Melania Trump’s Dress


(photo: Daily Mail)

All that you really need to know about last night is that Melania wore a beautiful dress by London-based Serbian designer Roksanda Ilinic that cost $2,190. It sold out minutes after she gave her campaign speech at the Republican National Convention. Way to go, Melania! Get Americans shopping again so the terrorists don’t win. Let’s not talk about her speech, that may have been plagiarized, echoing passages from Michelle Obama’s speech before the DNC in 2008. Fashion trumps substance!

Speaking of fashion and substance, did you catch former Calvin Klein underwear model  and soap opera actor Antonio Sabato Jr.’s speech? He moved from Rome to the U.S. in 1985 and became a naturalized citizen in 2006. He believes that Obama is a Muslim and told ABC News that Obama is “with the bad guys.” At least he looks good in underwear.


(google image)

I’ll admit to only having watched Antonio Sabato Jr. (kept hoping he would strip down to those undershorts) and the guy who came after him who was rather dour. Last night’s theme was “Make America Safe Again”–neither as catchy nor as bold as “Make America Great Again.” I wonder what tonight’s theme / motto will be.

I missed out on purchasing Melania’s dress like so many other women had the fortune to do. To be truthful, it’s more than I can afford to pay for a dress. Not sure I’d ever spend that much on a dress, but never say never. Isn’t it more important that we have the privilege to emulate celebrities, models (including underwear models) and those above our station, and imagine ourselves as rich and glamorous as they are? Ah, we can dream. Can’t we?

Jesus in the Glass Elevator

Jesus in the Glass Elevator (Erica Herd)

Jesus in the Glass Elevator (E. Herd)

Have you had enough
of gold Jesus in the Glass Elevator
looking down at you

Have you had enough
of shiny TV correspondents
bloviating on the blessed lives of celebrities
before you brush your teeth

Have you had enough
of lawns that keep growing
that you can’t afford to upkeep

what’s the grass for anyway?

Have you had enough
of 15 flavors of Triscuits, including:
Cracked Pepper & Olive Oil
Reduced Fat
Hint of Salt
Rosemary & Olive Oil
Dill, Sea Salt, & Olive Oil
Roasted Garlic
Fire Roasted Tomato & Olive Oil
Garden Herb
Rye with Caraway Seeds

Why fifteen?

Have you had enough
of too much
enough of hearing “amazing”
when it’s not

enough is enough

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel 2 & Other Things That Piss Me Off



(1)  The sequel to The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, aptly called The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel 2.
I know why it was made, but I don’t like the idea that it was made (to clarify, I haven’t seen it yet). Everything good (or not, sometimes) gets commodified and franchised. Don’t believe me? Watch Black MirrorEverything I know comes from Netflix.

(2)  Bad Chinese astrology.
This is my Chinese horoscope for the day:

In the news: Check for the opening of a great new play. Don’t be surprised if a celebrity you know is having an emotionally difficult time. What the heck, pick up a copy of People magazine while in the supermarket checkout line and catch up on the latest Hollywood gossip.

WTF? Okay, I guess I can do the first thing, but play-going is an expensive venture, especially in NYC. “Celebrities I know”? How many of us actually know celebrities? And I refuse to pick up a copy of People to check out the latest baby “bumps,” what Hugh Jackman eats for brunch or find out when Jennifer Aston will finally marry Justin Theroux and have that baby that we are all PRAYING for! There’s still time, Jen. We’re all rooting for you!

(3)  People who stand too close to you on the bus line at Port Authority.
Do they find it comforting to stand so close—are they cold and need the body heat? Sometimes I feel like the person behind me is my long-lost Siamese twin or wants to ride piggyback. Or do I look like a leaning post to them? I am not a stick of furniture!

(4)  Drivers who honk on Sundays or when totally unnecessary.
One Sunday, my reflexes weren’t fast enough to race ahead after the light changed green, and the person behind me (in New Jersey) blared his horn.  Where the hell is he going on a Sunday afternoon?

(5)  People who text while walking during rush hour in NYC.
Okay, folks, if you need to text, get out of the way! I’ve heard talk of a “texting lane” being established in the U.S., and it can’t come too soon. They already have it in China. They text on the busy streets, walking down and up the subway stairs and on the escalators at Port Authority. Look the hell up! There is a world out there.

(6)  Dust.
It settles and grows, settles and grows and I’m allergic to it and can’t get rid of it, and I hate dusting!

(7)  Governor Christie.
He announced yesterday that he could do a better job thwarting ISIS than President Obama. He went so far as to brag that he would implement the same strategies he’s used to make New Jersey the great state it is today. New Jersey is drowning, Christie! Unemployment and poverty have escalated during your tenure, residents are leaving in droves and the state ranks 49th in terms of private sector job growth.

Whew, I feel so much better now. What pisses you off today?



Celebrity Bull***t Artist

Wall-ESoylent Green

top photo: Charlie NZbottom photo: bandita

Bullshit has its uses. I can sling BS as well as the next guy or gal; sometimes it’s necessary to protect yourself, your loved ones or your job. But there are some forms of BS that really get under my skin, especially that purveyed by celebrities. Do I hold them to a higher standard because they are mega-wealthy, mega-privileged and can go “gypsetting” around the world? Perhaps. “Gypset,” by the way, is a term coined by journalist, travel writer and adventurer Julia Chaplin, describing a “nomadic yet sophisticated cadre of travelers” she encountered while on assignment as a travel writer, covering, as she puts it, “really jet-set-y things,” like the Cannes Film Festival or St. Barths.

One of the hottest celebrity artists is Daniel Arsham, featured in Ms. Chaplin’s article in The New York Times.

Singer-songwriter Pharrell Williams, who met Arsham at a dinner at a Miami gallery seven years ago, says, “Daniel is a master of illusion and science. The metaphors of his work read true to humans.”

Who else would they read true to, rhinos, baboons, aardvarks?

He went further to say, It’s not based upon languages. It’s based upon human reaction and response to his work.”

Okay, so language isn’t necessary, and humans respond to his work. Not aardvarks? If language isn’t needed, why can’t non-humans appreciate it?


Heather Paul

Al Moran, founder of Ohwow Gallery, which represents Arsham in Los Angeles, says, “The notion that highbrow and lowbrow culture are two separate things is a dated concept. Those two things have merged into one, and Daniel’s practice reflects that.”

Color me unhip, but “practice” is a term generally applied to lawyers, doctors, Buddhists, but not to visual artists. Help me out here.

Chaplin refers to his instagram account as “artwork in itself” with a perspective that is “at once playful and apocalyptic.”

Let me invoke SNL’s Linda Richman for a moment: Talk amongst yourselves. I’ll give you a topic. Playful apocalypse is neither playful nor an apocalypse—discuss. There, I feel better.

And if you are still unsure about the nature of his oeuvre, worry not, he is currently working on a 9-part feature film he wrote and directed called Future Relic, “exploring quotidian life in a post-ecological future.”

This evokes a Soylent Green / Wall-E world, with no plant or animal life, a dead earth. How cheerful.

The film stars James Franco, Juliette Lewis and Lukas Haas. A non-speaking Mr. Franco is dressed in silver safety pants while examining “calcified” objects against a soundtrack of “retro” Hawaiian music.

I wonder what the scenes with Lewis and Haas will entail.

In Arsham’s own words, “The future I’m interested in is pedestrian and everyday. It’s broken, but there’s also a lightness to it.”

Profound? I don’t think so.

Bullshit? Certainly.


Gerard Depardieu, Grave Robber: The Feline Perspective

“We got elegance, if you ain’t got elegance
You can never ever carry it off.”
–Jerry Herman

The Weirdest Celebrity of the Week Award goes to French actor Gerard Depardieu. Currently in tax-evasion exile in Russia, he disclosed in his autobiography Ca C’est Fait Comme Ca (It Happened Like That or That’s The Way It Was) that he was a former rent boy and grave robber and that he drinks 12 to 14 bottles of wine a day. He also claims to be friends with Vladimir Putin. All I can say is: TMI.

Our guest today is feline advice columnist Quincy M. Fuzzman, aka “Quincy,” who will be sharing his thoughts on Depardieu and other matters.

Quincy, Dramaturge

Mr. Fuzzman . . .

Please, call me Quincy.

Quincy, what, if any, are your thoughts on the recent revelations about Gerard Depardieu?

To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought, Erica. I mean, he’s not very well-known in the Feline Community.

I see, but as you are well-versed in film and the arts in general, what is your response? Do you think he should have brought these bizarre skeletons out of his closet?

Frankly, I find it déclassé. I know he had a difficult childhood, what with his mother trying to kill him in the womb with knitting needles and such, but some things are better left unsaid, especially the grave robbing.

What bothers you most about that?

Well, you have to understand that I grew up on the streets as well, so I’m no stranger to hardship. I contracted an eye infection as a kitten, which went untreated and resulted in complete loss of vision in my right eye and 70% loss of vision in the left. Then I developed asthma.  I ate out of trash cans, slept under cars and in garages in all kinds of weather, but I NEVER robbed a grave. Besides being illegal and invasive, it simply isn’t sanitary.

Point taken. And what about the prostitution charges?

You do what you have to when living on the streets.

And the heavy drinking – he claims to drink 12 to 14 bottles of wine a day in order to sleep.

Live and let live, but I don’t see how he’s still alive. We in the Feline Community have a credo, as do most non-human animals, “Take only what you need.” It’s how we survive in the wild. Perhaps he needs to do another film.

Now, Quincy, I realize that Depardieu is not well-known in the Feline Arts Community, but who do you and the rest of the puss world respect and admire?

Hmm. Steve Martin used to be a favorite, until he became an art snob. Of course, Eartha Kitt. Sarah McLachlan, Benedict Cumberbatch and Jackson Galaxy—he really gets us.

Oh, Jackson from My Cat from Hell?

Precisely. As a whole, we are tired of being misrepresented in cinema, popular literature and other forms of media. I mean that horrible movie Cats and Dogs was very damaging to us, and from my point of view, it seemed like anti-cat propaganda.

Can you offer any solutions?

I don’t want to jinx it, but I do have a project in the works.

We certainly look forward to that, Quincy.  Any final thoughts?

Yes. Please support your local no-kill shelters and fostering agencies, and adopt disabled pets whenever possible.

How can our readers contact you if they’re in need of advice or have any questions?

You can email me directly through Suburban Hobo, on the “Contact” page, and I will respond as soon as I can.

Thank you, Quincy, for sharing your thoughts and experiences, and shedding some light on the concerns of your community.

Always a pleasure, Erica.