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What the hell happened to January? Yet another week passes. It started with The BET Celebration of Gospel with my newest Girl I Like, Joia. She’s the co-host of my show, Remixed. I suppose I should say our show. Joia, or “Big Sexy” as I like to call her, is trouble. When I met her I was in the midst of a detox. Hey I had a new show starting. The camera adds 10 lbs. Across your ass. Joia was like “That’s not gonna work” and promptly fed me. She was leaving food in my trailer! The same thing happened @ Celebration of Gospel. I was 6 days into the master cleanse and 10 lbs. lighter and J (like the bad angel on my shoulder) says, “Where we going next?” I have no resolve. It was either alcohol or food. The last time I took Joia to a gay bar, she completely upstaged me. This time we opted for Bob’s Big Boy. If you are going to diet or detox or fast you must go away. You cannot be around friends. I think for Valentine’s Day my new “whatever he is becoming” and I should go to La Costa Resort and Spa. If we can survive multiple colonics and raw food, we can survive anything.

Valentines Day is upon us. I hate V Day. It’s like NYE to me. Amateur night. Don’t prove you love me with roses and chocolates. I should get those randomly yet often anyway. And I certainly get them from rappers on the DL. Chocolates and roses are pedestrian. No, if you wanna do something for me just show up naked. And let’s have third-time-doing-it sex. I have this theory about the third time you have sex with someone. It’s when you really pull-out all the stops. The 1st time you may be drunk. Or trying too hard. So it’s foreign. The second time you are competing to see if you can do it better than the 1st. The 3rd time is when you just fucking fuck. And these are each separate times. Not the third time you do it in one night! I have actually broken up with 2 boys on Valentines day. For me it’s crazier than Xmas. Couples have to be careful around holidays because if someone wants out they will dump you before a holiday. I mean who wants to buy a Christmas present if you don’t have to? Back on point; I was seeing someone once, a very long time ago. He made an huge deal out of V Day which I hate. Strike one. He sent flowers to my work. A huge arrangement. Ghetto in it’s fabness. Everyone was bowled over. You would have thought I was a prize racehorse standing @ the finish line with that huge horseshoe of flowers around my neck. I loved that so negative 1 strike. He was still in the game. The straw that broke this thoroughbreds back however was he got tickets. “Tickets!” “I love Tickets!” says Cameron Diaz in Charlie’s Angels in response to Luke Wilson. Now he got Cameron cool tix. To Soul Train. My then beau got me tickets to see the Blue Man Group. You know that horrid threesome dipped in blue who play the drums with light sabers? The only thing worse is Cirque De Sol-Hell Naw. I hate clowns, puppets, mannequins, cat clocks w/the moving eyes, clowns, harlequin masks, clowns and blue people. Oooh and I hate a contortionist! Ugh! Hate is too strong. Those things scare me. Creep me out. I broke up with him. I had the nerve to say, “Don’t you know me at all?” He was better off. I once had a fight with a beau on Valentines Day because the gift he got me sucked. I had a pair of old school trainers that he loved. And everyone else loved. Every time I wore them peeps were like, “Where did you get your trainers?” I’d say “They’re vintage.” Which is fashion-speak for “Hell no I’m not telling you where I got these!” Well anyway my then beau loved them. So I did the research (what size shoe he wore, address to his office) mobilized my force (sent my assistant to Rogers Park) and got him the shoe. I then spent $50 bucks FedExing them to him. You see I was observant. I knew what he wanted. Now what I wanted was the Helmut Lang denim jacket with the too long sleeve that you cuffed. We spent an hour and a half in the Soho Helmut Lang boutique with me trying it on. I couldn’t justify spending $325 on a jean jacket. My then beau said “Just get you want it and V Day is coming so I’ll get it for you.” In one of the few times I’ve not been a gold digger I said no. Not because I didn’t want the jacket. But I wanted him to make it more special! You can’t just peel off a couple hundo and say “Here go buy yourself something pretty.” That makes a boy feel like a tart. Not that I’m not but @ that moment I didn’t wanna be. So here I am checking the mail room for days expecting the Helmut Lang jacket because he knew I wanted it. What I got was a cake. A vacuum sealed chocolate cake sent from someplace in Atlanta. I was pissed. I mean the damn thing was good but c’mon…A cake? What did that cost you? And no, it’s not about money it’s about you and your girlfriends (who are boys) sitting around and them asking what you got for V Day and you say, “A cake” and they are like, “A cake?” and you are like, “A cake” and they are like, “Like Little Debbie’s” and you are like, “Well more than that and it’s the thought that counts and our relationship isn’t about the bling”…and the moral of this story is if someone wants to buy you something expensive, right then and there, take it. And get the receipt. A boy has got to be practical. I hate Valentines Day. And it’s not a real holiday. Banks are open and you don’t get the day off.

So back to the week that was. Joia and I suffered through the Celebration of Gospel. The music was amazing. It was the sanctimonious, obviously-gay-but-I’m-married preachers and singers that turned my stomach. Fool yourself in your battle against homosexuality but please don’t bring a woman into it. That is disgusting. Gay men in the church in the African American community are like gay men in the military. We all know they are there. Hiding in plain sight in military and religious garb. No, drag. Military and religious drag.

I had a long week. I had 5 auditions. One of which I blew off. Who wants to go all the way to Santa Monica for anything? Though there is an amazing yoga studio in S.M., stocked with the hottest guys in Cali. I’m on hold for the “gay guy who gets dumped by his beau” role. Yippee! I really want to do a movie. And it’s an independent film. Gretchen and I were back together for one night when I co-hosted her radio show which airs on FREE FM Sunday nights @ 9 p.m. It was a fun 2 hours where we dished on American Idol and The Bachelor: Paris and Brokeback Mountain. I miss my Gretchen. She is another GIRL I LIKE. We are doing red carpet interviews @ the Musicares James Taylor Tribute on Tuesday. You can check that out on CBS.com. I didn’t go to the gym once this week. Not one time. I certainly don’t look like the guy in the reality calendar anymore. No bother, he was just skinny. I’ll re-discover my abs soon enough.

Today I did behind the scenes @ the Grammy Style Studio. It was very cool. I love traveling with a camera crew. Though I will never do another reality show, I love having what I do documented. I need to be careful with that though…I could the next Paris Hilton but it would probably come off more Jenna Lewis. So anyway the Style Studio was very cool. It was great being a correspondent for CBS. I got to meet the Pussycat Dolls, who caused a media sensation when they arrived. I’m sorry but I don’t get them. Am I the only one? Is this like Sienna Miller? You must be straight to get it. Hm mm… An open letter to the girls of PCD:

Get a new publicist. Your current one is a dick. Not very nice. Also, don’t go out without your make-up. That is all you are. You are not singers. Kelly Clarkson (though her start was shaky, she could have ended up Justin G.) is a singer. You are strippers with microphones. DONOTGETITTWISTED. You are this year’s Milli Vanilli. And we all know how that ended. Your song is this year’s Milkshake. And you can do a WHERE ARE THEY NOW on Kelis. And if I hear your song one more time I’ll hurl! You actually sang the chorus for the cameras today. Luckily I hadn’t eaten. Didn’t you release a new song? Warble it. I’m so tired of going to gay bars and seeing drunk guys, who aren’t hot, sing and gyrate to your song! I’m tired of going to straight bars and seeing drunk girls, who aren’t hot, sing and gyrate to your song. I was on the elevator going to see my lawyer last week and heard the muzak version of your song. Please stop yourselves. Do it for the children.

Ever so sincerely-

M. Reynolds

Back to the Style Studio. Randy Jackson showed up. He was wearing make-up. But so was I. He has a lot of nerve to sit by, idly, as Simon bashes the over-weight. Randy is not the skinniest guy @ the picnic. Pot, Kettle, Randy Jackson. Dave Koz is cute, smart and very sweet. Sarah Wytner is cute too. I’m sorry I couldn’t interview you but you aren’t on a CBS show. Hey I work for the man. I interviewed Tyrese, who remembered me from last we met. Tyrese is the nicest, most humble guy ever. And he is a stone cold fox. And I wanted that mauve blazer from Ted Baker that you got. But you are more famous than me. Good luck with your new album which sounds ambitious and very cool. These shenanigans, my exploits @ the Grammy Style Studio, will be up @ CBS.com on Monday. I got massively over after we finished filming. Thanks to Nikita and Debra @ Pony, Fiona @ Ted Baker and Dana Dynamite @ Ben Sherman. I love a gift cabana! Free stuff rocks! But it’s crazy how the people with all the money don’t have to spend it. I want in that club.

So I’m trying to weasel my way into the Grammys. Let’s see how that goes. For Valentines Day I want this: Reply and tell me what you want!

2 thoughts on “THE WEEK THAT WAS… II”

  1. Gretchen is a GIRL I LIKE too! She seems like someone you could bring anywhere, from an Awards show to a strip club, and she could fit in perfectly.

    The PCD should change the lyrics to “Dontcha wish you weren’t a one-hit wonder like me?”

    Also, is it too much to ask for a man for Valentine’s Day? Since I don’t see that happening by next week, instead I’ll treat myself to something special…TBD.

  2. I don’t have a man either. I’ve got like 5/16th of a few. No one has really stepped up to the plate and assumed the position which makes me crazy! Why are men such punks? Ugh. Ah well. For Valentines Day I’m working and then coming home and going to bed. Maybe I’ll be truly pathetic and rent porn.


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