Diamonds, Engagement Rings & Diamond Jewelry in popular culture

In a country that is so famous for its tiny clothes that it has a bikini wax named after it, Paris Hilton is still considered “too much”.  Hilton went to Brazil to film an ad for the new Devassa beer.  Evidently “devassa”, when translated from Portuguese with the most possible tact, means “naughty”.  So who better to call as a spokesmodel than the seldom-dressed heiress?  According to Brazil’s Secretariat for Women’s Affairs, the ad “devalues women—in particular, blond women”.   The odd part is that the black dress Hilton dons in the ad is much bigger than most of her clothes, and certainly bigger than the bikinis on women in TV ads for other beers.  But Eduardo Correia, spokesman for the private regulatory company Conar, said that, “The problem with the ad isn’t a lack of clothing, but its sensual nature.  A woman in a bikini on a beach isn’t necessarily sensual; it depends on context”. 

Why Would Anyone Object To Class Like This?

That’s Portuguese for “We want to be the only country whose airwaves are not clogged with vacant rich people who are famous for no good reason at all”.  I’ll bet they don’t even have a version of Survivor yet. 

Devassa’s “Bem Loura” (“Very Blond”) beer also uses Hilton in its advertising, and even goes so far as to have her in skimpy underwear and high heels—but that’s only an internet campaign, so Conar and the Secretariat for Women’s Affairs will have to quietly melt down over those.  If Conar decides that the ads are inappropriate, it can recommend that they be pulled from TV.  So far, in 23 years, not one of Conar’s recommendations has been ignored, so this doesn’t bode well for Devassa.  It is, however, fine for our Paris.  The check has, undoubtedly, already cleared.  Tinkerbell will always be well-supplied with diamond-studded dog collars.

In the meantime, Hilton continues to dodge rumors that she, herself, starts.  In a speech she gave at the Hearts for Hope benefit, she thanked her “future sister-in-law Casey”.  That’s boyfriend Doug Reinhardt’s sister.  Paris and Doug have been together for an unusually long time, and it has taken Reinhardt much longer to give Paris a gift to add to her collection of ostentatious, high-quality engagement rings.  By this point in most of Hilton’s relationships, they’ve already broken up.  Maybe they’re secretly engaged.  It seems unlikely, since nothing Paris Hilton ever does is kept quiet.  She was apparently feeling a bit needy at the event when she dropped the bomb that she has a ‘future sister-in-law’.  The tabloids didn’t disappoint.  They were filing stories before she even finished her high-pitched sentence. 

It isn’t unusual for American celebrities to star in ads overseas and make serious bank for their small efforts.  Hilton’s work in Rio came as no surprise.  Even legitimate, talented famous people can pick up a quick million for a day’s work.   A recent campaign had George Clooney selling espresso on billboards in Israel.  Now Paris, too, will be all over the Holy Land, advertising the Israeli Lottery.  The ad was filmed in New York, and promises that winner of the lottery will also get a shopping spree with Paris herself.  No word yet on whether that would happen in New York or Tel Aviv, although we can all make an educated guess.

Banned in Brazil but welcomed in Israel.  Who woulda thunk it?

Yes, we are.  We’re still talking about it.  Even after all of the mistresses have been counted and the Escalade has been repaired, it’s still one of the top searches on the internet.  But it’s old news, really.  It is so 2009.  It was okay for a week or so after he got caught and the names started coming out.  He apologized on his website…twice.  Then it was about Elin Woods going to an event without her engagement and wedding rings, and that was a big deal.  Then Tiger went off to no-sex camp for 45 days.

Okay, he's sorry. Now can we, as a culture, move on?

That should have been enough, no?

It wasn’t.  After he got out of his program, he was forced into apologizing again, this time including his sponsors in his speech.  The result was disastrous.  It was the least- convincing apology since John Rocker claimed to be “contrite” (a word he probably couldn’t even spell) for his racist, homophobic remarks in 2000.  Except Tiger probably really meant it, but was paraded onto a stage to again humble himself, and he didn’t look comfortable.  So he didn’t look genuine. 

He reiterated that he was deeply sorry, that he knew he let everyone and their second cousin down, and that he has “a lot to atone for”.  He praised his wife for her strength and begged the media to leave her and the kids alone. 

And as he read words that he clearly hadn’t written—but words he knew to be true—he looked and sounded as if he was going through the motions to get some of his millions of dollars in sponsorship back.  It’s too bad.  If no one had pushed him in front of that podium, he might have gone back onto the tour with some mild controversy, but everything would have gone back to normal soon enough.  Last Friday, he came off less likeable than he was before.  Not even Buddha could save him from that fiasco.

It couldn’t get worse, right?

Wrong.  In steps Howard Stern, with a $100,000 prize for the winner of a beauty pageant in which all contestants are (you guessed it) former mistresses of the golfer.  So far, four have agreed to participate.  An alleged seven have not responded.  And who is supplying the prize money?  AshleyMadison.com, a dating website for married people.  The website states that, “Life is Short, Have an Affair” as its motto.

Seriously, can we move on?  Evidently not, even if Stern relents.  Now several of the women who were with Tiger while he was married are demanding an apology, too.  No, really.  Women who knowingly and willingly slept with a famous married guy want him to say he’s sorry.  What, the movie roles not rolling in, ladies?

We get it.  A famous married athlete slept with someone not his wife. 

Now can someone tell me what the big deal is?

Curling has several things working in its favor during the 2010 Winter Olympics.  First and foremost, the Games are in Canada this year.  Canadians love their curling.  Second, the Canadian women’s team is getting crazy press because they’ve got a 5 ½ months-pregnant player on their team.  And then there’s the matter of Norway’s pants.  Those Norwegians have some crazy pants, and they’ve already proven that they aren’t embarrassed to wear them.  They should be, but, in a sport that 90% of the world doesn’t even know exists, they are unafraid to let their collective freak flag fly.  And, just in case the Americans were switching to reruns of Golden Girls whenever curling came on, Canada decided to call their ‘Skip’ (that’s Canadian for ‘Captain’) by the nickname ‘The Michael Jordan of Curling’.  Yeah, Americans have all heard of him.  That’ll get us to watch.

Do you need another reason to watch?

Does any of this add up to a wild American curiosity about something that more-or-less adds up to shuffleboard-on-ice?

Evidently so, because everyone is talking about it.  Mostly, they’re saying, “I don’t think I really understand curling”, but they’re watching while they try to figure it out. 

Curling is great for a whole bunch of reasons. 

 1. You can be really pregnant and still play, for example.  It isn’t a contact sport.  Some question whether or not it’s a sport at all.  Kristie Moore, the famous pregnant Olympic curler, came under fire for being the ‘most pregnant woman to compete in the Olympics’.  She and her boyfriend (actually, she’s been wearing an engagement ring for four years, but has made no plans to marry yet) decided to start a family before the possibility of playing in the Games came up.  When she was asked to be an alternate on the team, they were totally unfazed when she told them of the baby on the way.  Moore’s mother, a curler herself, was playing until a week before Kristie’s older brother Chad was born.  That’s how curlers roll, you see.

2. You can be about 100 and still play.  Since curling isn’t the most physically demanding of sports and lacks the kind of danger of skiing or snowboarding, players can play forever.  The ‘Skip’ of the Canadian women’s team is 43-year-old Cheryl Bernard.  The ‘Michael Jordan of curling’ is another 43-year-old Canadian, Kevin Martin, also known as “K-Mart” (I kid you not).  He can, evidently, ‘release his rock’ and ‘talk it all the way to the house’.  That’s how points are scored, with the ever-entertaining help of two teammates with “brooms” who furiously brush them on the ice to heat it and, thusly, help the “rock” towards its bullseye-like target.

3. With a “rock” consisting of 42 pounds of granite and a handle, it actually sounds like it might be strenuous to “throw” it.

4. You get to wear special shoes that enable you to both slide (if you’re ‘throwing’) or shuffle (if you’re “sweeping”).

5. Some of the “brooms” look just like brooms.  Some look more like whiteboard erasers on the end of a stick.  And they are personalized not only per team, but also by the individual player.

6. The sport was created 500 years ago in Scotland, when it got too cold to play golf, which leads us to:

7. Three words: Norwegian Curling Pants.

8. 90 minutes into the game, they stop to have a nosh.  The Chinese women brought strawberries yesterday.  The Swiss chose melon.  Some make time for some nice hot tea.

Curling is the second most popular sport in Canada—after hockey, of course.  And why shouldn’t it be (aside from the notion that most of us hadn’t heard of it until those crazy Norwegians took to the ice in red, white, and blue diamond-print pants)?  One would think it would be popular with South Florida residents, many of whom wear loud trousers and funny hats to play the warm-weather version, called ‘shuffleboard’.  The thing is, curling has been around for 500 years, and no one ever talked about it until the 2010 Winter Olympics.  It was a secret that the Canadians have been keeping from its neighbors to the south all this time.

It would’ve been okay if they kept it a little bit longer.

It seems that Ryan Phillippe, the actor who was once lucky enough to slip a wedding ring on the delicate and wildly-successful ring finger of Reese Witherspoon, has been unfaithful to his girlfriend.  Why this would shock said girlfriend is a mystery, considering how they met.  While Ryan was married to Witherspoon, he met Abbie Cornish and began a relationship with her, apparently not understanding that this is not consideried acceptable behavior.  Cornish must have been hypnotized by his curly locks and complete lack of consideration for his family.

Somehow, the couple lasted, long after Witherspoon divorced her cheating husband.  They even moved in together, and Cornish patiently waited for her philandering boyfriend to slip a diamond-encrusted, high-quality engagement ring on her somewhat-immoral finger.  Engagement rumors swirled.  The couple was seen together everywhere.  They were in luuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurve.   It might have been sweet if they didn’t start out in the midst of a high-profile divorce that involved the two young children Phillippe shares with Witherspoon.

And now—surprise, surprise—Phillippe has been seen with other women.  So after three years of delusional bliss, Cornish seems to be done with the actor.  She moved her stuff out of their shared home while her man was visiting with his two kids he had with the woman he cheated on with her.

During the time that Phillippe was in his doomed relationship with young Abbie, his ex-wife scored the ever-adorable Jake Gyllenhaal.  They were cuter than a roomful of tiny kittens riding a fleet of Roombas.  But they split, allegedly because Jake wanted to get married, but Reese didn’t seem to be ready to go there.  Small wonder.  She busies herself with raising her children and being America’s sweetheart.

Ryan Phillippe is, unfortunately, a good actor and is considered hot by many women.  Clearly.  He will find another, or woo Cornish back while still continuing to cheat, because he can.  It’s Hollywood.  Cheaters can keep cheating and the chicks still come a-runnin’.  It happens in the real world, too, but people are less likely to Tweet about it.  We are a culture of people who would rather see phone-quality photographs posted on Facebook pages if famous people are involved.  Who reads a blog to find out that Joe Average is having affairs when we can read about famous people doing bad things?

Poor Abbie.  Poor, poor Abbie.  But how in the name of all that is holy did she not see this train barreling down the tracks, straight for her?

By now, everyone and her second cousin has heard about actor/director/writer/creator-of-hilarity Kevin Smith getting unceremoniously booted off of Southwest Airlines flight for being “too fat”.  His justified Twitter tirade about the embarrassment of getting thrown out of his seat after everyone on the plane already recognized him as “Silent Bob” was hilarious, if not a little sad.  After admitting to being “way fat”, he also pointed out that he was seated with the armrests down and his seatbelt fastened.  Apparently Southwest chose that day to exercise some extraordinarily stringent—and seldom used—policies regarding passenger heft, because I’ve been wedged between the aisle and a person who required a seatbelt extender and decided to muffin-top herself over the arm rests, rendering me unable to move in any direction for hours.  Smith Twittered jokes about being “airlifted” out of the plane under the supervision of Richard Simmons.  He made the best of a potentially-embarrassing situation.

"I'm sorry. You want to pick a fight with WHO now?"

Evidently, Southwest claims that they boarded Smith as a standby passenger before realizing that they had someone of even greater circumference but had purchased two seats to accommodate the excess flesh.  That was thoughtful for a person who requires that much room.  The logic was lost on the folks at Southwest, who offered a weak apology and an explanation that made no sense.  Claiming that the people around him reported a need to lean away from his girth, Smith pointed out that they were already leaning when he got on the plane.  One woman was ready to nap against the window, and the other was leaning towards the aisle.  Duh.  That’s the way people sit on a plane.  As far away from neighboring passengers without actually moving.  I mean, they’re strangers.  Who leans towards a stranger on a plane, unless it’s a creepy guy who’s had a few too many vodka/tonics? 

So now Kevin Smith—who has said that he is done arguing with Southwest because they make no sense—has issued them a challenge.  Continuing his contact with the airline via Twitter, he wrote, “you bring the same row of seats to the DailyShow [sic], and I’ll sit in ‘em for all to see on TV”.  He went on to say, “If I don’t fit, I’ll donate 10K to charity of your choice”.  He went on a bit more after that as well.  He’s mad.

This is a guy who dated Joey Lauren Adams, who was the indie sex goddess of the 90s.  This is the same “too fat” guy who slipped a wedding ring onto the finger of actress Jennifer Schwalbach, a 5’10” babe who has been in Playboy, in 1999 and has kept her happy since.  This is also the comic genius who created Clerks, Mallrats, Chasing Amy, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, not to mention the positively ingenious Dogma (among other films) and has written comic books and even a novel.  This is not the guy you want to get into a war of words with.  Southwest Airlines just poked a cobra with a stick.

If Southwest submits to Smith’s challenge, bringing the offending row of seats onto the set of Jon Stewart’s Daily Show, then a most wonderful and telling event will naturally occur: Kevin Smith will have to fly to New York. 

I’m not sure who he’ll fly, but I’ve got an idea who it won’t be.

It isn’t a skit from David Letterman, or a scene from High Fidelity.  It sounds like it, and maybe it should be, but it’s not.  The Pontiff released his list of Top 10 Rock albums in Sunday’s official Vatican newspaper, L’Osservatore Romano, despite the Holy See’s previous censure of rock music as “the devil’s work”.  Although it is clear that “The times, they are a-changin’”, Bob Dylan didn’t make the list.  The guy who wrote “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” didn’t make the papal cut.  In the article, Giuseppe Fiorentino and Gaetano Vallini explain that Dylan was left out of the Holy Father’s CD collection because he blazed the trail for untalented singers and songwriters who have “harshly tested the ears and patience of listeners” with their sad stories.  Ouch. 

I bet Dylan’s glad to be Jewish now.

Sometimes, even He must put His hands in the air, and wave 'em like he jus' don't care.

It seems a rather odd move for the Pontifex Maximus, known more for his—you know—holiness than his taste in music, to even contemplate the differences between different popular music acts.  Surely there are things to be blessed and Dan Brown books to denounce.  On the other hand, this is a man who likes to wear giant gold crosses encrusted with diamonds and emeralds, and favors large man-rings.  An ear for modern music was sure to come.  I guess.

The albums that made the list are, to say the least, baffling.  The Beatles’ Revolver is, undoubtedly, one of the greatest rock albums of all time, but, considering that many of the songs were either a direct or indirect result of LSD experimentation, it is surprising that the Holy See would embrace it.  Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon also made the cut.  Evidently, its original title, Dark Side of the Moon: A Piece for Assorted Lunatics, remains unknown to His Holiness.  Either that, or he, too, was mourning the loss of Syd Barrett to drug-addled insanity.  Speaking of which, David Crosby made the list with If Only I Could Remember My Name, and Fleetwood Mac with Rumours. 

How Michael Jackson’s Thriller got the spiritual nod, we may never understand.  According to the article, “Some songs seem to have been written yesterday…while others still send shivers down the spine for their illuminating simplicity and musical thrust”.  On one hand, it seems that the Father Confessor wouldn’t listen to pop music.  On the other hand, Michael Jackson and Catholic priests do have several things in common.  U2’s Achtung, Baby makes sense because there is a common thread of sanctimony.

Also making the list were Donald Fagen’s The Nightfly, Paul Simon’s Graceland, and Carlos Santana’s Supernatural.  Those can all get by without question.  The Pontiff has some ‘splainin’ to do about putting Oasis’ (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? On there.  Just having the word “glory in the title doesn’t make it Pope-worthy.

The Vatican stated that any of these albums would be perfect music for anyone marooned on a desert island.  Bob Dylan would probably disagree.  Or, most likely, laugh his unholy behind off.

John Mayer knows that he is perceived by the World at Large to be a total D-bag.  Probably because he is a total D-bag.  But he apologizes for it.  Then he does something else offensive.  Then he apologizes.  And so on and so on.  All the while that he’s talking about all of the women he’s been with and divulging intimate details of his escapades, new women keep running to him like he’s the last Madonna t-shirt at a Pride parade.

Deep As A Teaspoon.

Most recently, he made remarks that were seen as racist not because John Mayer dislikes black people, but because he’s an idiot who never thinks before he speaks.  He’s recorded with Common and Kanye West.  Common is a strong, political black man who wouldn’t work with a racist.  Kanye West probably had a “Who’s The Biggest D-Bag?” contest with Mayer via Twitter, even as they sat in a studio together.  And it was ALL DONE IN CAPITAL LETTERS.  But then he makes remarks about a ‘Benetton heart and a David Duke”, um, other part of his body, and he’s ticked off an entire community.  Again, not because he thinks like David Duke or has anything against any other races, but because he has a complete inability to filter his thoughts.  That remark would have been funny if he told it to a few friends while they sat in a haze, strumming their guitars.  It is not so funny when you say it to a reporter for Playboy magazine. 

And the chicks still come a-runnin’.  He’s dated Jennifer Love Hewitt, Minka Kelly, Cameron Diaz, and a string of other starlets before hitting the Big Two:  Jessica Simpson and Jennifer Aniston.  We almost wanted John and Jen to stay together, for the rumors of an engagement ring to be true, for them to have beautiful babies.  But, alas, she is a grown-up, and he still believes that, at 32-years-old, he has license to go through women like Kleenex.  The things he said about Jessica Simpson were just TMI.  Even the interviewer from Playboy was a bit taken aback by his candor about their, um, chemistry, when Mayer referred to the singer as “sexual napalm” (Did anyone besides me think of Coming to America and ‘Randy Watson and Sexual Chocolate’?).  Papa Joe must’ve had a meltdown over that.  At least Mayer managed to be as respectful as he can be when referring to Aniston. 

To further his jackassery, Mayer states that he is bored with bagging lots of women.  He prefers to be, ahem, by himself these days.  It’s too easy for him to get girls now.  And why is that, anyway?  Okay, so he’s tall, and women like that.  He has a good head of hair, and that’s nice.  He’s okay-looking, although he could clearly use a little less self-play and a little more sleep.  And his singing, well, let’s just say that Justin Timberlake’s imitation of John Mayer was wet-your-pants funny.  And he’s a total d-bag, and admits it.  So why all the panty-dropping?  Ask the nearest 18-year-old girl.  “If I have a conversation with a really hot girl that lasts all night,” Mayer told Playboy, “And she says, ‘Wow, I had no idea I was going to like you this much’”, that is better than sex to him.  He should probably keep looking for the panty-droppers, ‘cuz charming, he ain’t.

While trying to look contemplative and self-deprecating, he says that he has to let himself out of the figurative prison he feels that fame has put him in.  “In 2010,” he says, “My goal is to get more mentions in US Weekly than ever”.  In the same article, he probably put on his wisest expression as he said, “I’m old enough now to know that I need to change”.

That’s our Johnny.  He makes no sense, and when he does, he offends people.  Yet the trail of discarded women behind him grows ever longer.  On behalf of my gender, I’d like to say, “Why?”

Who better to dispense marriage advice than Madonna?  The twice-wed, fresh meat-seeking singer is ready to “help” couples who seek that sort of thing on a television program hosted by Jerry Seinfeld instead of seeking the guidance of a therapist.  The show, called Marriage Ref features celebrities deciding who is right or wrong in disagreements between real spouses.  Kinda like Judge Judy, only less dignified.  Instead of disputes being settled with some kind of logic or law, they will be decided by famous people.  Famous people with questionable track records in the relationship department.  Madonna is the BIG star attraction thus far, and she’s proven herself more than worthy of reality television by rekindling her romance with 23-year-old Jesus Luz while in Brazil this past week. 

Unless Madonna can advise me on how to get one of these, I'm not watching.

Also scheduled to appear on the show are Sarah Silverman, Matt Lauer, Cedric the Entertainer, Matthew Broderick, Alec Baldwin, Larry David, and Charles Barkley, among others.  If Charles Barkley told me I was wrong in an argument, I might not agree, but I wouldn’t say anything.  Alec Baldwin has famously made a fool of himself during his divorce from Kim Basinger, leaving horrifying voicemails for their daughter.  Jerry Seinfeld is happily married to a woman he met just after she returned from the honeymoon following her first happy (but very short) marriage.   Excellent therapists. 

Ricky Gervais, who will also appear on the show, has been with the same woman for 18 years, but has yet to commit to wedding rings.   Eva Longoria Parker, Tina Fey, and Martin Short are also signed up for the show.  According to executives of the Marriage Ref, the celebrities aren’t required to have a great relationship track record; they merely have to be persuasive enough to comedian Tom Papa—the actual Marriage Ref himself—that they are right.

And so we can look forward to all sorts of comedy and commentary from famous people as they give their opinions about other peoples’ relationships.  Some of it should be quite entertaining, but, as with most of these sorts of shows, very little is likely to be resolved.  It’ll be awesome to see what kinds of couples are willing to sit, straight-faced, while celebrities make a mockery of their marital woes.  I guess it’s gotta be cheaper than marriage counseling.

The show begins on February 28, after the Olympics.  All the world, too lazy to reach for the remote, will be watching.

Lil Wayne, our beloved Weezy, was supposed to be shipped off to the pokey for a one-year sentence relating to whatever “attempted” criminal gun possession is.  He delayed the term literally by the skin of his teeth.  The rapper apparently has to have some dental surgery that cannot wait until after he gets out.  If I were a rapper who decorated my teeth with thousands and thousands of diamonds, I’d be looking into getting those removed before I went to a place where an official Lil Wayne Diamond Tooth could potentially be traded for cartons of cigarettes and plenty of whatever that gross alcohol prisoners make themselves is called.  It is not that, however, that is bringing him to visit the dentist.  Weezy cracked a tooth somehow—and I think we’d all rather not know the details—and it needs to be fixed now.  After the procedure, he will require a week to heal, so he is expected to make his grand entrance to Riker’s Island Prison on March 2. 

20 Days Before These Choppers Are Being Openly Traded for Lucky Strikes.

It’s almost a shame.  Weezy spent what he thought was his last few nights partying it up.  He threw a party for family and friends at Dolce nightclub in Miami as a going away/Super Bowl celebration, recorded nine music videos in 48 hours, watched his Saints win the Super Bowl (He is proud New Orleans native), and posted an emotional goodbye to his fans.  He promised that he would not, as many of his incarcerated peers have, disappear from his fans’ radar while serving his time.  With nine videos—a few for the compilation We Are Young Money, a few for his recent release Rebirth, and a few for his upcoming album Tha Carter IV—he will not be forgotten.  With 20 extra days of freedom, he can easily record a whole new album, make a couple of videos, and possibly impregnate a few more young ladies before he turns himself in. 

As for seeing his Saints win the Super Bowl, Lil Wayne was sure to acknowledge them in the video that was supposed to air after he went to jail.  Although some of the dramatic effect was lost when he ended up getting a stay of execution (so to speak), he said: “Shout out to all the Saints out there, Reggie Bush, Colston, Drew Brees.  The Dome Patrol, Rickey Jackson for being elected to the Hall of Fame this year.  Pat Swilling.”

During his supposed-to-be-last-days, Wayne got in touch with Kobe Bryant and told him that he planned to record a song in his honor called “You Can’t Guard Me”.  Kobe showed up on set to help record a video to go with the song, which states: “He the greatest on the court/I’m the greatest on the verse”.  Wayne also spoke of a reunion of his former group the Hot Boys, which included rappers Juvenile, Turk, B.G., and a 15-year-old Lil Wayne.  It is still on, once Turk gets out of prison, where he was sent after pleading out to second-degree attempted murder for shooting a police officer, possessing a firearm while a felon, possessing a firearm while a fugitive from justice, and possessing a firearm while under the influence of a controlled substance.  He got 12 years in 2006.  He could be out as early as 2012.

Weezy himself might only need to serve 8 of his 12-month term, if he’s a good boy and the prisons remain woefully overcrowded.  The rapper, regardless, remains contemplative about serving time, telling Rolling Stone: “This is Lil Wayne going to jail.  Nobody can tell me what that’s like.  I just say I’m looking forward to it.”  Hopefully, it will be as pleasurable an experience as he is expecting.   Not everyone thinks of prison as a fine way to spend a few months.  Gotta love this guy.

Although this season promises less controversy than ever—with no Dustin Diamond having massive tantrums, no Guy-From-Eight-Is-Enough melting down, no drug-addled outbursts from Jeff Conaway—it is still going to be an entertaining as ever.  Yet another group of the formerly famous has eaten its way to the next step in their waning careers: reality television.  With Drill Sergeant Harvey Walden IV screaming them into submission, they will huff and puff their way to eventual weight loss (they hope).  The comedy began to unfold in the first episode, which aired last night, when Bobby Brown declared of their stark living arrangements, “It’s easy compared to being in jail”. 

I thought people worked out in jail...

Tears come out as Shar Jackson realizes that she still has some unresolved issues with her babydaddy and co-star Jevin Federline.  Evidently, she still remains some amount of surprise that the former backup dancer left her pregnant behind to slip a wedding ring on Britney Spears’ golden finger.  Hopefully, she is able to derive some satisfaction from K-Fed’s admission that he went into a depression after his split from the pop star and ate his way to 232 pounds.  On his first weigh-in, he admits, “I look like a pregnant man right now”.  And this is a guy who knows what pregnancy looks like.  He seems to cause it wherever he goes—at least he did before he gained all those excess kilos. 

Also on the show is former Baywatch star Nicole Eggert, who wears a revealing one-piece bathing suit on the show.  What she reveals is considerably more than was there a few years back.    Sebastian Bach, the once-bad boy lead singer of Skid Row who was reduced to a bit part on chick-drama Gilmore Girls, warns that people have tried to tell him what to do before, and that it never works out.  Alas, he no longer has the youthful angst or energy to back up his claims, and continues to do as Harvey tells him without incident.  Rounding out the cast (so to speak) are KayCee Stroh of High School Musical, who is just a sweet girl; Tanisha Thomas of The Bad Girls’ Club who cries and tries to go toe-to-toe with Harvey and threatens to quit a lot; and Jay McCarroll, the winner of Project Runway’s first season.  He actually appears to be there to work hard, and provides a little comic relief along the way.  He was funny on Project Runway, too. 

Sure, Celebrity Fit Club, like all other reality TV, derives most of its success from the viewers’ desire to see trainwrecks-in-progress.  People will still watch, however, to feel better about themselves because formerly-thin, formerly-rich celebrities let themselves go.  It’s a charming world.  Tune in on Mondays.