And it’s not myself! I’m as shocked as you are. This here’s a promotional fan for (Norwegian pop star) Annie’s new album. [PopJustice]

I NEED IT.

If I believed in New Year’s Resolutions, mine would be to somehow look that awesome (see above) all year. That’s a relic from August ‘07. My friends — The Team — and I were in Michigan for New Buffalo’s illustrious Ship ‘n’ Shore Festival (holla!). A somewhat drunken but TOTALLY CHILL dance party to a playlist I’d created called “It Couldn’t Be Lamer: Dance Hits from the Mid-to-Late ’90s” ensued. We’d already eaten our weight in cheeseburgers, but dancing is tough, and being the motherly provider I am, I decided to root around in the laundry room fridge for something — anything — to replenish our calorie count. By some miraculous intervention a.k.a. “Dee Barrett being awesome,” there happened to be a spare cherry pie just sitting in there on a dish towel. Heavens!

Anyway, I could never do it on this blog because my name’s all the F over it and I would never want people to think I’m even slightly self-absorbed (ha!), but I kind of want someone to do a “Looking Great in ‘08″ series. It’d just be a pic of that person every day and then she’d scathingly critique her own appearance because half the time she’d be unshowered in a college hoodie. It’s only January 2nd and therefore still doable. She’d just have to fake a photo and say it happened yesterday. Maybe I should start an anonymous blog and just go for it. Hmm. Look for this anonymous blog around May when PopWatch mysteriously links to it. You think I’m kidding.

Do I always look this disgusted? Naturally? What a gift!

These studs are the cast of Vh1’s Mission: Man Band, which premiered last night. They (Bryan Abrams from Color Me Badd, Jeff Timmons from 98 Degrees, Rich Cronin from LFO, and Chris Kirkpatrick from ‘N Sync) stopped by EW.com to get an exclusive tutorial on what it’s like to work in a cubicle. The answer: YouTube-centric, peanut butter-banana-y, and — see above — often filled with dread.

I know we make fun of turtlenecks in the video but I could use one right now. This heat blows. Please let it be January so I can wear the same stretched-out huggable wooly black one with the hole in the left armpit every day. I miss sending people the message with my eyes that there is a totally different shirt underneath the turtleneck than the one I wore the previous day. Of course there is. I didn’t just pull on the same 1-2 shirt combo straight out of the shower. That would be gross. Also, really cozy.

Here’s my love letter to Crystal Waters and Kristi Yamaguchi. It’s the PopWatch item I always wanted to write and now I have. I rule! Slightly.

Another staff confessions gallery today on EW.com: My Pop-Culture Blind Spot. This is a good one. Mine, “popular music,” is the second page.

My partner in lunch and occasionally crime, Sam, created this lovely collage of people I don’t recognize to go along with my entry that basically says “I think I’m cooler than you if you recognize these people.” But really, I have no idea. The guy on the bottom left looks familiar because I think I’ve read like 1000 different blog posts and a few videos about his eyeliner. Who cares about his eyeliner? That hair is disgusting.

Please don’t tell me who the people are. That’s the whole point.

UPDATE: I’m featured on Jossip. Yeehaw.

You guys, I can READ VIDEOS.

The other night I had a moment.

“Pump up the world-aaaaaaaaaaaah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, ow no (beat) hey yeeeeeah….”

Just went to the Tower Records at Lincoln Center and bought the biggest crack pile of CDs to ever exist. This is quite unlike me, as I download most of my music or get it in “zip”-like packets from my roommate over the IM. I used to own lots of CDs, but I dumped them all into my computer and that was that. They’re all stowed away in my childhood room in Illinois, probably under the bed, next to the terrifying Ouija Board I refused to remove when I was 11 because that would mean I’d be acknowledging it, and I couldn’t bring myself to even do that.

Plus, this way, no one has to see Even More Dazed and Confused or every single Jock Jams compilation of the late ’90s on my bookshelves. They’d need to scan through my iPod to find gems like those. And some do.

After thumbing through my friend TG’s even bigger pile of garbage from Tower (which is going out of business in four days) the other night, I suddenly ached for the return of useless but incredibly amusing compilation CDs to my “collection” and made the big trek uptown to the store. Keep in mind there are ZERO good CDs with more than one song by the same artist left at Tower. (Fine, there probably are, but I had like 20 minutes. I made it to the mid-Cs and had to give up.)

But the compilations aisle? Totally different story. If you can manage to ignore the jutting greasy-jacketed elbows of guys who cannot thumb through row upon row of, alternatingly, Punk-Rock of ‘94 and The Emo Diaries: Chapters 4 and 7 fast enough (at one point I feigned interest in Freestyle Hits 1 just to dangle my hair in one guy’s line of sight, thereby completely annihilating his flow), I highly recommend it.

Among the gems I picked out:

SMOKIN BEATS: 40 Phat Joints and Smooth Rolling Beats (pictured, above). Subtitle? “A funky mix of laid-back grooves.” But what are they trying to say? What should I do while I listen to this music?

Spirit of Ecstasy: 20 Pumpin’ Club Hits. What?! Who am I and what have I done with Annie?

Fresh Dance 93: 18 of the most juicy hand picked hits. Another essential collection. Way to copy edit that title, too! Turns out they were indeed referring to the year 1993, which in no way explains the inclusion of “Long Train Runnin’” by the Doobie Brothers.

Fresh Hits Volume 1. That’s it. That’s the whole title. It could honestly be anything. That’s the thing with this aisle — you really need to give everything a flip and check it out. This is a 2-CD (most of them are!) collection of songs in the late ’90s by people like O.D.B., Pink, Christina Aguilera, and S Club 7, i.e. songs I should be cynically aware of now that I work at an entertainment magazine, but was too far submerged in a quicksand-like Electric Light Orchestra obsession to even register. There’s also a Moloko song on there, which is weird, but that’s 50% of why I bought it.

The Sound of Europe. They got it all onto one CD. Amazing!

The 70s: Hits From the Underground. I have no idea why. I’m sorry. It has Jefferson Airplane and something called “Captain Beefheart And His Magic Band.” I had to.

Anyway, seriously, if you have a deep-rooted affinity for compilation CDs that absolutely never needed to be produced but were, check out Tower Records in the next few days. Even if it’s labeled $34.99, it’s probably $3.

Big Decision Alert!

Liz Lemon is the greatest TV character ever.

I’m probably only saying that because she’s a lot like me and I’m all I ever think about. Whatever. Liz Lemon of 30 Rock (Tina Fey) is my hero for plenty of reasons, the most obvious of which is her unabashed obsession with junk food. Observe:

Liz gets a cookie after donating blood. Would you look at that SMIRK? This might be the best photo I’ve ever taken of my own television, and if you don’t know me that well, that is saying so much more than you think. Observe:

Liz is in the middle of an important, entire-episode-consuming office crisis, yet she hesitates when a catering cart wheels by. She actually CHANGES DIRECTION. I believe a pivot was involved, just like in high school girls basketball. (Me!) Again, note the fierce longing in her face. I just don’t understand how this could get any better. Observe:

Liz falls asleep after the same long day at work, but manages to keep a firm grip on a cheeseburger so weak and floppy it is obviously from McDonald’s, despite a lack of visible wrapper logos. Don’t you just want to eat her up? The burger.

Those pics were from last Thursday’s episode. Last night, Liz Lemon admitted the only times she remotely enjoyed her vile boyfriend’s company was when his actions involved food — first doughnuts, then chili, then cheesesteaks. I am seriously confounded at the brilliance of these snack selections. A few weeks ago, the reason I got going on this in the first place was Liz’s insistence that there’s nothing wrong with eating a turkey sub for lunch, and that she likes going to the “crappy” midtown deli because it’s dependable and you know what you’re getting. I couldn’t have said it better myself — god knows I’ve tried, but I’m not good at scripting myself in catchy, succinct TV sentences. When I get to talking about area delis, I can last for whole minutes. I try really hard to convince whomever I’m arguing with (who was never arguing with me, and who doesn’t care) that turkey subs go best when mouth-swished with regular cola, and don’t forget the mayo. The point is: I love Tina Fey.

And on top of all of that… She’s a lefty!

By the way, I’d like to start a Justin Timberlake-esque campaign to bring the spelling “doughnuts” back. Krispy Kreme spells the word that way, but the more pervasive Dunkin’ Donuts, and most people, do not. Are we that busy and low-class that we need to snub those two arguably negligible letters? I’m bringin’ DoughnutsBack. Owww! Sing it with me:

I’m bringin’ “doughnuts” back
Them other peeps they don’t know how to spell
I think it’s special… what’s it filled with, yo
So put it down and I’ll suck out the jelly

I really am still blogging, I swear! Here’s a smattering of proof.

–‘The O.C.’: “Help us!” Love, the Cohens

–The Constantine: Everybody else is wearing it, so why can’t you?

–Dancin’ Dave Price may be the next Bob Barker. Who knew I’d ever have a chance to plug the only video I’ve ever made? No one! You idiots! NOTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON. Or is it everything happens for no reason? Not everything happens for a reason? Longer treatise on this to come.

*

Center-aligned asterisks make me seem so prolific!

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This was 2006’s installment of the “Tangled Up in Blue” Halloween costume (founded in 2001 by DR correspondent “Mughan” Dunn). Definitely my worst effort to date. Blatant lack of feathers. Zero leg action. Tiny bit of yarn and a scarf. Pizza.

I realized three years into the costume that maybe 50% of the people I encounter on Halloween weekend have ever actively listened to Bob Dylan… and only 30% of those people recognize the title “Tangled Up in Blue.” My friend TG, who’s seen the costume three times now, had no idea I was ever supposed to be a song. “I thought you just liked that yarn,” he said. But he was right — that’s really the whole point of the outfit anyway. I cannot get enough of that ball of yarn. Next year, I won’t even bother with the explanation.

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IS THIS YOUR VAN?

I need it. We totally bonded.

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Agh! Ann from Arrested Development (a.k.a. Bell, Egg, Man) guest starred on last night’s Desperate Housewives.

I love how this actress doesn’t mind being made to look gross on purpose… Also, god I miss AD.

Writing for EW.com’s PopWatch blog has been awesome, but it means I haven’t had much time to update on here with reports on my relationship with my DVR and pictures of food on my bed.

:(

In lieu of that, here are some of the entries I’ve found the most fun, since they’re a bit hard to find a few days after the fact:

In which Annie…

–makes fun of three new movie trailers

–peeps a sneak preview of The O.C.

–predicts which celebs could pull off a buzzhawk

–falls asleep in front of Vh1 Classic’s The Vault

–attempts, then fails to follow a lame theme of the letters “de”

–has an IM convo with Michael Slezak about why they’re still watching ABC’s “Brothers & Sisters”

–complains (in jest) about how having a DVR is stressful

–reviews the new Slash/Spinal tap Volkswagen commercials

–wastes an insane amount of time watching TV romance mashups on YouTube

I’ve also been doing recaps of Dancing With the Stars, if anyone cares. (I’d actually prefer if you didn’t watch this show.)

And here’s a link to the EW.com staff picks for The “Bad” Movie I Love. Mine (Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead) is the first one because I’m very cool.

A few peeps have asked if I’m going to recap Top Model this season on DR. I’m going to try to, but I’m writing a different recap on Wed. nights and I suddenly have this “job” that I have to go to the next morning as well. It’s strange. I will definitely write about it here and there, especially when Ty-Ty goes off the deep end. (That last sentence was basically me promising to write about the show every week…. whoops.)

I did write a photo gallery of the cycle 7 girls on EW.com that just went up this morning.

Ladytron concerts tonight and tomorrow! I wish I could freeze-wrap all the approaching delight in foil and them store them as little pleasure pellets in the bag of bite size Reese’s in my desk.

…but I’ll never get out of the kitchen. That’s where the food is!

I’m going to see Madonna’s “Confessions Tour” tonight, on the hottest day of the summer. Wait for the awesome part: Madonna won’t allow air conditioning at Madison Square Garden because it affects her singing voice. She’s just not havin’ it with the ventilation. Apparently people at her last concert here were removed on stretchers. That sounds like so much fun.

I’m personally going to the show more for the spectacle than Madonna’s singing voice, but props to her for being a bad enough bitch to have the power to do this. “This” meaning possibly killing thousands of her adoring fans. I don’t function in heat, so even if there are only a few fatalities at the show, you better believe I’ll be one of them.

Other possible tombstone taglines:

“Come on, Get Together for your last photo with Annie”
“Sorry”
“In the evidence of her brilliance” (HA!)
“She Loved New York”
“Forbidden Love: Were Annie and Cheetos supposed to be together?”
“There’s only so much you can learn in one place”
“How High? High as hell.”
“Heart Failed (in the Back of a Concert)”

—

That was totally fun.

If you’re not rolling on the floor laughing your ass off at my tombstone taglines, rest assured: it’s because all but one of them are references to “Confessions on a Dance Floor.” It’s cool if you didn’t know that. We can’t all die at a Madonna concert, you know. People need to choose their own battles and just go for the gold. Just DIE already!

Anyway, a final farewell to all. I love you.

(Anyone else digging this centered text?)

I’m melting… just watch me burn.

…Such as reading what I write! As if I needed another reason to love Madonna: last night, during her performance of “Hung Up” at the Grammys, she wore the exact type of outfit (some sort of cargo leotard featuring a corset and possibly a bulletproof vest) that she wears in her second Confessions on a Dance Floor video, “Sorry,” which premiered at AOL Music hours later on the same night.

Just watch the video. “Hung Up” was amazing in its own right, I but already think “Sorry” is even better. The woman’s a creative genius, and I’m sick of people not really getting this at all… or maybe they do get it but they refuse to admit it in hopes of keeping up their streed cred. These people need to get over themselves.

(Now I’m just going to talk about the video. If you didn’t just watch it like I convincingly demanded, please move on to the next cool page on your bookmarks bar.)

Presumably after walking out of the nightclub from “Hung Up,” Madonna and her gal pals decide to hop into some random van… except it’s not random! It’s driven by the awesome fat lady who danced in the train during “Hung Up”! She’s a recurring character! The ladies ditch their guys and go cruising for new ones, all of whom they pick up off the street and proceed to torture with sensuous lip-syncing and Madonna’s sinewy, evil, platform-booted legs.

Interspersed among the more plot-driven scenes are cuts to Madonna by herself against a neon-dotted background that looks exactly like my absolute favorite 1980s toy, the Lite-Brite. My favorite parts of these: the one where Madonna slowly feels down the curves of a hypothetical person (presumably “His Humps”) and when she flicks her thumb against the bottom edge of her top teeth — you know, just to do it. Why not?

[Crash!] Now we’re at the part of the video where Madonna’s decided to face off in some sort of deathmatch cage fight. Fans/onlookers/possible villains are crawling up the chain-link fences like scary insects at high speed. It’s incredible. And right at what I think sounds like a “crash,” or the turning point in the song (2:43) at which things mildly slow down and Madonna gets to take a breather and speak foreign languages again, in the video she and the women just stare down the men in the cage, like “Just try and fuck with us. Really, try it.” Look at her fucking outfit. Look at any of her outits lately. It’s a gas, gas, gas.

Holy crap. She’s writhing all over the floor, pulling her leg over her head and performing scissor kicks… and literally fighting each of the guys off with her ridiculous dance moves! Without ever actually touching a male dancer, she just kicked the shit out of maybe 15 of them.

What makes the kung fu shit-kicking sequence even more enjoyable is that it all starts right after she says “Forgive me” directly into the camera while removing an apparently cumbersome white sparkly jacket. In the single, she speaks three “Forgive mes,” but in the video only the last one gets mouth time. It’s a welcome dramatic difference.

Suddenly there’s a random person roller skating through the cage, and… poof! Everyone’s in a roller rink, line dancing. It’s like what they do in the disco in Boogie Nights, when Roller Girl is actually on roller skates. Because she’s Roller Girl. Get it? The best parts of this scene are when Madonna swings through the guy’s legs at the beginning and does a sweeping disco point (left), and the fact that during this scene and the cage fight, she’s wearing volleyball-esque knee pads!

At one point during the roller-rink sequence when she’s getting spun around by a partner, you get the impression that it is at this exact point (right) that Madonna has gone completely insane. But seriously, who cares? The entire endeavor is hilarious.

The final shots of the colorful boom box hanging out alone on the street and Madonna’s silhouette dancing against the Lite-Brite background should provide a good starting point for the video for “Jump.” I can see her actually making a video for all 13 songs on the album and releasing them as a collector’s DVD. The songs would obviously all blend into each other like they do on the CD, though it’s unclear to me whether she’d then rearrange the videos to show in the original album order or leave them in the order the videos were released. I’m betting the latter, with all new between-songs transitions. Either way, something like that would be huge for music videos as a genre. Or maybe just for Madonna.

Hmm. As an aside, you’d have to be an obsessive fiend to appreciate this (Dr. K I’m talking to you) but I really like the cut between shots of her posing-then-singing. The exact seconds in the song are from 0:59 to 1:00, in between the words “care” and “of.” Posing! Now, singing! Yesssss.

What do you think? Do I need to get a more interesting life? Because I’m kind of liking this one.

Now get off my street.

I’ve never met my stoner next-door neighbor, but I just encountered three of her Russian friends in the hallway.

Them: You play a lot of loud rock music!
Me: Yeah. And you smoke a lot of pot!
Them: (total silence)
Me: Too much music?
Them: No, no. Too much pot?
Me: Nope. See you later!
Them: Okay goodbye!