“. . .” How come all of your emails end in “. . .”? What exactly are you trying to imply when you say that you “love my last name. . .” or “We should hang out…”? Your strategically placed form of punctuation is not endearing. It’s not some geeky pause. It’s just plain creepy....

Ethnic Restaurant Demeanor During lunch at the taco stand you attempt to impress the white stoner serving second-rate burritos by commenting on how fresh the “awacados” are, with a sly smile. At the sushi restaurant that night you start pontificating about Japanese tea ceremonies. Are you expecting the waitress to take you into the kitchen...

Mediabistro.com Why don’t you ask my former intern, the one who used to fetch me lattes, to conduct a behind-the-scenes report on Heeb and fail to disclose in her “report” that she was, in fact, Heeb‘s former stamp-licker? Seriously, how low can you go? You’re getting a lecture on journalistic integrity from a magazine whose...

Cupcakes Must all our pleasures now be “luxe”? The humble iced cupcake used to give a cheap but satisfying thrill. No more. It’s had a grotesque and pricey makeover. Icing’s out, replaced by a thick, damp gob of buttercream. It sits like an absurd, top-heavy bonnet atop the squat and dowdy cake. And you just...

Cabining Cabining is like camping, but in little cabins. You separate from nature with paper-thin walls, have somewhere to run to when the animals get aggressive and look like a hero for working the fire pit. Would it have been too much to ask to put an air-conditioned lobby next to “Sycamore Village”? I guess...

The WGA I come from Russian-Jewish stock. I practically have socialism running in my veins. But when, in the wake of a nasty strike, the WGA leadership makes public the names of those who have opted out of the union and calls on the membership to “ostracize” (read: blacklist) those writers, it evokes bitter memories...

The Star’s Producing Partner You grew up with him. Or went to acting class with her. Or were the first dude he met the day before finally getting cast on the show that Changed His Life. But because your name is right next to his on the bungalow, where, from your perch, you get to...

Bad Nuts Once in a while, even when munchin’ on, say, a bag of high-end Bazzini cashews, you’ll come across a nut that tastes a li’l fruitier than the others. Disgusting. So, who in their right mind would have the gall to sell a bag of just those heinous nuts? I tried one of those...

Hotel Key Cards Yes, my key card did go near “a cell phone and/or credit card.” I guess that’s why it got de-magnetized, forcing me to trudge through the 50-degree casino in flip-flops and a sopping wet bathing suit all the way to the front desk. Thanks for sparing me the inconvenience of twisting a...

“I Might Make It” The response that frequently oozes from the mouths of self-centered social-climbers who are unable to confirm their Sunday plans on Saturday. Perhaps I’m just being petty. After all, how can I possibly expect the assistant to the publicist who knows the casting agent behind Tim Burton’s latest project to make a...

Clipboard People Soliciting for a cause outside cafes where poor writers with left-leaning ideologies and hair-trigger guilt complexes go to eke out existences? No thanks, I’ll skip the gut punch to my self-worth as I shake my head, put my hands in my pockets and slink back to my apartment to call my disappointed mother...

“Just a Tweak” Many words should be struck from the Hollywood lexicon (“passion” comes to mind), but nothing makes me wince like the use of “tweak.” If you want a page-one rewrite, just say so and stop giving me this “We love it! We’d just like a couple tweaks” crap. Do you think my self-esteem...