'The Playboy Club' Has Sexual Content?!?

NBC'S, 'The Playboy Club' Boycotted By PTC
When you think of 'Playboy' what is the first thing that comes to mind? Is it Kraft Cheese? What about Campbell's Soup? What comes to my mind is sex, fame, and bunnies of course. So why are Campbell's and Kraft two of the seven sponsors canceling their advertising during 'The Playboy Club' after the first episode? If their expectations were for the show to contain fully clothed women and discuss the turn of a new matriarch society in 1963; they might need to reevaluate who is in charge of their media buying. The PTC (Parents Television Council) describes the show as objectifying and degrading women since it was picked up by NBC. I describe it as Chicago in 1963. 

The president of the PTC, Tim Winter, said Wednesday, “What has been clear to everyone outside of NBC must now be clear even to those inside NBC: The Playboy Club is a commercial disaster and must be removed from the airwaves. We call for the network to cancel this degrading and sexualizing program immediately."

I call for the PTC to join us in 2011.

Whether it's the PTC's criticism of the show or the racy content making the sponsor's back out there is no need to pull the show. I am all for women's rights, but  'The Playboy Club' is going to contain material not suitable for children and apparently not suitable for the PTC.
A sponsor can find a media outlet or showtime unfitting to their product/brand, if this is the case, be my guest, pull out (no pun intended). If they are canceling their spots simply because of the bullying and criticism from one group saying the show is "a broadcast television program that is mainstreaming the pornography industry", then the issue is not the show but rather their own substantiality as a company. The PTC needs to start targeting shows like Two and a Half Men, How I Met Your Mother, or Desperate Housewives, all on before 10 pm (not that I want them to) but at least you know what to expect with a show entitled 'The Playboy Club'.

Rock on NBC and rock on Hef!

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/the-playboy-club-chrysler-continue-advertising-ptc-241627

The Emmy Awards: Radiant in Red

The Emmy Awards Show occurs every year and every year the stars come out in the showstopper outfits or the outfits that could only have been chosen in the dark. I took a few hours out of my busy work day to provide my own critque on the different wardrobe choices at the 2011 Emmy Awards.

At every Awards show you have the hits and you have the misses. This year was no different, from the obnoxious red pants worn by Alan Cumming to the show stopping Vera Wang dress worn by Sofia Vergara, TV's biggest night brought out the biggest stars AND the boldest fashion statements. Kate Winslet, Lea Michelle, Nina Nobrev, Connie Britton and Kerry Washington were all radiant in red, but while they were busy blending into the carpet; stars like Katie Holmes, Julie Bowen, Dianna Agron and Gwyneth Paltrow stood out in the nights WINNING looks.

Alan Cumming

Kate Winslet

  

Connie Britton



  

       

Lea Michelle

Kerry Washington

Sofia Vergara

Nina Dobrev

Gwyneth Paltrow

Katie Holmes

Julie Bowen

Diana Argon

As for the MEMMYS or rather the men of the Emmy's, it was hard to miss Heidi Klum's main squeeze, Seal. His suit choice or lack there of showed off his chiseled, shiny chest almost as much as his PDA for wife, Heidi. We don't blame you, Seal, Heidi was beaming in her Project Runway alum, Christian Siriano, gown. More big winners of the night walking away with both Emmy and 'best dressed nominations included the always dapper, John Hamm (MadMen), Ty Burrell (Modern Family) and Kyle Chandler (Friday night Lights). It's hard to find anything wrong with these strapping lads.

Seal and wife, Heidi Klum

John Hamm and longtime girlfriend

Add caption

Ty Burrell

 One of the night's biggest moments was the Emmy presented to outstanding lead actress in a Comedy, Melissa McCarthy. While all the nominees were dressed to the nines; it was McCarthy who demonstrated what can be considered some of the most fashion foward qualities; a humble, confident and classy presence.

Megan McCarthy

After much deliberation and several best-dressed nominees I've put my top four choices up for your final vote. The front runners for the 2011 Best dressed Emmy Fashion Award go to the Vera Wang picture perfect dress worn by Sofia Vergara, the stand out Elie Saab gown donned by Kate Winslet, the striking yet simple Marchesa gown Lea Michelle fit into perfectly and the blood-red, Donna Karan gown Nina Dobrev wore with such confidence.

Looks like this year's Emmy Awards Show was the year blending into the red carpet was the right fashion statement of the night.

I'd Rather Shadow a Dog.

I moved to California almost two years ago. It took me a little while, but I've done pretty well for myself so far.  I almost gave into those people who predicted I would head back to Nebraska after a few months of fun. Well to 'those people', in the words of the ill-tempered Chris Brown, "Look at me now"! Not you mom- your prediction of California falling into the ocean for being the reason I leave is far different than the others. It hasn't been easy: the money, the interviews, the apartment searching, the giant step I took moving in with the BF after 5 months, the tracker, the traffic, and did I mention the interviews?

During the first six months in California, I almost turned my resume into Sonic and resorted back to the old days when I was the only car hop brave enough to deliver the food while wearing roller skates. Sure, I ran into a few cars while spilling their slushies and chili dogs all over their laps, but the stoppers on skates are totally different than rollerblades. I figured, this might not be the best option since I probably had gotten worse at rollerskating with age. Twenty-one...maybe.


I could've taken my mom's advice, "Claire, why don't ya just go down the street to Starbucks and apply for a position there. They heard they really take care of you there," she said.

Really mom? First of all, there is no Starbucks down the street like you say. It's a Coffee Bean and I highly doubt they take care of you the way Starbucks could. Starbucks- out.

But luckily, I found a job and here I am on my break sitting in the corner of Panera bread drinking an iced tea and eating my own Triscuits and turkey out of a zip lock bag, just to use their wi-fi. I'm still cheap. But, I'd have to say the job search leading up to my current job was one of the most interesting and devastating times in my life.

One of my interviews even took me out in Brentwood for an eight hour day only to walk into businesses and ask to upgrade their phone service while 2 out of 3 times getting escorted off the property by security. It started out with a 45 minute drive to a 'pre-interview' where I met 13-15 sales reps who had their designated territories. I was one of the three people interviewing for a position at the marketing firm and we were all assigned to a sales rep who we would 'shadow'. I was paired with the short blonde, who looked like she was dressed for homecoming, wearing too much make-up, and smelled as if she smoked a shit-ton but covered it up with a very potent fragrance. She was a peach. We got done with our motivational speech from the overly tan, pumped up manager who probably did nothing all day except prepare for the next days motivational speech. I then found myself driving for close to an hour in the stop and go traffic with my new friend, let's call her Beth. She looked like a Beth. We went up and down the streets of Brentwood (a very ritzy neighborhood by the way) into businesses and offices only to be told 'no' and looked at like they were thinking, 'This is seriously your job?' When I saw this face on one of our solicitees, I looked at Beth the exact same way. I started to feel sick, that's how much I hated this 'interview'. I almost called my boyfriend who was an hour away to come pick me up. Instead, I followed little Beth on her quest to check out people's phone bills.

The last building we entered was a large skyscraper type structure filled with multiple offices. There was a security guard's desk at the front. The last building we visited was similar to this one and they did not let us in. You would think this would stop Beth. Luckily, for Beth, the guard must've taken a long lunch because he was not at the front desk. She proceeded to walk at a brisk speed to the elevator. It seems only obvious that when you are looking out for a security guard and walking at a rather fast speed, you might be doing something wrong, not Beth. She went into office after office, unnanounced and unwelcomed. I would try to stay in the hallway, but she would always turnaround to introduce me so I had to step in. If there was a plant or statue, I did my best to hide the skinny way behind it (seeing as I'm rather broad). Finally,  we were headed to the elevators where I was sure we would make an exit. Beth pushed the 'up' arrow!
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"We're gonna go try the next floor, I don't understand why people are being so rude here, it's not normally like this," Beth shared.
"Oh really? It's not, huh," I said sarcastically.
The elevator opened to present the slacking security guard who I blame for my entrance into this building. He asked if we were the girls going to every office soliticing the workers. Beth told him it wasn't soliciting and that she got one follow-up appointment. He asked what we were doing and after he heard Beth's explanation, he continued to define 'soliciting' for us. He escorted us all the way to the Exit of the building where we were kicked out. There's probably a picture of Beth and I in the building entrance banning us to this day. It's of Beth looking at a phone bill and myself, hiding behind a plant.

I continued down the long set of stairs, when I missed a step but since I was hanging on to the railing for dear life, I swung around the rail and landed on my knee. I then told Beth, "I'm not feeling well."

I'd rather shadowed a dog, all day.


Break's over.

Fired before 'Hired'

Everyone has that first, dreaded job interview. The one that makes your stomach travel up to your throat and stay there until you know you are safely out of the interviewer's building. The interview that is put on the map as one of the worst conversations ever had with a human being. No? Not you? Maybe it's me, but interviews provide me with an upset stomach from the moment a date and time is confirmed with the interviewer. I might as well tell them to just forget it. I WILL screw it up. How are you supposed to have a 20 minute conversation with someone and allow them to judge you on that meeting for what could turn into the rest of your career? It's like my personality shoots out the window and I'm sitting there looking like I just went into an interview-induced coma. I black out. I'm pretty sure I blacked out for the first four months of living in California because every interview was a disaster and I seemed to have several disasters...


It had been close to four months, I had gone on about six interviews and I had yet to impress one person. Since my original goal when moving to Hollywood was to become an actress, head of Entertainment Marketing, a writer, or Publicist somewhere, I was surprised when the offers were not rolling in. This was going to be more difficult than I thought. I was lucky enough to receive my first interview for a Junior Agent with a Modeling Agency. I would have the power to choose who is pretty enough to model. This was my chance to save face for all the gingers out there. The next part of the phone call took a slight turn:

"One more thing, Claire; MTV will be taping the interviews for a new show called, Hired. You will need to meet with a career coach before the interview so he can give you a few tips for the interview. This will also be on tape. It's a real position, it just so happens the interviews will be taped. No big deal."


"Oh wow, OK, that's fine," I said. "as long as we are focusing on the job at hand."


"Of course, there will just be a few cameras there documenting the process. You will hardly be on tape. I have included a contract you will need to sign and send back before the career coach interview. Talk to you soon!"


I signed the contract without reading a single word.

Like I said, I turn into a different person when the word 'interview' enters into the mix, so now not only do I have one interview with the Model Agency, I have two and they are taped. Perfect.  Needless to say, the day of the career coach meeting I was not excited. I had a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball and the only way to get passed this was a shot of Jameson. I didn't think this was the best career move so I opted for a sugar free Red bull to get my high. I was put in a room with two other girls. We were getting ready for our meeting with the career coach when a production assistant came in the room to put a microphone down my shirt. This was farther than I had gone with my 8th grade boyfriend of six months (that is like a three year relationship in middle school). Anyways, the whole 'you won't even notice the cameras are there' thing...lie! I was asked to walk out of the waiting room, down the stairs and to the interview room. I was then told to stop, turnaround, now walk back to the end of the hallway, up the stairs and begin walking again on the count of three. I repeated this several times until I cued to walk into the interview room. Completely normal. 


The career coach told me I needed to get rid of the large 'trapper keeper'  I was carrying. First helpful and humiliating tip of the day. I might as well brought in a rolling suitcase. For this position, I would need to be able to read people's moods. He asked me what I thought of his mood that day, my response, "You are chipper and professional." What the hell did I just say? Not to worry, I could just resort back to the tapes! The interview ended with an awkward handshake and another dig at the 'trapper keeper'. The post-interview was held on my way out of the building. It was only me talking to the camera which was a disaster. I couldn't put sentences together and I couldn't answer the questions in a full sentence like they asked me to do. Finally they told me not to worry about it and just leave.


I went to the actual interview a week later which didn't go much better. In the waiting room, I sat next to a short, young man whose previous job was as a Junior Agent in New York. I would've walked out right there, but I was being documented on video. My resume consisted of Arnold's Tavern, The Lincoln Journal Star, Pinnacle Bank in Havelock, and Wet Seal all in Lincoln, Nebraska. My name was finally called and it was time to show off my beaming personality to a partner at the agency. He began talking to me about Nebraska, like every interviewer does, maybe they believe it will get me in my comfort zone. What they don't know is I have no comfort zone. He asked me the normal questions; why are you right for this position? Why do you want to work here? Why are you turning bright red when you speak? OK, he didn't ask that last question but I know he wanted to. Then, he asked me a not so typical question, "Do you know what a 'comp card' is?"


I sat there in silence. I knew that my answer could either be extremely wrong or exactly right. I'm sure you can guess the latter.


"Ummm...I'm not positive," I stammered.
"Just guess, no big deal," he said.
"I think it's a card you get and use so you don't have to pay for anything. The entire purchase is free or 'comped', I said, totally unsure and ready for my back lashing.
"I mean, that's a good guess, but...no," his words were more of a stab to the throat, where my stomach was the past 2 weeks. "It's a card displaying the models sample pictures, head shots, info, etc., like those on the wall," he pointed to the 100's of comp cards on the wall.


Good research job, Claire. I decided this was the end of my career as a Model Agent. I gave a nice, firm handshake and left this man who I hoped to never see again. Not because he was rude or unprofessional, but because I looked like a douche.


The show later appeared on MTV. (If you look this up and I find out, you can consider us defriended). I started getting texts and calls from people I hadn't heard from in months or even years who said they just saw me on MTV. Yeah, you saw me, I look green, bloated, and stupid, that's the end of it. It's true what they say though, the camera does add the 10 lbs of baby fat I thought I shed a few months ago. The interviewer from the Model Agency told the millions/hundreds of  MTV viewers that I was 'too nice' for the job. I needed to have a thicker skin to be a Junior Agent. I have to say, good thing I had never heard of a Junior Agent position before this interview; otherwise I might've been pretty upset.


What I took away from these two death-defying interviews was I didn't do half bad; I was chosen from hundreds of resumes, I didn't get a terrible critique from the interview, and I made my tv debut. Looks like my dreams of becoming a Hollywood star were finally coming true....


I got the job!

Just kidding. The short guy did.

Teen Lines and Tilt Tales

Instead of washing my hair this morning, I hit snooze over and over (more than my regular 7 times), laying in bed thinking of ways I could get out of work. Could I be sick?? No, people would just talk behind my back about how I have the 'brown bottle flu'. I hate that phrase so I couldn't have them saying that. Could my dog be sick? No, I've already used that. Did I have to be rushed to the emergency room? I decided to go a different route, now I sat there thinking of jobs I could do from home but actually still be successful.

I'm at work now.

It's Tuesday, the day after the 4th of July. It was a long weekend full of sunbathing, drinking, too much food, too much drinking, and too much researching where each checkpoint in LA was set up. It wasn't a crazy holiday like some in the past. I woke up every morning knowing where I was and who I was next to, which will make my boyfriend happy. Five blondes in a convertible headed down to San Diego on Saturday a.m. and what should be a 2 hour drive made into a 4 hour drive. Along with one of our friends being abnormally drunk from one tilt the trip was a success. We were able to dance, ride in a 'bike cart' around Downtown San Diego, lose Jenna, fall over a curb, eat Subway after hours where Stacie apparently picked up the Arabic language, "I know you're talking about me, I know what you are saying!", fight about one of our friends not having cash, fight about walking instead of cabbing, and learn that Jenna sounded slightly like a lesbian as a child and also had a teen line.

After the weekends events, I've concluded that not only should we have the day after a holiday off of work, but we should have the entire week off. Especially for our nation's holiday. The older I get, the longer I need to recover and the longer it takes me to remember the events of the weekend.

At the gas station where Katie got a long-haired man to come over and take our photo.

Festive 4th of July Frocks

The 4th of July is holiday is one of my favorite holidays because it combines the best things in life...Fireworks, days off, lakes/oceans, friends, family, booze and food. I also enjoy this holiday not only because it celebrates our independence but because it doesn't involve the money and time spent on holidays like Christmas, New Years, Halloween, or my friend, Madi's, birthday. I don't need to go buy a new dress or presents, I can mooch off other people's fireworks by simply sitting outside, and I'm not required to wear much make-up or clothing.

Several celebrities have sported their own Patriotic themed outfits over the years. I have included a few July 4th wardrobe options I'm thinking about sporting, who do you think rocked their Patriotic Pride the best?
(I didn't include Miley Cyrus because it seems her normal attire is a USA bikini top and cut off shorts)

Cindy Crawford can do no wrong in her Patriotic Pasties and striped bottoms




Saluting Britain

 


Burning this outfit is the closest I'd come to burning an American Flag



No funny skits, jokes, or punch lines...Tina's Tribute is Simply Glorious!

Fighting for America or a scene in one of the 30 Rocky Movies!

Typical.

I think we've got a winner. I might even have that shirt already.

Smothered in Stars and Stripes spirit!

Just a little fabric can make a big statement.



 "Peace in the...middle east.....?"



I should be looking at his medals, but his mustache is distracting me from the whole package.

Hi, I'm pretty.

The picture of Freedom and Liberty and a lot of make-up remover.

I think I have everything but the hat....too much??

I feel I would HAVE to go fight crime if I wore this and I just want to celebrate.

Halo Hail Mary

I understand the importance of hobbies, extracurricular activities, and any other way to spend your free time then just Facebook, TV, or sitting on the couch. But one thing I don't understand is some people's obsession with video games. An obsession as in more than just a random death match every now and then, or a hour every couple days, but a sheer obsession for the massive killing of your counterparts. There is a line, and several cross it every day.

I will admit, I get carried away with random iPad games now and then. A good run of Bejeweled or Angry Birds could last near 2 hours. I might forget to turn the light off and end up sleeping with my iPad on my face. Does this mean I ignore others or the television program I currently have on? No. I'm a multi-tasker. I attribute this ability to the fact that I have boobs and we as females are naturally talented in this way.

The problem is not the death-filled games like Grand Theft Auto, Call of Duty (COD as 'they' call it), or Halo 1, 2, or 16. The problem is being in a relationship with someone who decides these games trump the words that come out of your mouth. For instance, a past boyfriend of mine would play HALO (first edition) constantly.  At first, I looked past this 'hobby' because I figured I'd lied to him about my age, I deserved a few nights of him choosing Halo games over me.

I tried to engage myself in his"past time", that's what you do in relationships, but for several reasons I had to stop engaging. I created a name for myself, 'Gatetemptress69', which was obviously a genius name; however, it didn't help my number of 'kills', I still couldn't figure out how to look up or down. I could've been like my cousin's girlfriend who would play only to be used as a shield for my cousin. They recently broke up, I'm guessing she left post. Either way, not my style, so I decided to try and accept HALO and choose to either leave the room or play dead. I once entered the house to find a 23 year-old man with a headset on, sweating profusely while playing HALO in the living room. You figure, a door opening would send a signal to a person that it is time to look at the door and welcome who is entering. His eyes didn't leave the alien world. I thought to myself, I think I'm coming in second best here. A few more nights of HALO playing until the early hours of the morning and then there was the HALO Hail Mary, the bing to the bang, the final straw, okay I'm obviously not good at these sayings. One evening when the video gamer was in full 'gamer mode' I chose to not leave the room but take a nap. I woke up to this conversation:

"You're the bitch!"
SILENCE - Halo assassin on the other end of the headphone spoke.
"Yeah, whatever, how old are you, 15? Your parents don't even love you."
SILENCE AGAIN
"Obviously I don't have as high of a kill score as you, I actually have to go to an 8 to 5 job every day!"
SILENCE
"Seriously?? This is what I'm waking up to."- I said. I left, forever.

Not really, but I did realize I would need to reevaluate a few things. Was I going to have an ultimatum between a plastic video game, headset and a loving red-head like myself? Yes, yes I was. The headset won.

I have learned Gatetemptress can't change anyone. It is engraved in 80% of men to have this sense of  'killing' and 'gaming' nature that takes over their perception of reality. I'm currently in a relationship with another 'gamer' who has tried to make a few sacrifices regarding his COD time and they don't go unnoticed. Although, I have woken up to one of his 4:00 a.m. 'abort missions', I'm growing just like the video game graphics. What I've learned in my gaming relationships, I simply want my gamer to acknowledge when I walk into a room so they can see the look of disgust on my face towards there gaming. Is that so much to ask?

Gatetemptress69