What happened to Andrae?

Dear Project Runway,

As your darling Heidi Klum would say, you're out.
Auf Wiedersehen.
Goodbye.
Go and clean your workspace.
You will not be showing your collection at Bryant Park.

But enough with the catwalk cliches.
The truth is, your forth season blew harder than Hurricane Katrina.

What happened to all the drama of the previous seasons?
No one melted down after a permanent marker moustache mysteriously appeared on a picture of a loved one a la Wendy Pepper. Not one designer pulled a Keith and broke the rules by bringing in contraband material. No one was accused of cheating like Jeffrey. Everyone stayed under budget, unlike Kara Saun and the adventures of the fabulous but overpriced sparkly shoes. Eggs stayed in their baskets and didn't end up on couture dresses (sorry, Michael). No sing-a-longs and no Red Lobster jokes and most importantly, no Tim Gunn impressions (but, to be honest, if they aren't done by Santino, then are they worth doing?)

Don't get me wrong. Your forth season had its moments. Christian is the fiercest bitch ever to grace my television screen and I love David Brent lookalike Chris and his infectious laugh. And I was totally bummed when Jack left for health reasons.

But other than that, you bored me.

Your challenges were uninspiring. Come on, WWE female wrestlers? They ended up looking like Bunny Ranch workers. No wonder the usually poker faced Michael Kors couldn't keep it straight.

You barely used the models. Isn't it a competition for them, as well? How about we see them instead of some bratty high school girls prepping for prom?

The product placement is over the top. I've dealt with hearing Elle Magazine, Tresemme Hair Care and Banana Republic on a loop. I get it. They're your sponsors. But Hershey's? At least the others are fashion related.

Speaking of Hershey's, stop with the wacky concepts for challenges. Let's make something out of Twizzlers and Kisses wrappers! That would be amazing! Where will it stop? Dresses made out of tampons?

It may seem like I'm being harsh on you, Project Runway, but I'm only doing this for your own good. Get it together and make it work!

Forever yours,
Nicole

1girl1post

Good news! Put a fork in it, the writers' strike is over!
Our favorite tv shows will soon be returning. No longer must we turn to lesser quality outlets for our entertainment. Namely, the black hole that is the internet. You're probably saying, "How can she knock the internet? She is writing a blog, isn't she?" And you're right, nameless internet user. I enjoy using the internet and I love to communicate with people all over the world. But let's face it. We don't always surf the web with such noble intentions.

Case in point: the shock site.
Specifically: 2girls1cup.

You know you've seen it.
A video so revolting that our generation of unshakable and seen-it-all teenagers are losing their lunch at the mere mention of it. A video almost too vile that even a vague description here might cause you to run screaming out of the room.

For the uninitiated, let's just say that after you watch it, you'll never be able to eat chocolate ice cream again.

What's most amazing about the video is not that it's spawned two sequels (4girlsfingerpaint and 1girl1pitcher) or that other sickos have released their own videos (don't even get me started on BME Pain Olympics). It's the onslaught of reaction videos on YouTube which have proven that even the disgusting can be hilarious.

This shouldn't be news, though. Toilet humor has been around forever and you'd be hard pressed to find a kid who doesn't laugh at the sound of a fart.

But what does our sick obsession with the strange and weird really mean? Why do we forward these kinds of things to all our friends? Are we that masochistic that torturing ourselves is not enough? We must inflict mental harm on our friends as well?

Whatever the case may be, next time you open your email and see "Check this gross video out!" in the subject line, delete it right away. Or, if you're adventurous, watch it and make your own reaction video. YouTube users are waiting.

Diagnosis: Anglophilia

I have to confess.
I'm an Anglophile.
My love for all things British knows no bounds.
Though I'm pure blooded American (born, in fact, in America's birthplace, Plymouth, Massachusetts) I compulsively listen to British music, gobble up Polo mints, say things like bloody and chuffed and dodgy, all while planting myself firmly in front of the tv for BBC America's Friday night of comedy.

But where did my obsession with the Brits come from?

When I was younger my great aunt always had Are You Being Served? playing in the background of her parlor room. I remember vividly the old hag with the multicolored hair always causing trouble. I thought it a bit silly, but the accents tickled my fancy.

Then, PBS served up another fine dish of Brit tv: Mr. Bean. To me, Mr. Bean was a childlike yet unusual man who bumbled his way through everyday events, always coming home to his faithful yet inanimate best pal, Teddy the teddy bear. It was simply endearing.

Nowadays, it's not much different. British tv still fascinates me. It's not unlikely to find me watching reruns of The Office (yes, it was British before it was American!) or patiently awaiting the return of Doctor Who or hoping Spaced is finally released on DVD in the good ole US of A.

Don't get me wrong. I love American tv, too. Thursday nights at 9pm I'm stupid with excitement waiting for the next installment of Lost. Who gets to go home? Who's left behind? Who's the guy who just parachuted onto the island?

But, I digress.
I guess my love British tv can be narrowed down to this: the accents.
Just kidding.

What I love is its quirky characters, the dry humor, the ability to not take itself too seriously, the awkward silences and even bigger guffaws, and ... okay, the accents. But who could blame me?

Attack of the Viral Marketing

You would think Lost, a critical darling and object of fan obsession, wouldn't need help drumming up excitement for its season 4 premiere. Even eight months without new episodes failed to deter fans from seeking clues to that flashforward featuring a suicidal Jack desperately seeking a way back to the island. So to complement the sometimes knotty but intriguing storylines, the show's marketing team created an elaborate advertisement campaign to coincide with the premiere. Part story and part scavenger hunt, Lost's viral marketing enticed hardcore fans and gave them (some) clues to the island's mysteries. Yet, is such a complicated endeavor worth the risk? JJ Abrams, creator of Lost and producer of Cloverfield, another viral sensation, would definitely say yes.

Lost's viral marketing began when fictitious Oceanic Airlines released a statement announcing their reopening after the disappearance of Flight 815 forced them to shutdown. Soon enough, billboards advertising the company began popping up around the world. Each included a url for the company's website. But all wasn't well for the once defunct airlines; both the website and the billboards were soon hijacked by someone promoting another site, find815.com. What followed was a mad dash by fans for clues as to what exactly was going on with their beloved show.

A similar scramble for clues occurred last summer after the release of a monster movie trailer which featured the shocking image of a beheaded Statue of Liberty. Given only a release date and JJ Abrams' name, moviegoers flocked to the web for answers. What they found was viral marketing that included everything from fictitious company websites to MySpace profiles. Once the movie was officially titled Cloverfield, a buzz reminiscent of The Blair Witch Project had built up to a fever pitch and didn't let up until its release last month.

Abrams and crew had succeeded with what had previously been a hit and miss game: creating a colossal "must see" quality around a project without saying much. Letting the audience participate created buzz from the inside out. Both projects debuted to large audiences, all hungry for the next clue.