The Presidential Race, Gossip Girl, Project Runway and Rambo: Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

Goodness gracious, where do I begin?

I saw the commercial for the new Rambo movie. The song used to advertise this little ode to testosterone? "Let the Bodies Hit the Floor" by I don't even remember or care. Way to date your movie, Sly. Way to be so very not ought.

Last night was jam packed with New York madness. Why are there no shows about Nebraska madness?

Project Runway returned to terrible form with a collection of some of the ugliest prom dresses I've ever seen. I mean, I know prom dresses, by definition, trend towards hideous but those were some fugly frocks. I'm a bit sad that weird beard guy is gone but not really because none of these designers are gaining my sympathy. Except, and I called that I would turn to the dark side on this one, Christian Siriano. Watching him work with the bratty teenager who basically drew the dress then hated it reminded me of Jeffrey Sebelia working with Angela's drippy mom. I felt sorry for him, too. And couldn't stand him, either. I am looking forward to hearing more of Tim's new catchphrase, "Rally!" I hope it replaces "Make it work!" That declaration is so two seasons ago, darling.

Bravo also offered up Make Me a Supermodel: Meet the Models. These contestants make the America's Next Top Model girls look like Mensa candidates (egads, one of them is from Plano, TX! First Chace Crawford, now this girl. What is going on here? That devil town needs to fade into the obscurity it deserves) and Niki Taylor is no Tyra Banks (which may be a compliment come to think of it). Some of the boys are purty cute and my favorite is the dopey deputy from Nashville, Ben DiChiara (Barney Fife). I bet they love him at the prison!

I had three servings of vicious Upper East Side action with Gossip Girl, The Nanny Diaries (Tom's choice, not mine) and Cashmere Mafia. I know people in New York aren't awful but then again, I don't know anyone on the UES. Wait, I used to. And she was just as scary. $113 million will buy you amazing art and great clothes, but it will not buy happiness or nice. Anyhoo, I sat rapt as Blair Waldorf (in scenes very reminiscent of Heathers including the colored tights and passing of the headband to Jenny) and Mrs X (I'm sorry, but when I listened to Julia Roberts read that book, I did not picture Paul Giamatti - much as I love him - as Mr. X) got their comeuppance. As for the women of Cashmere Mafia... I don't mind Mia and Zoe but the wannabe cheating wife (Miranda Otto) and the wannabe lesbian (Bonnie Sommerville)... they're making me tired.

This is going to sound awful but I can't even tell A/The Daily Show and The Colbert Report don't have writers. Their coverage of the bumbing pundits mis-calling New Hampshire made me laugh out loud at both which I haven't done in quite a while. However, between all the nitwits at CNN, Bill Kristol and Chris Matthews, they had an embarrassment of riches.

Speaking of politics, Bill Richardson dropped out of the race before the Nevada Caucus (his one possible winner). It makes me wonder what kind of deal Clinton cut with him to get him out. I've long thought he was the obvious choice as her running mate. We'll see.

Catch ya later, tater,
Ms. P