With all the crazy diet fads, weight loss pills and general hysteria over how to shed extra weight, it’s no surprise when another completely ridiculous tactic comes out.

And I’m not talking “only eat bacon” ridiculous.

Allow me to introduce you to Dr. Nikolas Chugay’s mesh patch. When sewn onto the tongue it becomes so painful to eat, that you just can’t. That’s right this doctor from California who has a PhD in medicine is going to make it so painful for you to eat that you won’t have any other option but to stick to a liquid diet.

Ten women have already done it and – surprise, surprise – some have lost up to 20 pounds. (Really, if you don’t eat any solid food, you’ll lose weight? Who knew!)

Now if this guy has actually found women desperate enough to inflict physical pain on themselves to lose their muffin top, I think the world of medicine is ready to radically expand. Can you imagine how much money can be made inventing other completely unreasonable ways for women to keep their stomachs empty?

I have a couple of ideas already. Read More »

[Every once in a while, we have to go something that blows. Something we’re not prepared for. Something, that at least, makes a good story…]

I walked around my apartment, touching things, pulling my blankets tighter around my bed, staring at the window, and then eventually sitting down on my couch. The TV was playing in the background, Olympic synchronized diving, and I tried to concentrate on what was happening on the screen, but besides a few thoughts about how synchronized diving is an odd sport and how did it get into the Olympics? — I couldn’t keep my head clear.

In a little less than a week, I’ll find myself lying on a hospital bed, hooked up to beeping machines, and wheeled by a bunch of masked people I don’t know into an operating room. The surgery is either simple or complicated — nobody can seem to decide — and all that’s clear is that there’s something foreign that needs to stop renting space on my 9th rib. I’ve been thinking about the surgery for a few hand-wrung weeks, and the closer it is to happening, the fuller my brain gets with every. possible. horrible scenario. Read More »

[Every once in a while, we have to go something that blows. Something we’re not prepared for. Something, that at least, makes a good story…]

I took my off clothes slowly, placing them in the plastic hospital bag and eyeing the hospital johnny with intense trepidation. Intense, fearful, trepidation. I was in the hospital for a biopsy – a biopsy that had been scheduled the day before – so there really hadn’t been any time to prepare for what was about to happen. And when it comes to hospitals, I need to prepare.

After clothing myself in a paper thin gown and crawling underneath a paper thin blanket, I made small talk with a nurse as she prepared vials for the blood she was about to take, and an IV she was about to shove into my arm. Apparently, when you get a biopsy of something hanging around your rib, lots of things are included; vials of your blood, IVs, a few needles of Novocain, “conscious sedation”, and some kind of giant, hand-cranked needle to do the actual biopsying.

The hand-cranked needle was the thing I was least happy about.

I sat underneath the blanket and wiggled my feet, squinting as the nurse flicked the inside of my elbow, the same place that had been flicked only a few days before, and squinted even more as she stuck the needle in. “Looks like someone already got you right here!” she said cheerily, and I nodded as I bit my tongue, wondering if she knew how painful it was to puncture an already bruised patch of skin.

Once the IV was taped securely to my arm, I began the always taxing process of sitting and waiting. People in scrubs padded in and out of the room, my parents stood over the bed and made some strange jokes, and my nurse checked my blood pressure, pulse, and asked me thousands of questions – including if I was in “spiritual distress” (a question I considered answering yes to, because, isn’t every twenty-something in spiritual distress?). Read More »

Shia LaBeouf, the adorable movie star who used to seem so sweet and cute, apparently made a promise to himself to become just another one of those a**hole actors by breaking a bunch of laws in recent months. Early this morning (Sunday, July 27th), LaBeouf pushed his a**shole act up a notch by flipping his car on “the corner of Fountain and La Brea” in Hollywood and smashing up his hand bad enough to go into surgery shortly after. As soon as he got to the hospital, LaBeouf was arrested and charged with DUI.

Updates will no doubt come in as the day wears on, but as we all wait for those updates to happen, we here at CC are going to make our own promise to ourselves: no more fantasies involving actors who are lame enough to think that driving while intoxicated is a great way to get around.

Grieving the loss of a relationship is painful; but not as painful as grieving the loss of a whole family.

The hardest part of ending my last relationship was the fact that I had to end my relationship with my ex’s parents and sister. After two and a half years of dating someone, you tend to grow close to the people they’re close to. So, when you stop talking to the person you were dating, you’re forced to break up with their whole family as well (except you usually don’t have any hard feelings against the family members). And just like that, they’re gone from your life.

My ex-bf had (and still has, I suppose) an amazing family. The Martins were the types of people who would do anything for you. Because they lived near my college town, I spent a lot of time with them and they became my second family. Throughout the ex’s billions of hockey injuries, surgeries, and hospital visits, I was there like one of them, sitting in waiting rooms and trying to lessen his pain and make him feel better.

They let me use their car to come back and fourth from campus to their house and later from Boston to their house. His mom would call me at work and ask me to check up on him. They cooked me dinner and asked me to help. We all watched American Idol together. I shared fashion tips with his ultra-stylish 13-year-old sister. Read More »

If you think Brazilian bikini waxes are a little too intimate, brace yourself—-below the belt grooming is about to get a lot more personal.

Thanks to the J.Lo-inspired era of backside obsession, I’ll admit I’ve certainly been paying more attention to how I fill out my jeans. But according to Marie Claire, there are women who really get up close and personal with their rear ends—and they don’t like what they see.

So, what’s a gal to do when she’s plagued with an imperfect backside? Anal bleaching of course!

The cheeks on your face aren’t the only ones that need color, apparently. Women are now looking to get that rosy glow on a part of the body that, up until now, remained untouched by cosmetic enhancement—-the anus.

Lucky for us, our anal imperfections can be fixed in a simple trip to the salon to pick up an at-home bleaching kit.

It doesn’t end at the anus. Next time you’re having your dermatologist erase any evidence that you may have smiled or frowned at some point in your life, ask the doc about bum Botoxing. An alternative to exercise and cellulite creams, there’s no faster way to get your butt swimsuit-ready than dropping your pants and injecting it with poison! Read More »