There are a lot of celebrities out there that simply disappear, whether it be voluntarily or due to lack of talent/rehab/Bermuda triangle.  There are a couple that have massive amounts of issues, yet refuse to disappear.  In fact, they seem to pop up everywhere, strutting around uninvited on every red carpet.  People like Bai Ling and Paris Hilton are prime examples.

More recently, we have Mischa Barton.  I gotta admit, I really do enjoy watching a mediocre TV actress fall from grace (and she fell hard!).  Oh, speaking of mediocre actresses, I think I heard the other day that Tara Reid has teamed up with the douchebag powerhouse that is Christian Audigier to design some piece of crap that I’ll certainly see all around campus.  Yay.

In light of that wonderful piece of news, I think it’s time to pair up a couple of the most washed up faces in Hollywood:  Mischa Barton and Tara Reid. Read More »

My aunt has been addicted to cheap pink wine fore 13 years. When I was a teenager I remember finding a giant bottle tucked away in the fridge near her bathroom. She used to say, “I just like having a glass before bed…it helps me sleep.” But even then I knew there was more to it than that.

This woman I knew as energetic, happy and fun transformed into a mean, foul being who constantly played the blame-game when she explained why she drank. “Your mother and uncle have always been awful to me…they made me this way.” I never loved my husband…he made me this way.”

Listening to her go on and on was not only angering, but utterly draining. I’d leave her house after a visit and feel exhausted by the toxic energy she spewed at me. It was in that last moment, when I pulled out of her driveway, that I decided I’d never set foot in her house again.  Read More »

Throughout my sophomore year at college I’d pretty steadily hooked up with this guy, let’s call him Blake. Despite the fact that we were on good terms and friends outside of the bedroom, our hook ups only occurred when I was drunk. I’d never really wanted things to go any further with him; he was a sweet kid, but really only as a drunk hook up and fun guy to goof off with.

Things ended when he moved out to L.A. after graduation, but we kept in touch online and through Facebook ever since.

So when I clicked on my Facebook event notification and saw that he’d be back in town in a couple months, my first instinct was to accept the invite to the party in his honor.

That is, until I saw the Facebook wall.

One of his buddies, whom I’ve never met in my life, wrote on the wall: “Hey Blake, you should call that Melanie chick. That alcoholic nympho will probably get so excited she’ll bust a clasp on her straight jacket.”

Wow. What?!

Directly following Doucheface’s comment, Blake responded with a nice “hahahaha.”

Shocked, embarrassed and angry, I confronted Blake about the whole thing. He fed me some baloney about his friend “taking stories and blowing them out of proportion” and brushed me off like it was no big deal. I was not amused. I mean, this was not some private issue; my name was being slandered in a very public place. Read More »

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. And in the game of Bad Habits, you will always come out a loser. As I laid in a tanning bed, I thought about how this bad habit was going to affect me in the long run. Even though I love the immediate benefits of this vice (golden, sun-kissed skin!), I can’t help but worry about my future as a leather-skinned freak. Is the bronze skin of today worth the skin cancer of tomorrow? Let’s examine the dangerous games we play and weigh whether the consequences are worth the benefits:

Tanning

Why We Do It: I am addicted to the healthy glow I get from taking a 20 minute nap in my favorite tanning bed! I feel more relaxed, have less acne, and generally feel less self-conscious. When I’m feeling confident, I can stand up straighter, smile bigger, and show off my legs without feeling embarrassed. I feel like confidence enhances my life and I don’t want to go through my heyday without it. Read More »

Here’s a secret: the editors of CollegeCandy are not in college anymore. And we cry about it every day. Seriously. We thought running a site for college girls would help us stay young, but waking up every day and reading about your college lives makes us want to do a keg stand…and then cry in the corner.

When we were still in school (only a short time ago, thankyouverymuch), we took it for granted. The freedom, the endless flow of money into our bank accounts, the drink specials, the endless flow of men up and down the hallways of our dorm… We never appreciated what we had. And now we are in the real world. And it sucks.

We felt it was our duty to remind you how good you have it. Life will never be as awesome as college – you can’t stay home from work because you feel like it, you can’t trip and fall on a cute and available guy, and Thirsty Thursdays no longer exist. So take a moment and think about your favorite thing about college life. Our writers did and here is what they have to say: Read More »

The mustard belt will remain on U.S. soil for another year.

Amy Winehouse seems to be mastering the art of multi-tasking

Ashley Dupre attemps to “drop negativity from her life.” Quite a large task, no?

Doin’ it doggy style? You could be breaking the law.

Fad Diets: First the Cookie Diet, now a McDonalds Diet?!

Venus Williams: the favorite child

You know those mornings. The ones when you and your girlfriends gather from your various places of shacking over lots of water and ibuprofen to remind each other of the hilarity that went down the night before. Amid all of the laughter (and reviewing of pictures….to jog your memory), you suddenly realize just what happened: the worst thing ever. And it was horrible. And it may or may not have been one of these:

5. A lost wallet and/or clutch. This is particularly disturbing because it is usually the first thing that hits you in the morning, well before you’ve had any time to nurse the hangover you earned. It feels very similar to being on a deserted island that smells strongly of vodka and lime. You are cell-less, cutting off contact with the outside world. With credit card whereabouts unknown and no proof of identity, you are left defenseless against fraud. If you are underage, there is the heavy burden of finding a new fake i.d. The brand new lip gloss and powder from MAC that you inevitably JUST bought are gone forever. Worst of all, your dear, loyal, and perfectly fashionable clutch will never be wedged into your armpit for pictures or table dancing ever again. R.I.P. Limited edition Coach Python and Boucle clutch. You will be missed.

4. The guy you went home with. Okay, last night this guy was h-o-t! He was witty and charming and so attentive to your needs; not once did he let you have an empty glass! Whether you met him at the pre-party, the bar, or on the way home (never a good sign), this dude – who seemed like a great idea at the time – is now nothing more than a big (or worse, tiny) mistake. Often, this error in judgment will use trickery and promises of rides on his family’s yacht to get you home with him, but come morning all he can offer is a ride home…if you’re lucky. High-tail it out of there and head to the nearest health clinic to make sure all he has given you is a bad memory. Read More »

I’ve had my share of eccentric travel companions, but none can top my alcoholic ex-boyfriend. On our trip to Italy, his antics epitomized the disgusting reasons why we are called Ugly Americans. The list below clearly catalogs ten reasons I now choose my travel companions wisely.

Our trip to Italy began as most do: pleasantly, in romantic Rome. We had been dating for nearly a year and, for two months leading up to the trip, he quit drinking and limited his smoking! I was feeling optimistic. We spent the day walking to all the major sites in Rome except for the Sistine Chapel, which we agreed would be a nice culmination of our travels and saved for the end of our trip.

Reason #1: A Peroni in Florence

Walking along the main promenade our first evening in fiery “Firenze,” he was hungry and stopped by a pizza joint, ordering pizza and a Peroni. “I can’t travel in Italy and not drink at least one Peroni,” he insisted. He was hungover the next morning, and we were an hour late to our reserved date at the Uffizi.

Reason #2: A Moretti in Venice

We arrived in the maze that is Venice by train. Claiming he was hot and in need of a refreshment, he ordered a Moretti at a nearby café. Then, upon arriving at our hotel, he continued to drink at the nearby bar while I showered. Four beers later and much to my embarrassment, he jumped off a bridge into the contaminated channel. A passing resident scolded him and a fight nearly ensued. For the remainder of our stay, he was on a quest to find the highest bridge from which to jump. Due to a “mysterious” ear infection, he ultimately decided against it. Read More »

At this point, as I’m sitting here on my couch, nearing the end of day 4 without drinking, I am starting to really believe that I may not be an alcoholic. Granted, I am sitting here eyeing the beer that is in my roomie’s hand. My other roomie, who is on this mission with me, is undoubtedly eyeing it, too.

I spend most Sundays, and yes, even EASTER, entirely preoccupied with a predictable hang over. I lay around in my bed with multiple glasses of water. I check Myspace religiously and later feel accomplished when I gather the strength to order in food.

Today, clearly, was different. I woke up and started to get sh*t done! The trouble, however, even amidst my productivity, was the fact that today was Easter. Something about religious holidays, particularly those on which I typically participate in a family gathering of some sort, tend to make me want to drink. You see, I come from an Irish family. I hope that that says enough. Read More »

I do not think I’m an alcoholic. I do, however, feel like I’ve racked myself up some pretty reliable points for drinking frequently, and usually for free, in New York City.

I’m in a band. And all of my friends are in bands. You know what that means? It means shows…which means drinks. And my friends who aren‘t musicians, who work in offices, tend to like to buy me rounds at Happy Hour time–which usually precedes one of those aforementioned shows.

These factors combined with my sometimes modeling and myopenbar.com lead to a steady intake of alcohol on my part. And REALLY, I am okay with this.

However, I woke up today feeling especially hung over. My stomach felt like I imagine it would if it were working diligently to digest batteries. My makeup was caked across my pillowcase and the volume of god knows what kind of dirt under my nails made me afraid to look in the mirror. It was just another, typical night out on the town for me last night. Wine and beer and whiskey and martinis. Lost cash. Expensive cab rides. Shameful drunk snacking back at my apartment and finally the relief of passing out, but ONLY after an embarrassing drunk dial and even more embarrassing emotional drunk IM.

I woke up this morning and I challenged myself out loud to my roommate.

“You know what, dude? I’m gonna take the next week off from drinking.”

She laughed. Read More »