Glitter and Gold

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There were no winners in the Got Game? contest. That means everybody lost. I’m so sorry. This loss must be akin to losing the lottery on a Saturday night after being stood up. Oh well, maybe next time. Although you couldn’t guess the song, it was fitting for Beatrice on her rise to fame and all. She needed a reminder ’cause she’s real good at inflating herself. Now, many of you liked the voice behind the music and her name is Rebecca Ferguson. I don’t watch talent shows but she was on The X Factor and is British. I so happened to discover her on Youtube but she’s been around a few years. The title of the song is the title of this post. At any rate, you were introduced to a talent you liked, so you’re a winner after all.

Catwalking with First Ladies

You didn’t think I’d let Women’s History Month slip past without a word, did you? Leave it to moi, the queen bee, to keep you relevant and in style with women of class. Numero uno is me, baby. That’s right. I’m the style icon at the local Cheesecake Factory in the ATL and Totsy’s subdivision. Yes people, you must claim your fame wherever you can until you can do better, alright? I can walk with my head up without a tummy tuck because I am beautifully luscious as I am. Snap, snap, spin. Catch me before I fall, people. I’m dizzy now.

I know that you know Michelle Obama’s the most stylish First Lady since Jackie O. The other first ladies did what they could and we got through it. I have to say Nancy Reagan was fashionable too. Snap, snap Nance. You did that. And while we’re talking first ladies, I have to say Olivia Pope, you’re one chick who can wear a white coat and work a business like nobody’s business, okay? Yes, I get that you’re a TV character but I have to take my sunglasses off and give a shout out because I’m all about that life. You feel what I’m saying?

And too, while we’re talking Olivia, I do want you and Fitz to stop it with all this “I can’t breathe without you” talk. Of course, you can. You slept with Jake, who’s living in your apartment and taking off his shirt in front of you. I say, keep going for it girlfriend. I will if you won’t, okay? He’s single and you need to mingle to get that tingle with someone you’re evenly yoked with, as in available.

Oh my, time flies and I’ve veered off course on my subject matter here. Oh, well. Enjoy the catwalk with these lovely first ladies and I’ll catch you backstage before my Vegas show. You didn’t get a backstage pass? Call my manager. His office is at Starbucks where he’s trying to hook up with that free wifi, okay?

Fashionably Yours,

Beatrice from Apartment 7B

Jackie Kennedy. Google Image

Nancy Reagan. Google Image.

Michelle Obama. Google Image.

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Little Girl, Get Over Here So I Can Have A Sit-Down with You

In this life, you must be about the business of performing the work you were called upon to do. To be involved in anything else is time wasted. While I serve as your National Hollywood Gossip Correspondent, well, until my International License is approved, I’m also the Relationship Police. Since that says it all, I want to head right into my subjects for the day, people.

First of all, I’m truly sorry The Voice, which was Whitney Houston, has left us. I rooted for her comeback, because really, why would I not? Why would I have wanted to see her remain on a downward spiral and poke fun or play self-righteous? All of us have our demons. We all fall down but not as publicly, outside of my little mishap yesterday. Though, anyway…

I want to address you today, Little Bobbi Christina. I know you don’t know me but I’m very well aware of you. And your mother’s manager, who was surely “managing” alright. She’s the one who took the photo of your lovely mother as she lay for her last viewing. It was during the private viewing that this photo op took place, which then went on to the gossip rags. I know she’s family but she’s lowdown and dirty for what she did. Though. the bigger matter is this little relationship you’re carrying on, Little Bobbi.

You’re still a babe and need to hop a plane to Jersey to be with your grandmother. Sweetie, you don’t need to be down here in Georgia living and engaged to that young man. He’s been living as your brother and it should remain as such. I caught the interview you had with Oprah. I’m truly at peace that you’re at peace with your mother passing. That’s healthy because I know initially, it wasn’t. But Baby, what isn’t healthy is you parading all over town, hugging and sporting this 2-pound diamond. I want you to know, I’m carrying a good stock of switches should I happen upon you at some point. Both you and the boy will feel the wrath of the Lord should I be fortunate in meeting your acquaintance. As a matter of fact, I’ve been hanging out at Lenox Square Mall hoping we’d bump into one another.  Enough said, Baby  Girl. (Now braiding the switches)

And Ariana, as for the Jolies or Brads getting engaged? Well honey, all I can say is that’s more attention for the Leg Woman.

Angelina, well Sweetie, I’ve never been particularly crazy about you or your acting abilities but do your thing, if that’s what you feel is your gift to the world. Whatever. I’m just not into female action heroes, that’s all. Brad, I do want you to clean up for this wedding. Don’t let Angelina have you waiting for her at the end of the wedding aisle barefoot and wearing cutoff jeans, with your beard braided up and beads dangling from it. I can see this so clearly  and I so wish I didn’t. Honey, your mother raised you better than that. I know it’s challenging to be weird in Hollywood but be yourself and smell good at least. You don’t look like you smell too well, Baby. Other than that, I’m most appreciative of what you do. Oh, and should these nuptials actually take place, check your woman for those side splits to ensure we’re not flashed with another leg. As my good friend Totsy would say, “That’s ridamndiculous.”