Posts By Michelle COLLINS

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BeaWE.tv’s Top 10 Favorite Bea Arthur Moments

HOT LIKE BEA ARTHUR 3.jpg This weekend, tragedy befell a nation, as news broke on Saturday that legendary actress and comedian of stage and screen Bea Arthur had passed away at 86. When, years from now, my children will ask “Mom, where were you when Bea passed?”, I’ll tell them of the beautiful spring day, the white wine in Central Park, the picnicking and laughing and, then, the phone call. And the text messages. Indeed, it seemed every gay friend of mine had sent out a phone blast alerting the world that Bea was gone. And, with her goes a comedy legend, beloved by all, a worldly talent who had remained in the spotlight for over 50 years.

So to celebrate one of my many comedic inspirations in life, BeaWE.tv (for today) has compiled our Top 10 Favorite Bea Arthur Moments. (And yes, this list is slightly different from our last Bea Arthur Top 10 list, posted here last year to celebrate her birthday.) If you can guess #1, you probably spend way too much time on the blog. Today, my Golden Girls necklace is a little lonelier.

10. Rock Hudson and Bea sing “Sniff Swig Puff!”. Easily the catchiest and most upbeat song about drug addicts ever sung. Two old alkies just ramblin’ on about weed and pills and poppers and cocaine. The lyrics are simply genius, and also probably written by someone addicted to “horse.”

  

9. The Sex and the City Parody. Would it be wrong to say that Bea makes a prettier Carrie Bradshaw than Sarah Jessica Parker? Consdering we’re still in mourning, no, it isn’t wrong. Also, Mona from Who’s The Boss, Sally Struthers and Mrs. Garrett? Tell me this clip won an Emmy, because seriously, this is to pop culture lovers what unicorn shlongs are to gay wizards.

  

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My Girl Star Reemerges as Kathleen Turner

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“Where are his glyasses? Thomas J can’t see without his gleeesses!”

Above, My Girl star Anna Chlumsy works the red carpet at the Tribeca Film Festival. And it looks like Vada Sultenfuss has come a long way from her “Ode to Ice Cream” days (the poem that will one day be read aloud at my wedding.)

Ahead, another pic of Anna looking more like her younger self:

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While You Were Realizing The Wrestler Was a Bad Choice When You Are In Bed & Sick With Food Poisoning

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  • Reporters have spotted Sam Ronson leaving Lindsay Lohan’s apartment at 6 am. Well helloooo when else are they supposed to drink the blood of local innocents? Daytime? Come on “media”.
  • Jamie Lynn Spears’ baby daddy Casey Aldridge has been badly injured in a car accident, after his truck flipped over on a highway shoulder. Too soon to make some kinda white trash Britney joke, so we’ll just keep it moving…
  • Tyra Banks is planning on testifying at her stalker’s court appearance in New York this week. Good news for the jury, who will be receiving bedazzled tampon holders for being “such a great audience.” (Ed. Note: Bob Barker pic has nothing to do with article, but what a gem.)
  • The Pussycat Dolls are letting their claws out over lead singer Nicole Scherzinger’s “featured” status. Come on Pussycat Dolls… you guys are above this. Yes, even in that crotchless slutty beekeeper’s uniform… you’re above this.
  • Finally, don’t even get me started. Will write about it in more detail later.

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BWE REPORTS: What Do Jamie Foxx, Pepa, and the “Are You Ready to Rumble?” Guy All Have in Common?

JAMIE-FOXX-W-PARTY-3.jpgThe answer? They were all found in New Jersey last night, at the Grand Opening of the W Hotel in Hoboken, New Jersey (yes, Hoboken, as in “Who is Methface Barbie dating these days?”) Hoboken is a surprisingly short train ride away from downtown Manhattan, so after the promise of free drinks and more free drinks, I couldn’t resist Jersey’s undeniable allure. So, dressed in my best black tunic and most expensive flats, my friend Stephen and I ventured INTO ANOTHER STATE (Ed. Note: As a native South Floridian, this concept has always excited me.) for an evening that promised, among other things, a live performance from Jamie Foxx.

Like most W Hotels, the W Hoboken was all class inside and out, even though it was less than 2 blocks away from a Men’s Warehouse (the store, not the underground Long Island gay discoteque.) And it became apparent after entering the beautiful lobby that my friend and I were way underdressed. Sure, black pants and a top wasn’t the worst way to go — but people were dressed to the hilt! Cocktail dresses, European cut suits, Louboutins, hairpieces — people in Jersey were not f**king around. This was frustrating to me, as I have a bevy of gowns lined up in my closet like some sort of transvetite superhero and nary a place to wear them — NARY a place.

My taffeta-inspired frustrations were quickly calmed, however, after sharing a glance with a drop-dead hot male model, clearly paid to stare at average looking women to make them feel wanted. And let me tell you: It worked.

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Within minutes of our arrival, an out of work model in a waitress uniform shoved a drink into my hand, and the night had begun. As with most fancy opening parties, it seemed each area of the hotel was bathed in a warm purple glow, which either made everyone look super sexy or seasick (i.e. super super sexy.) Breathe in deep — smell that? That’s the smell of money, folks, and the air was thick with it’s enticing scent — a mixture of cologne, dry cleaning chemicals, the blood of the poor, and rapey hair gel. Oh, the rapeyness of it all — I’m willing to bet that 8 out of 10 gentleman opted for that American Psycho hair that seems to be all the rage amongst fake-rapey characters. And as proof that its popularity is wearing me down, it didn’t look all that unattractive last night.

Not impressed with all the rape hair? The model forced to sit in a spinning giant martini glass:

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I would have done it for free, smile included. Nothing like speedskating spanx to get the fellas hot and bothered.

AHEAD: Jamie Foxx Raps, Pepa is Spotted, and I Meet the “Are You Ready to Rumble?” Guy!

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Japanese Monkeys Literally Jump The Shark

How close is our society to being overtaken by tiny macaque monkeys? Well, if these jetskiing simians are any indication… too close.

THIS MONKEY KNOWS HOW TO DRIVE A BOAT. — Brian Fellows (probably)

ps Speed 2: Cruise Control with monkeys = adorable.

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…OF THE DAY

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  • DO YOU REMEMBER THE CRIMES: Michael Jackson’s SUV was involved in a hit and run today with an ambulance in LA. Even his own vehicle is trying to get this man help. (NBC LA)
  • GYM CARE-Y: Gwyneth Paltrow has offered close friend and notorious overeater Mario Batali a free membership to her exclusive gym in an effort to get him into shape. And in a headline you will read in about 6 months, Mario Batali has had a heart attack on a pilates machine in Gwyneth Paltrow’s health club. (NY Post)
  • CHEETOH MY GOD: Every fat girl’s dream (read: my own) have finally come true, as the fine people over at the Cheetoh factory have finally done it: THEY HAVE CREATED ONE GIANT CHEETOH. And believe it or not… one man was brave enough to eat it. His description of “The Middle Part” is what My Last Supper will be made out of. (The Fab Life)
  • NO SENSE OF RUMOR: Good news for all you slutty dolphins out there: Michael Phelps claims to not be dating Miss California, and has confirmed his bachelorhood. She probably didn’t have enough rows of teeth to his liking. (Us Magazine)
  • SEE THIS SHOW!: Our by now famous intern Dave Rothstadt will be appearing in a hilarious sketch show called “Wacky Hijinks” both Friday and Saturday night in NYC. See him if only to get the scoop on what Dan and I are “really” like (read: awful people.) No, but really, see this show! (Ovation Tix)