Anyway, I just wanted to check back in and let you know the blog will likely be on hiatus for a while. In truth, I’m considering scrapping this one altogether and going in a different direction. Of course, when I do, I’ll let you know.

In the meantime, thanks for reading and please enjoy the many fine blogs I’ve linked to in my blog roll.

XOXO,

Dotty Z

I love Halloween so much. It’s my absolute favorite holiday. So just for fun, I decided to jump on eBay and look for my most favorite Halloween costume from childhood—Cheer Bear of the Care Bears. Yep, that’s your old pal Dotty Z up there, the tall one on the right. Sadly, when I did a search, this is one of the items that popped up:

Seriously? Slutty Care Bear costumes? I mean, who ever heard of a slutty Care Bear? And I’m sorry, but there’s something very wrong with combining a beloved children’s character with a slutty, objectifying costume. Very wrong.

This is a publicity shot for Lindsay Lohan’s leggings line. Unfortunately, it looks like an outtake from a yet-to-be-produced film about the life of the stripper Vince Neil married back in the ’80s. BAngieB, please come get your girl!

OK, I normally cannot stand Nancy Grace. And admittedly, this round-table from The Insider is totally ridiculous. However, Nancy Grace busting Jon Gosselin’s ass on national television is fucking hilarious and awesome.

For the past week, I’ve tried to understand why so many celebrities have lined up to support director Roman Polanski. Sure, he’s a talented artist who created Oscar-winning films. And yes, his wife and unborn child were brutally murdered 40 years ago by members of the Manson family. But here’s the thing: HE RAPED A 13-YEAR-OLD GIRL. I don’t give a fuck if he found the cure for cancer after he finished, this man needs to go to jail. Because not only did he drug and rape a child (and don’t give me that “consensual sex” bullshit, as no 13-year-old child can truly consent to sex with a grown man, especially after he’s plied her with qualudes and champagne), he skipped bail and fled the country. So, he’s an ADMITTED child rapist, and a fugitive, and we should feel sorry for him? He’s the victim? I’m sorry, maybe I’m not as enlightened as his fellow “artistes,” because in my mind, that doesn’t make you a victim. It makes you a predator, and a felon, who should serve his time.

Wow, could Dustin Diamond’s book cover look more homemade? It looks like something he put together with Microsoft Paint.

Anywho, Screech of Saved By The Bell fame has dropped his “tell-all” about his former castmates. Some of his revelations:

Diamond alleges co-star Mark Paul Gosselaar was on steroids during their time on Saved By The Bell: The College Years:

“He suddenly exploded with manliness, loading 25 pounds of muscle on his once-scrawny frame in, oh, about a month.”

He also had this to say about behind-the-scenes hookups:

“If Kelly [Tiffani Thiessen] was interested in Slater [Mario Lopez] one week, then backstage there was a lot going between them in Mario [Lopez]‘s room,” he told Us Weekly. “Then, if Jessie [Elizabeth Berkley] kisses Zack, then you know Elizabeth Berkley is going in Mark-Paul’s room.”

Coming from a guy who filed for bankruptcy in 2001, released a sex tape in 2006 and made a total ass of himself on Celebrity Fit Club the following year, I’d say this sounds more like a pathetic attempt at capitalizing on the recent Saved By The Bell reunion (that didn’t include him). It’s unfortunate that a guy who was fairly humorous as a kid grew up to be such a gross, pathetic fame whore.

The new season of Destination Truth on SyFy is really bringing it. While I enjoyed the show before (mostly for the exotic locales and host Josh Gates’ smart-alecky personality), the crew rarely found much evidence of the things they investigated. Not so this season. They’ve bumped it up a notch, actually finding some really creepy evidence on some really creepy/remarkable places.

Like last week, when they went to this remote island in Mexico, that’s supposedly haunted. And also, it’s covered in these creepy-ass dolls. That alone made it one of the scariest episodes to me, but the fact that they actually had some frightening experiences, and caught several pieces of evidence on tape, just made it even better.

But last night, they did something no television crew has ever done before–spend the night investigating King Tut’s tomb.

Even if nothing happened, it’s impressive that the Egyptian government even allowed them to do it in the first place. Not to spoil it, but some stuff did go down (you can watch the full episode here), and it was pretty freaky.

And next week’s episode will likely be even freakier, as they investigate in the abandoned city of Prypiat, near Chernobyl in the Ukraine (formerly part of the Soviet Union). For those who don’t remember (or weren’t born yet), a reactor at the nuclear power plant exploded in 1986, sending four hundred times more radiation fallout into the area as was released by the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Many people were killed, and many others exposed to the radiation, which caused catastrophic health damage. The city was abandoned, as it was, and still is, radioactive. I’d venture to say an abandoned, radioactive city might just be the thing to out-creep a tomb full of mummies and an island of scary dolls. Tune in Wednesday at 10 p.m. to find out!

Mackenzie Phillips has a new memoir out today, High on Arrival, that documents her turbulent life and struggles with substance abuse. But the big bombshell, which she’ll discuss on Oprah today, is something that has me (and the rest of America) completely horrified and disgusted: she had sex with her father, musician John Phillips.

Photo from Life Magazine.

Though she says at some point the sex became “consensual,” it’s very hard to believe that any daughter could ever actually consent to having sex with her father. The power dynamic between a father and daughter almost ensures that just isn’t possible. Throw in massive substance abuse, and you have an even more unlikely scenario of “consent.”

According to Phillips, the first encounter happened when she was 19, and can certainly be classified as a case of rape:

“On the eve of my wedding, my father showed up, determined to stop it,” writes Phillips, who was 19 and a heavy drug user at the time. “I had tons of pills, and Dad had tons of everything too. Eventually I passed out on Dad’s bed.”
“My father was not a man with boundaries. He was full of love, and he was sick with drugs. I woke up that night from a blackout to find myself having sex with my own father.”
“Had this happened before? I didn’t know. All I can say is it was the first time I was aware of it.”

Knowing this was happening, it’s no surprise that Phillips had serious problems with drug abuse, problems that have followed her into adulthood (she was arrested as recently as 2008 for cocaine possession). While some have questioned the timing of this revelation as a ploy to drive book sales, or unfair as her father is no longer alive, and therefore, unable to tell his side (John Phillips died in 2001), I see it another way. With her father gone, she feels she can tell the story without hurting him. Because even though he did this horrific thing to her, she still loves and defends him, which makes the whole thing even more disturbing.