"The Bachelor" is Back!

I've been working way too much lately, and I've been wanting to write about a couple things but I just haven't had time. One of the things is "Lost", but I literally am working 'till 11 and 12 every night and haven't been able to catch up on the episodes on TiVo. But once I watch the one from last night, I will be commenting cause I have a lot to say.

Anyway, just wanted to pop in and remind you all that "The Bachelor" is returning April 2nd. And you know how much I love doing "The Bachelor" recaps. It's truly sad, but it is one of my great joys in life. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I have a job now so I won't be able to do my instant recaps and post them right after the show ends. But I will still write it as I'm watching it, it just might be on a different night. I'm going to do my best to ignore any talk of what's happening until I see the episode for myself.

My inside sources tell me that this next season is really good. Why? Because the girls actually love this dude. Apparently, there was a lot of "producing" that went into the last bachelor - and by producing I mean making it seem like the girls liked the Prince. Well this season, they're into him.

However, I have other sources (who don't work for the Bachelor), who tell me that this guy might be gay. On the one hand, that's sad. On the other, that might make for an awesome season! I mean, there's nothing single, desperate women love more than a gay man they think they can make straight. And I think I might have tapped out on virgin jokes last year, so now I can go to my closeted gay man arsenal.

We're taping our third show today, and I'm making a cameo as...you guessed it, a gay astronaut. Wait 'till you see my outfit. The people here are lucky I'm so comfortable with my sexuality. We needed someone to do this and I proposed that the (actually) gay makeup guy do it, and the response was "Irwin, it's not funny when a guy who's really gay does it, that's just mean". And then I suggested by buddy Chris and they go "Irwin, there's nothing we can do to Chris to make him look gay". Apparently, it doesn't take much for me. Lots of gay in my life, and this post. Sorry.

Anyway, more on the weekend, later...

The D-List

One of the joys of living in LA is seeing celebrities. It’s actually a lot more fun to see not so famous people. Ian Ziering was in a car behind me one time and it made my fucking week. “Ziering’s behind me, and he’s not driving a Corvette!”

I had a D-list celebrity fueled weekend. It reminded me of a joke I have in a script I wrote that now resides in my closet, it's something like: "You don’t wanna go to LA, it’s too tough there. When you're at a bar and you see a girl you like, the other dudes you're competing with at that bar don't just look like Colin Farrell, they ARE Colin Farrell!" It's better in the script, I promise. I didn't see Colin Farrell or any A-listers, but I did see some that fall in the Ziering range. Here are the highlights:

I took a lady friend to Wolfgang Puck's new restaurant "The Cut", which is located in the Beverly Wilshire hotel in Beverly Hills. It's fancy. And we're sitting there and she's telling some story when suddenly the chef comes over and shakes our hands and asks how everything is. He moves on and this girl just continues on with her story. After about 30 seconds I cut her off, "you know, that was Wolfgang Puck". She said, "I know", and continues right on with her story. There’s no impressing some people. She’s going on and on about some bullshit and all I’m thinking is “Wolfgang Puck cooked my green beans!”

I went to Winston's, which is a bar. A lot of celebrities go there, and it's so new and "hot" that the last time I went there they didn't let me in. Can you believe that? I dropped the name Irwin Handleman but still, nothing. But I actually was fine with it, because great looking girls were strolling right past me up to the Bouncer and he wasn’t letting them in. Hey, if good looking girls are being turned away, then I agree, I shouldn’t be let in either. I'm a supporter of the "hot ladies first" rule.

This time I got in and we sat down at a table that had a "reserved" sign on it. It wasn't long before we were kicked out. Who was the table reserved by? Michael Freaking Bay. I spent the rest of the night yelling "The Island" sucks! and “The Rock’s a tourist attraction” and various other things. I was drunk. God Damn Bay.

On Saturday, I went to a house party. My friend's roommate is Brandon, who is the black guy who made the final 12 and then was the first to get the boot. Thus, a lot of current AI contestants were there. I talked to Blake, Chris R. - who appears to be going out with that chick who kinda looks like Shakira and sang Shakira's songs but was horrible and annoying. Unfortunately, Sanjaya wasn’t there. Even worse, neither was his sister. Even worse than that, his mom was there. Creepy.

And then I saw this guy who I kinda recognized but didn't really think about it. But then someone said to me "Hey, did you see that Pedro's here?". And then it clicked: Pedro from "Napoleon Dynamite" was in the building. That's right, people, I only hang with the hottest stars in Hollywood. Bay and Pedro.

Finally, the sighting of the weekend. So I'm at this party and I hear a voice. A voice that was like a fork on a chalkboard. I knew it right away. I turned around to confirm:

It was Erica from "The Bachelor". Yes, Erica. The insane dumbass"socialite" who the Prince kept around for way too long. Apparently, she lives in LA. And that’s when I knew it was time to call it a night, cause Erica is a lot of things, but she's no Ziering.

My Hair (Part 2)

I go to a Supercuts near my apartment about every 3 weeks. And there is a haircutter there who is hot. She is Latina, with a cute face, but a ridiculous stripper body. Everyone else working there is fairly disgusting. I think they’ve all popped out a minimum of 5 kids, and despite their credentials as licensed beautologists, they appear to not do any upkeep on their hair or anything else.

Anyway, this girl is hot and she knows it. She wears her little outfits and has her hair did. Meanwhile the other “stylists” are in their sweatpants and curlers. You know they hate her guts.

At first, I admit I fell into the trap. I used to get my haircut by her all the time. And I used to very subtly throw out my beaner qualifications to try and impress her. Sadly, she’s a Paul Rodriguez fan and only an average cutter of hair. At a certain point I realized I wasn’t getting anywhere with this girl, and her so-so skills were actually costing me ladies. So I stopped the madness.

Now every time I go in there is a guy in her chair flirting with her. Then there are 2 or 3 other guys waiting to get their hair cut by her. Meanwhile, 8 other haircutters are sitting around doing nothing but make no money and plot the hot girl’s assassination. Every guy that goes in there requests her. Keep in mind, this is Supercuts. She uses Vidal Sassoon, but she is not Vidal Sassoon.

My favorite part about this is that Supercuts has this deal where their haircutters have to ask you if you want the “relaxing tea tree experience” (that’s how they say it), which basically means they take you into the back and wash your hair and use the tea tree conditioner or some shit. You have never seen guys line up faster for anything in your life. You’d think the tea tree experience included Super Bowl tickets or a handjob. But no, they just want this girl to run her hands on their head for a couple minutes. That’s what it’s come to.

I think she should do all of us a favor and just work at the strip club, then she’d make more money and at least these motherfuckers could get to rub their head in her boobs. Now that’s a tea tree experience I can get excited about. I don’t want conditioner in my head, I want some glitter and boob sweat.

If You Like Sports, Read This

It's an article by Chuck Klosterman, who I love, that I wish I wrote.

The Lesbian Question

I saw a great Oprah the other day. I don't normally watch Oprah (is there always that many commercial breaks? No wonder she has a billion dollars). What happened was I was trying to go to sleep because I had a 15 hour shoot the next day starting at 6am, but stupid daylight savings time meant that midnight felt like 11 so I was wide awake. I was flipping the channels around and for some reason, Oprah is on at 12 Sunday nights.

Anyway, I don't know what they're normally like, but this was a great one. When I turned to it, Oprah was talking to an attractive blonde woman. She had been married with 2 kids when she couldn't fight it anymore: she's a lesbian. She told her husband and he was surprisingly understanding, he said "it's okay, honey, we'll work through this". Uh, buddy, I don't think you heard her, she's a lesbian not an alcoholic, there's nothing to work through...but maybe he was just trying to pull a threesome out of it.

So they got a divorce, but then 4 years later her ex-husband had some news: he couldn't fight it anymore, he's gay. They were both in the closet and married to each other and having kids and shit. Dude, what was their sex like? They both must have great imaginations, because that's a lot of closed-eyes, I wish you were someone else love making. It's so sad that people would rather do that than just be themselves. If the situation were reversed and being straight was frowned upon, I can't imagine how scared I'd have to be to fuck a dude for 10 years. Or how scared I'd have to be to fuck a dude once.

Now they're both in committed relationships, and both significant others were in the audience. They cut to the wife's girlfriend and she is the BUTCHIEST LESBIAN OF ALL TIME - short hair, manly clothes, and bigger shoulders than mine.

Which brings me to the lesbian question that I think we all want to know: what's up with these lesbians? You like girls, right? So why are you attracted to girls who look like dudes? Her girlfriend is twice the man her husband is. She was more gay when she was him!

My good friend happens to be a lesbian. And she is "married" to a very butch lesbian. I asked her what the deal was with this, but I didn't really get a good answer. She said it's not really about looks, it's more about the attraction to the person, and something about how lesbians don't care about the physical the way men do.

But I think that has to be bullshit. If it's not about looks, then why do so many lesbians have the butch look? If they didn't give a shit, there'd be all different kinds. You don't see gay guys growing their hair long or wearing skirts. Okay, maybe you see the skirts thing, or at least assless pants, but that's not all gay guys. Fine, it's not all lesbians, but it's a lot of them. Please take my word for this - I went to a about a million women's basketball games as a youth. The point is, they obviously do think something about looks because they are all looking similar. I just don't get it, you'd think if you liked women you'd like a womanly look. But that's not the way it goes.

So let's get back to the double gay married couple in the bedroom. When she was making her husband go down on her and imagining that he was someone else, was she imagining a girly girl with long hair, a Jessica Simpson type, or was she thinking about someone who pretty much looked exactly like her husband, only with no penis, like a Gayle King type? And if it's the Gayle King type, then would she really have to do much imagining at all?

E! is for Idiots

I watched about 5 minutes of E!'s new reality show "Paradise City" this weekend and was horrified. I shouldn't have been surprised, after all, it is E! But when a show is stamped with "Executive Producer: Ryan Seacrest", you expect quality.

It makes me laugh every time E! produces another sad reality show. Why? Because a few years back, the brainiacs at E! passed on "Survivor", "The Bachelor", and every other ratings giant that ended up on real networks. The bigwigs over there are not big on spotting future trends. They're also not big on spending any money. The joke over there is every show they come up with starts with the pitch "Let's use some footage from our video library..." Meaning that they send cameramen to red carpet events and then try to build every show off of that footage so they won't have to spend money. And thus, you get "101 Celebrity Makeovers!" and "101 Celebrity Couples" and "101 Comedians You've Never Heard of Making Bad Jokes about Celebrities on the Red Carpet".

Anyway, "Paradise City" follows some "attractive" singles around Vegas, all of whom are "trying to make it". And this is the thing that is insane about this show: who goes to Vegas to make it? The only thing people go to Vegas to "make it" in is whoring.

Bad Picture?

Well, I got an angry email about the post below this one. It was from my sister - mother of Toots McGhee. She claims that the picture of Toots and I is a complete misrepresentation of both of us, so she sent me another and demanded that I put it up. She also censored it so I wouldn't get in trouble from the FCC or the pec police.

I'm not ready for kids

When my dad was my age, he was married with 3 kids. I live alone and can't take care of my shirts. They're all wrinkly and shit.

Anyway, I have a nephew. He's 2 and a half. His name is Toots McGee. Why? Cause he toots a lot and for some reason McGee is a good comedy last name. He's a big fan of 3 things: The movie "Cars", the Wiggles, and the movie "Cars". Oh, and also juice. He loves juice.

So with my VIP membership to Ticketmaster, I was able to snare some orchestra section duckets to the Wiggles concert at Gibson Amphitheater on Saturday. It was our first big outing together, other than the time I told him I had to go pee pee and he ran into the bathroom to helpfully put his potty trainer on the toilet for me.

As we drove to the concert he kept saying "We're going to see riggles!". And then I would do my favorite thing and say "Toots!" and he would go "McGee!!!" But when I said, "do you know that you're Toots McGee? And he goes "I'm not Toots McGee, I'm me". But he's still Toots McGee.

We got inside and the first thing I see is a "stroller parking lot". I've never seen so many strollers in my life. And then we get where the seats and the stage are and it was like a switch was flicked on in his little brain. His neck snapped over to the stage and he did not turn away for the next 2 hours.

How do these freaks know what little kids like? It's kinda creepy. It's not kinda, it is creepy. The whole thing was like the dark side of the entertainment business. You know after the show these people wash the makeup off their face, rent a hooker, hit the hotel fridge and start throwing back mini-bottles and cry about how they're "real musicians". The Wiggle who plays guitar started playing the opening chords to "Stairway to Heaven" at one point, just to show that he could. We know, man, we know.

Now I understand why it's so tempting for parents to make their kids like what they like. The whole time I'm like "Toots, can't you see The Wiggles are garbage? Can't you see that?! We could be at the House of Blues watching DJ Quik right now!" But whatever, Toots doesn't like DJ Quik, he likes the "Riggles".



The reason he looks pissed off is because taking this picture forced him to avert his eyes from the stage for 2 seconds.

This is how sad my hair is...

I've had the same haircut since roughly 1984 - that was the year I went from bowl cut to what I have now. I go to Supercuts. Unless I'm near a Fantastic Sam's, then I go there. I pay my $15 bucks, sit there for 5 minutes, and I'm all set for the next 3 weeks. It's a beautiful system.

I'm not what anyone would describe as "metrosexual". I don't spend a lot of time on my appearance, there is no waxing going on or even that much shaving. Why? Because I am lazy. My mornings are built around trying to get the maximum amount of sleep before forcing my way up, into the shower, and into my car. I'm happy with this arrangement. The ladies probably aren't. But I don't really think about it.

So I'm on a field shoot the other day, and the "hair stylist" keeps looking at me. And I can't figure out if he knows me from somewhere or he wants some Irwin love. Finally, he comes up to me and just says: "I'm sorry, I have to do this." And he puts some product in his hand and just starts going to town on my hair. Then he goes, "Thank you, I feel so much better."

An hour later he comes back. He goes "Sorry, one other thing. I have to fix your neck line." He takes out a little comb like thingy with a small razor on it and fixes the back of my hair. He goes "I just couldn't look at that anymore" and walks off.

I'm like, wow, that's how sad my hair is - it caused a stylist to commit hair rape...twice! And this is how I've been walking around the planet for the last 22 years, and the 8 before that was with the bowl cut. It's really difficult to believe that I'm still single.

Is There Ever Such a Thing as Too Much Crazy?

I hate to write about Britney some more, but this isn’t really about Britney, she just happens to be the best example…

Every article I read about her includes something about her future “comeback”. Every single one. No one goes, “well, she’s fucked.” It’s always, “can Britney come back?”

Isn’t there a line that is crossed at a certain point where you can’t come back? And doesn’t waving your vagina around like a football fan waves around a giant foam finger get you close to the line? Or what about walking barefoot in gas station bathrooms while eating cheetos and drinking red bull and jack daniels? How about getting fat and high and marrying losers and popping out babies who you don’t pay attention to unless you’re dropping them on their heads? No? That doesn't exclude you from America's sweetheart list? Okay, how about, I don’t know, shaving your head because you’re afraid of being drug tested and beating the shit out of your ex-husband's car in front of the paparazzi? Is there nothing she can do to forever fuck things up for herself?

You know if she gets out of rehab, grows her hair out, and someone writes her a good song and she sings it and then they use the magic computers that make her voice sound marginal, people will embrace her. If people can pretend Anna Nicole was something other than a drug addicted fame and money whore, then they can forget the Britney bald/vagina years (hee, bald vagina). If Anne Coulter can be a best selling author after making fun of 9/11 victims and calling people with cancer stricken wives “faggots”, then millions will buy the Timbaland produced “Hit Me Baby Yet Another Time” comeback album. Americans are truly the most forgiving people, and that’s not necessarily a good thing.