There’s egg on my face, but for the very best of reasons —
It’s World Egg Day!
Here at the Egg, we’re laying low to avoid the paparazzi, but there are celebrations of some import across the globe.
If you live in Bangladesh, grab one of the more than 5000 free boiled eggs being distributed, and attend “EGG FEST 2016.”
The Philippines is holding a charity Family Fun Run event in honor of eggs, and Canada is focusing their celebrations on the EFC — Egg Farmers of Canada — who apparently are very active in their communities, volunteering and donating eggs.
The American EGG Board has a video about an ‘Adventure Egg’ who travels the globe looking for great recipes, but I think the United Kingdom has the right idea. Their theme?
“Put an Egg on It” — to encourage folks to eat eggs in unusual ways.
I follow a lot of entertainment magazines on Twitter…probably too many. And if I’m willing to admit that, they should meet me half way and admit they use the following headline way, way, way too much:
“____________ is barely recognizable [in new hair cut] [in hat] [after losing weight]
Either that, or their reporters, writers and editors are BLIND AS BATS.
Exhibit A: US Weekly found Pam Anderson ‘barely recognizable’ after she cut her trademark long locks into a short pixie.
Even with her shades on, I think it looks exactly like Pam Anderson…just with shorter hair.
Perhaps I am just more observant. And adaptable. And brilliant.
I am willing to own that.
Exhibit B: Another publication struggled to identify Anne Hathaway when she donned a beige sock top while out on a smoothie run.
I don’t know — maybe I do have amazing powers of deduction.
‘Cause I think it’s pretty obvious.
Maybe I have missed my true calling and should be an annoying member of the paparazzi. Or perhaps I should just blame the copy editor for using hyperbole — instead of creativity — to drive folks to their websites.
Although I do like the idea that I have super powers.
Could it be all the goodwill surrounding Beyonce’s pregnancy?
The headline of this year’s MTV Video Music Awards was the announcement of the impending arrival of the superstar coupling of Beyonce and Jay-Z. Her red carpet gown and the teeny tiny tuxedo she later wore on stage were both tailored to put her baby bump on full display.
Cue the oohs and ahhs.
But photos taken only one week prior to the event reveal a very different mother-to-be, her flat stomach barely showing at all…as you might expect from someone who’s only two months along.
So why would Beyonce fake it?
Some say she wanted to announce the pregnancy at the awards show, and a cute, rounded bump garners more attention than no tummy at all. Poor baby — it isn’t even born yet, and Beyonce is already using implants to make it appear more ‘perfect.’
Did she forget the paparazzi follows her and photographs her 24/7? Someone was bound to notice her stomach’s way-too-sudden eruption.
Perhaps I bought into her PR machine, but I thought Beyonce was more genuine than that.
New York City prides itself on letting celebrities live their lives.
While you do see stars of TV and film out and about, you rarely see paparazzi trailing behind.
So I was particularly amused by this Huffington Post slideshow of stars picking up their dogs’ poop — all West Coast shots, mind you.
Everyone from The Office’s John Krasinski to Catherine Zeta-Jones to Paul Bettany are pictured with their pooch and that familiar blue baggie…’cause your dog doesn’t care what you do for a living as long as you take care of their business.
Personally, I haven’t spied any celebs in NYC picking up after their dogs. I have had a celebrity spy on me and my dog.
(It’s a favorite story — a ‘greatest hit,’ as my friend Dan would say.)
My dog Rory and I had just stepped outside of my apartment, and — good dog that he is — he was relieving himself in the street. During this process, I heard a small child’s voice from the sidewalk behind me say,
“Daddy, is that dog gonna bite me?”
A very familiar voice responded drily, “It probably won’t.” That’s when I turned around and saw Jerry Seinfeld watching me and my dog.
I learned a new word today, one that I can repeat in mixed company:
According to my favorite website lemondrop.com, a shamecrush is the “secret type of guy you lust after” that ventures into the “shameful desire” category. They list as examples serial killers, paparazzi and — get ready — Republicans.
Now, I consider myself a bit of an expert on crushes. I mean, I have had so many through the years. But I’m not sure any of them would qualify as a shamecrush.
In junior high, I crushed on pop stars and high school basketball players. In high school, my taste turned to the funny guys — both at my school and on TV. Even after I became a serial monogamist, I usually had a crush on the back burner if only for the entertainment value.
But there was never a sickie or pervert in that role….and god forbid a conservative.
I guess the darkest I’ve gone is a vampire. And there’s no shame in that.
That was one of the headlines today after photos online surfaced of Shiloh Jolie Pitt sporting a new, cropped ‘do. Other less vindictive reporters mused that “Shiloh missed her father and dressing like him made her feel closer.”
Poor little rich kid.
I wonder what reporters would have made of the haircuts my mom gave to my sister and me when we were children. Inevitably, our bangs were way too short…or crooked…or simply missing in spots.
I’m sure they turned out that way because we wouldn’t sit still during the trim, but the paparazzi would have assumed much, much worse.
Local mother’s attempts to behead children fail
Strangely, we didn’t get much pap in Kentucky or West Virginia.