Be-bagged Husband flees TV/movie star

Click here and here for photographic evidence of Husband, laden with bags, crossing the street in front of Kiefer Sutherland.

No word on the identity of that short chick who's all up in Kiefer's rear.

Yeah, I know it's Hagar. Still.

So crazy Britney has been placed on "mental health evaluation hold," or "5150 hold."

All I know is, in the 8th grade I spent a lot of time on 5150 hold, too. I loved "Love Walks In."

Viktor Schreckengost, 1906-2008

Artist and industrial designer Viktor Schreckengost died on Saturday.

Though he made astounding contributions to art and design in America, I loved him for his household design, specifically, the china patterns he produced for Salem and American Limoges. I remain an avid collector of his Southwind and Parsley patterns (the latter of which, by featuring parsley on the rim of the dish, provided diners with ready-garnished plates). Someday, when I have enough money, I would love to get my hands on some Primitive and Flower Shop -- these patterns are rare and expensive. But it wasn't always that way: Viktor believed that you didn't have to have a lot of money to enjoy beautiful china. In its day, it was quite affordable. He brought unique design to the everyday American kitchen -- and he was a Clevelander.

In early 2007 Viktor, with the help of his assistant, began selling some of his personal items on eBay. I purchased two Mettlach plates that were owned by Viktor and his first wife, Nadine Averill. His assistant, Craig, found them in an old buffet on the second floor of Viktor's house, and he believes they most likely belonged to Nadine's mother. I mention this purchase because the respect with which Viktor's assistant cared for the master and his possessions was clear: even though I had purchased the plates, and they were no longer his problem, Craig felt more comfortable driving the 15 miles from Cleveland to hand-deliver them to my home so that he could be sure they would not break in the mail.

If Craig and I are any indication, Viktor's legacy is in good hands.

That little pocket is really useless

Jemaine Clement's talents are not limited to "Flight of the Conchords" and those Outback Steakhouse commercials. His narration for this hilarious advertisement is, in a word, brilliant.

Dear Cohutta, I love you even more, if that is possible. Love, Grilled Cheese Sandwich.

If you saw this past week's episode of "The Real World," you might have fallen in love with Cohutta as I have. Or if you were already in love with him, perhaps you developed an even deeper respect for the Southern-accented, surprisingly reasonable roommate.

Case in point: Parisa is making some grilled cheese sandwiches for her roommates. For some alcohol-fueled and therefore unjustified reason, Shauvon starts freaking out at her that she favors "her boys" over "her girls" because Parisa is making Cohutta's sandwich first. Cohutta sticks up for Parisa, telling Shauvon that she is screaming and throwing bottles for nothing. Then, in a masterstroke, he decides he is too good for this argument, takes his sandwich into his room and proceeds to address it, hoping that perhaps this little toasted cheese therapy session will help get him through living with these idiots. The best part: Shauvon hears him talking and swears that Cohutta is gossiping behind her back, to which Cohutta says, to his sandwich, "See, she even thinks I am talking about her to someone in here, but I am talking to you, grilled cheese sandwich."

It cannot get any better.

Take it from one of the neckless

I simultaneously love and hate Anthony Bourdain. I love to see the places to which he travels on "No Reservations," but I think he is kind of gross as a person (as opposed to, you know, gross as a baboon). His writing is sometimes quite clever, but often quite cliche. All in all, though, I do find him entertaining and his show always enjoys its place in my TiVo Season Pass Manager.

While I am simultaneously loving and hating on Tony, I can safely say that I simply hate Rachael Ray. I am bitter and jealous of the empire that she has built on "taking a little help from the store," as any devoted reader of this blog can tell you. Plus, she doesn't tip very well.

So imagine my thrill upon reading Tony's most recent anti-Rachael tirade, this one relative to her position as spokesperson for Dunkin' Donuts:

"'I'm not a very ethical guy,' Anthony said. 'I don't have a lot of principles. But somehow that seems to me over the line. Juvenile diabetes has exploded. Half of Americans don't have necks. And (Rachael's) up there saying, ‘Eat some [bleeping] Dunkin' Donuts. You look great in that swimsuit — eat another doughnut!' That's evil.'"

I really do believe that it is the sole discretion of the individual to decide which foods go into his or her mouth. I also believe that Rachael is allowed to endorse who she wants to endorse, and that she is permitted to make as much money as suits her.

That said, she remains a pain in the ass. So, go Tony!

Maybe I am not as old as I thought I was?

I am not necessarily proud to admit this, but I am watching "The Real World: Sydney."

And I kind of love one of the roommates.

First of all, let me explain that my advanced age means that I am not generally interested in "The Real World" any longer. I couldn't stomach the kids on the show after, say, the New Orleans season. I made a stab at watching Austin, but decided either I was getting too old, or the show had changed too much for me to care. (I think it's the former, though the latter might play a small part.)

But then when I read that the current season was filmed in Sydney, my favorite city on the planet, I knew I had to suck it up and watch. Because I had to see the location shots; not because I give a crap about the drama of drunk 19-year-olds.

Imagine my surprise, then, upon "meeting" Cohutta, the cowboy-hat/bear-claw-necklace- (an actual claw, not a pastry) wearing Georgian gentleman who is mature beyond his 23 years. He builds log homes for a living and enjoys sitting down with his family for dinner. He is very quick to call out his roommates for their ridiculous behavior, including when Trisha and Parisa are mad that some Australian dude that they've been flirting with tells them they're "sixes or sevens." Cohutta is all, only an insecure woman would feel the need to ask a guy to rate her. You should be confident in yourself, and don't ask questions to which you don't want the answers. You tell 'em, Hutty.

Cohutta is not a saint, as evidenced by his unwillingness to go to Sydney's Mardi Gras parade, one of the finest "gay" events in the world. Additionally, roommate Isaac displayed heretofore unknown (for a "Real World" house) reason during a recent fight with Shauvon, after she fell off his lap in a drunken state. He refuses to apologize for her being drunk, though he does apologize for calling her a "slut," saying that's what he calls women when he is mad. That's not cool, but stick with me, here. He gets through his calm little speech -- through which Shauvon wailed and sobbed -- and states, matter-of-factly, "This was a good talk." Hilarious.

Neither Cohutta nor Isaac are above reproach, as they are males in their early 20s, after all, who have willingly placed themselves on a reality television show known for its debauchery. I'm just saying that they're a little sharper and/or more normal, I daresay, than your typical RW roomie. Cohutta is a random voice of reason that I did not expect in a "Real World" cast.

I can't wait to see how he responds in the next episode, when, according to the preview, it appears a roommate throws a drink at him.