One Light Stand: No, Elyse Sewell Will Not Sleep With You

Model Elyse Sewell (of America's Next Top Model, which I never saw) has a very interesting and funny blog about her life as a gorgeous human clotheshanger in Hong Kong. From what I hear, she was a pre-med student who took a detour into modeling. That she's bright is obvious from her clever, self-aware posts. That she's lovely speaks for itself.

The funniest post so far: one about a clueless dork who hits on her in a hotel while she waited for a work-related appointment. He was eager to flirt but the language barrier proved a little difficult. She finally got tired of trying to understand his speech and asked him to write down whatever it was he was trying to communicate. He did. The results:

From Elyse's account:
He hunched over into the universal Don't Copy Off My Homework Fartknocker posture and busied himself writing, like, forever.

Sonnet-writing forever. Feeling awkward but not quite yet willing to get testy and snatch back my diary, I took out my camera and took a picture of him as he paused to count his iambs.

Good thing I did. Now you can congratulate him if you ever see him on the street. Because this is what he finally handed back to me.

Totally Unnecessary Sequel, Part XVIII

Rambo is back in business. Sylvester Stallone will reprise his role as gun-toting John Rambo in the upcoming "Rambo IV," said Ben Nedivi of Millennium Films, which is producing the project with Emmett/Furla Films.
The 59-year-old Stallone also intends to bring boxer Rocky Balboa out of retirement. He will write and direct "Rocky Balboa," the sixth film in that franchise, with shooting set to begin next year.
It's funny, because I just saw Arnold Schwarzenegger last week and was struck by how very not tall he was, and back in the heyday of these two (you know, the '80's), rumor was always that Sly was even more petite. Perhaps there is an inverse relationship between one's physical stature and one's uncontrollable ambition to do bigger, badder, more ridiculous movies. Red Sonja 2007, anyone?

October 22, 2005

A Call To Arms: Paper Hat Guy E-Mails Bella

Right before I left for Las Vegas, I received an e-mail with the subject line: "I'm the paper hat guy."

Yeah, that's right, paper hat guy. Loyal readers of my blog (Hi, Mom!) will remember him from my blog entry where I whined about being sick and taking the train to see a doctor. A link to that entry: More Delight on the Red Line - This Time, With Paper Hats.

Paper Hat Guy, is, in fact, a real person: Scotty Iseri. He's the guy in the light green t-shirt in the photo above. From his e-mail (which he okayed for reprint here):

Hi bella,

My name's scotty. Just wanted to say thanks for the kind words on your blog. I've been called worse than puckish and lanky.

The paper hat thing is a game i'm trying to get started for CTA riders. There's 3 rules:

1) You can't talk (no saying "Hey you! Put this hat on!")
2) You can't force anybody to play (So no fair putting hats on sleeping/drunk people)
3) You always win (people tend to like this rule)

And you saw how it was played. Get on the train, make a hat, put it on. Make another hat, give it to somebody, stare at them until they put it on. Repeat until the car is full.

Thanks tons for playing along. it's always easier when there's some cool people that catch on right away. If you ever get the urge to play the game, shoot me off an email and lemme know how it went.

Thanks again,

Scotty
www.scottyiseri.com

You heard him, folks. It's a movement. Uncle Hat wants you. Start your own round of the paper hat game the next time you're bustling through the city on the CTA.

Muerto Las Vegas

Glitter Gulch Knocks Bella Out!

Yes, I've recently returned from a week working on a business conference in Las Vegas. It was my first visit to Sin City, Orlando for grownups, Mobville USA, Sodom Heights.

In the interest of discretion (and continued employment), I will offer a few spare observations in summary. Keep in mind that this was my very first trip to Las Vegas, and that I worked (roughly) 18 hour days in challenging circumstances.

1. Las Vegas is gaudy. Even the high-end, "opulant" hotels and resorts: gaudy.

2.Video slots are like playing video games. Video games which eat your money by the giant mouthful, and are, aside from the dubious promise of BIG CASH, totally boring. I got a bigger endorphin release playing Pitfall on Atari when I was 8 years old. (Yes, I lost all of my "designated gaming money" during the 15 free minutes I had to take advantage of Las Vegas adult gaming diversions. Please shed a tear for me and my $20.)

3. At one point near the end of my time there, I stepped outside into a garden-type area to chat with a co-worker who was enjoying a smoke. I saw two little nondescript birds flitting about, searching the ground of bits of food, and something inside me sighed with relief. All that time I'd been working inside this overly-designed and carefully controlled interior environment with the overstimulating bells and flashing lights of the casinos, I'd had absolutely no interaction with what could be reasonably called "nature." As someone with a strong personal (and, previously, professional) tie to the animal world, I had been missing that connection strongly, but had been too busy to reflect and realize it. Like a total nutter, I sat down on a bench and started talking to the little birds. My co-worker laughed, and I laughed at the absurdity, but it made me feel a little better. (Don't even ask my reaction when I re-entered the hotel and saw a toddler spinning around on the floor in front of our office. It was like seeing a unicorn.)

4. I really enjoyed getting to know and work with some new folks (clients and local staff as well) onsite, and am recounting the good laughs we had while I take long epsom salt baths in an attempt to reduce the mass of adhesions that now populate my aching lower back.

Oh, also, one night as some co-workers and I were desperately trying to catch a cab back to our hotel after working like dam-cramming beavers on crystal meth, we saw Arnold Schwarzenegger pull out of the hotel driveway, waving like Miss America. His car went right by us with the window down, and he looked expectanctly at me, perhaps anticipating a big reaction. I was so exhausted I just sort of looked at him and said "See ya."

Tofu Cream is the New Black: Anna Wintour Takes a Pie to the Face

French anti-fur activists said they struck Anna Wintour, editor of the U.S. edition of Vogue, in the face with a cream pie on Saturday to protest against her support for the use of animal fur by the fashion industry.

Wintour, dressed in a fur-trimmed black jacket, was hit in the face with a tofu cream pie as she left the Chloe fashion ready-to-wear show at the Tuileries Gardens in central Paris, members of the group People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) said.


That's right, Vogue editor Anna Wintour, well-known for her frosty demeanor and equally frozen face, has been splashed twice in the kisser with tofu cream delight in the name of compassion for animals. It's getting to the point that high fashion should probably just embrace the whole concept, and not only stop using fur in their designs, but send their models tottering down the runway in pre-pied gowns and suits.

Celebrity Caption Contest - Liz Hurley and Donatella Versace

Donatella Versace most closely resembles:
A) A baked apple.
B) A pleather loveseat.
C) A burnt Muppet.

Tom Cruise is a Moron, Part XXII


Tom Cruise was the victim of a recent Internet scam in the form of a fake press release posted on the British Website Pressbox.co.uk that claimed the actor would be giving a series of lectures on metal-health issues.

The release, purportedly issued by the actor's lawyer, Bertram Fields, claimed that Cruise would be bellying up to a podium at Los Angeles' Scientology Celebrity Center to discuss topics such as "How Psychiatry Invented Schizophrenia and What Scientologists Can Do About It" and "Handling Sexual Disorientation: Out of the Closet and into the Auditing Room."


Tom actually had his attorney respond to this obviously fake (and funny) press release, with the usual humorless intensity. When is this dude going to figure out that making loud public pronouncements and filing kajillions of lawsuits whenever someone writes a spoof article about him or suggests he is less than 100% heterosexual only draws more attention to the subject at hand? Wait. Let's read the funniest part again:"Out of the Closet and into the Auditing Room."

Bai Ling and Bobby Trendy Can't Keep Their Nipples To Themselves

That's so endearing. Bobby and Bai still think that a coy Janice Dickenson-style "oops, my titty popped out" will garner positive press and attention. Instead, they look like dumb Tara Reid-style "oops, my titty popped out" attention whores for whom the snap and pop of the press corps flashbulbs is like food and water. Oops!