Josh & Josh are Rich and Famous

Josh & Josh (and Brooke!) Weekend: Juno, West Village, Fifth Avenue; Jack Mackenroth, Ingrid Michaelson, and The Joys of Milk

Last week Josh K.’s first-and-only girlfriend, Brooke, flew to New York from Minneapolis for a whirlwind four-day visit.

On Thursday night the three of us had dinner in Hell’s Kitchen and then took a night tour of Times Square. On Friday Brooke went on a shopping extravaganza while the Joshes worked. That night we met up in Union Square for dinner at Coffee Shop (yum!) before walking to Viniero’s in the East Village for inappropriately good dessert and warm liquor-infused winter drink concoctions. Afterward we went to the theater in Union Square to catch one of the sold-out showings of Juno.

Juno is the story of a high schooler (the brilliant Ellen Page) who gets pregnant by her best friend (Michael Cera, Superbad) and plans to give her baby to a yuppy suburban couple (Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman), and is what Josh and I call an instant classic. It’s funny, quirky, and moving in a subtle way. Ellen Page’s performance is a can’t-miss event. Get thee to a theater this weekend to check it out.

On Saturday we headed down to the West Village for brunch on Bleecker Street and, by popular demand, did the obligatory pilgrimage to 66 Perry Street, Carrie Bradshaw’s stoop. We did a little shopping and gobbled the required Magnolia cupcake in the oft celebrity-laden park across from the dessert hotspot.

Later that night we went to see the new Broadway play August: Osage County. The show, set in one big, elaborate house set, follows the twists and turns of a very dysfunctional family (don’t they all?), and delivers quite a few surprises and great performances, especially in the second and third acts, one of which involves a dinner scene that outdoes anything you’ve seen on Springer (with words flying like daggers instead of the chicken wings and potatoes that usually soar through the air on Springer).

The New York Times called the play "flat-out, no asterisks and without qualifications, the most exciting new American play Broadway has seen in years."

Most people who visit New York want a good celebrity sighting, and that night we had three. First, while in line for the show, CSI’s Marg Helgenberger (Catherine Willows) stood in front of us and chatted with us. She looked great and was very low-key. Second, Jeff Perry, who plays Meredith’s dad, Thatcher Grey, on Grey’s Anatomy, was in the cast of August: Osage County (and was very good). Then, when the show let out, we were right next door to Cyrano de Bergerac, where Jennifer Garner was standing a few feet away from us signing Playbills and looking as dimply and fresh-faced as ever.

On Sunday we had brunch in Hell’s Kitchen and then braved the massive crowds on Fifth Avenue and did Bergdorf Goodman, Bendel’s, and the Rockefeller Christmas display, before settling in across the street at Dean & Deluca (right next to The Today Show) for hot chocolate and more dessert (because you can never have too much dessert, right?).

Josh and I love playing tour guide. After being here for a couple years it really is fun to see New York through the eyes of somebody who is newly in love with this city.

While at a birthday party in Hell’s Kitchen, at Xth Avenue Lounge, Josh and I spotted season four Project Runway contestant Jack Mackenroth. Apparently you can’t throw a stone in this city these days without hitting a PR contestant.

Also, Project Runway spoiler (close your eyes, close your eyes!): Jack leaves the show in tonight’s PR episode. See the dramatic health story unfold tonight on Bravo.

Last night I saw the Off-Broadway show Things We Want at the Acorn Theater. A friend recommended it, and I saw a good(ish) review in New York, so I bought tickets. Directed by Ethan Hawke (I should have known at that point), the play follows three brothers with a sad past trying to get through life in New York, and features a mysterious and troubled girl who lives in their building who changes the course of their lives.

Paul Dano (Little Miss Sunshine, L.I.E.) was pretty good, as was Josh Hamilton (Alive, Broken English), but the show made the mistake countless plays make: They think that lots of scenes with people getting really loud and angry makes for good theater. When they’re well crafted and deftly handled (see: August: Osage County) it can be fodder for good theatrical times, but when it’s just yelling for yelling’s sake it’s a disappointment.

I’m not upset I saw it, but I would say that Things We Want is something that, in the end, we don’t really want that much.

Something we do want, though, is Ingrid Michaelson and her fantastic album "Boys and Girls." A J&J reader tipped us off that we should give Ingrid a listen, and once we did we picked up the album and haven’t stopped listening to her since. Her music has been featured on Grey’s Anatomy, and I’d say the girl is on her way up. Also check out her songs "Overboard," "Breakable," and "Die Alone."

Below is a performance of her song “The Way I Am.”

P.S. Is anyone else loving the hilarious user comments on Amazon.com’s listing for milk? Priceless. (Thanks Eric!)

Josh H. and Christian from Project Runway's Season Four

Though Christian, from Project Runway's fourth season, was at my apartment to romance my roommate, the three of us did get a chance to sit down and chat for a while in the living room.

Then, of course, somewhere along the line we busted out a camera. As it may surprise none of you, there was no objection to cameras and flashes and the taking of pictures. Some people do love the spotlight.

Do you like how I'm in my pajamas in the picture, too? I was sitting on the couch watching Grey's Anatomy when Christian and my roomie came through the front door. Surprise!

The rest, as they say, is history.

Josh & Josh Project Runway Exclusive!

Last night a season four Project Runway contestant was at my apartment.

Can I just say that it was bizarre to watch an episode of the show the night before and then have one of the contestants actually in my living room the next night?

To quote Cindy Adams, "Only in New York, kids. Only in New York."

--Josh H.

Thanksgiving Travel Adventures, Plus Project Runway (SJP and Tiki!), When Gossip Got Good, and Loving Alicia & Amy

On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving I boarded a flight from New York to Minneapolis. Most of the flight was pretty normal—safety demonstrations, cheeseburgers served, paging through paperbacks—but a little incident near the end of my flight made this particular homebound flight memorable.

A half an hour before landing I headed to the back of the plane to use the bathroom. I was the only person in line, but both restrooms were occupied. I stood and blocked the end of the aisle New York-style so that nobody would cut the bathroom line—this city does kind of rub off on you—and waited for a restroom to open up.

While I waited a guy got out of his seat and started booking it to the back of the plane and then pushed past me. I started thinking, “Um, okay . . . What’s the deal?” He looked at me and then the bathrooms and then moved further back in the plane to the flight attendant area.

One of the flight attendants was putting things away in the back. This guy was now standing fully in the flight attendant area and, oddly, wasn’t saying anything. He was just kind of staring. It may sound strange, but the whole thing started to feel a little awkward. Then it got kind of creepy. This bald guy just booked it to the back of the plane, pushed past me, and was looking all hostile in the flight attendant area. I would be lying if I said that scenes from United 93 didn’t start running through my head. Sad—maybe even paranoid—but true.

The flight attendant seemed to be waiting for him to say something, but as he kept standing there and not saying anything she finally said, “Can I help you, sir?” He said something I couldn’t quite hear, and just then a bathroom opened up. I went in and used it, and when I got back out I didn’t see the guy anywhere. I tried to shrug it all off and sat down again.

Just after touchdown our pilot addressed the passengers on the PA system.

“Ladies and gentlemen, after we pull into the gate we’re going to ask that everybody please stay in their seats. We have a situation to address on the plane, and once that is cleared you are free to move about the cabin.”

“Did somebody have a heart attack?” the woman behind me asked. People started looking around a little bit, looking for the intrigue.

As soon as the door popped open at the gate four police officers rushed down the aisles and to the back of the plane.

Nobody moved. It was silent.

New Yorkers are a squirrely bunch when they travel: As soon as the wheels hit the ground everybody is on their cell phone and they start scavenging their stuff and then rush the aisles, pushing ahead of others who haven’t gotten their stuff fast enough to get off the plane first.

This time? Complete silence. Everybody stayed in their seats. Even the cranky toddler a few rows back piped down. Heads followed the police officers making their way to the back of the plane.

Moments later the man I had seen at the back of the plane was in handcuffs and ushered off the plane, the police carrying his baggage behind him.

There was a pregnant pause after he got off the plane. Then, all at once, everybody was on their feet per usual, cell phones glued to their ears.

“Dude, some, like, bald Middle Eastern guy just got arrested on my plane,” the fratty guy sitting across the aisle said into his iPhone. “So weird. I wonder what he did.”

I looked back where I had been standing at the back of the plane. A million things crossed my mind.

But all there was to do at that point was gather my things and get off the plane.

On the way home I didn’t have any unusual incidents. I did, however, end up with a nasty delay. My flight was supposed to take off at 4:45 p.m., but by the time I got to the gate the flight was delayed to 6:30.

Then it changed to 7:30.

Then 8:00.

Then they stopped updating the delay altogether.

I finished a novel. I ate dinner at a greasy airport restaurant. I read two celeb gossip magazines.

Finally, four hours after my scheduled flight time, my plane took off.

The reason for the delay? Light rain in New York. (It was 50 degrees out.)

Isn’t holiday travel super fun?

Is it just us or is season four of Project Runway on its way to being the best ever? Last week Sarah Jessica Parker stepped in with a challenge to create a design for her Steve & Barry Bitten clothing line and had our respect with her fashion smartz and general comportment.

Then this week Tiki Barber, former football hottie and now  Today Show correspondent, hosted a contest which required the contestants to do something they haven’t had to do before on PR: men’s wear. The tension and terror was palpable. In the end only a few rose to the challenge. Love it. (The prodigious display of hot man flesh in the form of the male models didn't hurt, either.)

This is good reality television, people. Bravo knows how it’s done. Anybody else totally loving this season?



Oh Gossip Girl. You started out flaky but fun, a guilty pleasure that nobody wanted to admit to watching, but everybody seemed to know about. (Every Thursday morning my office is abuzz with the latest goings-on with our famous Upper East Siders. Sad, but true.)

At first you were a most-predictable mild upgrade on The O.C. But then last night, with your Thanksgiving episode, you had to go and actually make your show kinda good. You really pulled it together, CW. What’s happening to this world?

So, okay: We’re tuning in. We’ll admit it. But we still feel pretty guilty about it. You’re like having some chocolate and then a big bowl of pasta for dessert. With lots of red sauce.

Can you keep it up, GG? Time will tell. XOXO.

Josh and I are hooked on Alicia Keys’ superb new album “As I Am,” which continues to dominate the charts. “No One” and “Superwoman” are burning up our iPods.

Amy Winehouse made a splashy debut in America this year with her album “Back to Black.” But even better than that critically acclaimed album is her album “Frank,” which was formerly only available in the UK and was just recently made available in America. “Frank” has more of a jazz vibe instead of the “Back to Black” Motown feel, and tracks like “F*** Me Pumps” and “You Sent Me Flying” and “Amy Amy Amy” are not to be missed. She may be a hot mess, showing up bloody in middle-of-the-night paparazzi shots, her husband may be in jail, and she may be canceling shows and slurring her words when she does show up, but at least we have Amy’s “Frank,” which is near perfection.

Also:

* Best parody of The Hills ever. Brilliant!

* Julia Roberts gets out her mama bear claws and tells a paparazzo how it is. I'd be afraid, too. Don't mess with Miss Julia. Big mistake, huge!

Josh & Josh Talk 9 to 5 The Musical, Queer as Folk, Magical Weight Loss, Dead Macs, and Thanksgiving Travel

Oh yes, it's happening: 9 to 5 The Musical. With music and lyrics by Dolly Parton, the musical will retrace the steps of the hit 1980 film. Joe Mantello (who gets his hands on all the big Broadway shows) will direct the show, which is set to open in Fall 2008 in Los Angeles before likely making a go of it on Broadway.

Emmy-winner Allison Janney is set to star as Violet Newstead, the super-efficient office manager who teams up with her co-workers, including Megan Hilty as Doralee Rhodes (the Dolly Parton role), to turn the tables on their sexist, egotistical boss. (Josh and I saw Megan Hilty in Wicked as Glinda and fell madly in love with her. Megan's performance of "Popular" is unmatched.)

Is it bad that when I heard this news I went and found "9 to 5" in my iTunes collection? If this musical can pour itself a cup of ambition we may see it hit Broadway in early 2009.

'Tis the season for everybody to start coming out with "Complete Series DVD Collection" packages, and Queer as Folk is ready to go at $250 for the whole shebang.  (Didn't the series end a few years ago? What was the holdup on getting the full series out, people?)

While my feelings about Queer as Folk remain somewhat ambivalent -- couldn't it have been smarter and, um, of generally higher quality like The L Word? -- I still respect Queer for what it was. It was a big deal at the time, sticking its GLBT neck out before it became more comfortable and acceptable to do so. Queer as Folk was gay while Will on Will & Grace was still a neutered little gay uncle. The show also addressed plenty of issues in the gay community that few others did (and perhaps perpetuated other stereotypes of rampant promiscuity and drug use, but let’s leave that for a future cultural studies colloquia, hmmm?).

I started watching the series as a high school student, furtively visiting my local video store to bring the DVDs home to watch when nobody was home. I kept watching throughout college (albeit sometimes reluctantly) and finally saw the series finale once I had moved to New York. Perhaps some of the affection I feel for the series is simply derived from how long the series was with me, from newly out teenager to twenty-something man in the city.

I did love that the finale played out in a way that I never would have predicted. It was a nice way to say farewell to Queer as Folk.

Will QAF be under your Christmas tree this year?

Yesterday during a visit to the doctor I found out I lost six pounds. Yay, right? But also kind of surprising.

In the weeks leading up to the break-up I went low carb in an effort to curb my dependence on carb-o-licious things. (Cereal! Pasta! Bread! More cereal! Cereal on top of cereal!) I chucked a nice amount of weight and then began integrating carbs back into my life, focusing on adding complex carbs and foods without a lot of processed sugar. It was all worth it to drop a jean size or two.

But then, of course, the breakup. All carb rules went out the window. All bets were off. I unhinged my jaw and started annihilating everything in sight. I snacked like a smoker gone cold turkey. I ate like I was pregnant. With twins. But then I curbed that, too. But I still consider it a small miracle that, despite my recent pregnancy-style eating, I managed to end up with a balance of six pounds lost.

Little miracles, people. Little miracles every day.

Wondering why you haven’t been hearing as much from Joshie K. lately? His Mac up and died, just like mine did a couple months ago. He’ll be back as soon as his ‘puter gets out of the ICU. We love our little titanium Mac PowerBooks, but they’re just getting to be that age. For now they live on the magic of TekServe repairs.

In a few hours I’m boarding a Minneapolis-bound plane to spend some time with my family. You’ll probably hear from me while I’m home, writing live from suburbia. I can’t wait.

Josh & Josh Talk Lions for Lambs, The Best of Primetime TV, Off-Broadway's Die Mommie Die!, New Music, and What We're Reading Now

A couple weeks ago Josh and I saw a screening of Robert Redford's Lions for Lambs. (One of the lovely Manchattan boys set us up with tickets.) We went mostly because we wanted to see Meryl Streep do her thing, which indeed ended up being the one true reason to see the film. The movie is another in a string of somewhat preachy, cloying war movies (see Rendition, Redacted, The Kingdom, et al), and indeed yet another co-starring the venerable Ms. Streep (who played a government torture supporter in Rendition, the latest war film box office stinker).

In Lions, however, we get to see Streep pull out quite a few stops as journalist Janine Roth, a veteran newswoman interviewing a conservative senator, Jasper Irving (Tom Cruise--ugh), about a "new plan" to "win the war" in Afghanistan. Watching the cat-and-mouse interview between the two is a treat, and Streep's precision timing is sharp as ever. Later, after the interview, she has an even more riveting scene as she decides what to do with the information she's been given during her tense talk with Senator Irving.

Things get a little muddled when more stories are mixed in, including Robert Redford as a professor lecturing a college student during office hours on why it's important to "get involved," and another following two soldiers fighting a losing battle in Afghanistan. And--surprise, surprise--all the stories later tie together.

The Bottom Line Lions for Lambs (opening this Friday) is okay--preachy, but interesting enough to get you through--but Meryl Streep certainly makes it worth seeing, even if you do wait to see it on DVD.

The Television Roundup

Heroes | What's with the sophomore slump, NBC? This show showed so much promise when it debuted last season, but now things are getting scattered, slow, and uninteresting. I flipped through a magazine during the last episode, whereas I used to watch with rapt attention. Maybe we should stop with 800 story lines, characters we don't care about, and principals we don't see often enough? If not careful, we could have another Lost on our hands. The show's creator, Tim Kring, swears that things get better during episodes seven through eleven, and we pray he's right. It's gonna require a few heroic moves to save our Heroes.

Grey's Anatomy | YAY! Our baby is off life support! The last two episodes of season four have brought the show back from the dead. After the debacles otherwise known as the deer in the parking lot and Lexie Grey, the addition of the brilliantly bitchy and bitchily brilliant Dr. Erica Hahn (Brooke Smith) to the cast has added true hope to the menu at Seattle Grace. Also, the last few minutes of this week's episode, with George and Izzy in bed ("Izzy, did you shave just one leg?") made us simultaneously laugh and also care about the George-Izzy romance for the first time, rekindling our romance with the entire show.

Ugly Betty | The season two premiere had us at hello. The following episodes have been just fine, with a few great moments. We love the new romance between Mark and Cliff and we're looking forward to Posh's guest appearance on next week's episode. The over-the-top camp show still has enough laughs and  heart to keep us tuning in and loving (almost) every minute.

DVD Talk

ShowBusiness: The Road to Broadway | If you bear any love in your heart for Broadway or musical theater, it's time to snatch up this fantastic new documentary. ShowBusiness follows the 2003-2004 Broadway season when Wicked, Taboo, Caroline, Or Change, and Avenue Q first opened. The cameras go behind the scenes and into rehearsal rooms, recording studios, critics' dinners (and private conversations featuring hilariously wrong prognostications), and business meetings, as the season that brings two major hits, and two soon-to-be-canceled critical darlings, to the Broadway boards. Featuring Kristen Chenowith, Tony Kushner, Idina Menzel, Tonya Pinkins, John Tartaglia, and many more, this is a theater lover's must-see, must-own.

Project Runway: Season Three | The best thing about the Project Runway DVDs is that all of the season's episodes are extended with scenes (i.e. tantrums and bitchery) that never aired on television. It's also the best way to get ready for the debut of season four on November 14th. Josh and I huddled up watching back-to-back episodes (love you, Laura!) and triple-checked our season pass sign-up for the next edition. Either you're in or you're out, and this one is definitely in.

Broadway, Baby!

A couple weeks ago, as part of Josh K's birthday week, we saw Charles Busch's Die Mommie Die, now playing Off-Broadway at the New World Stages. The show is garnering great reviews (Ben Brantley from The New York Times basically wrote the show a love letter) and it's easy to see why. After seeing the movie a few years ago, Josh and I fell in love with the high-camp comedy thriller, written by and starring Charles Busch. (Sexy Emmy-nominated actor Van Hansis, who plays gay teen Luke Snyder on As The World Turns, co-stars as Charles Busch's sexually confused son. He's great eye candy between and during the jokes.) Check it out before the curtain goes down in February.

On The iPod

A confession: We were never really that into The Beatles. We respect them, we get the love and craziness, but the music just wasn't necessarily for us. This week, however, we started listening to the Across The Universe soundtrack and found ourselves enjoying some of the new takes on Beatles classics, including Jim Sturgess's "All My Loving" and "Across the Universe." (On a related Beatles cover note, we also love the Fiona Apple and Rufus Wainwright renditions of "Across the Universe" and Sarah McLachlan's "Black Bird," also available on iTunes.)

In other soundtrack news, not only did Josh and I see Lars and the Real Girl and thoroughly enjoy it, but we also enjoyed the music by David Torn. It's mostly instrumental, but it's fresh, quirky, and upbeat. Check out tracks "Bowling With Margo," "End Credit Suite" and "Lars and Margo" to see what we mean. It was definitely worth the download.

And lastly, our most reticent admission of all: We've been listening to Britney's new album, and we kind of love it. (It pained us a little bit to write that.) Perhaps we should be lauding Brit's producers since they're the ones who put together the songs while Brit showed up between blackouts (pun intended) to moan and mumble over the great beats and hooks the producers and writers cooked up. Besides the naughty fun of "Gimme More" (and the giggles inspired by remembering the VMA performance), the songs "Piece of Me" and "Radar" have turned into favorites. It's sad to say that the girl has done her best work (and we use "work" lightly) when her life is at it's "hot mess" heights.

J&J Books

Josh K. just finished Headlong by Michael Frayn.

Josh H. just finished I Know This Much Is True by Wally Lamb.

Josh K. is now reading The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman.

Josh H. is now reading The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory.

Wondering where the Joshes have been lately? The answer: Busy, busy, busy. Lots of changes, lots of stuff happening. We're doing well, though, and we promise to be good little bloggers and post more regularly again. More details on us soon.

Josh & Josh Exclusive: On The Set of Sex and The City: The Movie (With Photos by Josh K!)

Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) runs after Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) on her way to confront Big (Chris Noth, far right near Town Car), armed with a bouquet of flowers. Photos by Josh K. taken just after 2 p.m. today.

Whoa! So, Josh K. and I just got back from the Sex and the City: The Movie set. They're filming outside The Bryant Park Hotel (40 W. 40th Street).

At one point we stood a few feet from Sarah Jessica Parker in full (crazy) wedding regalia, as well as Miranda and Charlotte in their (gorgeous, non-matching) bridesmaid dresses. (We also stood close to Mr. Big and Steve, who chatted amiably between takes.)

It seems that we may have been there for the climactic scene of the movie. Here's what happened.

A limousine starts cruising down West 40th, goes about fifteen feet, and then abruptly stops in the middle of the street. Carrie gets out of the right rear door, a huge bouquet of flowers in her hands, and starts running at a tux-clad Mr. Big, who has just stepped out of Town Car. Carrie starts beating Big with the bouquet, screaming, “I knew you would do it!” looking both angry and heartbroken.

Miranda and Charlotte bust out of the limo and come after Carrie, ushering her back to the limo. Miranda and Carrie make it into the vehicle before Charlotte turns around, her face contorting, and yells something at Big before getting into the limo, which speeds off another fifteen feet or so before “cut” is called.

We watched the whole thing three times.

Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) rushes to Carrie (SJP) as she beats Big with her bouquet. Photo by Josh K.

Charlotte (Kirsten Davis) and Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) comfort Carrie as she makes her way back to her limo.

Steve (David Eigenberg) and Big (Chris Noth) chat together between takes.

Charlotte (Kristin Davis) on the set between takes.

All photos by Josh K. for Josh & Josh Are Rich and Famous. If you wish to use them credit Josh & Josh and link to the permalink for this post.

Also, The Sex and the City Movie Blog has picked up our story and pictures.

Josh Talk: What's Good About Betty, Bad About Grey's, Beloved About Chris Garneau, and What J&J Are Up To Now

Tonight Josh K. and I gathered at his apartment for back-to-back Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy episodes. Curled up with a pack of Oreos, popping them in our mouths as we watched, we were pleased again with another good Ugly Betty episode. Last week, the season premiere, was better (very funny, perfectly paced), but this episode was certainly good. The show knows just how to play its over-the-top comedy, with enough camp and heart to make it credible and beloved at the same time.

One show that's just plain old playing over the top, however, is Grey's Anatomy. They're taking themselves far too seriously over there at Seattle Grace right now, and after the shiteous season premiere last week (really, saving a cheap animatronic deer in a pickup in the parking lot, Izzy? seriously?), this week we picked up with more vomitous Izzy-George love crap and, of course, "shocking" medical drama that "just happens" to compliment the main characters' story lines.

Josh and I were head over heels with Grey's during its brilliant first season, and were still enamored during most of the second season. But then third season? When Izzy turned into a whiny bitch who delivered four-minute soliloquies on the meaning of life? And that three-episode ferry disaster? Don't even get us started.

That said, Josh and I are pleased to bestow the coveted New Television Season Character That Most Needs To Die A Quick Death and Never Return Award to . . .

Lexie Grey, the extraordinarily obnoxious long-forgotten half-sister of Dr. Meredith Grey, in a role that needs to go away stat. Take cues from the precocious little sister on Growing Pains that magically disappeared one season, or Celia's oldest daughter on Weeds who was in two episodes and was never heard from again. Lexie Grey needs to be just, oh, gone. Now. Next episode.

What keeps us tuning in for now? Why are we going to give the show another two or three chances this season? It's because we can't stop loving Dr. Christina Yang (the amazing and ever-talented Sandra Oh) and Dr. Miranda Bailey (Chandra Wilson). Hopefully they can get us through the drought.

Chris Garneau performing at Joe's Pub in NYC on September 28, 2007

Meanwhile, did you hear Chris Garneau's song on Grey's Anatomy tonight? During the scene in which George talks to Mrs. Burke about the joys and travails of marriage, Chris's song "Castle Time" is playing in the background. Love it!

On Friday night Josh and I went to see Chris perform live at Joe's Pub. The show was fantastic.

Chris was joined by a cellist and a percussionist and the added instrumentation to the songs from his first album added a new degree of richness and fullness to the material, which was already quite good. The audience was eating out of his hand the whole night.

He also played songs from his forthcoming album, due out in early 2008. Unfortunately he didn't play "We Don't Try," one of our favorite songs of his, but the show was so good that we forgave him quickly.

Afterward we said said a quick hello to Chris backstage at Joe's and introduced him to Dylan and our friend Louis. We're definitely looking forward to attending another CG show soon.

On Saturday Josh and I made our way to our old neighborhood on the Upper East Side and had dinner at our former regular brunch haunt, First Wok, on East 88th Street and Third Avenue. (It was practically directly downstairs from our first apartment, so in this case it really was all about location, location, location.)

Afterward we browsed our old Barnes & Noble before heading over to the Met to sit on the stairs and people watch. (Isn't it sad that now all I can see is Serena and Blair sitting at the top of those stairs on Gossip Girl? Lord save us.) Later we sprawled out on the lawn south of the sailboat pond in Central Park and saw designer extraordinaire Jonathan Adler walk by on our lazy afternoon.

On Sunday night we huddled up with the French film Avenue Montaigne, newly out on DVD, which ended up being the perfect light touch before the start of a new week. We went out for a late dinner afterward at our regular haunt in Hell's Kitchen, sitting and talking streetside long after our plates were cleared.

This weekend Josh K.'s boyfriend is whisking him away for a surprise weekend trip while I stay closer to home, preparing to move into a new apartment in Hell's Kitchen ten days from now. More on that next week.

ABC's Thursday Night Lineup: Season Premiers of Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy in One Word or Less

Ugly Betty: Amazing.

My favorite line comes from Amanda (of course): "That's the kind of dirty that don't wash clean."

Grey's Anatomy: Lame.

Most eye-roll inducing moment: Izzy proves her worth as a resident by saving a wounded doe in the goddamn parking lot.

Josh & Josh Talk Trash TV (Fat March and Fashionista Diaries), Opera for All, Internet Stars of Tomorrow, and Books

Hey everybody! We hope you had a good Labor Day holiday. Josh K. spent his break out in Provincetown, Massachusetts, with his boyfriend, while Dylan and I stayed closer to home. Dylan and I visited his family out of state and then spent the remainder of the time in the city, which was pretty much a ghost town, going for walks and watching movies and TV shows on the couch. It was pretty decadent in its lazy quotient.

Sad, but true: Dylan and I watched the first four episodes of ABC's summer reality series Fat March this weekend and we're totally hooked. (All the episodes are available free online.) The show follows twelve obese Americans, weighing 225-500 pounds, as they walk 575 miles from Boston to Washington, D.C to try and chuck as much weight as possible and go for a $1.2 million prize.

Part of the fascination for me is about how much weight these people are losing just by walking and eating 2,000 calories a day. It's also kind of nice to be watching the kind of reality show where, for once, the drama isn't about Tammy stealing Amber's boyfriend who's secretly in love with Candy, who also stole Tammy's hairbrush.

The Fat March contestants are wrestling with food addiction, struggling to walk a half-marathon or more a day, and dropping 15 pounds a week while walking across nine states. Who will make it the whole way? Who will drop out or be forced out? Who's going to lose the most weight and look the best in the "after" pictures? My next fix is on Monday night and I can't wait.

Another tragic trash TV addiction: Josh and I are hooked on SoapNET's The Fashionista Diaries. (Again, you can get all the episodes free online.) The show follows six twenty-somethings who have come to New York to work in magazines and PR as interns. We're endlessly amused by the dumb-but-gorgeous Andrew and bitchy climber socialite-wannabe Bridget. And what's the deal with Nicole, the Queens girl who just can't hack it? We must admit that we kind of love Rachel, the tomboy we'd most want to be friends with, or even Tina, who channels her inner soccer mom in every episode.

The show is often a little unrealistic (um, what national magazine intern goes to editorial meetings and pitches stories to the editor in chief?), but as twenty-somethings ourselves who've moved to New York to work as creatives, it's must-see fodder. It's also a hot topic of conversation among the interns and assistants at the magazine where I work. Fluffy trash it may be, but inquiring eyes are definitely tuning in.

This week the New York City Opera is hosting Opera For All, which means that for three nights (September 6, 7, 8) tickets to shows like La Boheme and Don Giovani are only $25 for all seats. Josh and I snapped up tickets stat and can't wait for our first outing to the NYC Opera. Get 'em while they last.

From The "Aw, Shucks" Department

This week the LOGO blog After Elton named Josh and me "Internet Stars of Tomorrow" and posted an interview with us. Our thanks to Adam Lutbitow for the write-up and our gratitude to After Elton for the nod of recognition.

What The Joshes Are Reading Now

Josh H. is reading Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay.

Josh K. is reading Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time.

Fairy Godfather Saves The Day; How To Lose 10 Pounds in 3 Weeks (or: Abdominal Surgery is the New Stomach Flu); and 'Grey's Anatomy': All Downhill From Here?

The night before I started my new job at the magazine where I now work, I had dinner with Dylan and our good friend, Louis, who is a designer at one of New York's big fashion houses.

I explained to Louis that I was really excited about the new job, but also a little nervous about what to wear. Josh and I had gone on a little shopping extravaganza the weekend before, but I was still trying to figure out how to work my new look. After working in the non-profit world for so long, I knew that a major fashion shift was about to occur, which made me nervous since fashion isn't necessarily one of my great gay super powers.

"Well, after we finish up here, why don't we dig into your closet and pick out your outfit for your first day?" Louis offered. I accepted his offer immediately.

Back at Dylan's apartment we looked on as Louis thoroughly combed through the closet. He picked up a pair of pants and a light sweater, then furrowed his brow and put it down. He held up a polo and examined it, then looked at a different pair of pants. Nope. He continued rummaging through the closet until he came to the end of the rack.

"Do you have anything else?"

I looked at him sheepishly. "Not really."

He looked me up and down. "Hmmm," he said, pensively. "What's your waist size?"

I told him, and he immediately unzipped his pants.

"I'm gonna have you try these on," Louis said, now standing in his undies and light gray sweater.

"Really?" I asked. I tried them on and, to my surprise, they fit.

"They look good," he said, playing with the pants on my frame, making sure they were properly lowered on my hips. "And you know what? Here, just try on my sweater. See what happens."

"What? I can't just take your outfit!"

"Just -- no, just try it on. Let's see what happens."

The sweater came off his head and into my hands.

"Do you have an undershirt to go with it? Preferably a tank top?" I shook my head no. Then he smiled and took his tank top off and handed that to me as well. Louis stood wearing nothing but his undies and a pair of socks. Dylan grabbed him a pair of jeans and a t-shirt while I tried on the outfit.

The outfit was perfect. Somehow it actually fit, and looked good. Had hell frozen over and I'd missed the memo?

"Now that's an outfit for a first day at a magazine," he said to me, folding his arms across his chest. "John Varvatos cotton sateen pants, John Varvatos dip-dyed linen jacquard sweater and Marc by Marc Jacobs supima cotton tank. Perfect."

I looked at the labels on the clothes and my eyes widened. "Jesus, how much would this outfit cost?"

He shrugged. "Retail? Um, about $1200 or so. The pants are $500, the sweater is $700, and the tank is $50."

I gulped. Immediately I felt a new-found fear of eating, using ink pens, or riding the subway. The outfit I had been planning to wear on my first day would have been maybe $150. But this new outfit? Let's just say that I'd never worn the equivalent of a mortgage payment on my body before.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked.

"I'm sure," he said. "You have to look fabulous for your first day. Really, it's no big deal."

That's the kind of friend you want: the kind who will literally give you the clothes off his back.

The first day went very well. Besides enjoying the work and my new co-workers, I felt the rare sensation of actually looking good, having clothes that hugged all the right places, and yet blended in seamlessly at a Manhattan magazine. I ordered the least messy thing possible at lunch, I watched ink pens carefully all day, and didn't sit down on the subway on the brief ride home.

The outfit and I both made it through the first day. I managed to dig up a few other outfits that would do the job thereafter. But I do owe thanks to my fairy fashion godfather who made me a magazine Cinderella, even if only for my big first day.

Ah, bathing suit season again! Yes, that dreaded time of year has arrived when you haul your white ass out of the house, run around outdoors and do your cardio in preparation for the beach and the pool.

This year, however, I have a lot less work to do. Why, you ask? Because I just chucked 10 pounds in the last three weeks, and you can, too! All you have to do is have your appendix out, just like me! (But don't just go and get your stomach stapled. That's really cheating. My way is just sort of cheating. You see the important difference here?)

Your weight-loss appendectomy: sure, you chuck a few ounces from getting the little useless organ cut out of your abdomen, but you also have the added advantage of time spent consuming only IV fluids in the hospital, and then a few weeks of nausea related to your medication, several ensuing vomiting spells, and then a total lack of desire to eat in the next couple weeks. And then wham, bam, three weeks later you're 10 pounds lighter!

Remember that assistant girl from Devil Wears Prada? "I'm one good stomach flu away from my goal weight"? Well, I'm on to her. I got her ass beat. Abdominal surgery is so the new stomach flu.

Maybe next year for swimsuit season I'll have my pancreas out. I mean, because who really needs that, right? And besides, how else am I expected to cram myself into my square cut next year?

But let's let all that be our little secret, hmmm? Just between us girls.

What's that you say? The war in Iraq is a tragedy? Sure, sure. We agree. It is. But may we suggest another vitally important and very intellectual tragedy?

Then let's talk about ABC's Grey's Anatomy.

A couple years ago Josh and I fell in love with Grey's Anatomy at "hello." We've been devoted since Sandra Oh first opened her mouth, since we first saw Patrick Dempsey's hair and his half smile, since the show made us laugh and cry in the same three-minute scene. We stayed even when Addison Shepherd joined, and first hated her, but then grew to like her.

We stuck by with the intro of McSteamy (his best scene continues to be when he first stepped out of the shower), and even when Izzie went into her "boo hoo" stage over Denny. Our patience was tried with the whole "ferry boat accident" three-episode arc. That crap with Meredith briefly dying and talking to dead people in purgatory? Yeah, we weren't so sure about that. And the pregnant Jane Doe who can't remember who she is? We're just rooting for her to freakin' die already. (Oh shit, was that too harsh? Okay, okay. Maybe she can just go into a really deep coma. Off camera.)

What we're saying is this: Where the hell did our fabulous Grey's Anatomy go? Shonda Rhimes, where is your mind at? And now that we've all seen the preview episode of what you're going to do when you spin off Addison Shepherd next season into a new show? Dreadful. I read a magazine through most of the episode, flipping pages and occasionally looking up to watch the travesty unfolding across the screen.

We know you have it in you, Grey's Anatomy. Come back to us. We'll be waiting.

Josh & Josh Flashback

Two years ago today Josh and I graduated from college at the University of Minnesota Twin Cities.

Two years later, here we are, living in New York. We found apartments, jobs, and even love. Life's not perfect, but it sure ain't bad, either, and for that we're grateful.

Logo's Big Gay Sketch Show and Chris Garneau's "Music for Tourists"

Josh and I were invited to a party Sunday night at Therapy in Midtown to celebrate the series premiere of Logo's new TV show The Big Gay Sketch Show. At the last minute JK couldn't make it, but Dylan and I made our way over to check out the show and meet the cast.

I was a little worried about the show before we went to the party, hoping it'd be funny, and luckily it turned out to be hilarious. The entire first episode of the show is available on After Elton, and I'd recommend a viewing (thanks Andy). Particularly not to be missed is the sketch called "Lesbian Speed Dating." Dylan and I, and the rest of the crowd at Therapy, couldn't stop laughing. I'm sure it'll be making the rounds on YouTube in no time.

The gays finally have a funny sketch comedy of their own. The show premieres tonight on Logo, so check it out.

I also managed to find a video taken on Sunday night at Therapy, which shows the Big Gay Sketch Show cast meet-and-greet. It was shot right over my head, and I kept waiting for my head to come into view (though thankfully it doesn't). It's one of those weird reminders that YouTube is everywhere, and you never know when you'll turn up on the site.

I discovered sexy (and out) twenty-something singer/songwriter Chris Garneau and his album Music for Tourists in the last issue of The Advocate. I hunted down his record on iTunes and then found some of his videos on YouTube. (Though iTunes didn't give Chris the greatest review, NPR did.) Chris's song "We Don't Try" quickly latched itself onto my brain, and I'm still humming it. (No doubt Dylan will swat me on the shoulder any minute now and say, "We gotta find you a new song.")

In any case, check out the video below. A blogger in Paris shot the video with Chris, starting with him singing on a quiet Paris street and then entering a bustling Parisian cafe where Chris continues singing as he walks in, sits down at a piano, and begins playing. (If you're feeling impatient, just start the video at four minutes in.)

ABC's Brothers & Sisters, Curtis Sittenfeld's "The Man of My Dreams," and The Weekend in Review

The networks are just getting mean. Why must they make us wait weeks for new episodes of Grey's Anatomy, Ugly Betty, 30 Rock, and Heroes? Why the waiting, people? Why? (I know, I know: such high-minded questions. Forgive me.)

During this little television drought I began exploring the free online players that ABC and NBC offer on their websites, letting you watch their shows for free in a streaming online format, and I discovered a little gem: ABC's Brothers & Sisters.

I was a bit skeptical at first. Why would Oscar-winner Sally Field do television? Was Calista Flockhart's return to television going to be just Ally McBeal warmed over? Could Six Feet Under's Rachel Griffiths really step out of the shadow of Brenda Chenowith? I have to say, after watching a few episodes, I was not only hooked, but my fears were quickly allayed.

The show follows the Walker family, living in the suburbs of Los Angeles, featuring five adult children and a father who dies in the first episode, leaving the matriarch of the family, Nora (Sally Field), to put the pieces of her family back together. What ensues is a funny, and fun, Sunday night drama. (It's right after Desperate Housewives, y'all, if folks are still watching that.)

Sally, Calista, and Rachel are great. Matthew Rhys, as Kevin Walker, the gay sibling, is a lot of fun, too. So is the fact that his trysts and loves are thrown in with the rest of the stories utterly nonchalantly, and we see Kevin kiss his boyfriends, and fall into bed with them as well, steering away from other network dramas and comedies that only gloss over most gay characters' love lives.

Also not to be missed are the several episodes (starting with episode twelve) in which Jason Lewis (remember him from the sixth season of Sex and the City as Samantha's Absolut Hunk lover, Smith Jerrod?) plays Kevin's boyfriend. There's nothing quite like seeing Jason Lewis making out with another guy. I'm just sayin'.

Is it soapy sometimes, and maybe even occasionally a little too touchy-feely? Sure, maybe. Sometimes. But the rest of it is good enough that you can forgive a few transgressions. If you're intrigued, check it out the season's episodes for free on ABC's website.

Last year I read Prep, Curtis Sittenfeld's debut novel, which was named one of the  Top 10 Books of 2005 by The New York Times (and later optioned by Paramount Pictures), and loved it. Her second book (yep, Curtis is a woman), The Man of My Dreams, has a chick-lit title for a book that really isn't chick lit, and which I thought was as good as (but different than) her first book.

I snatched up The Man of My Dreams at Hudson News, the omnipresent bookstore at JFK airport that gets my fingers itching for a new book every time I hit the terminal, while on my way home for Easter in Minneapolis (just before my adventures in appendicitis began).

The story follows Hannah Gavener, an outsider (like her protagonist in Prep), who casts a detailed, critical eye on her boyfriends and her family. Opening when Hannah is fourteen, and finishing when she's twenty-eight, the book hop-scotches through sections of her life, almost like well-hewn individual short stories that come together to make a greater whole.

What's so fantastic here is Curtis's extreme knack for detail and specificity, truly breathing life into her fiction, and the smart-but-not-pretentious dialog and stream of thought. The language is clean and spare, with nothing wasted. How is it possible, I kept wondering, to say so much with so few words? Also, Curtis's unwavering eye, and her willingness to say things that people often think, but wouldn't be caught dead admitting, makes for compelling reading.

I've heard it said that some didn't find Hannah sympathetic enough, and that we don't see enough change in Hannah by the end of the book. It's true that Hannah isn't always sympathetic, but really, who among us is always sympathetic? It's part of what makes Hannah feel like a living, breathing person. And any questions about Hannah not changing enough in the book can be laid to rest, I think, with the final chapter of the book. It's not the Disney makeover at the end, but it's just enough, and that's what keeps it feeling real.

If you're taking a long road trip this summer, or flying somewhere far away, this is the perfect book (easy to pick up and put down, yet interesting when it's in your hands). Maybe get Prep, too, and have yourself a double dose of Curtis Sittenfeld. You won't be sorry you did.

The Weekend in Review

On Friday night Josh, Dylan, and I met our friend Eric for dinner in Hell's Kitchen at Yum Yum, a Thai place on Ninth Avenue. It was my first official social outing since all of the surgery fun, and it was great to be back out among the living. Afterward, Josh, Eric and I headed to Vlada, on 51st Street in Hell's Kitchen, and met up with Tony for drinks (non-alcoholic for me, what with the fun medications proscribed). Tony's hilarious, sweet friends Anthony and Matt joined us, and there are enough rowdy photos of the evening to serve as evidence that a good ol' time was had by all. I left at eleven to crawl back into bed, but Josh stayed out until after two. (Go, JK, go!)

On Saturday Josh K. spent time with a friend in the Village and bumped into J&J amigo Kevin Sessums. (Hi Kevin!) Afterward he went to a friend's birthday party on the Lower East Side, which ended in kitschy karaoke madness in Midtown. Meanwhile, on Saturday morning Dylan made scrambled eggs and then we took a walk up to and through Central Park. We saw a matinee of the Molly Shannon/Peter Sarsgaard movie Year of the Dog (it was okay), and had dinner at Sushi A-Go-Go near Lincoln Center. Afterward we curled in at the apartment and watched Pedro Almodovar's fantastic Volver. If you haven't seen it, you must rent it, even if it's just to watch the luminous (yes, I said "luminous"--apologies) Penelope Cruz work her thing. I really wanted her to win the Oscar this year. She deserved it.

Today Josh K. chilled in Washington Heights, now in his last week sharing my apartment before he moves to his new one in Hell's Kitchen, and he took a long walk in the 'hood. Further downtown, Dylan and I took a walk to the West Village where he got his hair cut and I finished reading my Curtis Sittenfeld novel at 'sNice, one of my favorite cafes. We hit up Biography Bookshop (where Dylan and I saw each other for the very first time, more than ten months ago now) and ate a Magnolia cupcake afterward. Per usual, I couldn't help leaving the store without a few books. We walked up to Chelsea for lunch at a burger place, and then came back to the apartment for a nap. Sunday, sweet Sunday.

It was a good weekend, y'all. I hope yours was even better. Have a kick-ass week, and stay tuned for some big news on Tuesday or Wednesday. (Muahahaha!)

Voting, The Tudors, Kevin Sessums, Lin-Manuel Miranda, and Amy Winehouse

Today is the last day of round two of the contest over at Malcontent in which sixty-four gay blogs are being pitted against each other, one pairing at a time, in NCAA Final Four fashion. And, you know, we're not Becky Ann Leeman or anything (if anybody, we're Amber Atkins) . . . but if you wouldn't mind terribly, might you maybe, possibly, kind of consider popping over to vote to help us land in the Top 16? If you've already voted at work, feel free to vote at home even, or vice versa, as necessary. ;)

* A few of our readers didn't seem to think it could happen, but after we posted about Josh K.'s hunt for an apartment share, we got a couple e-mails from readers about apartments in Chelsea and Hell's Kitchen that matched Josh's apartment search criteria. Josh followed up on both of the apartments, but unfortunately they eventually fell through. But, alas, it proved that there is indeed hope, and that you really can find a decent share below 96th Street for less than $950 a month. It just takes some luck. If any of you have any more luck to send, please feel free to do so. ;)

* Two weeks ago Josh and I wrote about seeing a special preview of Showtime's new series The Tudors (which you can now watch on their website). This week ads for the show are all over the New York City subway and are popping up in magazines (including, notably, the back cover of the March 27th Advocate). Word came out this week the The Tudors will feature a gay plot line, and Showtime leaked a clip of the great gay intrigue.

* Josh and I were totally geeked when we saw that Kevin Sessums, author of the new hit memoir Mississippi Sissy, mentioned us in one of his recent blog posts: "Thanks to all my friends - and even some strangers - for coming out to my Barnes and Noble reading last night. I even got to meet two of my favorite bloggers - Josh and Josh. I have to admit I even gushed a bit at meeting them. I read their blog all the time and have a double crush." Our jaws dropped when we read the post. I'd say that it was us that gushed at meeting him. Also, if you missed it, catch Andy's interview with Kevin.

* A couple weeks ago I did a sit-down interview with Lin-Manuel Miranda, the creator and star of the hit off-Broadway musical In The Heights. The show continues to do very well, and Lin-Manuel was even featured in the latest New Yorker Talk of the Town.

This week I discovered an artist named Amy Winehouse, and I can't seem to stop listening to her hits "Rehab" and "Back to Black," the title track from her new album. (Maybe Brit Brit was listening to "Rehab" on repeat while she was going through that whole head-shaving phase?) Amy is a smolderingly sexy Brit who has a voice that's one part Billy Holiday and another part Lauryn Hill, with a great 60s-yet-modern sound to it. Check her out and see what you think.

Crazed Sandra Bullock Attacks Ellen DeGeneres with a Bottle!

This is the thing about Sandra Bullock: you always knew homegirl had some ghetto tricks up her sleeve.

Witness Sandy on Ellen whipping out a wine bottle, smashing it over Ellen DeGeneres's head, and then brandishing the remaining neck with a fierce look in her eye like she's gonna cut a bitch.

Damn, girl!

Maybe Sandy be acting all crazy because she's pissed she hasn't made a good movie since over-blown Oscar favorite Crash? (I mean, really, The Lake House? And now Premonition? Check please!)

Watch the vicious attack for yourself.

Thanks Popbytes

On Netflix & Modern Love, Jonathan Rhys Meyers and Showtime's The Tudors, and Madonna's H&M Commercial

I've had a love relationship with Netflix, the delivered-to-your-door DVD movie service, since I signed up in April 2003. I was an undergraduate at the University of Minnesota, living in a studio-style dorm room, with a brown cushy sofa tucked under my loft bed and facing a TV. Josh K. lived two floors up in the same building, and several times a week we'd plop down on the couch, rip open one of the signature red DVD envelopes, and watch a movie.

We worked through some of our favorite movies on that collegiate couch. There was Almodovar's All About My Mother, a repeat viewing of Cate Blanchett's flawless performance in Elizabeth, our first stunned-silence viewings of Elephant and Dogville and Baraka, gay romantic tragedy The Trip, skewering religious comedy Saved!, among dozens of others. We often worked through three or four movies in a week, watching one DVD, sending it back, and putting the next one into the player.

Later, after Josh and I graduated, I changed my Netflix address, and the movies followed us to New York City. Every Friday night in New York, after a long week at work, we'd plop on the cushionless red Ikea couch in the living room of our Upper East Side apartment, order a large pizza from the Domino's across the street, and rip open one of the red envelopes.

This summer, when I started dating Dylan and Josh had moved back to Minneapolis for several months, I began bringing my Netflix stash to Dylan's apartment. After work we'd toss in a movie, curl into bed, and munch on snacks. Pretty soon I was regularly carting my movies to Dylan's, throwing them in my  bag on the occasions when I went back to my apartment to check my mail.

And, alas, we came to a critical juncture in modern love, where Netflix and romance cross paths. There is, of course, that stage in modern love where folks have to think about changing their Friendster or MySpace profiles from "Single" to "In a Relationship," which brings a certain amount of hilarity. Then there is the matter of Netflix.

For months Dylan and I would watch movies at his apartment, send the DVDs back, and then I'd have to wait until the next time I ventured to my place to get the fresh batch of movies.

Then, last week, the fateful conversation: "Uhm, hey, Dylan? Uhm . . . Would it just make more sense for me to have the movies sent . . . here? Like, to your apartment? But with my name on it and then just put 'care of Dylan' in the address or whatever?" A pause. A flash of Dylan's "thinking face" and then simply: "Yeah, that makes sense. Sure."

And so it was done. A click, a few keystrokes, and Netflix was diverted to the new address. Almost four years later the little red envelopes are still with me, from college to my first New York apartment with Josh, and now to my boyfriend's apartment downtown, right at the intersection of Netflix and modern love.

A couple weeks ago Showtime invited Josh and I to a screening of their new series "The Tudors". They said we could bring a friend, so we invited our friend Eric. It was a particularly appropriate invitation, we thought, since the three of us had a unique experience meeting Jonathan Rhys Meyers, the star of "The Tudors," several months earlier. (With Eric's appreciation of HBO's "Rome" we also thought it might be a worthy invite.)

Josh and I are workin' on getting an interview with one of the "Tudors" cast members, so I don't want to get too heavily into details, but I will say that the three of us enjoyed the show at the screening last night. There's plenty of steamy sex, intrigue, scandal, betrayal, and plotting. By the time the second episode finished I was definitely wondering what would happen next, cursing the fact that I'd have to wait until April to find out. (They better be selling "The Tudors" on iTunes TV so I can keep up. I'll be pissed if I have to wait to find out what happens until it comes out on DVD.) (But, hey, we could always Netflix it. Heh heh.)

More about "The Tudors" soon. Hopefully we'll have an interview to share with you.

Today I saw Madonna's new H&M commercial, which she directed, promoting the limited edition clothes she designed for the company.

The first time I saw the commercial I wasn't sure if I liked it. This meant, of course, that I had to click the video again and see how I felt the second time. Then a third, then a fourth. It definitely grew on me. It's kitschy, it's campy, it's funny. Josh and I watched it together tonight and had a good laugh.

Check it out for yourself and see what you think.

Bravo's 'Workout': The New Dealer in Town

The iTunes TV show department is a like a crack dealer. They give you your first one free, and then you're hooked.

The trouble started when two Netflix DVDs showed up at my apartment and then were too damaged to play properly (something that has never happened to me in the three years that I've had Netflix).

I sat there thinking, "F**k, now what do I do?" Did I want to go and support facist ol' Blockbuster? No. And did I really feel like walking there, anyway? Nuh-uh.

So, I did what any rational human being would do in my situation. I clicked open iTunes and perused what TV offerings they had. I figured that $1.99 would be a fair trade for not having to actually leave my apartment and rent something.

I started with LOGO's "Wisecrack" series, in which GLBT comics let 'er rip during a taping at West Hollywood's famed Abbey. I watched Miss Coco Peru and Alec Mapa work their thing, and laughed so hard that I found myself wishing Joshie K. was with me. (Josh and I love us some good stand-up comedy.)

The real crack rock came the next night, though.

I was clicking through Bravo's TV selections (since when did they get so many good shows? A&E, too) and I saw "Workout," a new reality series that is doing heavy advertising around town, which I knew featured three gay and lesbian characters. I was already curious about the show (damn you American advertising machine!), and the first episode was free, so there I was, watching "Workout."

The show follows Jackie Warner, a fiery hot lesbian with a voice like Scarlett Johansson (sexy, sexy voice), who owns an exclusive gym (called Sky Gym) in Los Angeles. (I want to be Jackie. What's with me wanting to be lesbians lately? First there was Alex Hedison, now there's Jackie Warner. What's going on here?) The show follows Jackie and her staff of trainers at Sky and, God help me, it was sorta entertaining.

Let me clarify: I'm not a big fan of television in general (evidence: I don't own a television), and I'm an even bigger non-fan of reality TV. Admitting that I like a reality TV show enough to watch the free episode, but then also purchase following episodes, is like saying I like watching kitties get drowned. (I don't. Relax, PETA.) I'm just saying. But there you have it.

So, you know, be warned of our online neighborhood's new crack slinger, iTunes TV. If they catch you one vulnerable I-don't-have-a-DVD night, understand that the relationship isn't going to be a one-time thing.

You'll probably be coming back for more.

Consider yourself warned.

Designing Blind: A New Vision for the TV Design Show Genre

At first it seems impossible.

Eric Brun-Sanglard is an interior designer with his own design show, called Designing Blind, on A&E. The catch? Eric is blind.

Eric, a native of Chamonix, France, moved to the United States at the age of 18, and initially found success as a creative director in the fragrance advertising industry.  Fifteen years later, at the age of 33, Eric went blind after a battle with CMV retinitis, a virus that causes inflammation of the retina.

Eric's career in interior design began modestly.  He started by purchasing two small, run-down homes, and renovated and redesigned the homes with his then-partner, turning the homes around and beginning Eric's reputation for simple-yet-sleek design.  His business quickly grew, and eventually included Hollywood celebrities like Virginia Madsen (Sideways, A Prairie Home Companion).

After filming a "demo" of Eric transforming an old garage into a guest house, A&E greenlighted the show, which debuted Sunday, with an intial order of 13 episodes.

Using a talking tape measurer, Braille-like blueprints, and his other senses, which have heightened since his loss of sight, Eric is able to design, as one blogger put it, "better than the people on Trading Spaces."

Designing Blind, co-hosted by the likeable and funny Alex Hedison (photographer, L Word actress, and former girlfriend of Ellen DeGeneres), is a fresh breath of air in the TV design show genre.

I met Eric this afternoon at his Manhattan hotel while he is in town for appearances on NBC's Today and Live with Regis & Kelly.  Hearing his schedule, I said that it sounded like he was having a busy week.

"A busy week?" Eric asked in his trademark French-accented English. "It's more like a busy life," he said, laughing. Eric's two cell phones rang repeatedly, a producer, reporter, or business associate on the line, Eric amiably dealing with each call, sometimes with a phone in each hand.

My guess is that Eric wouldn't have it any other way.

Check out Eric and his show featured in the St. Paul Pioneer Press, Los Angeles Times, and Newsday.

Catch "Designing Blind" (30 mins.) on A&E, Sundays at 5 p.m. (Check your local listings to confirm showtimes.)

--Josh H.

The Queers Are Back: 'Queer as Folk' Season Five on DVD

Next Tuesday the final season of Showtime's Queer as Folk comes out on DVD. It's been more than a year since the series finished its run on television, so it's about damn time.

I realize QAF is a little flakey, and that The L Word (which I love) is miles better in every category (acting, writing, production values, depth, etc.), but I've been watching the QAF cast since high school when it came out, so I kind of want to see how the whole thing ends. Hopefully it'll end better than some of the other LGBT-themed shows, like Will & Grace.

See Ya, Elliott

On tonight's Idol they sent Elliott Yamin packing.

Meanwhile, Katharine McPhee and Taylor Hicks are the final contestants going on to compete next week.

Let me go on the record: It should be Katharine and Chris going to the final two, not Katharine and Taylor "I Frequently Have Seizures While Singing" Hicks.

But enough vapid chit chat. I have to get my ass back on Craigslist and hunt for a place to live.

And, no, the landlord didn't call.