He needs to get a lot more excited about that 10.

This is by far the coolest thing I’ve done at work — interview Olympic gold medalist and Dancing With the Stars champion Apolo Anton Ohno about (among other things) why he could win American Idol, a Disneyland ride called “The Life Partner,” and how puberty is such a bitch.

Since many cannot seem to handle Quicktime (get a Mac already) on EW.com, I put them on YouTube: Part 1 and Part 2

Check out these two episodes of Idolatry — live from Central Park! — on EW.com.

Part 1: “She had a lot of guttural, you know… errrrnh!” Please don’t speak.
Part 2: Dancin’ Dawnie, M-Sleaze, and I attempt to Blakedance.

Bonus: Hot dogs are involved. All right!

Click here to watch possibly the greatest thing to ever occur in the Great Lake State, and that’s including Dee Barrett’s summer ‘05 purchase of this cake in the shape of a hot dog.

The one thing that makes it truly awesome is that while most of the stupid, mindless, “funny” viral videos I have to watch for work daily are contrived to the point of being completely fake and pointless, this dispatch is actually real. I can’t see how one could screen-write anything better. WHY DO WE EVEN TRY.

I also dig the giant pot leaf emblazoned onto the transcript. Stay classy, Michigan!

I have to go drown myself.

They’re open. Go in.

Rad ’80s font greatly appreciated.

Oh HELL no.

Witness the fried calamari from Nine-D on Court Street. To help the pieces avoid growing soggy and disgusting, someone bothered to pierce a slit in the plastic cover. The calamari stays hot, and yet moisture can escape. They’ll never know how much I appreciate the effort. Until I print this out and stick it under the door tomorrow morning.

Also dug the moderate, equally distributed steamage on the mango fish entree.

And you know what? Generally top-notch packaging all-around. The ridges are the kicker. They don’t need to be there, in that pattern. But there they are. Like his teeth:

“You must be mad. Have a great meal!”

Another week, another complete mindf—. I’m sure no one who reads this blog watches this show, but I write about it for work, so go ahead and humor me a moment because this week, the backgrounds were unusually top-notch… which on this show translates to “more incredibly bad than usual.” Check it:

I really appreciated this one. Billy Ray Cyrus’ inflated noggin got to bobble alongside three beautiful, seafoam, tiered, lit candlesticks. He is the picture of fake serenity. I want to step right into the placidi-scape behind him and hang out there for a few minutes to calm down and maybe eat a Frango… before I creep up behind him, re-enter reality with the torches, and ever so delicately light his hair on fire.

Karina Smirnoff is in some sort of holding cell, which is both a metaphor for her life and conveniently splashed with neon hues reminiscent of the Saved by the Bell opening titles. Ah, the glory days of Mario Lopez. Which should never enter the public realm as a viable sentence. TOO LATE.

More candles for Joey Fatone. I believe they want us to think he is gay, which they should because at least then I’d find him 3% endearing compared to his current score of 0.

Kym Johnson: rapping at us from the future while wearing a jacket from the present made to look like it’s from the past. I’m hearing a horrible rendition of “Light Years” in my head, which does make sense as Kym is Australian. GET OFF OF KYLIE MINOGUE’S SPACESHIP.

There is also the slight chance Kym was doing her interview from the United terminal at Chicago’s O’Hare airport.

Bo-ring. But it’s Maks, and he’s wearing a sweater that is somehow simultaneously earth-toned and Easter Bunny-esque. I see no problem here. It should be noted that I am intentionally ignoring the atrocious bauble in his left ear. That is my prerogative.

For the record, Maks has also never seen a problem when it comes to himself. Please click here.

Oh, cute, Laila Ali did the interview from her grandma’s house.

Dare I say she looks a tiny bit cooler doing the interview from my eerie-ass apartment?

Oh, cute, Ian Ziering did his interview from Laila Ali’s grandma’s house.

Is that piano real? I know the dance studio is. And the dance studio is reflected in the piano. But the flowers just would not be there under any circumstances. Whose job was it to set that up? You’re fired.

Wait, did Ian maybe give Cheryl those for her birthday? Don’t care to check.

Julianne only gets two. It was not her birthday.

FAKE.

Don’t stay tuned!

Two weeks ago, I moved to the Carroll Gardens/Red Hook vicinity. I’m so cool. Check out some of my fave sights from the environs thus far:

Ha.

Ha!

YES!

I always do!

Welcome to the neighborhood, Annie!

Fine, a few pics from inside the “Apt.” (I posted these and more a few days ago by burying them in the archives. But that was bogus. Wait, you don’t care.)

The essentials.

Some backstory on that sad tomato, from an April 13 e-mail from Dee Barrett:

At T (Target), I purchased a ceramic tomato that I am almost certain Meghan said “we just HAVE to buy this for Annie” last time we were there together. The clearance tags were mounted one on top of the other, suggesting that this really is the tomato that nobody would ever buy. I’ll bet Annie would have purchased it at its original price ! However, always after a deal, the tomato is now ours for the very low sticker price of $2.47 !

Oh, D (Dee) !

The essentials (cont.)

Best desk ever. Note the pack of brownie bites sidling up to the PTP.

From living room into office. Jury’s still out on whether this room is called Office or Study. (Bordering-on-Tacky Lair of Sublime Creativity, Possibly, In The Future, If I Ever Get My Act Together… was too long.)

Kitchen, including the bane of my existence for 3.5 years: Three incredibly annoying “Lack” shelves from Ikea that are literally impossible to put in a wall. Milk crates, rug gripper, stand ‘em up on the floor? Sure!

Living room. Time to play Where’s The Cheeseburger Pillow?

First documented homemade Mexican Pizza featuring: Scallions! (4/30/07)

The End.