And our big cartoon heads.
Darlings, our new best friend Debra Bass of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch just wrote a lovely summary and review of the book, along with an interview she conducted with us. It’s always gratifying when people get what we were going for. Some excerpts:
“An unexpected pair of irreverent cultural observers are reshaping the way we look at celebrity.
With razor-sharp wit and a keen sense of humor, Tom Fitzgerald and Lorenzo Marquez of TomandLorenzo.com preach a slightly different point of view from their popular cult blogging pulpit.”
“‘Life is all about resisting the impulse to believe the world when it tries to tell you who you are,’ the dynamic duo explain, and they do that in this book by examining how celebrities convince themselves and everyone else that they’re special.”
“The duo dissect the nature of celebrity in fine hilarious detail, including adultery as marketing tool, foreign babies as props and the dubious glamour of professionally begging for free clothing and accessories.”
Fitzgerald and Marquez, a pair of 40-something partners in blogging and life, have made a comfortable life talking about celebrity fashion full time, but they do not worship at the altar of celebrity transcendence. They will gush over a red carpet gown in a golden hue with beaded detail, but they don’t think that qualifies a person to give you political, religious or relationship advice.
Celebrities are people not deities, so respond accordingly. And though we should all aspire to have a life worth emulating, some of us, including many celebrities, will fall far short of that goal.
In small ways, we are all celebrities (we all have a status among friends, family and the social media republic) Fitzgerald and Marquez reason, so their book is filled with clever affirmations seeking to impart this celebrity wisdom: “The stars have entire armies of people dedicated to telling them how fabulous they are every day of their lives. You have a mirror. Get in front of it and be your own publicist, darling.”
This isn’t bingo. This is a bullseye. From Chapter 3, Attention Whoring:
“For ladies with big breasts and not much left in the way of shame, nothing succeeds like walking on the beach in a bikini and acting surprised by the phalanx of photographers called there by her publicist. A truly low-level star in this situation will inevitably stop acting surprised within the first ten seconds and start posing as if she were Miss America, kicking the waves and laughing; leaning over and squeezing her boobs together and laughing. Doing cartwheels and laughing. The pretense that this was anything but staged and set up will be abandoned rather quickly in hopes that entertainment bloggers feature the pictures prominently within the next day. The normal attire for this type of picture is a string bikini, optimally in white, in case you want to get a little demure nipplage going on once the top gets wet.”
Ladies and Gentlemen, Miss Courtney Stodden, Attention Whore Maxima:
Acting her age! Courtney Stodden is carefree as she shows off her cartwheeling skills… on the beach in a bikini
“The cartwheel began with Courtney plotting out her runway, before launching herself head first into the sand below to perform the childhood trick.
Once the stunt was over, she beamed with pride and flung her hair back, turning to make sure the shutterbugs definitely got it on record.
At one point, Courtney kneeled down in the soggy sand by the shore and proceeded to make mud pies as she chatted on her bright pink cell phone.”
We don’t know if we should be pleased for nailing the description so perfectly or because Courtney Stodden clearly bought our book and is using it as a career guide.
Picture: The Daily Mail
If we had to pick the very best thing about the release of our first book, it would have to be the opportunity to get out in the world and meet the Bitter Kittens en masse. Each appearance we’ve done so far has been so fun and energetic and full of love. We could do it every day.
Unfortunately, we can’t, but we’ve been hustling like crazy to get more dates and cities added. Please note that we are working on more as we speak, but for now, here’s where we’ll be and when:
Tuesday, April 8
Barnes & Noble
189 The Grove Drive
Los Angeles, CA 90036
Wednesday, April 9
1644 Haight Street
San Francisco CA 94117
Thursday, April 10
Barnes & Noble
55 Old Orchard Center
Skokie, IL 60077
L.A., San Fran and Chicago Kittens better come out and REPREZENT. Ask the DC, NY, Philly and Minnesota Kittens about it. We’re pretty sure they all had a blast when they came out.
And please don’t be upset if you’re not near the above cities. Like we said, we’re working on more dates, in totally different areas of the country, we might add, and will hopefully be bringing you more news on them shortly. The more people who come out to these signings, the more signings we get to add to the roster. Pay it forward, LA, San Fran and Chicago kittens. The BKs in other parts of the country are relying on you. No pressure or anything.
Can’t wait to get out and see y’all!
From Chapter 2: The Casting Couch is a Sectional:
“‘People who are married to or sleeping with a colorful B- to D-list star who hasn’t had a hit in at least a decade’ is another genre of reality TV that shoots loud-mouthed attention whores out at the public like cannon fire. They’re all entitled types living in the tackiest homes you could imagine, sashaying in front of the cameras with all the airs of a silent screen star.”
From Chapter 15: Acts of Contrition:
“The Repentant Celebrity subgenre of reality TV involves the star and his extended family airing all of their dysfunction in front of the camera. The hope is that they will be seen as “colorful” instead of the usual “sociopathic” assessments thrown their way.”
“Rico Suave” is making a return to pop culture, this time in the form of a new VH1 docu series.
Gerardo Mejía, the Latin singer and rapper whose 1990s hit single “Rico Suave” rose to the top of the charts, switched gears to become a music exec and settled down to have a family with his beauty queen wife, Kathy — all of which serves as fodder for his new reality series, tentatively titled “Suave Says.”
The series will follow Mejía as he passes the music torch to his children and manages a home life with his wife, son Jaden, niece Lexi and daughters Bianca and Nadia. The episodes will highlight the struggles of raising children who hope to follow in Mejía’s musical footsteps.
“Gerardo and his crazy, musical family truly break the reality TV mold,” said Susan Levison, VH1’s exec VP of original programming and production. “We knew we had our next buzz-worthy series as soon as he walked through our door. Plus, he still has those abs.”
“I can’t wait for VH1’s audience to meet my wild family,” Mejía added. “We’re like Ricky and Lucy but with a handful of crazy kids trying to run my casa.”
Do celebrities ever realize just how repetitive they can be? No wonder they’re always clawing for attention. How else would we tell them apart?
Darlings, here are some things to look for while we’re all tuning into Gay Super Bowl pre-game show tonight, otherwise known as the Oscars red carpet. All of this is from Chapter 5 of the book, titled, simply and appropriately enough, The Red Carpet. It doesn’t all apply exactly to the Oscars specifically, but you can bet you’ll see some of the silly vignettes and behaviors mentioned here play across your screens tonight as Ryan Seacrest struggles to form sentences:
“The “I Fucking LOVE This Person Here!” This is the newly dating couple, newly married couple, or the couple who everyone says is about to break up. She will be fully decked out and showing considerable skin, but not so much as to give the impression she’s looking to impress anyone else in the room. No, it’s sexy wifey getups featuring boob but not a lot of leg. Heels, but nothing that’ll cause a nosebleed. Makeup, but not disco-ready face. He, of course, will be wearing boots, jeans, and something that makes his shoulders look broad. If it’s the Oscars, a tuxedo. You can expect to see her pressing her entire body up against his. They will whisper things to each other as if this moment of screaming and flashbulbs is the best time for one of them to turn to the other to express his or her devotion. She will throw her head back to the ceiling and laugh, exposing every one of her expensive teeth. He’ll smile devilishly over his shoulder, as if to wink at all the photographers who are frantically hoping he pops wood while they have their cameras on him. They’ll make sure to look deep into each other’s eyes constantly, as if there weren’t a wall of fifty shrieking social misfits taking hundreds of pictures a minute. It’s all about making sure that everyone sees how insanely happy and sexually fulfilled you are, sort of like going out somewhere you know your ex will be and making sure you’re going to look fabulous when he sees you.
The “I’m Single Again!” The conventional Hollywood wisdom holds that when someone goes through a breakup, she becomes less attractive to the public (and therefore, less likely to be paid obscene amounts of money), which, as you can imagine, is a fear among celebritykind greater than the average person’s fear of terrorists and cancer. In order to combat even the hint of an idea that the starlet in question is less than the most desirable of all women, any recently single female on the red carpet will be sporting lots of leg, lots of bronzer, lots of big fuck-me hair, six-inch heels strapped to the feet by only the thinnest strip of leather, red nails, smoky eyes, and earrings that weight about three pounds each. Panty flashing as one gets out of one’s limo is optional, as are panties themselves. Nipples are considered déclassé, but it can be quite the career enhancer if the world gets a glimpse of your vagina, so long as one doesn’t return to that well too often. The men in this situation wear jeans, boots, and a shirt that makes them look broad shouldered and small waisted.
The Nominee. For the star who’s made a career-defining move and is on everyone’s list to get all kind of awards for it. In order to sell the idea that she is worthy of such an award, she must, bizarrely, become the award itself. This is when formerly quirky actresses shed every last micron of fat, blast every single imper- fection off their face, envelop each strand of hair on their head with color-enhancing polyurethane and other such shine-inducing chemical compounds, and deploy an array of metallic gowns the likes of which haven’t been seen since Cleopatra had her own dress budget. To win the Oscar, one must become the Oscar. It’s all very Zen, if you ignore the frantic, clawing ambition that fuels it.
The men up for an award will wear suits with sneakers and start shaving once a week, whether they need to or not.
The “I’m Getting My Act Together.” The classic ensemble of house arrest bracelet, low-key makeup, and religious cult hair. Glasses optional. No jewelry except a small cross on a chain (non-Christian stars in this predicament are advised just to stay home or go into hiding), and the heels should be demure, which in the entertainment industry means no higher than four inches.
The Bad Boy. For the male star who secretly wishes he worked construction and rode with a gang instead of having to spend forty-five minutes a day taking care of his skin, an hour on his hair, two on his abs, and if it’s a working day, another hour in a makeup chair. This look consists of carefully faded (especially in the crotch) jeans, scuffed Italian boots, a carefully cultivated sneer, a T-shirt that costs more than your monthly electric bill, and sun- glasses that cost more than the down payment on your car.
The Bad Girl. For the former small-town gal raised by Evangelical Christians who’s now headlining hits, this consists of ratty hair in an array of colors, way too much eye makeup, black nail polish, a sullen facial expression, boots, and a gown worth more than your annual salary.
The “Yo, I’m Straight. No, Really.” See “The Bad Boy” and “The Bad Girl.”
The “I Starved Myself for This!” Whether the result of an eating disorder, a drug or alcohol addiction, plastic surgery, an upcoming part, or a contract with a weight-loss company, sometimes a star loses weight at a pace no sane person would consider healthy. This is when the red carpet becomes all about image rehab. In this case, the image is “MY BODY FUCKING ROCKS,” even if it actually doesn’t. Unfortunately, this is one instance in which the stars really are just like everyone else, because they all wind up making the same mistake so many of the newly thin make: clothes so tight they can barely walk or breathe. This will be a painful period of sagging skin and shoving into ensembles meant for much smaller people. You can expect to see camel toe and some very depressed boobs during this dark time. It’s a shame, because you would think the stylists and designers who lend them their free clothes would want to make sure they put them in the correct size, but nine times out of ten, a ladystar loses a ton of weight precisely because the fashion industry rewards thinner people with a greater array of items to choose from (what a shock), and the only criterion a ladystar needs to fulfill in order to get the couture is she has to be able to get it on. Whether it looks good on her or not isn’t really the issue. So what if it gives the wearer uniboob or back rolls? It’s far more important that everyone know she’s A-list enough and thin enough to score a free Chanel couture gown when she wants one.
The “For ME?!?” This one’s usually reserved for perky television personalities or much older celebrities who don’t walk red carpets all that much and tend to get overwhelmed by all the lights and flashes. They hit the step-and-repeat with an expres-sion like they just walked into their own surprise party. Lots of grinning and blowing of kisses, with the occasional open- mouthed over-the-shoulder pose, as if they were standing facing a wall of corporate logos and just happened to turn around to notice fifty photographers. These pictures will remain largely unpurchased and appear in very few places, but on the occasions the public notices them, they love them like wacky aunts at a wedding.
“And as if all the theatrical vignettes and big money on the line weren’t enough,stars are expected to execute a form of product placement choreography and remember a series of steps and poses designed to make them look taller, thinner, or healthier than they actually are, while also ensuring that the items lent to them for the occasion make it into every photograph, no matter the angle. The result is some of the most bizarre and unnatural poses a human body can perform. Picture a hungry starlet in a sample size and six-inch heels two sizes too large, expected to stand with her legs crossed (so as to elongate them), her hand on one hip (so as to let people know where it actually is), and the other hand either up near her borrowed ear- rings or holding her bag conspicuously in front of her, label facing out. If she’s doing an over-the-shoulder pose, then the bag has to cover her ass, label facing out, and the other hand needs to be placed on the opposite shoulder, so that either the earrings or the ring (preferably both) is prominently displayed next to her beaming, sandblasted face. She’s not taking an unusually well-dressed stroll into the theater; she’s executing an Olympic- level gymnastics routine, all in service to herself and the scores of people in the shadows behind her who are spending tons of money to make her look good for however long it takes her to make it inside.
The men will just put their hands in their pockets and fondle themselves in front of the cameras because they know they can.”
Darlings, call them out as you see them tonight!
Excerpts from Chapter 10, The Epic Breakup:
“A celebrity breakup of any real value simply must play out in as public a manner as possible in order for anyone to benefit from it.”
“These are the breakups that require press releases, which, like so many celebrity press releases, will ask that everyone reading the press release respect their privacy. The smart ones will manage the situation tightly, but the messy ones will do everything within their power to play out every private bit of the relationship and aftermath for the public, who will be grateful and titillated.”
“Whatever sets it off, one or both sides of the former relationship will start dropping a whole series of bombshells about it.”
“Each side will deploy a small army of friends, employees, and coworkers to drop rumors into the gossip mill about the other side.”
“It’s warfare via publicist, and it’s very effective in getting the public to choose sides. It’s like any breakup where each person has to figure out who gets which friends, which cat, or custody of the kids, except it’s the public they’re fighting over. We’re the friends, the cats, and the kids in this tug of war.”
ROBIN THICKE: I HAVEN’T GIVEN UP ON PAULA
“Sources connected with the singer tell TMZ … Robin desperately wants to save his marriage. We’re told he’s resuming his tour on Thursday where he’s performing in Washington D.C., but he will NOT go out on the town — something he liked doing in the past.
We’re told he wants to convince Paula he can change and be a good husband. The surreptitious ass-grabbing is a thing of the past.
Darlings, let the battle commence.
From Chapter 3: Attention Whoring
“Celebrities are like Tinker Bell in a lot of ways, partially because of the similarities in their waist size and likelihood of becoming irritating after a time, but mostly because they tend to fade away if you don’t clap hard enough. To a star, attention is mother’s milk, life’s blood, and payday all wrapped into one. Many of the upper- tier stars will deny it, but every celebrity knows that the only way to remain a celebrity is to make sure people are forming opinions about you.”
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Alec Baldwin:
More attention whoring in that one cover than a whole squadron of limos dispensing panty-free starlets, darlings. He’s a pro; you’ve gotta give him that.
As told by the Kittens who braved the elements to attend it:
— Beth Talisman (@U2Nurse) February 23, 2014
— Christy Dechaine (@ChristyDechaine) February 23, 2014
— Kittie Fahey (@kittyscratches) February 23, 2014
— Todd O'Dowd (@toddodowd) February 23, 2014
— Kittie Fahey (@kittyscratches) February 23, 2014
We can’t tell you how much fun we had this weekend. Having never been to the Twin Cities area and thus, having never been to the Mall of America, we walked around wide-eyed and open-mouthed at:
a) The JAWDROPPING amount of snow all y’all live with. Seriously. We had to wrap our minds around the concept of “stale snow.” In our neck of the woods, it snows, the snow melts, and then later, it snows again. It doesn’t snow over the last snow, which is on top of the snow before that, etc. You Minnesota Kittens have snow upon snow upon snow.
b) The sheer scale of the Mall of America and how it serves as an actual vacation spot for families; an oasis of food, shopping, and even a freaking amusement park, all enclosed inside this massive space, keeping out the cold. We dropped some bucks. We’re all about supporting the local economy. Especially when the stores are great and there’s no sales tax on clothes. Just sayin’.
c) The fact that many of our kittens braved the aforementioned elements and even drove for hours and hours to see us. Not to pit kitten against kitten or anything, because we know that for the Philly, NYC, and DC readings, plenty of people had to haul ass from far away to come and see us, but some of the Mall of America Kittens drove as much as FOUR HOURS IN THE SNOW to come out, hear our cartoon voices, and then get maybe a minute, tops, to speak with us personally (we wish it was longer, but lines need to move) before driving back. That is truly astonishing to us – and humbling like you wouldn’t believe. We don’t take that kind of dedication lightly.
So a HUGE “Thank you” to all y’all Snow Kittens. You honor us and we’re immensely grateful for that. Plus you were all so fun! And we got to meet and chat with Bill Nye The Science Guy about bow ties, which is both awesome and surreal at the same time.
More tour dates coming, dolls.
Darlings, where would we be without offensively ostentatious celebrity weddings? Whatever would we have to talk about?
From Chapter 7, “Symbiotic Rebranding, aka ‘Marriage’”:
“Imagine the royal courts of Europe around the sixteenth century, a time when the church wielded enormous power over the lives of the aristocracy and marriages were granted or annulled based on how willing several parties were to go to war. Now, replace all the princes and princesses, kings and queens with recording artists, reality stars, and actors, and all the bishops, cardinals, and popes with publicists, paparazzi, and high-ranking entertainment industry executives. Celebrity weddings, with their multiple competing agendas, loads of money on the line, massive public interest, and monumental displays of ego, are like the court of Henry VIII, except with spray tans and much tinier dresses, movie deals and recording contracts instead of wars and trade issues.”
“This will be the event of the year. Think fashion runway, stage show performance. Think Avant-garde. Think nothing like you’ve ever seen. Kanye’s saying ‘This is a concept event based on a wedding,’” the insider recently dished.
The source added, “He’s sometimes even forgetting to involve Kim in the meetings with the wedding planner. She feels like the whole thing might be spinning out of control. It’s just insane. Kanye has basically billed it as breaking the boundaries of what to expect when it comes to a wedding.”
Oh, just frikking get married and shut up about it. “Breaking the boundaries.” PLEASE.