New York's SEXIEST BENEFIT July 25 for Planned Parenthood!

DAHLINGS -

This is your chance to get tickets for Summer, Sex and Spirits, the 7th Annual Benefit for Planned Parenthood!

HUDSON TERRACE
621 WEST 46TH STREET
8 PM - 11 PM

Open Bar, including a Summer, Sex & Spirits specialty cocktail!
Sexy performances by Calamity Chang, Darlinda Just Darlinda & Ginger Brown
Hot music by Justine D & DJ Ayres
Naughty balloon artistry by Mistress B
General Admission: $40
VIP Tickets: $75

For tickets and information go to

www.ppnyc.org

Fabulous silent auction & raffle prizes including items from:
Christian Louboutin, Daredevil Tattoo, Shinn Estate Vineyards, ION Salon, Babeland, Old Village Hall, Darphin, MoMA, Chilewich, Candle 79, Artist Victoria Blewer, Angelo David Salon, Rachel Comey, Skinny Skinny, Malia Mills, Duane Park, Artist Karen Goetzinger, Guggenheim, Mets, Lenor Romano, Astor Center Wines, Fox & Boy Hair, Edgewater Gallery Vermont, Jen Huang Photography, Yankees, Exhale Spa, 3rd Ward, Eve's Garden, Holly Hudson, SHOKra Studio, Wendy Mink, The Frick, Alphabet City Acupuncture, Only Hearts, Brooklyn Brainery, New York School of Burlesque, Artist Marcelo Gallegos...and many more!

VIP Tickets: $75
Includes admission to the VIP reception from 7:00pm-8:00pm featuring gift bags courtesy of Bag the Habit, balloon artistry by Mistress B, artisanal cheeses from Lucy's Whey, sweet treats by Dulce Desserts & sunset cocktails on the Garden Terrace.

21 and over.

See you there!

Ciao,

Elisa

Happy New Year With The Wrong Baldwin...

DAHLINGS -

As my faithful readers know, one of my long-held desires is to bed the incomparable Alec Baldwin, star of "30 Rock" and the new movie "It's Complicated." Like a fine merlot, he has only improves with age.


But, as my faithful readers also know, I had the misfortune of sneezing on his suede jacket during a recent LA-NY flight whilst sitting in the adjoing seat.

I paid the dry-cleaning bill and sent an apologetic note (with a suggestive twist) but I did not hear back.

Then on New Year's Eve, I was invited to an A-List party by a host whose name I cannot disclose. It was a smashing affair. Which I in turn thought led to a smashing affair. Yes, I drank far too much Krug champagne, and one of my beautiful breasts fell out of my Oscar de la Renta dress, causing much merriment. After that, the night is a bit of a...blur, for lack of a better word.

New Year's Day I awoke in my own bed to the sound of a man snoring. Bleary, with one of those buzz-saw hangovers that only champagne can cause, I could see that he was large, hairy, and...ALEC BALDWIN!

What a brilliant way to start the New Year and the new decade!

At last, one of my most important wishes had been granted! He lay face down. Containing an urge to giggle with girlish glee, I leaned my naked body over his, and woke him up by gently blowing in his ear.

"Alec, dahling," I whispered in my most seductive tones.

He sat up, and I could not suppress a scream of suprise.

It was not Alec Baldwin, it was...it was DANIEL BALDWIN!


Oh my God, I had slept with the wrong Baldwin, the "Celebrity Rehab" Baldwin, one of the LESSER Baldwins. Daniel sat bolt upright and stared at me.

"Are you the hooker I asked for?" he said.

"I most certainly am NOT," I snapped. "What were you doing at an A-List celebrity party, I would like to know!"

"I, uh, came with some friends. Do you have any Jack Daniels?"

"No!" I drew the pink silk sheet protectively over myself. "I will thank you to leave, Mr. Baldwin, at once." I rang for the maid. Octavia rushed in a moment later, and took in the situation.

"Te has puesto a sí mismo en problemas con otro perdedor, perra. Y es el 'Celebrity Rehab' Baldwin,"she muttered.

"Shut up, you clot. I can speak Spanish. Get his clothes at once and show the gentleman out. NOW."

Mr. Baldwin stood up slowly, rubbing his head. "Okay, babe. I don't pay for pussy anyway."

"GET OUT!"

Grumbling, he dressed and took his leave. I fell back in bed, my temples throbbing, filled with disappointment. Thank goodness for small favors--at least it wasn't Stephen Baldwin.

So now I have a goal for 2010. I am setting my vintage feathered cap for Alec Baldwin. And this time I will stay sober enough to know which Baldwin I'm with!

One supposes there is a valuable life lesson in there somewhere, but damned if I know what it is.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

It's Official - Oprah Winfrey ADORES Breasts!

Dahlings –

Far be it for moi to criticize anyone else’s lifestyle (although if you dare criticize mine, beware! As it says below, I have efficient and nasty lawyers).

However, the hypocrisy of that Oprah Winfrey person. Yes, I know, she's rich, she pulled herself up by her anklestraps, she insists on being on every cover of that damn magazine urging women to "be the best you can be" or "build strong bodies 12 ways" or "Join the Army" or whatever it is. Etc. etc. etc.

So, in this day and age, why bother to pretend that you are a player of the pink oboe, when it is transparently obvious that you would rather eat the dark oyster? (Note I did not say “bearded clam.”)

My personal assistant had the television on this afternoon when she was supposed to be steaming my fabulous outfits. I'm going to the Marc Jacobs soiree at Gotham Hall this evening, and I need to have a selection of devastating garments handy.

Before I had a chance to discipline the foolish lumpkin, the sight on the plasma screen rooted me to the spot. Oprah Winfrey, delightedly standing behind a half-naked woman and fondling her breasts!

“I didn’t know Oprah had a side career in soft-corn pornography,” I thought. Then, I realized Ms. Winfrey was ostensibly fitting women for brassieres on her television program.

Perhaps it was the manner in which her hands caressed each woman’s poitrine, big, small and in between. The way she lovingly fondled the curve of the cups of the lingerie. Perhaps it was the rapturous gleam in her eye. But Oprah was enjoying this far too much!

Suddenly those 'rumors' about her friendship with Gayle seemed quite plausible.

And I’m certain that the participants on the show enjoyed themselves as much as Ms. Winfrey, if the eagerly screamed “THANK YOU, OPRAH!” s from the half-naked women were anything to go by. Who knows what happened when the cameras were turned off? Probably most of these women hadn’t been felt up so well since high school. (Although there were so many women, one has to admire Oprah’s stamina.)

The rest of the program was the usual women’s’ kerfuffle, how to find the perfect pair of jeans and such. (Using size 10 women as examples--of COURSE size 10 women can find perfect jeans! My God! )

But I digress. Ms. Winfrey examined each woman’s derriere with a scrutiny that was quite discomfiting.

Yes, we all know she’ll never marry that eunuch Steadfast or Stiffpole or whatever his name is. If only she wouldn’t keep blowing smoke in the media’s eyes by pretending to blow Stiffpole. Come out, come out, Oprah! Then we will all know you are being your best possible you, as you like to say.

Must dress! Kisses!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Today's Fashion Thought:
We all know there is nothing like a dame. I've always liked the word dame. I hope someday I will be remembered as such: “She was a great dame," "She was one tough dame,”
I think of a dame as a gal who knows who she is. Who can be tough when she needs to be, but knows when mercy is called for.
Great in bed. Feminine without being prissy.
From "Damn Good Vintage," by the Zaftig Goddess