Let me get one thing out of the way, again. Last night on Miami Social, when Katrina asked the question "I don't understand, how can a gay guy be masculine?" she seemed genuinely confused and I could see her thinking "this must be one of Michael's tricks, right?" I think she needs to stop hanging around Ariel.
Anyway, I actually found myself laughing out loud during this episode, though this time at my own wit. I found the sensation strange because I am not used to watching my real self on television. Sure, I have had my own news gigs here in Miami and provided some witty banter for CNN in the past, but that's different than watching me be me. And if you ask me what I think my best quality is, I would never reply that it's my sense of humor. That's like saying your eyes are your best physical feature.
Describing yourself as "funny" is reserved for fat girls, or at least that's what our popular culture has taught us. As if telling jokes can make up for the poundage. Case in point, Khloe Kardashian, who was just on the cover of Life & Style Weekly telling the world she lost 20 pounds in four weeks and, whew, she is relived because she was "sick of being the fat and funny one." Well at least now she can attend Ariel's cabanas parties with her sister.
So maybe I am funny. Some critics throw me in reverse in the popular culture time capsule such as at the Los Angeles Times, which wrote that I lead the Miami Social weekly Gansevoort gatherings with my Addison Dewitt meets Paul Lynde humor; now I know why.
Could it be that the things I say Tuesday night will be the joke at the water cooler on Wednesday morning? My laugh out loud moment was when I watched myself say "Well you can be a whore and still do a lot of good," and then laugh at my own quick-witted comeback.
Of course Ariel took great insult to me calling his "friend" Kim Kardashian a bad name, especially after all the great attributes he rattled off about her -- one of the least convincing being that she is more famous for being a socialite from L.A. than making an old, tired sex tape.
Anyway, after a careless debate of Kim's resume, Ariel is quick to tell me that Kim is truly a philanthropist. Listen, as a former entertainment journalist, I know one well-oiled machine of our time -- the one where "celebrity wranglers" hustle C and B list stars on the red carpets trying to garner some sort of media coverage for their sometimes desperate clients. Kim Kardashian is one such "wranglee."
So when Ariel suggests that we all must go to the "Make A Wish Foundation" because she is hosting, I automatically have my guard up, on all fronts. (Besides, I donate my time to the Diabetes Research Institute -- but that's not fun or funny, so skip.)
When I used the word "whore," I didn't mean it in the traditional sense. I think we can all agree that the word has morphed from women that take money for sexual favors to those whose moral compass is askew just enough to make them questionable.
(By the way, stop your chuckling. I already accept the fact that I am a whore of sorts--somewhere in between the traditional and modern sense. Did you know prostitution was common in ancient Israel, despite being tacitly forbidden by Jewish Law? And within the religion of Canaan, significant portions of temple prostitutes were male? This is a reincarnation bitch.)
Take George's girlfriend Lina who arrived back from her Primary job showing condominiums, as she tells it, and that it wasn't "vacation(s)" as she calls it. I am beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that her secondary job still has something to do with her primary job, specifically, the bedrooms of said properties.
"It was just a little lie," she tells George of her trip to St. Bart's (she was supposed to be in NYC) where she was entertaining a client. "I have to make a living," she continues, with the arrogance that only a whore has when they are defending themselves, which proves my theory that the only people who really get offended when you call them a whore are whores.
But Lina means well. I know she does. Because we are somewhat acquainted in life and I think after watching herself on television she has realized that those white patent leather shoes with the mesh tops really do have to go. She showed up on the red carpet this week during Mercedes Benz Swim Suit Week in a very lady like welcoming pink dress that was, gasp, below her knees. I am surprised she knew how to walk.
This week Ariel also had a "fashion show" in Miami. And I'm sure there were lots of important people in his audience, just like the group he brought to yet another "Hardy Party."
"I have some high fashion types coming," he told Hardy. What? You didn't see Marc, Kate and Zac on Miami Social? But Ariel was upset about this small crowd, because there were a "few ugly ones" and, damn it, he couldn't do anything about it.
But I didn't see any ugly people in the crowd. Only pretty people, which reminds me I need to get back to my vacuous, narcissistic, vapid, self-indulgent ways and hit the gym, work on my tan, and get Botox because I am losing the "Which Miami Guy Packs The Most Heat" poll on Bravotv.com and that really, really irks me.
Until next week.
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