David Cronenberg

I had to watch the Golden Globes. The've made their irrelevancy relevant and it's like a car crash, you just have to look even though you know what happened and what the outcome will be.

So I watched, to swoon a little over my imaginary boyfriend, Viggo Mortensen; the man who holds an EZPass for the express lane to my loins.

Beauty and the beasts. Isn't he dreamy con ese tajo que me voy a devorar ... yummy yummy goo.

Anyhow, this year I officially turn old; and the older I get, the louder my dirty old woman self grows. I had me a couple of molester moments with Drew Barrymore and Scarlett Johansen.

Ahhh Drew, Drew. Those tatas, trapped in that dress where the punkest most "fuck you" statement of the whole night. Look at them! They're gorgeous! I would so totally go lesbian on her.

Then there's that hussy Scarlett. She's half my age, but girl, I'd so rock her craddle:

Look at those babies. They hang exactly where they ought to be. Natural, free-range, totally organic breasts.

While we are at it, an honorable mention to Queen Latifah who underwent breast REDUCTION surgery years ago. She's looking hot these days, although I hear I don't have to go all lesbian on her because she is already there. Hell-yeah?!

BTW, I missed Isaac Mizrahi's on-camera molestation of Scarlett's kachangas. I love me some Isaac. When I dream of a gay husband (and I do, I honestly want to have one of those), I dream of him being like Isaac. I mean, I'd have a hot guy and a mad fabulous apartment and closet. I'd never have to buy anything because he'd spend his days and nights just shopping for me ... and that's so hot!

Last two bits :

Isn't she a bit overexposed? I love Evan Longoria's dress, but as a latina, I am going to be honest, that white looking nose really bothers the shit out of me. Then again, she's one hermana that likes them black and big. Go Eva! Just don't go spreading your tales of brazilian waxes and dildos all over the place like that. Open a blog girl! Get that stuff on a blog!

Last but not least, my imaginary mother, Catherine Deneuve. The woman is over sixty and I think it's criminal she's looking this gorgeous :

My long-time readers know I'm a Puerto Rican bi-racial mutt : my mom is white and my dad is black. When I was a kid, I'd fantasize I was the Mandingo kid of Catherine Deneuve. And yes, I did see the movie and with my mom, none the less.

Now you know why I am so screwed up.

My imaginary boyfriend Viggo Mortensen, along with David Cronenberg will be at the Walter Reade Theater to discuss their new movie A history of violence. How can I not be there! I mean, ok, so he does not know I am his girlfriend, but still ... couldn't someone send me a ticket (they've been sold out since forever).

Then there's tomorrow.

Umberto Eco, one of my academia heroes (Ms. thing used to be a literature professor), is receiving the Kenyon Review Award for Literary Achievement. Did I get invited? Not even to the reception.

So people, if you want to make la negra happy, never ever forget to invite her to an event where either her imaginary boyfriend or one of her literature heroes are going to attend.

Uh-oh ... see what's happening ... I'm pouting. I'm pouting people ... I'M POUTING!

Ah, sheez, there goes the tough girl look. It's going to take me all night to get it back on.

Pooh.