Archive for May, 2008

5 out of 10 Feet Up!

Sticklers that we are for legalities, we had to verify the fact that Brittany Robertson was legally 18 before making this post- else we’d be down in Tampa, Florida right now on trial with Max Hardcore. And Brittany, with her thin willowy stork legs and eyes that say I’ve seen vomit, would be Max’s type, that’s for sure. Robertson was born in Charlotte, North Carolina, got involved in community theater, and by age 12 was out in LA auditioning for the big break with every other underage waiter and waitress in that town. Unlike the rest of those sorry losers, Brittany scored big time and was selected to play Michelle Seaver in the “Wonderful World of Disney: Growing Pains: The Return of the Seavers” a title that ran longer than the actual show. Big things are expected of spinner Brittany once she fills out and gains another 50 pounds. But the trollop pose with the kid feet, unfortunately, is a little more than Brittany’s capable of carrying off right now. To be sure, though, Max is eyeing her up once he gets out of the federal penitentiary. So we’re in agreement on one thing. Brittany’s teenybopper “5″s are better off in white ankle socks and red stripper heels. At least for the time being.

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6 out of 10 Feet Up!

Not to be confused with Dabney Coleman, Dabney Mercer is the sister of socialite Tinsley Mortimer as well as pen pal and confidante to the ultra mysterious Lavidia Kowazowski. Now aren’t you glad we straightened that mess out? But if you’re still confused about Dabney, let us explain. Mercer was run over by a car driven by another useless socialite, Lizzie Grubman, at a party in Long Island a bunch of years ago. And this is pretty much Mercer’s claim to fame other than being spoiled past the expiration date. When it was suggested one time in a NY gossip column that Mercer came from “humble beginnings” boy did the Mercers go ape manure. Tinsley’s father, George Mercer, went so far as to inform the perpetrator Lloyd Grove that not only is the family in good standing with the social register, but that Dabney’s ancestor is Thomas Jefferson, that she was raised in the biggest home in central Virginia, that she had a nanny, two gardeners and a butler. And that she was selected to lead the Southern debutante cotillion. Frankly we liked the story about her getting run over by a drunk broad a lot better, and the straight to DVD movie about that horrible incident should be a blast. Proof that abominable styling allows no pedigree, Dabney sports a dress acknowledging Van Gogh’s manic depressive purple period. Still sporting battle wounds from the Grubman incident, Mercer’s left leg is an example of when the Mercedes rubber meets either the road, or your shin. Pity that Dabney’s nanny, butler, two gardeners and Thomas Jefferson didn’t get her proper attention in time. Flaws tend to give your feet that “humble beginnings” look. And, modestly, we offer Dabney a “6″.

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Perfect 10 Feet Up!

As the long suffering wife of Larry David on HBO’s Curb Your Enthusiasm, Cheryl Hines might know a thing or two about a pain in the ass. And while we’d like to manually relieve her of discomfort in that anatomical region, we’d be violating our strict code of personal ethics and by-laws which limit access to strictly the ankle area. Born in Miami Beach and raised in Tallahassee, Cheryl describes her father as “sort of a redneck,” which is like saying you’re sort of knocked up. Hines admits she was pretty much of an all-night partyer and the fact that she attended three different colleges attests to her obvious strong commitment to focusing and staying on message. Hines moved to Los Angeles to pursue an acting career and wound up as personal assistant to Rob Reiner where she must have heard some hilarious toupee stories from his All in the Family days. Gravitating towards comedy, Hines studied the craft along with Lisa Kudrow as both women developed revolutionary strides in the art of the dough-faced double-take. The lessons were learned well. And, as we note from this picture, Hines, in the process, has become a hand on the hip, red carpet event sophisticate with a sense of worldly abandonment. She knows what she’s packing below the knee and isn’t afraid to show it. In one jaunty pose, Cheryl’s on the mark, getting ready and set to go. The starter’s pistol goes off at the count of “10″.

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Perfect 10 Feet Up!

Our first brush with the blond Minnesota sexpot Marissa Coughlan came in the film Super Troopers where we burnt animal sacrifices and offered prayers - which weren’t answered - that she’d get naked. Proof, as far as we’re concerned, that there is no supreme potentate of the universe. In her role as a cop too hot for her department issued panties, Coughlan, formerly of the cast of Boston Legal, was all smolder and sex and went on to do such movies as Teaching Mrs. Tingle and Freddy Got Fingered. Call it our imagination, but we see a pattern clearly developing. That plus the fact that Marissa once appeared on the cover of Stuff magazine convinces us that she’s trying to get in touch with her inner porn star. And this outfit which literally screams stroke my thighs, violate my shapely arches and screw me out of my paycheck affords more than ample proof. Aware of the fact that Marissa graduated from a small, private school in Minneapolis, we could arrange for an intimate cram course for two. And knowing that girls from the Fish Me Out of The Frozen River state, are still susceptible to the come on lines that went out with Jesse Ventura, we’d be cornball as hell, offer her a “10″ and name a toenail in her honor. A pretty good deal, we think.

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7 out of 10 Feet Up!

It’s a known fact that cops pull over red cars more than any other color. So while Lisa Gastineau makes bail from the fashion detention center, let’s ponder some of the significances of her career. If you could call it that. Lisa’s the ex-wife of NFL legend Mark Gastineau. And that’s pretty much it for her cultural accomplishments save for the fact that Lisa got a reported $7.5 million plus their mansion in a very ugly divorce settlement. It was roughly half of Mark’s net worth, and then some, at the time. So with her newly acquired socialite status and license to party, Lisa’s male circle soon included Sly Stallone, George Clooney and mafia don John Gotti- the Manny, Moe and Jack of gossip. At that point, most women would be content to turn over and let the male appendage land where it will. But not Lisa. She invested her money in some of friend Donna Karan’s fashion ventures and now has a license to print her own currency. Together with her daughter Brittny, who apparently lost a vowel somewhere along the way, Lisa was featured in the enormously successful reality series about diamonds, wealth and luxurious living titled, “Gastineau Girls,” a cleverly titled play on the family last name. One can only imagine had Lisa been divorced from pro bowler Sonny Grabowski where she would have landed. While it would appear that plastic surgery has widened Lisa’s smile into a state of riveted, absurd permanence, the spider has also weaved his cunning web around her toes. Do we see things as they are or the way we’d like them to be? Mark Gastineau was obviously lured only to receive the kiss from the black widow. We’re smarter, we think. A quick “7″ gets us out the door and saves on the divorce lawyers. Besides, we also get to keep our patch of land in the trailer park.

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