It's as if Hollywood moms knew I was starting a blog. Maybe at their most recent Million Dollar Mommies meeting they had Bonnie Raitt's "Let's Give Them Something To Talk About" on repeat. Maybe those compliant little mom-bots left Angelina's compound fist-pounding and giggling about the ways they were really going to unleash their Mommy Moments for all the world to see.
Or maybe an errant crop-dusting plane flew over the Hollywood Hills and let some crazy spray into the lower atmosphere.
I prefer to credit Angie, just like she wants us all to credit her for everything involving a parent and child. So I will. And I did -- her Edible Arrangement is in the mail. (FYI: they DO deliver to castles in France! And yes I know France is not in or near Los Angeles, but Angie's a globe trotter and I like to send her fruit to wherever her bony ass is sitting down for its next empty plate. Otherwise the fruit goes stale and Angie goes another 24 hours with a single calorie intake. For God's sake, woman, eat the cubes of kiwi fruit.)
I'm getting off track.
Whether Angie was involved or not, I just want to thank the Hollywood community for giving me these gifts. (Not coincidentally, this is the same introduction I will use at the Oscars when I win my first golden sidekick.)
The starlet turned momlet on my radar this morning is that Mangler of M-nouns, that Doyenne of Dean, the girl who put the bleach in blond and the zero in 90210: Tori Spelling.
After the nation spent years cheering for her to shut up about her virginity already and figure out a way to fix the indentation in her cleavage, Donna Martin did graduate. She graduated to a life as Tori Spelling, purveyor of self-titled books and television shows, as well as a line of something or other on QVC.
Tori Spelling is amazing. Despite evidencing little talent at anything beyond spray-tanning, she keeps the book and TV deals coming in steadily. She can be found giving an interview at any hour of the day, somewhere. And she is the Kung Fu Panda of mind games: listen to her during an interview, and you think wow, she's relatively well-spoken and actually seems pretty down to Earth. I misjudged her. Then you by mistake stop at TLC or Lifetime or Oxygen while you're channel-surfing and you catch her in her natural habitat. Which results in your three-year-old dedicating her dinner time to giving you a pep talk about how you're not actually an idiot when it comes to character estimation. Tori is just a ninja in the art of self-promotion. Please get up off the floor.
Well, Tori has worked her voo-doo magic again. She got another television show. This time the title doesn't involve some kitschy rewrite or misuse of a noun, like the former Tori & Dean: Inn Love or Tori & Dean: Storibook Weddings. It also doesn't involve the word "Dean."
The show is called Craft Wars. Because, really, who doesn't look at Tori and think, "Man, I bet she'd be fun at a quilting bee!" or "Hmmmm.....is it knit one, pearl one, or pearl two, knit two? I should call CrafTori."
The one question I have about this show -- I am otherwise supremely confident it is a ratings bonanza -- is this: do the words "craft" and "wars" ever belong side-by-side, in any context or medium? And if they do, why isn't SmarTori putting her keen insight to greater use and cajoling Martha Stewart on the first plane to Iran?
PromoTori knows how to get a show off the ground, though, even one with a seemingly bonkers title, premise, and hosTori. She has a baby.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, for those of you keeping score at home (I know no one is, but pretend): this is baby number 4 chez Tori & Dean: Parenting One Oh One More Baby! THIS little bundle of joy will join older sibs Liam, Stella and baby Hattie. When I say "baby Hattie," I don't just mean "baby" as in the youngest of the currently living McDermott offspring. I mean "baby" as in just-learned-how-to-roll-over baby. 'Cause little-big-sister Hattie is five MONTHS old. By my math....hang on a second.....still subtracting....carried the one....okay, by my math this means FacTori got preggers when Hattie was around three months old.
Far be it from me to advise Tori on her family planning. Follow your Prophet Angie's lead and go for enough children to field a soccer team, I don't care. But I have a sneaking suspicion Tori might not actually be trying to do this (although she'd probably love jazzercising the unis and it might get her an intro with David Beckham). I worry that Tori actually thinks press junkets are just conversation starters and publicists are journalists who talk instead of write. I worry that every time she wants to do a product launch, she also thinks she has to do a progeny launch.
I worry that when Dean told her there's only one thing to do when you're in a prone position between a sheet and a duvet cover, RealiTori didn't set in.