Flimsy Fauxhan

November 30, 2006

Perhaps you might remember her from the first season of Who Wants to Seduce My Little Sister? or the Bachelor: Season 17, or, then again, maybe not. And if the latter is the case, Miss Fauxhan would like to change all that. And if she has her way, this pint-sized upstart up and comer will be on her way up the proverbial stripper pole of the young celebutante scene in no time.

Just call me Faux Spice!” she giggles to the papparazi (see photo at left) as she exits her car (a cherry-red race car with monster truck tires, so pimped-out that sources are quoted as saying that they could not readily ascertain its make; nevertheless, it has been reported, in a Yoga Chickie exclusive, that a friend of Paris Hilton’s heard Paris telling another friend of Paris’s about “Faux’s Hot Wheels“. On the other hand, we’re told that Paris thinks that it’s hot to refer to everything and anything as “hot”).

These days, Faux has been making the scene at Hyde and Tryst on a nightly basis, “not just for the photo ops, irregardless of the fact that there supposably are, like, so many,” as she says. When she’s not dancing on tables with Paris and Lindsay Lohan, she’s dining with Nicole Richie at Chateau Marmont and Taco Bell (“Nicole, like, got her, like, intestines back from her doctor, or whatever, and I think that’s like totally brave of her, you know, to digest food and all. You ROCK Nicole!” Faux enthuses.

Of course there’s that rift with Britney to contend with. Faux gamely volunteers that she’s making amends with Britney Spears, “totally” denying those nasty rumors alleging that Faux is the reason that Britney and Kevin Federline broke up. “What, you didn’t hear the rumor?” Faux shrieks when this reporter confesses not knowing of a Faux-Kevin coupling. “Well,” she continues, “Word to all you bizotches, the rumors about Kev and me, yeah, theyz totally out there, and I am totally denying all of it, so don’t even think about asking me about it if you don’t want your interviews to end right there. Peace, love, the Gap, baby, ‘sall good.” Faux then tries to make that sideways peace-sign hand gesture that you see in all the Gap ads, but when she realizes that neither her hands nor her fingers articulate, she giggles, her green eyes flashing, unblinking. “‘Sall good,” she smiles.

For what it’s worth, when asked to comment on the alleged rumor of the alleged infidelity of her erstwhile husband, Britney Spears denied that Faux played any role in the demise of her marriage whatsoever. A Britney insider reports overhearing from another source that when asked about Faux’s relationship with Federline, Britney replied, “Faux? No [bleep]ing way she’d do that, ya’all. Girlfriend’s a doll!”

Last week under the tutelage of her friend and newly hired life coach, Paris Hilton, Faux did some serious credit card damage at Fred Segal, where Paris helped her pick out the fabulous faux (“haha, geddit?!” Faux squeals with glee) leopard print bag and matching micro-mini, each emblazoned with a sweet looking pussy, designed by up and coming designer, V-J-J. The gold blazer and matching headband are vintage Mattel. The plastic riding boots are by, who else, the sartorial choice of all of young Hollywood: Hoebag. One might wonder why Faux didn’t invest in a pair of panties, but one who wondered would have to admit to not being clued into the rite of passage for young girls whose claim to fame is a claim to fame: the panty-free crotch-shot papparazzi-invitational money-shot. The crotch shot sans panties has become as much of a trademark of Paris’s life-coaching services as heroin, crystal meth and gastric band surgery have become trademarks of Rachel Zoe’s services as a stylist to the stars.

“Everyone who’s anyone has done the Vagina Monologues,” Faux explains, “Well, that’s how Paris explained it to me. Besides, it’s also an opportunity to show the world that I’m worldly, you know, Brazil and all. Plus, Paris said that all the other girls do it, and that if I wanna be friends with her and them, I have to do it too. I was like, Paris, do you realize that I don’t actually have a vagina? She was all, like, ‘whatever, I don’t even know if Britney has one since she had to have a caesar salad dissection.’ And so I figured, I just better go on and give the people what they want.”

So, there you have it. Pictured here, we see that Faux knows how to keep hers cool, er, keep her cool.

Faux’s just shootin’ the breeze.

So out she’s in.

Matching her outerwear to her underwear.

Letting the cat out of the bag.

Throwing caution to the wind.

Proving she’s a natural redhe……

…oh, never mind.


And this is what we do when we are home from school

November 29, 2006

We read deliciously foul tabloid smut and wonder whether there is a rule written somewhere that one must stop wearing panties in order to be allowed to hang with Paris Hilton?


Tile 8, Article 23, Paragraph 42: The Sick Child Exemption

November 29, 2006

Notwithstanding the requirement set forth in the foregoing paragrphs that Ashtangini shall make haste to the Shala immediately upon medical release from Plastic Surgeon who performed surgery to Ashtangini’s breasts (and/or nose), Ashtangini is exempt therefrom provided that, and only to the extent that, if either one or both of Ashtangini’s children (or in the case of Ashtangini with more than two children, one or more) has a fever of over 101 degrees Farenheit (or the equivalent in Celcius) and therefore must stay home from school, or if for any other legal and valid reason, Ashtangini must keep one or more of her children home from school, including, but without limitation, vomiting, lice infestation, cough and the like, then Ashtangini shall be exempt from attending the Shala for the duration of the child’s remainder at home, it being understood that Ashtangini shall practice at home, it being further understood that practice is defined by the parameters of Article 1, Paragraph 1, to include stepping on the mat and doing whatever.

Catch my drift?


And so it was said,

November 29, 2006

“Go forth! Do Yoga!”

And I did.

And I will!

And I will stop eating at night (no, I will never stop eating dinner)!

And I will stop being a slug!

Now, Brian is sitting next to me, complaining and whining that I should also write, “And I will stop being Brian and Adam’s mother,” which I think is fundamentally unfair, since I do my yoga in the morning, AFTER I take the kids to school. So, Brian? What gives?

Brian responds: It feels like she is doing yoga all the time! She is always talking about it. I don’t like it.


Brian responds: What is Phhhhtttewwwwwwpp? How do you pronounce it?

It won’t be long now before my 9 year old has his own blog, I suppose.


Alyssa Lies

November 28, 2006

This is one of the saddest songs I have ever ever ever heard, ever. And I don’t usually fall for the sentimental bullshit. This stuff is crazy sad. I dare you to listen to the whole thing without bawling.


Speed blogging

November 27, 2006

I have about three minutes, but I have about three thousand thoughts, and so I am going to attempt to speed blog it, the blog equivalent of a hit and run.

I did some work study at Bikram today since I have a strong aversion to paying for yoga classes (Sir might be flattered to know that it is a rare rare thing for me to be willing to pay for yoga, given my access to free classes in several excellent yoga studios and gyms), and man, was I bored out of my mind. And hot. I hate working. I have to face it. I hate having to be in a particular place at a particular time, subject to criticism or praise from bosses. Especially that last part. It’s just ooky. I hate myself when I feel the need to kiss ass. And although filling in on a work study shift hardly creates a need for ass kissing, still, it made me remember the days of “ass kiss or perish”. Not a pleasant memory, and this is coming from someone who was fairly successful at the whole ass kissing scenario back when it mattered.

Subbing yoga classes does not require ass kissing, or not nearly as much as a permanent gig, with all of the attendant insecurities of head-counting and hoping for a following to develop. Talk about ooky. I like to teach for teaching’s sake, not for the sake of surviving as a teacher. Thus, except under special circumstances (e.g., Pink Lotus Yoga), I’m much better as “guest star”, as Samantha Jones would say.

What else was I going to talk about? Oh yes. Tomorrow I have my seven week appointment with Dr. Salzberg. I am sooooooo nervous that he is going to ask me to wait another five weeks to get back to practicing. This non-practicing practice is making me insane. I am positively cranky. If you don’t believe me, read my bitchy (unintentionally!!) comments on Linda’s blog. Linda, I meant no disrespect, but I am pretty sure you know that!

I just gots to practice.

OK, that’s all I had time for. And to think, I had such lofty thoughts about such diverse topics as motherhood, Bret Easton Ellis and the Lyndsay Lohan death-watch, stirring around in my addled brain. They will simply have to wait for another day.


I hate to have to do this

November 27, 2006

but sometimes I just have to have to have to talk about the stuff I read in the gossip rags. Like the number one gossip-raggy story on my mind now: Nicole Richie. If you stay away from the rags, then you may actually not realize that Nicole Richie has gone from scarily scarily underweight to just really really skinny in a matter of weeks and that there has been lots of talk about whether she had previously undergone some form of gastric bypass/lap band surgery that made her drop an enormous and unnecessary amount of weight, which surgery had now been reversed.

I’m going on record to say that I am absolutely, 100 percent believing the hype.

To all of those who say that Nicole could not possibly have gotten such surgery because she didn’t “qualify” (because those who want the surgery must be morbidly obese or at least 100 pounds overweight in order to get a doctor to do the surgery)….to all of those naive believers in the notion that all doctors operate on some higher plane of ethics than other human beings in heeding their “first do no harm” oath….I laugh. A hearty hahahaha.

I scoff at the very idea that while a lawyer can be bribed, I mean paid, to defend a hardened criminal despite his belief in that criminal’s guilt, a doctor would never compromise his ethics by performing unnecessary surgery on a patient willing to pay beaucoup bucks. For proof, I submit to you Exhibit A, Dr. 90210, the reality/docu-drama series on E! that shows plastic surgeons that never say “no” to anyone, no matter how insane the request. Exhibit B: The Cat Lady of Park Avenue, better known as Jocelyn Wildenstein, whose doctors willingly carved her face into that of the Lion King. Exhibit C: Michael Jackson. Exhibit D through G: men with plugs, penile enlargement surgery, vaginal rejuvenation and women with breast implants that take them to a cupsize larger than “DD”. I’ll stop there, although obviously, I could go on.

You want to tell me that there is no doctor in Beverly Hills who will perform a gastric bypass on a five-foot tall, 125 pound celebrity who wants to get down to 100 pounds? Then I want to tell you that there is no lawyer in America who would defend a mobster (and I am not counting public defenders). Of course, I also want to tell you how OJ WOULD have done it, IF he did it, and I am not saying he did. Speaking of things that may or may not have happened, how about that Holocaust? I, for one, believe that Santa Claus is real, and that he was totally responsible for it. Except for the part for which I hold the Tooth Fairy responsible.

Seriously, it would be like Katie and Tom’s wedding, by which I mean, INcredible, UNbelievable and a thing of wonder, if there were no surgeon anywhere who could be persuaded to perform such a frivolous surgery.

Gastric bypass is like anything else. It can be bought. It just can. That’s a given.

And in this case, it helps explain why Nicole was “trying” to gain weight but couldn’t and was seeing doctors about the problem. It also explains why she stayed in the hospital only for a few days immediately before her weight started to go back up.

IF Nicole did it, this is how she would have done it. She would have found someone who was willing to do it, quietly, secretly and for a lot of money.


P.S. I just remembered….when I was in the hospital for my boob and nose surgery in October, I was actually given a bed that was intended for lap band patients. It was HUGE, and it had a scale at the foot of it. Back in October, I didn’t even know what lap band was. When I asked the nurse, she giggled and said that it wasn’t for someone like me. Looking back, I just think it’s kind of funny. Me, in a lap band bed. If I were in Hollywood, perhaps it would have actually been plausible.