Widow of Aaron Spelling pays $47M for LA condo

You know, Candy Spelling is a single gal now. She doesn't need to be weighed down by that 56,000 sq. ft. mansion. Candy 2.0 doesn't need eleven bedrooms. She's not Krystal Carrington any more, she's Amanda Woodward now! Okay, maybe she's just more Alexis Colby these days. Wait, does that means she'll get in catfights with herself? Eh, just stay away from Moldavia.

Getting a condo to fit her new single-gal lifestyle seems like a fresh, kicky start for the billionaire widow. How about a $47M condo with a 4,000 sq. ft. master suite? I would really love to see how this technically falls into the definition and classification of a "condominium." Wonder what the monthly association dues are like? Does that include trash and water? What's sad, or frightening, is that in her world, and compared to the disgusting display of wealth she lived in before Aaron died, this really is downsizing. Who the hell needs that much room? Her master suite s bigger than many family homes. And how detached must you be from middle-class reality that this ever seems like a proper amount to shell out for shelter? Even as an investment, sheesh. She could bail out entire third world countries. Hell, she could do this one a solid and become Candy Mae and Candy Mac. All while over on Tori & Dean, Tori and her talentless husband scrape together their Lifetime-movie pennies (which reminds me of this, damn insomnia, although it did put me to sleep) and Oxygen-crap reality nickels to buy an overpriced home in an exclusive overpriced gated community "suitable" for their growing family. For the love of Capt. Stubbing, those kids are going to grow up without a gift wrap room! But I swear, I've never seen that show. 

Life has been kind of crappy lately. I am just now getting over some weird flu-virus-blech, although at least I didn't get it until after my birthday. My biggest activities since last weekend included sleep, being bored out of my achy skull, and drinking my weight in Sierra Mist and ginger ale. Here are some flu-haze observations:

- Whole Grain Pop-Tarts are wrongwrongwrong. Pop-Tarts are a comfort food for me. Makes sense, they are basically little pies, flat, rectangular, with Sprinkles! WGPTs are not nearly as tasty as the originals. When looking at the nutritional values, WGPTs and OGPTs have the same amount of fat. WGPTs have ten fewer calories, a skosh less sodium, two grams more of fiber, and a little less sugar. So more fiber will help process the fat and sugar, blah, blah, bllllppptt. It's a Pop-Tart. If that's first choice for brekkie, nutrition is probably not guiding your decision. These foil-wrapped rectangles of sugar, fat, jam, and joy will only be considered "healthy" if they are "Organic Spinach WGPTs with Added Omega-3," and even Popeye would pass. The fewer calories and less sugar in the WGPTs can most likely be attributed to the sad drizzle of frosting in lieu of the traditional sheet of rigid frosting on originals, no Sprinkles! The WGPTs just don't warrant the sacrifice in taste. Plus, they leave behind whole-grain debris, so the taste lingers. Now, Low Fat Strawberry Pop-Tarts are a different story. Those are a little gift from above for anyone who has ever banked Shmeight Watchers points for a sweets fix. Because then we're talking twice the tarts!
 

- Hulu hates me. Never has been my friend. Yes, I know, Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog debuted a few days ago, with the next chapter up today. And in my flu-haze, I still remembered to check it out Tuesday because I am that big of a geek. I did not, however, have the patience to wait for the crashed site to come back up, or deal with Hulu once it did. So I downloaded from iTunes, which due to my slow-ass home connection (probably the reason for Hulu-hate, but can work around it with other sites, so what gives?), it took like eighty-seven hours. Okay, maybe it just felt that way. Totally worth it though.  And now I don't feel quite so loony for pondering the idea of a musical Firefly episode back in the day. Le sigh.

- That '70s Show is now on ABC Family and F/X. So it is on approximately twelve hours a day. Yeah, it definitely felt that way. One of them is airing the Officer Kelso season. Nuff said? Yep, channel changed.

- People magazine really is just as annoying when trapped in a flu-haze. Actually, the irritating vapid gave me a tension headache on top of my "fever" headache. I didn't even attempt to read Entertainment Weekly. Even though some consider it pop-culture vapid, I still enjoy it and look forward to my weekly fix, but feared Diablo Cody's column might provoke a seizure.

- Once "Mamma Mia" gets stuck in your head, it stays there. Forever. Just when you think it's gone, you find out it was only lying in wait to attack again. Or is that just the movie promo that plays every ten minutes? Yeah, I'm a movie musical whore, guilty pleasure developed as a kid, so I know I will see it at some point (Lily Kane singing ABBA!), when just depends on if I want to spend money, and how much. And after I see Hellboy and The Dark Knight--must complete the Summer of Superheroes.

- I may not get a flu shot this year. True, this flu seemed to be more of a stomach virus, so not exactly the kind covered by the vaccine. But while I looked for something to watch without the need for concentration, and I actually wasn't in the mood for any of my DVDs, I came up with the genius idea that I would put my flu shot money toward a new DVD collection to watch if and when I get sick. Because this is the second time I've been sick since last fall when I got my first flu shot in eons. Maybe season two of Supernatural or something from the Angel collection (some day, TNT will take it off the air), demons seem apropos to "celebrate" the flu. Well, maybe not genius, but still not the worst idea I've ever had. 

I decided a while back to curtail my celebrity snark. Really, even if you live in Bumfrack, Texas, pop. 81, talking about them, even snarking, only feeds the monster, especially the rabid beast called Famewhore. Like if we all just ignore them, maybe they'll go away. Maybe if the paparazzi realized that nobody cares who Paris Hilton lunches with on any given afternoon before she goes to work shopping for a living. Maybe if Paris Hilton would realize that too and quit showing up where she knows the razzi wait to snap her picture. And then Perez Hilton (referred to in my world as "the site that shall not be named") might just evaporate from the Internet. Sigh.

Anyway, I never dined on the dish of celebrity gossip, invasions of the private lives of folks who understand that fame may be a job duty as public figures, enjoy some perks but don't relish being famous. But there was this mental list of people who begged for attention in the media that always had a snark greenlight. If you show up at the opening of an envelope with an entourage of social vampires, sloppy drunk and flashing your cooter while handing out cards for free stress tests to glib souls, that's called open season.

My point? Michael Lohan just revitalized my list. And he's only the Famewhore Father of a Celebrity! While chatting on the phone with my cattiest of pals about Denise Richards-It's Complicated (you know if she could, she'd legally change her name to her show's moniker), and how Dina Lohan's show is more watchable for ten minute blocks (any more, synapses may misfire), she mentioned reading on "the site that shall not be named" about an announcement that Papa Lohan teased the "press" about all week. Well, he officially told all last night at a "press conference" in Hollywood. Papa Lohan was there to announce two things: a new online comedy series in which he co-stars, Wannabeme.tv (refuse to hyperlink), and the possibility of an illegit 13-year-old half-sis for Lindsay (and competition for Ali!). He said that he hadn't yet told the four kiddos who share his last name about their possible new sib because his visitation rights aren't being respected, and he's "not going to do it over the phone."

Bravo, Papa Lohan! You just won D-bag Dad of the Year for airing your dirty laundry at a PRESS CONFERENCE. Nobody in that family ever watches E! or scans tabloids, they certainly didn't already read about it on THE INTERNET. A preemptive phone call sounds pretty freaking swell right about now, genius.

I would've easily been able to roll my eyes, disgustedly close the browser window, and be on my merry if it hadn't been for this little quote that also caught my eye:

If I wasn't Lindsay's dad or Michael Lohan, this wouldn't be getting any attention," he said.

There's something inherently wrong with that statement. Correction: "If I wasn't Lindsay's dad or Michael Lohan, this wouldn't be getting any attention." Because if he wasn't Lindsay Lohan's father, who she screeched about in a pop song that painted him as Father Knows Anger, then nobody outside of his family and friends, and enemies and cellmates, would know who Michael Lohan is, or care unless he missed a child support payment.
 

And what is the "this" he is referring to? His illegit kid from an extramarital affair? Or his little ol' Web site? Because I'm thinking both. Hey, Mike, you also just won the Nobody Cares Award! What a weekend!
 

HBO Pays Tribute to George Carlin

Early Monday morning when I saw the headline about George Carlin's death in my news feed, I was saddened and confused. I hadn't read or watched or listened to any news yet, but it wasn't even in every feed, so maybe it could be some stupid Hollywood rumor gone wrong, right? After days of coverage of Tim Russert's sudden death, I figured it would be reported at least in every entertainment oriented feed. Then I clicked on the link and learned it was indeed true. Now there are Carlin tributes everywhere you look, especially all over the net, which is a fitting tribute for someone who railed against censorship on the foundation of freedom of speech, which in turn contributed to one of the best lectures of my old Media Law class (one of my absolute favorites). I don't know, maybe news outlets were weary from over-saturation after the near constant coverage of Russert's death (couldn't you just hear him saying, "Thanks guys, it's overwhelming how much you miss and respect me, but isn't there some news to cover? Massive flood in the Midwest? What are McCain and Obama up to?"), but it doesn't really matter because George Carlin isn't around to comment on it.

As a tribute, HBO is airing all of his comedy specials this week on the various HBOs and NBC will air the first episode of SNL hosted by Carlin on Saturday night. As entertaining as that may be (knowing that Carlin was coked out of his mind like all of the other legendary players not ready for primetime), Carlin's final interview given to Psychology Today on June 13 covering his writing process and beliefs about comedy is a true tribute.

Oh, and on the same day, we learned that actress and comedian Dody Goodman died. Funny has had a tough damn week. Grease is the word and Blanche will be missed . . .
Blanche: When I hear music, I just can't make my feet behave.
Sonny: Thinks she's Tinkerbell.
Blanche: Hush, Sonny.

Happy Father's Day to all the papas! I didn't get a chance to write a list of my favorite TV dads for Father's Day like I did for the moms. Lately poor time management is my greatest enemy. Kind of bummed because I had ideas mulling for it. Eh, doesn't matter, missed the "deadline." But, besides giving my Daddy-o a long distance shout out on this fine day (the USPS better not let me down!), and wishing all other fabulous fathers a great day, I can still offer a few links honoring pop culture pops. And without rambling comment on each! Consider that a bonus giftie, hee!

Who is your favorite pop culture dad?

The 10 Maddest Baddest Daddies in Film

TV Single Dads Hall of Fame

A Father's Day Quiz: Beloved TV Dad

Father's Day: TV Dads We Love

Buddy TV's 15 Hottest TV Dads

TVGuide's TV's Most Memorable Dads

I'm almost finished with Nikki Sixx's Heroin Diaries (the tale of Sixx's twisted trip to Rock Bottom, weighed down by baggage stuffed with drugs and depression--that he is still around to tell this story and help others by sharing is amazing). Last night, I read an entry where he mentioned filming a promo in 1987 for an MTV contest called the Motley Cruise to Nowhere. Mia actually stumbled onto the promos a few months ago on YouTube (this version has some editing issues). I had never seen it before then and can't believe I forgot about it. It falls into the Star Wars Holiday Special:"So Bad It's Good" category.

Teee-heee-heeee. I laugh, I wince, I laugh, I gape, I laugh, well, you get the picture. Take every '80s cliche, add a stupid script, rock band, girls, and alcohol, mix on a yacht, simmer in the sun, and BAM!, seven minutes of chuckle-worthy cheesetastic video. This has (manager) Doc McGee written all over it, may be goofier then the stuff MTV did with Bon Jovi. It's pretty obvious how messed up Nikki was at this point, not just because he is skinny and gray, but because he's barely featured in it. Mick Mars gets more air time.

How do I pick a favorite part? The cheesey graphics and "special" effects. Mick's "I can't stand whining" followed by Vince Neil pretending to throw his now ex-wife (three wives ago?) overboard. The pirate shtick. The dumbass narration. The wretched "acting." The prize package containing a supply of Canoe cologne. The fact that Nikki wrote about this promo in his diary, and yet Vince is the one pretending to write in his journal, like he ever wrote down anything but chicks' digits. The mirrored sunglasses. The spiral perms. Vince and Tommy Lee ridiculously outfitted in matching skull shorts.Yeah, that may be it. Although, knowing that the two dudes who won the contest showed up in drag, and Tommy thought one was a "smokin' hot" chick, well, that's a contender.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mammas! My mom is a rockstar. I don't know what I'd do without her, just saying she's the greatest doesn't do her justice. Being a mom is such hard work, any kind of mom, single, married, working, stay-at-home, younger, older, it doesn't matter--they're all rockstars.
 
To commemorate this fine spring day, I stumbled on a few links celebrating moms in TV and pop culture.

Check out Biography.com's TV Moms section. Trivia, timelines, quizzes, all celebrating the glory of TV moms. It got me thinking about my favorites. . .

Favorite Non-Technicolor Black-and-White Mom
Laura Petrie, with Morticia Addams a close second
Coolest Mom
Samantha Stevens because of the nose twitch alone! 
Favorite Single Mom
I was raised by a single mom, so this one has always been close to home. Lorelai Gilmore rocks socks, but Ann Ramono managed teenaged Julie AND Barbara one day at a time ("so up on your feet, up on your feet"), and was my fave. Sorry Alice, but life will still be so sweeeeet. And Willona Woods, who was all kinds of fabulous providing good times for lil' Penny.
Kookiest Mom
Jessica Tate. Or Mary Campbell. Well, they were sisters. Marion Cunningham could be a little kooky too, but Edith Bunker takes the prize for ditziest mom with the best intentions, though.
Classic '80s Sitcom Mom
As much as I love Elise Keaton, it has to be Claire Huxtable. Law career, five kids, Cliff, and no nanny/housekeeper, she's not a mom, she's a superhero. What did Carol Brady do all day?
'80s Mom with the Most Sass
Roseanne may have been the most realistic snarky mom, but nobody delivered sass like Peggy Bundy.
Fave '90s Sitcom Mom
Well, for me, it can only be Kitty Foreman. She's sassy and kooky too. Hello Wisconsin! Marge Simpson is second because that's the last time I liked watching her grumble over her kids.
Most Understanding Mom
Joyce Summers, because honestly, she coped pretty damn well once she learned her daughter was a vampire slayer. And she completely accepted Dawn as her own even after her brain tumor "revealed" the truth. I still laugh at "Band Candy," and I'm not discussing "The Body" today.

Wow, that was tougher than I thought. A lot of my favorite shows either don't feature mothers (what's up with that, network execs?) or, a lot of times, those broads royally suck at being moms (looking at you, Lianne Mars). I mean, Cordelia gave birth on Angel but it's not like Jasmine was a blessing. And can the Log Lady on Twin Peaks really be considered a mother to her pine bambino?

Sadly, the list leaves off some of my favorite badass moms, those who didn't always fit the mold. Like The O.C. isn't even mentioned on the list (mon dieu!), but Julie Cooper kicked Kiki Cohen's boring booty. She may not have been the best mom with her "marry a rich man, any rich man, even your 'best' friend's father" philosophy, and her career choice as a madame, but she eventually came into her own, and stood on her own (legally), while stealing every scene. And I hate to tell the listmakers, but Cindy Walsh wasn't the only mom on Beverly Hills 90210. Jackie Taylor Silver was much more entertaining than the almost robotic Mrs. Sweetness-n-Light. From snorting coke at the mother-daughter fashion show to shacking up with Mel Silver, Jackie was a skosh self-centered, true, but still awesome to watch, and could never be mistaken as a long lost cast member of Small Wonder (did you know Brian Austin Green was on that show too?). Then there's Emily Gilmore. Catty, stuffy, snobby, spiteful, and sometimes downright mean, she was the perfect foil for Lorelai. Marcia Cross made the list as Deperate Houswives'  Bree, but they totally forgot when she stole Jo's baby on Melrose Place as Psycho Kimberly. My favorite baddass mom was Endora from Bewitched. I watched Sam's adventures in mortal domesticity every day in reruns when I was kid, thank you, TBS! As much as I adored Samantha for being able

to fix things with a twitch of the nose, the best episodes always included a visit from Endora. Poor Durwood. But the most badass matriach I've seen on TV lately is Flower from Meerkat Manor. She lead the Whiskers for five years before that deadly snake bite. Rocket Dog, her very own daughter, took over the family, too. Long live Flower!

So who did I forget? Got any to add to the list?

More Momtastic Links

You can vote for your favorite top ten TV moms at TV Land.

Test your noggin with a quiz about Moms in the Movies.

Moviefone will also try to stump you with a pop quiz about Movie Moms and Daughters

And Time lists the Ten Best and Ten Worst Moms Ever in Pop Culture

With that rebel Jeff Zucker behind the monster truck wheel at NBC, the peacock network released it's lineup for the 2008-2009 season this week, a good six weeks before the traditional upfront presentations that Zucker has decided to shun (he's calling it an "infront," har-har). And since entertainment chief Ben Silverman is his navigator, that means there's some good, a lot of bad, and definitely some ugly on the roster. Aw, come on, it's been a while for the GBU, I can't help myself.

The Good
Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't lose! For real, ya'll. NBC's deal with DirecTV is official for Friday Night Lights. As much as I knock Silverman, he did make season three happen. Kudos, Benji. Next season, thirteen episodes featuring the Dillon Panthers will appear on DirecTV's subscriber based 101 channel in the fall and then on NBC in 2009. Jason Katims hopes to get writers to work as soon as possible with production slated to begin in July. Well, barring a SAG strike. But this is good news, so let's not visit the recent breakdown between AFTRA and SAG.

ER will say goodbye after fifteen seasons. Finally.

Ian McShane is set to star in Kings, a show about "exploration of the timeless David vs. Goliath struggle." It will be strange to see Swearengen not swear on the telly.

Donal Logue is joining Life when it returns. Damien Lewis and Donal Logue. Redheads Rule! (not that I'm biased or anything)

Heroes and Chuck are still partnered as the pitch perfect antidote to my Monday blues.

Silverman's fave 30 Rock got a full season renewal. It even won a Peabody this week, so added to the awards it has garnered already this is not a real surprise, just good news.

The Bad
Knight Rider got a pickup. Consider kudos retracted, Silverman.
 
Scrubs is done at NBC after this season. That's a little sad but not the big bad. The badness actually concerns rumors that ABC may pick it up. I love Scrubs (watched so much I know dialogue) but isn't it time to end? Unless the remaining episodes at NBC can't send it off properly, just let it flatline already. Please, before I lose all luh-ove for it. Not even pitch perfect Dr. Cox and Turk can balance out the annoyance that has become JD any more. Doesn't Braff have a movie to direct with an "adult contemporary alternative" soundtrack featuring at least one whiny British dude, loads of acoustic guitar, and Imogen Heap? (And I say that as someone known to indulge in the guilty pleasure of whiny British dudes, acoustic guitar, and Imogen Heap).

A new mother-daughter sitcom called Kath & Kim starring Molly Shannon and Selma Blair. Does Molly Shannon look old enough to play Selma Blair's mom? That can't be their relationship, right? Eh, not generally a fan of either, especially Blair's wooden delivery.

Thursday Night Live, an extra special dose of political satire leading up to the elections. Really, the time we already spend together not laughing isn't enough? Let's take a guess as to what we'll see. Lots of Darrell Hammond doing spot-on impressions. Plenty of  Amy Poehler. Seth Meyers trying to crack wise. And an extra dose of Samberg's SNL Digital Shorts. Yeah, only if there is a change in the balance of Kristen Wiig and Kenan Thompson appearances. She is a comedic goddess. Can't say the same for Good Burger.

Camelot? Merlin? Crusoe? Why does "original" programming seem to be such a turn-off for NBC?

The Ugly
Lipstick Jungle was renewed. I caught a repeat of it on Bravo late one Sunday night while trying to fall asleep. Twenty minutes and the Zs came easily. Not even for the love of Andrew McCarthy would I watch it again. And after I saw Pretty in Pink when I was eleven, I spent an entire Sunday night dinner at my grandparents staring at his picture in Teen Tiger Bop Beat Magazine. I also saw Fresh Horses and Mannequin in the theater. That's some stalkerific tween devotion right there.

They are planning a spin-off of The Office. Why? Duh, to mess with a good thing, of course! So do they consider the spin-off of a remake "original"? If you're interested in details, including a Will Arnett rumor (NBC, you evil bastards!), here you go. I only skimmed because I refuse to acknowledge it exists until production starts (lalalalala, I can't hear you!). Avoidant much?
 
In other telly news . . .

A little while ago, I read that Rob Thomas was developing a pilot for ABC in addition to Cupid Redux and writing the Recycling 90210 pilot (maybe "creative conservation" is an unclear-on-the-concept effort by the networks to go green). It is a go, according to E!'s TV Diva Kristin Dos Santos. This one is the remake (three makes you Remake Rob, my friend) of an hourly from New Zealand called Outrageous Fortune. The big news, though, is that Kristen Bell is in talks to star. Yeah, yeah, what about Heroes and Gossip Girl? Well, she isn't signed for too many episodes as Elle next season and she can literally phone in her XOXOs, right? In addition to KB, Rene Russo is rumored to be up for the role of her mother. Love her, she's smart, sometimes goofy, and can kick serious ass. Hmm, that sounds like casting perfection. Okay, Remake Rob, once again, I am your bitch, which is a good thing since it seems you are fighting for primetime domination.

CBS greenlit another series starring the lovely Simon Baker. Well, I guess being canceled twice doesn't mean squat when it comes to a contract. First The Guardian and then Smith, two CBS shows I enjoyed and not just for the Australian eye candy that is Simon Baker. (We won't mention how many times I've caught Something New on the HBOs or how I wish there was video on-line of The Daily Show interview during his scruffy summer hiatus talking about how he doesn't wear deodorant because he drinks so much water his super-hydrated sweat doesn't give off toxic fumes and I didn't bat an eyelash at the absurdity of it because his grin hypnotized me). Jonny Lee Miller was in Smith, too, heh. Anyway, The Mentalist is about a guy "who uses his special gifts to help the police as an independent detective." So a little like Psych without the yuk-yuks, I'm guessing. And Owain Yeoman. Sure, fine, whatever, I dig mysteries and, from time to time, like to wade in the shallow end (will it be paired with Moonlight?), so I'll check it out.

I don't watch basketball. Don't hate it, don't love it, just not my game. I still like it better than baseball, which puts me to sleep at home and the ballpark (that can probably be blamed on hot dogs and beer, actually). So, I'm not exactly enthralled by March Madness, but I've noticed around the wide world of webs that folks set up their own versions of mad bracket elimination games. My favorite last year was Band Madness, but it doesn't seem to be up this year. So, I decided to snoop around and see what other March Madness-style online timekillers I could find in the land of pop culture.

Fug Madness Heather and Jessica set up four brackets at Go Fug Yourself. Round one eliminations begin this week in the Cher, Madonna, Bjork, and Charo brackets. Go, snark, vote! As of Wednesday, Courtney Peldon beat out her sister Brown (née Ashley) Peldon to go up against Lindsay Lohan in the Cher Bracket. Aw, hon, I don't know if even the pre-Crispin Glover ensembles can take down Lohan's love affair with leggings.

Lost Madness The Washington Post created elimination brackets for the Losties and Others. Voting has already started and the end is near, so if you want to see who kicked Charlie's ass, check it out. What? That's not a spoiler. It's fate, brother.

At Fafarazzi.com, home of Fantasy Celebrity Leagues, members can set up a bracket to compete in the site's Celebrity March Madness. It's free to join and play. "NOTE: Brit is banned from the tourney this year!"

The blog We Listen For You posted March Music Madness with a ballot that includes 64 bands. Rules for the bands are: "They had to release an LP in the last four years. Couldn't have an LP before 1985. Have to still be a band/alive." Voting for Round Two starts on Thursday.

Stepping off the entertainment path, I actually ran across two versions of Beer Madness this year.

Beer Madness You can't vote in this one, but you can see how 32 beers performed in "blind tastings of head-to-head beer match-ups, with one simple voting criteria: 'Which beer would you rather be drinking?'"

Like Lost Madness, the Washington Post's Beer Madness is interactive. Currently it's in the second round. Even though I'm not a big fan of dark beers, my Abita allegiance guaranteed a vote for Turbodog.

Okay, if you never acquired a taste for beer, how about candy?

ZOMG, Candy! is in the final round of Candy Bar Madness. Reese’s Pieces vs. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Leave a comment in addition to voting and your name is dropped into the hat for Baskin-Robbins gift certificates.

Is 2008 the year of The Underdog? It kind of seems like it is in the land of pop culture. Here are a few recent examples:

First, the Giants defeated the Patriots in the Super Bowl. I loathe the Patriots (am a Packers gal; farewell Brett, sniff sniff). Tom Brady and Bill Belichick rile those feelings even more. So it may be petty, but it's football and I really did not want to see them have the perfect season. My rule is to root for The Underdog if a fave is not in the game. When in doubt, I also generally stand by boys from the SEC, so Eli Manning won me over too. Seeing them pull out a 17-14 nail biter in the fourth quarter was thrilling.

Finally, Project Runway's Chris March made it to the finale (sorta). Sure, Jillian created some fabulous work, Rami has an elegant, refined style, and Christian backs up his fierceitude with fierce skills. Last week, Chris lost to Rami for a spot in the final three. Doesn't matter. The once auffed Chris took his second chance all the way to the "semi-finals" (the hair ensembles didn't gross me out, figure Ty-Ty wears more store-bought hair for an ANTM panel). And the show always has an additional designer for Bryant Park shows to throw off spoilersluts. Being one of the final five (even Sweet P showed) meant his hair-enhanced creations still made it to the big show. How many designers can say that?