products, which matches the feeling I got when I read “Twilight” in an attempt to understand why it’s so popular. I don’t think I’ll ever really get why a story about a girl and the menacing, much-older guy who stalks her is so big. At least Harry Potter has a sense of humor.

Seriously, this is what she looks like 6 weeks after giving birth?!

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Uh. That’s Lady Gaga? Holy crap.

Nice hair, Bart Simpson

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Adam Lambert must tone down the gay.

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Uh, this couple cannot be for real.

Target’s got some super cute winter coats.

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WTF is Whitney Port wearing!?

Mmm. Afterbirth...

I’m all for living an organic lifestyle. There’s simply no reason not to. But I draw the line at smearing birthing excrement on my face.

Gross, I know, but Hollywood is telling me that the new fountain of youth comes from the very beginning of youth itself.  So alert the media: the new craze for the beauty-obsessed is placenta facials.

Just to make sure we’re all clear, placenta is a temporary organ joining the mother and fetus. It transfers oxygen and nutrients from the mother to the fetus, and permits the release of carbon dioxide and waste products from the fetus. But don’t worry, the facial itself is “ordinary-smelling.” Phew, because I smelling like afterbirth and fetal waste is the real problem here.

Although it may be vile, placenta is rich in proteins and zinc, so it can’t be discredited just because it came out of someone’s birth canal.  And it’s not like weirder things haven’t happened.

I blame Victoria Beckham. She told the world she was rubbing bird poop on her face and the next thing you know people are scraping fresh droppings off their windshields and saving it for a nighttime facial treatment. I believe this was at the same time people were using bull’s semen as a leave-in conditioner. That just leaves me wondering how said semen was protracted. All kinds of nasty.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if there is a rash of Placenta Snatchers showing up bedside at the birth of children everywhere, led by none other than Joan Rivers. Protect your placenta, new mothers.

Oh, the things people will do for beauty.

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Evil soccer player is full of regret….

And it’s Lilo’s sloppy seconds. Though, who isn’t?

Tread lightly, Ryan Seacrest.

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Wrong goal. Adorable video.

Today was an unfortunate day. While perusing the internet, I ran across a teaser of Levi Johnston’s Playgirl magazine photo shoot. My curiosity got the best of me, and to say it killed the cat is an understatement. I think “made the cat look at a whole lot of nasty testicles…and then killed it” is more accurate.

I followed the link to Playgirl.com and was immediately overwhelmed by peen. (Note: I am not including the link here to spare your eyes.) Never have I ever seen so many schlongs in my entire life. All shapes, sizes and pube lengths; it was like my eyes were under attack by penis-shaped daggers.

This experience did more than force me to fight my natural gag reflex/delete the browsing history on the university computer I was using in the computer lab; it got me thinking about the presence of Playgirl at all.

Who in their right mind ever thought this magazine (now strictly online, thank god) was a good idea? Seriously. Do you know a single girl with Playgirl magazines hidden under her mattress? Have you ever sat around with your girlfriends and said, “you know, I really enjoy the sight of a good-looking penis from time to time”? (Ok, I take that back. I’ve probably said that once in my life.) Honestly, give me abs, give me back muscles, and give me a great smile, but keep the package under wraps, please.

Let’s be real, ladies; a flaccid penis is not a pretty thing. I don’t know about you, but I do everything short of remaining celibate (because that’s just unfortunate) to avoid the sight of one at all costs in real life – why would I spent $18.99 a month to load up on those images online?

Personally, the longest I’ve ever looked at a male member was in my anatomy book in high school. And I have to admit I once did extensive research on the uncircumcised penis. Fascinating topic, really. But since then, I’ll take a quick peek, assure myself that there is indeed something dangling down there, shut my eyes and then get to business. I certainly do not get my jollies by perusing photo galleries of men in the nude.

You can only stare at a man’s balls for so long before they start resembling your grandpa.

As far as I’m concerned, Title IX does not need to extend this far. Men can keep their Playboy, I’ll be fine over here with my copy of Cosmo.

GQ magazine has unveiled its annual “Men of the Year” list. They have men in every category from Leader of the Year: Obama, to Badass of the Year: Clint Eastwood. While GQ did a comprehensive job of compiling the best men out there (who will all have starring roles in my sexy dreams tonight), it got me to thinking.

What about Best Gay Man of the Year?

It seems like every day I fall in love with yet another unattainable man. There are just so many of them out there showing off their goodness and reminding me that I can’t get a slice. But I love them anyway. So I decided to compile a wishlist of my favorite gays; the best of the best from all corners of the entertainment biz. And no that does not include Dwight from The Real Housewives of Atlanta. (Editor’s Note: Wait, he’s gay?!) That dude may look great in a pair of heels, but he’s got some real ‘tude that I don’t appreciate.

Intelligence:

Anderson Cooper is my personal hero.  An anchor on CNN, author and television personality, he is living my dream. He epitomizes journalism eye-candy and for that I admire him. Although he keeps his personal life private, his recent trip to India with his boyfriend Benjamin Maisani left women’s hearts shattered across America.

Fashion Design:

Just looking at Marc Jacobs makes me giggle. As far as fashion designers go, he definitely tops the charts of the cutest gay men in the industry. Honestly, who can pull off a Spongebob tattoo and the red M&M dude on the same arm? But all of his poor body art choices aside, I would die to sport his threads. That man knows how to create a show-stopping look and if there’s one thing I want (besides a chance to bring Marc back to our team) it’s one of his signature quilted bags.

Humor:

Neil Patrick Harris had me at “Hello, my name’s Doogie.” And he may be gay, but I still chuckle at his womanizing antics on How I Met Your Mother.  What’s not to love, really? He’s cute, he’s funny, he’s sexy, and maybe the only example of a child actor not gone horribly awry in their later life. He has been dating actor David Burtka since 2004 and admire them for being an openly gay couple in Hollywood.

Style:

If anyone is going to publicly humiliate me on television, throw out my entire wardrobe and mock me to my face, it better be Clinton Kelly.  A fashion consultant known for his role on What Not to Wear, Clinton is the only man in my life who could tell me I look fat in these jeans without getting smacked across the face. Partially, because he knows what he’s talking about, and partially because he won’t care if I withhold sex that night.

Adorableness:

Sometimes the only reason I tune in to Oprah is in hopes that Nate Berkus will be giving me design advice. He’s super talented, totally generous, funny and pretty much the sexiest guy alive. If Nate was my interior designer and decorator, I’d have to seriously consider re-doing every single room in my house. He’s just that fun to look at.

Style…again (Come on; gay guys just know their style):

Tim Gunn always has that quizzical eye when he’s looking over designers’ work on Project Runway and he may instill fear in the contestants hearts, but not mine. It’s all love and adoration for Tim Gunn. The man knows what he’s talking about and his presence just commands respect. Plus, there’s something about an older gay man in a suit that just makes me swoon. When he tells you to make it work, you better make it work, or you know you’re screwed.

If only I could find one of these fabulous men wrapped up with a bow under my Christmas tree this December. We would have the best time getting dressed up for New Year’s Eve together.

Hey there, hot stuff.

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Ew, Michael Lohan, EW!