Things I'd Like to Forget from 2006

Last year, I filched an idea from Arianna Huffington at the Huffington Post and did a blog entry on the "Things I'd Like to Forget from 2005." Now that the new year is upon us, I decided that forgetting the bad and remembering the good was such a spiffy tradition, I'd like to do it again. So without further ado, here are the things I'd like to forget from 2006. Happy New Year!

• Any celebrity whose ribs are visible where their cleavage should be. Bony is not pretty. Beautiful women have booties, girlfriends!

• That Pluto is no longer a planet. I don't like change.

• Crotch shots, any and all.

• That the number of US troops who have died in Iraq is now greater than the number who died in the 9/11 attacks, and the war itself has gone on longer than our involvement in World War II.

• Michael Richards and Mel Gibson. Here's a freebie from the clue factory--if it talks like a racist pig, it IS a racist pig. Spewing vile garbage and then acting like you don't know where it came from is ridiculous. It came from YOOOOOUUUUUU.

• That orphaned babies from Africa are being touted in the tabloids as "celebrity accessories." A baby is not an accessory, you soul-less losers.

• That I spent more than a fleeting second contemplating why Ashlee Simpson had suddenly become likable by simply dropping a few thousand on plastic surgery and extensions.

• Mark Foley's pickup lines.

• That not enough people realized the camp brilliance that was Snakes on a Plane. Go rent the video, people! It's hilarious!

• V for Vendetta. Here's a lesson for all you girls out there: If a guy hides behind a mask, tortures you within in an inch of your life, shaves your head, and wants to blow up the world, DO NOT MAKE OUT WITH HIM! He is a LOSER and you can do BETTER. Grow a pair of ovaries and find someone who deserves you.

• The mental image of Danny DeVito having sex in the White House, or anywhere for that matter. Eeeeeeuuuuwwwww.

• That Anne Heche's character on her stupid new TV show has the same name as my daughter. If Marin becomes the new Emma, I'm SO coming after you, Celestia.

• That our air is such a toxic mess of chemical soup, my babies already have allergies and possibly asthma.

• That people so easily forget that Tara Reid is a crackhead just because after several years of fame, homegirl finally got a stylist who isn't dropping acid. We are so easily swayed by appearances. How many chances would Britney have gotten if she were ugly?

• Lindsay Lohan's illiterate Blackberry eulogy to Robert Altman. Our education system is in need of a serious overhaul....

• Those industry-paid scientists who are still saying global warming doesn't exist.

• Those "Mrs. *MY BOYFRIEND'S NAME HERE*" T-shirts. You have a name, girlfriend, and you're worth being addressed as an individual.

• Whitney Houston's behavior on her ex-husband's reality show. Here's to ditching the loser, getting off the drugs, and being the diva you were meant to be.

• That I didn't buy my grandma that "Don't You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me" T-shirt at that street fair when I had the chance. It would have cracked her up.

• That the violence in Sudan and Uganda is still going on and getting worse.

• K-Fed, Fed-Ex, and any other hygiene-challenged Feds splashed all over my trashy magazines.

• My continuing sad addiction to trashy magazines. I can't even use the "I'm living in Korea and they're my strange connection to home" excuse any more.

• That the Pussycat Dolls are still here and churning out "hits." (At least they kept their undies on, if little else.)

• That '70s "jiggle TV" is back, in the form of unchallenging game shows with briefcase toting bimbos in tiny dresses. "The need for feminism is over," my big butt. Do you see half-clothed men standing around holding briefcases and caressing flashcards on TV while the women do the talking and get paid the big bucks? No, you do not. We had one smartass female game show host, and she was fired and sent back to England--probably because of the neck-to-ankle coats she wore. Women are not to be used as decorations, Howie, William, and anyone else out there who wants to embrace this disturbing throwback trend.

• The morbid photos of Saddam Hussein with the noose around his neck. Yes, he was a violent dictator, but the pictures were creepy and a little too cavalier, IMHO.

• That Miss Nevada thought the good people of her state would still let her represent them after those creepyass party photos were released. Here's another freebie from the clue factory: When you're on camera trying to lick your own breasts, it's OVER, honey. Turn in your sash and begin anew.

• That whole OJ thing. Yuck.

• That Val Kilmer, my high school crush, is now being compared to a whale. Oh, how the mighty have fallen ... into a giant vat of fried dough, apparently.

• That it's been over a year since Marin was born, and I still haven't gotten rid of the last ten pregnancy pounds or rediscovered my waist.

• The way Tom Cruise sucked all the fun out of Katie Holmes. It was a sad spectacle to behold.
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• That Victoria Beckham (aka Posh Spice) hasn't dieted herself invisible yet.

• That repeat drunk drivers still don't get a mandatory bitchslap and 20-year sentence.

• That Naomi Campbell thinks it's OK to beat the cleaning lady.

• The image of Borat (aka Sacha Baron Cohen) giving himself a neon yellow thong-wedgie. My retinas are burning! My retinas are burning!

• The idea of Screech releases a sex tape. Get a JOB, dude.

• The painstaking pop media documentation of year #2 of Jennifer Aniston's sad-sack life, post Brad. Grow a pair of ovaries, get a new haircut, ditch the black dresses, and stop clutching your pashminas like they're security blankets! And would it kill you smile for once? Perhaps, suggests my brother Troy, finding a nice 20-something boy toy would help, too.

• That TSA confiscated my Body Shop lip gloss at an airport checkpoint, because apparently Candy Pink Lip Shimmer is a threat to national security. And here I thought it just looked nice with my complexion....

• The Diet Coke and fruit gummy binge I went on during my last book deadline. I'm STILL twitching.

• That Austria was invaded by yellow sack spiders. I never, ever want to hear the words "spider" and "invasion" used together in a sentence again. GAH.

• Bubble skirts. Go back to the Land of Fugly from whence you came.

• Ditto to ankle boots.

• And of course, a mandatory ditto to skinny jeans. Here's a helpful equation for today's trendsetters: Anyone with a butt + skinny jeans = denim-encased turnip. No woman wants to look like a denim-encased turnip. I'm just sayin'.

• The tragic and completely idiotic accident that temporarily crippled my beloved Frankenshoe (aka my Toyota Scion XB). As well as the fact that Ms. Dumber Than a Bag of Hair drove HER car away from the scene HER idiot driving skills caused, while I had to beg the mentally deficient community service officer to give me a ride home so I didn't have to walk eight miles in the dark lugging a car seat and a box of books on my back.

• The Cutting Edge sequel. What an unmitigated disaster.

• Not seeing Michelle Kwan in the winter Olympics.

• The rumors that Jessica Alba might be playing Wonder Woman.

• That someone found my blog by searching for the words "Fat Woman Sad."

• That my husband could next in line to go to Iraq (AGAIN)from his facility because the woman ahead of him says she's too heavy to go. (Yes, I have tried stuffing the boy with Krispy Kremes, but then he gets up and walks across the room, thereby burning all of the extra calories. I seethe with jealousy over his metabolism.)

• That lumpy mess Gwen Stefani wore on Saturday Night Live a few weeks ago. Cat suits with belts directly under your armpits are not flattering.

• That New Orleans is still not rebuilt, and that experts are now saying the entire state of Louisiana is sliding into the ocean. Why Louisiana? Why, God, why? And would You consider taking Florida instead?