Why hello, soapbox.

Have any of you heard about that new diet drug Alli? I'm sure you've seen it at drug stores - cute packaging, friendly name. While I've never actually tried anything like that (unless you count Slimfast or those those stupid blue pills for water retention everybody took in high school) if I were to take a diet drug, I'd probably gravitate toward something like Alli. (And yes, I totally thought it was pronounced like "Ali". Vanity, they name is McKinney.) After all, it totally wants to be my friend!

You know where this is going, right?

So the way this drug works is that it blocks the absorption of fat. Which means that the fat is forced to go elsewhere. Like out your butt. Remember Olestra? Alli is Olestra in pill form. Which means, in techo-speak, there will be "treatment effects".

Undigested fat cannot be absorbed and passes through the body naturally. The excess fat is not harmful. In fact, you may recognize it in the toilet as something that looks like the oil on top of a pizza.

Oh.

You may get:

gas with oily spotting

loose stools

more frequent stools that may be hard to control

And my favorite:

You may feel an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Until you have a sense of any treatment effects, it's probably a smart idea to wear dark pants, and bring a change of clothes with you to work

They interviewed a woman on NPR who was taking the drug and asked her if she had experienced any of the so-called "effects". She said that indeed she had. "But I had eaten a big plate of nachos that night so it was probably the cheese that did it."

Here's where I climb up on my Mt. Olympus-sized horse: If you are taking a diet drug, why on earth are you eating a BIG PLATE OF NACHOS? Don't get me wrong, I'm Hypocrite Numero Uno when it comes to all things food related but if someone is desperate enough to ingest (highly suspect) pharmaceutical drugs in order to shed a few, perhaps the nachos should wait. Especially when there's a strong possibility that those nachos will lead to anal leakage.

On a vaguely related note, overheard this bit of brilliance on a crowded subway car yesterday -

"You people better keep pushing in 'cause I've got a BIG ASS."

Genius.

A placeholder

Sorry, sorry, sorry... Gots the double-punch of late nights/early mornings kicking my ass again. (I thought the 6 am wake ups were supposed to happen after the kid gets here.) There will be blogging this weekend, both here and here. In the meantime, check this out.

And in a related story, cats tend to be covered in fur!

This from today's Reuter's:

Rich New Yorkers apt to stay, poorer to move: study

NEW YORK (Reuters) - New Yorkers whose annual earnings top $250,000 are among the likeliest to stay in the city, while those who only earn from $40,000 to just under $60,000 are among the most likely to leave, a new study said on Wednesday. Those seeking schools or backyards also tend to move out: 43 percent of the New Yorkers who left had children.

Um, someone needed a study to determine this?

Aside from Britney's tragic turn at the VMAs (caught it on YouTube but could only bear to watch the first few minutes) it's been a slow week here. Still nursing a bad back, still incubating... I did try a new flavor of Haagen-Dazs - Aztec Chocolate - so that was exciting.

In other words, I need a goddamn hobby.

Writing used to work but now that I can't sit OR stand for more than a few minutes at a time (oh my achin' back! oh my achin' legs!) it's tough to eek out more than the occasional blog entry. Still, I gots to get over it. If Chuck Close can do shit like this with a paintbrush in his mouth, I can do something. Right?

Right?

Until I figure what that is, anybody catch this week's Rock of Love? (I'm talking to you, X.) Say what you will about Bret Michaels (please, say what you will!) but sometimes he utters something so priceless, so breathtakingly absurd, it bears repeating. And repeating and repeating. The topic - strippers:

"See, the thing is, you have to deal with what I call "pole emotions". Meaning, how to get them off that pole - and onto my pole."

Bear in mind that this was said with a completely straight face. Now that, friends, is good television.

Mr. J. Timberlake has also been seen shopping around.

I've had celebrities on the brain recently, mostly due to the fact that several of them live down the street. If there was any doubt that my formerly rough-and-tumble Hell's Kitchen 'hood is truly swank, take a walk around the block. I've spotted Orlando Bloom more times than I can count (okay, twice) skulking around my favorite Thai place. (Hopefully he ordered something; you could cut yourself on that jawbone. Seriously, dude is weensy.) La Lohan herself is also rumored to be living around the corner although I doubt I'll catch a peek. (Somehow she doesn't seem like the type to shop at Food Emporium.) A grizzled Andrew McCarthy works out at our second floor gym as does Niles Crane (the surprisingly tall David Hyde Pierce), and our building is home to both Grandma AND Grandpa Huxtable. I figure it's just a matter of time before Brad and his brood move in. I'll keep you posted.

This might only be funny to the actors out there...

So we've all seen this video, right? The one where Miss South Carolina makes a total asshat out of herself on national television? I'll admit that I have a pronounced prejudice against the undereducated and overly tanned so watching this ridiculous, Southern, most-likely-Republican beauty queen go down in flames was a bit of a dream come true.

Then I overheard this conversation between a well-dressed businessman and a cashier at my local Trader Joe's...

Businessman: "You know what they say, 'To thine own self be true'."
Cashier: "Who said that?"
Businessman (sighing heavily): "It was in the Bible."