Tag Archives: Kathy Griffin

Still beautiful, still a blockhead.

I’m aware he’s possibly the dumbest man that ever lived, and I’m not talking only recently, but in prehistoric times too, when people didn’t even have a vocabulary and just made noises, but for some inexplicable reason Levi Johnston is also one of the most attractive human beings to roll off God’s production line in a couple of centuries – something I’ve commented on before.

If I’d had the luck to be one of his contemporaries and attend the same high school back in the day, he’s the kid I would not have been able to take my eyes off in class all year. I swear.

My thoughts each evening would have been 20% on my French homework and 80% on what Levi was doing instead; because, sure as hell, it wasn’t French homework. I may even have called his house and put the phone down hurriedly the second he answered with one of his incoherent neolithic grunts, secretly exhilarated that he’d issued a personal greeting to me – ME! Little nobody me – replaying the moment in my head for weeks afterwards.  That’s how creepy things could have become.

In those days. I’d have regarded it as a real privilege to be beaten up by someone of Levi’s caliber, or knocked unconscious with repeated blows from a hockey stick. Because violence is communication, right? And if, say, he’d tried to make his hunting and fishing chums laugh uncontrollably one day by slamming a hallway door in my spotty, adolescent, bespectacled face for a stunt, possibly breaking my nose…well, I’d probably have creamed my pants. Or passed out altogether. Believe me, I passed out more than once back then. What can I say – I go weak in the presence of beauty. I’m sorry. It’s a major failing.  Always was.

But since none of that happened, seems I’m stuck with watching him fight to form sentences on Larry King instead, as Levi Johnston slowly becomes, quite by accident – the accident of knocking up a lunatic politician’s daughter – an icon of our dumb age.

griffinThank goodness, then, that Kathy Griffin can talk non-stop.

Last night she was hosting Larry King’s show on CNN – another dumb turn of events. After going to the Teen Choice Awards with Levi as her date, she had him on as her guest, then was forced to do all the intellectual heavy lifting herself. Here’s the result.

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Parasite killers, the skinny.

After my resounding triumph with the subject of how to make a good salad yesterday, I was going to switch back to showbiz  and mention Lily Tomlin. She appeared on Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List last night in an effort, it struck me, to maybe redeem herself. Possibly. Perhaps. Her yelling tirade on the set of I Heart Huckabees, the one that was all over the internet, must have painted her as a director’s nightmare in such a way that she might never escape it.

Even if the outburst was justified, which it seems like it might have been – David O. Russell seems like a maniac – the public perception of her at that point, as gifted and loved as she is, spiraled downwards into the pits of hell. It may not last long, but very briefly, right now, it’s what she’s known for. Basically, she was Christian Bale before we’d heard how obnoxious, lofty, and combustible he could be.

So last night, in a rather self-indulgent and boring edition of the D-List, she appeared with Kathy Griffin, performing and laughing a lot, while at the same time seeming somewhat old and sad, I thought. But of course! Who wouldn’t be? The last thing you want after a prestigious award-winning career packed with Emmys and Grammys and Oscar nominations is to have an entire generation watch you being annoying and petulant, however justifiedly, on a YouTube video and dismissing you as a hysterical tyrant.

So that’s what I was going to talk about. But my mind drifted. From general Hollywood types to parasites, since the two are often so intimately connected in the real world, and then right back onto salads again. Because I realize now that I have other information to dispense

So here we go. Salad information: day 2. Who knew this topic could be so darned interesting?

Actually, this is more of a warning to you to wash your vegetables before you eat them. Last year, I found a survey on the web that set out in detail the extraneous materials we ingest if we don’t wash our food properly, and I remember wanting to barf. As well as parasites, their eggs, and pesticide residues, this included a lot of insect legs, wings, and body parts – things undetectable by the naked eye and which disappear into the general delicious crunch of the meal as you eat it.

Not unreasonably, this had me freaked out.

According to Dr. Larry Clapp in his book Prostate Health in 90 Days (don’t ask me why I was reading that, or why Larry hasn’t taken steps to change his surname to something less hilarious), “It’s estimated that 85% to 95% of adults living in the U.S. are unwitting and unwilling hosts to one or more of the 1000+ parasite species. These parasites are physically in us, living off our food and energy…” He goes on to say that they range from tiny microscopic organisms to thirty-foot long tapeworms.

Thirty foot long!

Larry calls parasites “squatters”, who take up residence not only in the intestinal tract but all over the body, sapping our energy and feeding off our food, and sometimes causing a bunch of weird ailments. Furthermore, physicians, he says, can only trace around 30% of parasites, so your doctor  might not be much help in pinning this stuff down. Therefore, if you have a pet that ventures outside, or you eat salads in restaurants, or you travel a lot, then apparently there’s a high chance you have parasites. To which your reaction, quite justifiably, might be, “Ugh, get them out of me, get them out of me!”

Well, okay, but please don’t panic. I’m not saying your life’s in danger, I’m just saying, “Yeuw!” Which is as good a starting point as any.

Myself, I handle the parasite challenge in several different ways.

First, I wash all my salad stuff before I eat it. I get a bowl, fill it with water, and pour a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar into it. Then I dump all the vegetables in and leave them for ten minutes. I’m told that this kills parasites. Or at least it washes off any legs or eggs that are present.

Second, I have done a couple of parasite cleanses. I chatted at length with one of the knowledgeable kids in Wholefoods first, then went ahead and bought the one he recommended, which took thirty days to rampage through my body like liquid Rambo, slaughtering any worms and stuff that might have been in there.

Plus, once or twice a week, on an empty stomach about an hour before breakfast, I drink a tablespoon of bentonite clay stirred into a tall glass of water. It’s a light-gray sludge that’s unattractive to look at but virtually tasteless. I heard that it scours your body, especially your colon, cleaning it of toxins and foreign invaders – and who doesn’t want that, quite honestly? It’s powerful stuff, too, that will make you constipated if you do it too often, so be careful. I’d rather have parasites vacationing and laying eggs all over my stomach than be constipated. Anyway, research, research, research.

Additionally, the fourteen-day fast I embarked on last January was good for clearing out a lot of alien materials that, to my mind, are better out than in. You won’t believe how much stuff I got rid of. My movie Fast and Very Loose tells you all about that. Now showing on Vimeo. WATCH HERE.

Finally, in really severe cases, treatment with a substance called diatomaceous earth, which is ground-up fossil shells, has been known to give the most audacious parasites a real run for their money. Here’s a video of a rather creepy guy not only drinking it himself but killing ants with it. Or so he says. He just puts a spoonful in a Ziploc bag, then promises you that they’ll be dead soon, without ever showing you. in that respect, it’s a vide-IOU, which I thought was hilarious. Better than television.

D.E. is the stuff they put behind refrigerators to kill earwigs and beetle infestations. But if you ingest the food-grade kind – which you should only do after more research to make sure you’re safe, because the FDA doesn’t give a thumbs-up to any of this and nobody wants you to get hurt by swallowing earwig poison – it’s like pouring a trillion miniature cut-diamonds into your system. They go through slicing up worms and other parasites, which then drop out the other end, diced up and dead. It also works wonders, according to the creepy man in the video, for arthritis, blood pressure problems, and making your hair stronger. Something else he asserts but doesn’t prove, like the ants.

And if none of these kill your parasites, try getting Lily Tomlin to shout at them. That’d certainly work for me. I’d be gone in a heartbeat.

NOTE: I’m adding this extra little bit for the sake of completeness. Every time I do any kind of cleanse, I always take probiotics at the same time, because some of this stuff can be harsh and wash away the good bacteria too, which isn’t good. Yoghurt’s healthy, but there are other specific ones that aid digestion and you should look into that. Usually, your health food store and any research you do will tell you back up your bacteria supply the way you back up files in a defective hard drive.

At the very least, even if you’re not interested in any of this, wash your vegetables. That much you can do. I’m not sure I’d ever resort to scrubbing them or buying products to clean them with. That nonsense could get old fast in our house. We don’t have time. But dropping them in a bowl of apple cider vinegar-tainted water – hell, that’s easy-peasy, and will reduce considerably your chances of ingesting parasites.

Oh, and you might wanna stop kissing your dog too. I mean, c’mon – that can’t be healthy,right?  I’m just saying.

TV Swami – he say YES to inner health.

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What the hell has Mary Tyler Moore done to her face?

Living in Hollywood, I’m surrounded by face lifts. Half the people you pass in the street who are over 50 seem to have had a little something done.  A tweak, a lift, or a total overhaul that leaves their eyebrows locked in the “oooh!” position, their top lip fixed rigid like a ventriloquist dummy’s, cheeks as round and smooth as bobbing apples, and everything else pulled taut, stretched tight, and held in place around the back with a bulldog clip. It’s the norm here rather than the exception.

What these people don’t realize is that: a) face lifts sag, so eventually you have to have them re-done, and b) by the time you reach 70, all your surgical chickens come home to roost for the whole world to see, leaving you looking like a deflated party balloon.

I have a friend in her sixties who comes to dinner sometimes. She’s always tampering with her looks. You think you know her, then, boom, she’ll surprise you by turning up looking like a total stranger. A stranger with the same features, but in a different order. Or polished. Or with one eye slightly bigger than the other.

It’s highly disturbing, and I would never, ever do it myself, any more than I would have, say, Botox injected into my muscles and risk ending up with a stiff Frankenstein forehead like Simon Cowell and Sharon Osbourne, or Lasik surgery on my eyes, not after hearing Kathy Griffin say she’s now 30% blind, and after I read that the earliest pioneers of this technique in Japan have found their scar tissue ripping, also leading to partial blindness.

Then

By the way, the reason I mention all of this is because 7-time Emmy winner Mary Tyler Moore was on Letterman the other night. She’s 72, and I don’t know what happened, but I’m guessing it’s a ton of surgery, because she looks terrible. Teeeerrrrrrible. Tweaked, stretched, gruesomely fiddled with, or something. Whatever she did – boy, how she must be regretting it now. If you ever wince when you see your own reflection, go look at photos of her and you’ll feel ten times better immediately.

Of course, you can’t assert that people have had plastic surgery when they might not have done, so I’m not definitely saying she has, you understand. But the signs are usually right there.

For me, the telltale pointer is your own shock when you next see them.

Take, for instance, Joan Rivers, who’s the nearest thing we have to, if not a comedy goddess, then certainly a living waxwork of one. According to her own recent reality show, she’s had….guess how many procedures. Go on, guess.

744.

Is that even humanly possible? Has to be a joke, right? Did it actually say ’74’ and my eyes were blurred and saw triple figures? God, I’d like to think so, for her sake. But no, I went back and checked. 744.

And believe me, without make-up, the evidence of what Joan has done to herself over the years is right there: she has a face like an unbaked scone. It’s beyond sad. How lost, I wonder, how troubled, and how much must you hate yourself deep, deep inside, to do something like this to your face? That’s the question I ask when I see people like that. Especially if it turns you into a laughing stock. The irony is that her main claim to fame these days is Fashion Police, a horrible bitchy show in which she criticizes and jokes about the way celebrities look, which everyone laughs and thinks to themselves, “Jeez, with that face, how does she even have the nerve to attack anyone else?”

Then there’s Liza Minnelli. She was on Rosie O’Donnell’s variety show a couple years ago. The woman still seemed as ditsy and addled as ever, but now she’s a different Liza somehow. Thinner, more vibrant, and looking so rejuvenated that mere cosmetic tampering alone can’t be the answer. More likely, scientists secretly took her DNA 35 years ago, planted it in a petri dish, and started growing a second Liza as a back-up, in case the first one went right off the rails, which she looked like she might do for a while. It was a remarkable transition, and I still don’t know if I like it. Luckily, her bizarre routine with O’Donnell was a hokey, embarrassing, cringe-making debacle – so nothing’s changed on that score, at least.

Now

UPDATE – 20th January 2011. Remarkably, Mary Tyler Moore resurfaced again last night on the second season opener of TV Land’s Hot in Cleveland. She was reunited with Betty White for the first time since 1977, when they played together in The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

In Hot she was Betty’s cellmate, lying on a bunk, her face hidden from the camera, which, in hindsight was advisable, because when she turned round, my lord…well, it wasn’t good. 90% of the studio audience must have been going, “Er…who the hell is that?

At 74 years of age, Mary’s new face looks dark and evil. So completely different to the girl-next-door comedienne we once loved (and actually recognized). I know that many years and a whole lot of living have gone into that face, but you could say the same about Betty, who may have had a little something done years ago herself perhaps, but is otherwise untouched and looks natural and wonderful, and won’t send the children to bed screaming.

So a lesson for all of us there – leave your face alone. Grow old in your own good time. Love yourself for who you are and stop trying to be someone you’re not.

UPDATE – May 12 2011. Mary has a brain tumor and is going to have it surgically removed. Now this kind of surgery is probably justified. But in any case, she’s an icon and a legend. Let’s quit our showbiz sniping for a few weeks and pray she recovers and survives.

UPDATE – January 16th 2012. Tonight Mary Tyler Moore appeared on a very cheesy tribute show for Betty White’s 90th birthday on NBC, and she’s not aged well. Frail, shaky, distant. She’s only 75 but at first glance she seemed older than Betty herself. The poor woman has had a brain tumor removed, so we must be very kind and understanding. She’s also nearly blind due to diabetes.

On that ground, I refuse to comment further about her looks. Except to say, “Oh – my – god!” If nothing else, treat this as a PSA from the showbiz community. Stop going to plastic surgeons. If you have third degree burns, maybe. On the other hand, if you look just fine, but don’t want to end up looking like you once had third degree burns, leave yourself alone.

Oh, and since you’re here, don’t forget: Cash has two books out right now.

The first is a delicious mystery-thriller called Force of Habit: Sister Madeleine Investigates, which people are already calling ‘Dazzling’ and ‘Frightening’ and ‘So cool’. It’s hard not to love it, frankly. Right now it’s only $2.99, and GREAT fun.

The other is a quite stunning and fascinating chronicle of Cash’s 12-day journey to Brazil to undergo spiritual surgery from famed healer John of God. It’s a total page-turner. Called a little book about believing, the ideas it contains will blow – your – mind, as well as change your life. Now available on Amazon – Kindle or paperback.

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”This book is wonderful, surprising, challenging, eye-opening, sensitive, touching…I’m running out of words. Just get it and read it.” – Caroline Lehman, author of Through the Moongate.

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And a reader: “Started reading the book last night at eleven. Read til 4am, passed out. Finished it today less than an hour ago. It’s hard to convey at how perfect a point in my life it came. I have you and your exquisite little book to thank for changing my life forever, intimately and positively.”



 

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I’m not going to lie to you: we’re screwed

They’re showing an episode of new cop drama Lie to Me on hulu.com. Episode 6. A young girl has gone missing. In order to track her down, the main character in the show, played by Tim Roth, is given the job of striding around various houses and offices being quirky and unpredictable for an hour, as main characters in dramas have to be now, if they’re to compete with Hugh Laurie in House.  

Roth plays a human lie detector who uses body language and other psychological tics to tell if people are being deceptive. And we the viewers play a group of people who have to sit through sixty minutes of this stuff, of actors clearly acting and reciting words they’ve learned from a script, and try to pretend we’re enjoying it.

So unriveting is this show, in fact, that, leaving it to play in the background, I skip the visuals and only half-listen to the dialogue while switching to another screen and writing emails.  

I don’t know about you, but I’m finding dramas like this harder and harder to focus on these days. And it’s all the fault of reality television.

Such is the pervasive, even insidious presence of reality TV in our lives, from the good ones like Amazing Race  and Kathy Griffin, Life on the D-List (and even those are contrived to a certain extent), right down to the lowest of the low, such as I Want to be a Hilton, Keeping up with the Kardashians, Hey Paula, Kid Nation, and Sons of Hollywood – clunkers all – that anything less than real people on screen yelling at each other and facing constant rejection and upset in real environments (mostly Hollywood mansions), is starting to seem phony and dull and performed.

I’ve said this before, but actors need to watch out, because they’re going to be surplus to requirements soon. In fact, a word to Rachel Bilson and Hayden Christensen about their wedding: I hope someone’s filming it, my dears. You may need the income.

Luckily for us, TV networks are in a recession too, and since top dramas cost around three mill an episode to produce, and reality shows cost…I don’t have an exact figure in front of me, but let’s say fifteen bucks. And also since recent tentpole dramas that were supposed to be huge – Christian Slater’s My Own Worst Enemy, for instance – tanked badly in the ratings, the focus is shifting away from scripted tosh to less costly ways to keep us entertained. Or if not entertained exactly, then at least preoccupied, diverting our minds from how this ghastly economy is impacting our lives, which nobody wants to think about.

Anyway, according to ABC News today, when the fall season rolls around in September, one of the networks’ prime responses to the deepening recession will be a raft of programs about…the deepening recession.

Kelsey Grammer’s in one of them. He plays a Wall Street financier who becomes a nanny. Totally believable, that. Another is about young investment bankers who quit the world of finance to become something else. What that might be is unspecified – though unemployed and living under a bridge is probably the most realistic option. And there’s a sitcom about a Detroit car worker who’s down on his luck. Of course, if he were to move out of Detroit, his luck would change immediately and he would be a lot less depressed, it’s a terrible city. But I don’t think that’s part of the story arc.

So you get where I’m going here. TV is downsizing. Even NBC, to save money among other things, is about to replace its entire 10PM drama strand five days a week with Jay Leno’s new talk show. A bad idea? Sure. And believe me, I’ve told them a thousand times in my dreams. But one we’re stuck with. 

Interestingly, though, the crisis we see playing out on TV is a reflection, not only in content but actual substance, of what’s going on out here where it matters, in the real world.

Hard times like these are good for us. They’re cleansing. The tide of prosperity has gone out and it’s going to stay out for a while. That forces us to reevaluate our priorities. Losing your savings, being laid off from a job, getting thrown out of a house you couldn’t really afford because you overextended – all of that is traumatic and a major shock to the system, natch, but believe it or not, it’s a good thing. It helps you regroup, prioritize, clean out the cobwebs. You’re compelled to ask yourself, the way the networks are doing: what job do I really want? Where would I like to live in future, now that this unwanted and unexpected choice has been thrust upon me? Am I in the right relationship? Have I been happy up to this point or do I need to make changes? Was it wise to put Jay Leno on at 10PM, given how bland, uneventful, and anemic his talk show usually is?

All of this is a vital step towards a better life. So that when the tide comes back in again, and it will, you’re ready for the next stage. That’s why there’s no point complaining about it, or getting depressed, or, worse, taking it out on society by shooting up a post office or shopping mall, or whatever your plans were for today. Instead, get a grip. Make the big changes now, and when everything stabilizes again, you’ll be glad we all went through this. Trust me.

By that time, of course, Lie to Me will have been canned, as will that Kelsey Grammer sitcom probably, reality shows will represent 95% of all TV output, and the only memory our children’s children will have of these gruesome, difficult, depressing times will be that Jay Leno will still be on at 10PM and nobody can figure out a way to get rid of him.   

Lie to Me gets two magic carpets out of five for being slick. Otherwise…

TV Swami – he say NO.  

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