U.S. unemployment rate hits new high.

Super special food combos that amp the nutrition.

Who got the American Idol wild card?

Chris Brown pushes real life back to April.

Pepsi…natural?

Paris Hilton gets Lauren Conrad’s sloppy seconds. Seriously, sloppy.

If someone circled my fat, I’d kill them.

Louis Vuitton doesn’t want his goods in crappy music videos.

Canada loves Joshua Jackson.

New uses for your toiletries.

Amy Winehouse looking….good?!

Vince Vaughn engaged?! <Heart Shatters.>

[Photo courtesy of NYTimes.] 

According to a recent article in the New York Times, sales of high-priced pleasure toys have been on the up and up since the economy tanked last year. Bank accounts may be dwindling, but women are finding a way to indulge in personal pleasure.

This comes as no surprise to me, as I always turn to intimacy (most recently with myself) in times of stress or hardship. Sure, I have to be a little more thrifty with my cash, but that only means I need to be more deliberate about where and how I spend it.

Do I need that Starbucks? No.

Do I need a release after a long day of classes? You betcha.

Is a vibrator a better investment than, I don’t know, weed? Yes, yes, ohmygod YES.

Some women work out when they get stressed. Some shop.

It seems that most, however, are choosing to stay home and have some mind-blowing “stress relief” on their own.

Someone up above must hate me, because Heidi Montag released another terrible song. Perhaps this is what the U.S. Military is using in their latest foray into alternative forms of torture.

Don Imus seems to be back to his old ways. Shocking.

A lot of little children (and some really awesome college students…not me…ok, maybe me) spent their Friday evening at home with the Jonas Brothers.

The perfect breakfast for the morning after a late night summer Beer-B-Q.

To make money, or to make a difference; that is the question for many college grads.

Is your brain gay?

Some guys just can’t quite distinguish between fact and a cartoon from the early 90′s.

[Photo courtesy of the one and only, Perez Hilton.]

Imagine my surprise, then, when I was surfing the Times today looking for some good opinion pieces when I found an article titled Friends with Benefits, and Stress Too.

At first I thought it was a joke. I mean, I know the Times is a liberal publication, but even they wouldn’t discuss the not-so-easy to explain situation we like to call Friends with Benefits.

Turns out, it was no joke. In fact, it was about a study conducted at Michigan State University where students were polled about their experiences with friends with benefits.

For anyone in college, the findings were nothing spectacular.

Basically, friends with benefits work for some, progress into a relationship for others and cause the rest to have a giant blow up fight because one person likes the other more and thought they had something special and meanwhile the other person is off hooking up with other people and stomping on their “friend’s” heart.

The only interesting thing to come from this, in fact, is the phone call I received from my mother this afternoon after she too was perusing the Times looking for opinion pieces and came across the article:

Mom: Lauren, honey, do you have any friends with benefits?

Me: Um. Excuse me? Mom, I am at work!

Mom: Sorry, but I’m reading this article and it sounds like you might be one of these people. I see you with your guy friends. Are you benefiting? Because in the end I really think they are only going to hurt you!

Me: Why would they hurt me? Why can’t I be the heartbreaker?

Mom: Oh, honey. Everyone knows how quickly you fall for people and start planning the wedding. But that’s not the point. Are you having sex with your friends? You know they won’t buy the cow when they get the milk for free.

Me: I cannot believe you just said that. And, no, I am not having sex with my friends.

Mom: Ok. Just checking. This is so interesting. We didn’t have this when I was young. I just had your father. What do I call him? My husband with benefits?

Yes. That is exactly when I hung up.

I never really thought I would discuss friends with benefits (or as the Times refers to it, F.W.B.) with my mother. Nor did I ever want to. Hopefully the Times will learn its place in this world and stick to the real reporting instead of enlightening my mother to the ways of college life.

But to actually be in a beauty pageant? Nooo, but thank you.

The NYTimes reports that these contests are much more superficial than you think, and that’s not saying a whole lot. It turns out that many of these girls are duped into thinking they’re gonna win a ton of money and scholarships of some sort, but they never reap the educational or financial benefits.

Ashley Wood, a pissed-off ex Miss USA who never got the money she actually won, said,

“You are talking about an organization that is promoting itself as the largest scholarship provider for women in the world….When contestants try to collect their funds, they encounter one obstacle after another.”

These problems have something to do with all of the local and state pageants that are scattered around the country being tied under the national pageants, and apparently, local pageant winners hardly ever collect – the states could take these local pageants to court, but they have limited control over them in the first place, and to even do that would cost more than what these girls are actually owed.

One girl was even told after winning a pageant that instead of the scholarship she was promised, she could just take home some gowns!! Are you kidding me?

Like this makes up for a big wad of CASH?

These things are a crock, and even though I’d be pissed as hell if I got all dolled up and walked across a stage 50 times wearing Vaseline on my teeth to score fame, recognition, money, a scholarship, whatever, these girls have it coming.

I mean, come on – they’re not the brightest bulbs to begin with, this we know.

The tragedy?

In America’s theme of rewarding stupid people, that same girl who wants to “help the Iraq” is reportedly now in talks to make $25,000 a day with Trump’s modeling company. Good luck with that, you really deserve it.

In related beauty pageant news, Rachel Smith (you know, the girl who tripped on stage – wanna see it again?) said, in regards to what she wants to do with her Miss USA title at the Women in Entertainment Empowerment Network event last week,

“I always wanted to be a reporter — maybe some TV. Who knows? Some serious news — but some modeling, too….I just don’t want to end up like Katie Couric. I want people to take me seriously.”

WOW. Yes, now everyone will be sure to take you seriously. Not ending up like Katie Couric is the least of your worries.

These girls keep getting more and more annoying every time one of them pops up in the news, so it kind of makes me glad that the winners of the smaller, more local pageants aren’t getting paid. Maybe it will discourage them from entering the national contests. That way we can save ourselves from hearing about such naive and disillusioned takes on the world.

I weep for the future.

Sex sells. We all know that.

Otherwise, the porn industry wouldn’t be so profitable and I wouldn’t consider hooking myself out sometimes because I’m so poor (kidding!).But as TV and the Internet merge into one, the porn industry is thinking of taking it live… straight to your hotel room.

Eventually, you could trade in your $9.99 pre-recorded porn Pay-Per-View movie for the real deal. Albeit, the real deal as it happens live from somewhere else, not in your hotel room bed.

Gregory Clayman, owner of Video Secrets a live-action company, told the New York Times that “live, right now, is coming of age.”

And with about one-third of America’s On-Demand and Pay-Per-View movies (which are profiting $1.6 billion a year) being adult films, I guess the question is why not?

Some web companies already allow the viewer to direct the action of the porn through text messages sent directly to the performers. And with the popularity of web cams, porn and live action sex already taking place on the internet, its just a matter of time before live is not just for Regis and Kelly.

Move over morning television, live porn is on its way.

I have a special place in my heart for terrible teen television. The O.C., Degrassi, Instant Star, South of Nowhere, Dawson’s Creek: I just can’t get enough of it. The cheesy acting, the terrible love dramas, the catty bitch fights. I LOVE IT.

Which is why I am pumped for my newest terrible teen television drama Gossip Girl. Being an angsty teen is hard enough but when you’re rich, pretty and living on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, life is so bad it’s good. I’m pretty sure I watched the trailer five times because I was THAT excited.

There have been reviews. The New York Times profiled the show while five real UES Manhattan girls watched the first episode. And a few have even written that Gossip Girl is nothing to gossip about. But this is no Arrested Development, people. This is bad television.

The acting is sub par and the plotline monotonous (teens drinking and doing it… not anything new), but this time instead of sunny California it’s New York City.

And a location change is enough for me to be interested. It’s new! It’s fresh! It’s probably awful and I love it.

If aren’t privy to the line up of events, here’s a quick rundown:

Serena van der Woodsen has just returned from a year at boarding school. No one knows why she left, and no one knows why she’s back. But the website Gossip Girl, which chronicles the latest happenings among these UES yuppie teens, has spotted her in Grand Central.

What follows is a tumultuous turn of events. Serena’s ex-BFF Blair is trying to do it with her boyfriend Nate because Serena is back in town. Apparently, Nate cheated on Blair with Serena. Oh, snap.

Blair’s big party, Kiss on the Lips, is happening and Serena isn’t invited. Instead she opts to hang with geeky boy Dan (the luscious Penn Badgly) instead.

Dan’s little sister Jenny snagged an invite to the party because she MADE the invites. Poor darling. She’s trying so hard to be a part of the in crowd. At the party bad-boy drunk Chuck almost rapes her. Good thing there are cells, and 911 texts because Dan and Serena come to save the day.

And then they hold hands. They HOLD HANDS.

Juicy!

So I’ve pretty much seen the entire first episode from the five minute trailer, but if you aren’t convinced enough to want to a part of the in crowd tonight at 9, I’ll give you one more good reason:

The clothes.

Rich girls have great clothes, and Gossip Girl is no exception.

Prepare to have your heart broken: “As she put him into his cage for the night last Thursday, Dr. Pepperberg said, Alex looked at her and said: “You be good, see you tomorrow. I love you.” He was found dead in his cage the next morning…” (New York Times)

Does every art teacher have to be a hippie? I mean, c’mon! That’s like saying all female gym teachers are lesbians… (Chicago Tribune)

What if universities called your house every time you missed class? What if they called your entire school? For some reason I don’t think my mom would have done what these moms did. (tampabays10.com)

$160 = a 5-year supply of Ben and Jerry’s. You just have to find a criminal. Wasn’t this a Nancy Drew book? (local6.com)

Just in case you’re like, the one person who doesn’t check PerezHilton everyday and haven’t seen his own ads on his own site, his show is on tonight. So, you might as well watch so you know what the hell he’s going to be talking about all day tomorrow. (VH1.com)

Not surprising that this is going on all the time, since Craigslist is free, available to everyone 24/7, immensely popular, constantly changing up its listings and crawling with creepy people.

Becoming a hooker is getting easier, thanks to growing technology and the Internet and the fact that hookers are learning how to use it. Hookers are getting smarter! Noooo!

The NY Times reports 70 prostitution arrests in one town alone over the past year, (Nassau County is freaky!) and the story of eight women who traveled to Nassau from all over the country to make some money the hard way. Literally.

Here’s a recent interview with the College Callgirl herself, and it’s pretty interesting. Some highlights:

How often do you use Craigslist to find clients?

I posted ads in the Erotic Services several times a week. My first ad was something like “College girl needs rent help.” I basically said I wasn’t a pro and I wasn’t a supermodel—just a cute, regular girl willing to utilize her talents in exchange for a donation to her “college fund.” Most of those ads [up there] are escort agencies, so I got tons of responses. I’ve also used it as a sex delivery service when I was looking to fulfill a specific fantasy or just too lazy to leave the house.

Would you have gotten into prostitution without Craigslist?

No chance. I don’t have the body for a high-end escort service or at least wouldn’t have had the confidence to approach one. Craigslist just made it so easy.

She also goes on to mention digital pimps, which are always fun.

So, I decided to do a little research and see if I could find some of these skeevy Craigslist ads that hint to sex and money and getting money for sex. New York was too obvious, so I picked an obscure city. (St. Paul Minnesota is freaky, too!) I kid you not, the first post I clicked on said this:

“I am NOT a Golddigger but money is scarce lately so I am looking for someone who has no problem paying when we go out to do things. Plus if you want to buy things or pay some bills that is a nice bonus but not a necessity my any means.

So if you are CHEAP then please don’t contact me.

Again, I am not a Golddigger and not looking for a Sugar Daddy.”

Haha!

I ain’t sayin’ I’m a golddigger, but if you wanna give me money for dating you and having sex with you, that’s totally cool.

And just for the hell of it, I ventured into the fabulous and always entertaining “casual encounters” of Craigslist and found a winner.

“I am looking for a woman or couple who will get into prostate milking.” m4mw – 47

Isn’t the Internet wonderful? So many possibilities out there…

According to “Sunday Styles”, one of my favorite parts of the New York Times, celebrities are turning to matchmakers to set them up with normal people. I mean, does anybody really want to be in a TomKat relationship, or even have America calling you and you significant other some equally shitty name like Bennifer?

So single celebs are increasingly turning to matchmakers like Samantha Daniels to expand their dating possibilities outside the realm of the red carpet. Good thing stars are swimming in the dough because top matchmakers come with a steep price tag. Daniels, based in New York, charges $25,000 for her services, which include her cell phone number, coaching on dating, etiquette, feedback and access to her database of over 50,000 clients.

Although some celebrities might want to meet normal folk, it’s hard for these stars to even approach us. Some are afraid that the tabloids will write about them, others are surrounded by giggling fans; others attract the inevitable army of Hollywood skanks.

“Having spent a lot of time in California, the caliber of women you get in the Hollywood community—these are models, actresses—they’re airheads, essentially,” one actor said, “If you’re in the mode for a serious relationship, you have to go beyond the airhead.”

As for what these lovelorn celebrities are after? Men tend to look for someone who isn’t a diva, while females are on the prowl for successful entrepreneurs, people who aren’t going to leech their money. What they all want is someone to support them but not steal their thunder. That job description doesn’t sound too bad. Among some of the celebrities that date outside their own kind are Matt Damon, Nicolas Cage, and Nick Cannon.

However, sometimes it doesn’t always work out. One woman, who got set up with some hot young actor, discovered that he would rather stay in his mansion than go out and actually, you know, do stuff. What’s the point of dating a star if he or she can’t get you into the hottest new restaurants? Sure they’re hot, but sometimes a girl has to eat and sometimes she just has to eat at a place that’s impossible to get into.

I would personally be thrilled to sleep with Jon Krasinski, but I would be even more thrilled if we could have post coital Sour Cream Poached Maine Lobster with braised leeks and fennel with lobster soy butter, pickled papaya and cauliflower flan at the Russian Tea Room, not that it’s especially hard to get into, but it’s just so swank looking you know? Plus, they have one fine selection of caviar that I wouldn’t be paying for. You can see that I have this whole affair planned out. Now all I have to do is get in Daniel’s rolodex—unfortunately I don’t think she takes applications. Foiled again!