I don’t know about you but I’m not into this cold weather. It’s way too cold out there. I’m telling you, I can be indoors from the cold for half and hour and the cold is still deep in my bones. Plus, I wasn’t sleeping so well ’til the last two nights. It sho’ nuff is something to wake up, feeling like you haven’t slept but five good minutes and then have to face the cold while dark is still out. But I’m not here to whine, though I realize I just did…So. Whatever… I’m really here to share this personalized postcard from Beatrice who’s found her place under the sun.
Hello, you fabulous people trying to stay warm. I am so delighted to be with you from where I am, I just had to share. Yes, I’m sipping from a coconut and have picked up a rasta as I listen to dis raggae, mon. Dem beats play in de background and I do tink I’ve picked up an accent, yah. Peace to you and glory to the sun while dis girl has herself some fun. Miley, take some lessons from the people who invented twerking, okay?
It’s Grammy time, people and I am in the mix. As is such, I’m going Dutch, though I do plan on snatching up a single and available tux in the crowd, okay.
Ladies and gentlemen, one artist who won’t be in attendance is Justin Bieber. He’s dealing with legal and emotional issues at present. No, we do not want him driving anywhere. What I would like to see, Justin, is you enrolled in How to Be A Human Being without Money Whose Got Some Sense 101. Yes, I know you’re young and rich but this does not justify or excuse your behavior. You are putting lives other than your own at risk and any person who’s not so self-absorbed as you are knows this. Please, get a grip and stop acting as if the world owes you something. Pay for the help you need, so I can scandalize other people in Hollywood, okay?
Jennifer, as in Aniston, when is the wedding, darling? The nation wants America’s sweetheart to tie the knot. I read that Fiance dumped you and then I recently read that you two secretly married. I don’t think you did and I need you to do me the favor of making the nuptials public in a massive way, so the rag papers will stop making you appear so fractured since your divorce from Brad. Aren’t you simply tired of the stories? You’re becoming more famous for the divorce than for your acting abilities. I just don’t hear much about this skillset you’re supposed to have.
Well people, the cameras are flashing and I need to sashay down the red carpet in this svelte red and purple number that I can barely breathe in. The work it takes to be fabulous can be as painful as it is costly. Stay or get beautiful, whichever is applicable to you, okay? I’ll see you at the after party…Oh, you weren’t invited. Pooh!
Beatrice from Apartment 7B
Thank you so much for holding while I finished that phone call. When you’re in hot demand, like myself, you simply have to tell people no sometimes. Denzel, and I won’t say his last name, can be so annoying sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, he’s still fine and fabulous but so am I, okay?…At least he sounded like the real thing but never mind that. I’m not in the business of discrediting how fabulous I am.
It is absolutely freezing here in the ATL, people. The wind is blowing so hard, it’s almost as fierce as I am. As I stepped a stiletto onto the foyer to get out of the elements, Denzel rang me up as if he’s familiar. As he should be but anyway, he called, wanted to swing by as if I’m some holler back girl. Naturally, I said no because I’m only a last minute kind of girl when I’m doing the dropping in, okay?
Anyway, it’s come to my understanding that Porscha, from the Real Housewives, is getting the boot after two seasons. I’m so happy for the people who watch that show to see you go, Porscha. Now, that you’re divorced, is your last name changing to Ditz, because you don’t know too much about anything. What school graduated you, hon? And not to offend blonds but Porscha darling, were you that black chick meeting the quota to attend Dumb Blond University? I mean, really! You’ve not only set education back to a time where black people couldn’t be formally educated in America, you have our ancestors rolling over and questioning if their struggle was for naught. Maybe that’s why it’s so cold outside. Yes, I’m going to blame you for my well-pedicured toes still unthawing after 15 minutes of being in the house.
People, I’m done here. Have a look for yourself. I’m going to get with my people and see if I can track down this woman’s number because I owe her a slap. Stay beautiful. I know I will.
Forever yours and Denzel’s,
Beatrice from Apartment 7B
Yes, I’ve been caught in a somewhat compromising position. I have my very own paparazzi, as in Totsy, that is. You see, when you’re shooting for fame, being fabulous alone isn’t enough. You have to start your own fire and pour lighter fluid into it, okay? However, I was totally unaware she put me under such a small microscope.
Now, I was well aware of the photo of me in the red hat, alright? But the other two…Oh, my…What I’ve been doing in the dark has caught up and showing my backside. All praises to my parents’ DNA for a firm derriere and Burlington Coat Factory for that fantastic sale on Black Friday. You feel me? I have never snatched anything out of anyone’s hands so fast. While I suffered a slight abrasion to the head, it was so well worth it, don’t you think, people?
Rewind this back to my own paparazzi, if you will. Aren’t you past tired and curious as to why Alec Baldwin is constantly harassed by them? Well, word on the streets is that he’s calling them. Alec, I used to be so crazy about you. The way you’ve been carrying on, I’m starting to wonder if I was crazy to entertain such a crush. Maybe this temper you have turns the little wifey on but the viewers are going to turn you off if you don’t start taking your meds, Booboo. You’re so ridiculous, Alec and well…look at those photos of me. I look too fine and luscious to be talking about your silly antics.
As for these photos, Totsy blackmailed me and I’m now under the gun of exploitation, which is a typical element of the Hollywood trade, right Chris Jenner? From one business woman to another, I respect that particular skill you have on some level but I am so ready for your family to get off the air. All of you have gotten on my nerves, so it’s time for you to go, okay? Please. I’d say I’ll give you five dollars to go away but I know you’d take it and money’s tight right now. And oh, Bruce, don’t have your Adam’s apple shaven. You’re already looking like the girls. Albeit, an old girl but if you follow through on that procedure, Chris is going to botox and pimp you too. You feel me?
Anyway, I’m committed to flaunting my fabulousness at an undisclosed location. I’m booked and, as you well know, forever hooked on the grapevine of Hollywood. If the pay is good, I’ll put you and your hood on blast too, baby.
Forever and Always,
Beatrice from Apartment 7B aka Queen of the Scoop
Good day, people. I’m wrapping up my time on the beach on the Georgia coast. Glory to my fabulousness but I had to bless spectators and haters with one last look before the summer heads completely south. I am the definition of Diva and can’t help myself. Okay? As I lie here looking oh so beautiful, I’m sipping on a tall glass of Hollywood juice and my insides are so utterly full, I just have to spill it. Hello?
As you perhaps know by now, Miley, as in Virus Cyrus (VC), has been dumped, kicked to the curb and recycled into the singles market. As we’re no longer in the Garden of Eden, the Now Ex didn’t take too well to all that nakedness and us knowing her in such a fashion. I do believe she’s sealed that oversized tongue in her mouth at this current time, haven’t you VC? But your daddy’s so very proud of you and I wish all of you happy therapy sessions in the future because you’re not trying to hear it now, are you girl? Well, strip it until you rip it and do you until you get a clue that thick is in and you’re too thin to be taking your clothes off before the public. We’re not hardly that desperate to see skin. Okay? You need to come down south and eat a good meal or two. Alright? And bring the president with you because he’s looking rather thin these days.
Rumor has it that Now Ex was cheating but what’s the biggy, really? Miley was openly cheating with the public with all that gyrating on stage. I know I supported you initially, Miley but I get tired of people on the swift and you’re on the list, sweetie. And before I take a break from you, I do hope you’re on the organ donor’s list because I’m real sure somebody could put that tongue to better use. Did I mention I was tired of you, Miley?
People, as I lie my beautifulness here and continue to bless the public, I want you to know that I’m in mourning over the separation of Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones. Catherine, I think you’re beautiful and I wish you and Michael the best for the rest of your lives. I never thought people divorced at 60-plus but it happens. I know the papers haven’t been filed but well…Umph, umph umph…(Sniff, sniff)
Kimye, as in Kim and Kanye. I must admit, you two made yourselves a beautiful baby. However, I feel terribly sorry for you, Kim. Your baby’s daddy is a nut who likes to cut up in public. To put it more accurately, ‘cut a fool’ as Totsy would say. Not even you deserve that and especially not your daughter. Be blessed, you and North West, and know which way is up because when Kanye sees the paparazzi, you and North will need to know when to duck. Okay?
As always, it’s been a pleasure. I want to thank my congregation of bloggers for reading me. Lord have mercy on all those who aren’t nearly as fabulous as me. Amen.
Beatrice from Apartment 7B
Hello, people. No applause, please. I am just returning from the state of madness, namely the VMA Awards, where Miley, according to some, made the devil smile. The wild child star turned superstar has blossomed into a thorn and basking like never before in the limelight. While I was sitting in the $5.00 seats with regular people, I was changing lives as they broke their necks trying to see how divalicious I looked. VMA finally had to put the LAPD on standby because it was bumper to bumper trying to see all this fabulousness in one take. Okay?
Now, back to Miley. I say whatever’s clever. It’s your life and you’ve been trying to prove it to the public on so many levels, I don’t think you’re as free as you think you are. However, if Madonna’s doing it at 60, 20 is even better. Alright? I really don’t know what to tell you or the people who are so disappointed that you traded your role model robe for a bikini and red lipstick.
Don’t hold your mouth agape, people. Live your life and let Miley’s play out however it may. Don’t raise your children in front of the TV and allow them to find their identities in people they most likely will never meet. It’s your own fault you’re disappointed. You really shouldn’t raise your children to look up to anything human. We all disappoint and, as my pastor at Saint Philips Holy Trinity of Light Tabernacle of Faith says…Where was I?…Oh, yes, we all entertain Michael on occasion. We fall short and backwards, as Totsy did recently, doing whatever we think feels good.
I have, Miley, in the meantime, taken a poll on certain places where botox may suit you the next time you prance it around stage.
Love and Kisses,
Hello, lovelies. As you can see, I’m on the set of The View and you can also see that I’ve taken the seat of the Head Huncho. Move on Barbs, The Beatrice is in the house. That’s right, I can fill your shoes and take over this joint if necessary.
People, I hope you’re View watchers because I get to have my say come the fall season, when Elizabeth, Joy and Barbara are long gone. I’ll be so glad when they make their final exit. Must I tell you…Of course, I must…that Elizabeth and Whoopi don’t get along. You see, the kitchen is too hot with Whoopi in there and Elizabeth can’t stand it, so she’s headed over to that network of opinionated journalists called Fox News, following in the footsteps of none other than Sarah Palin. You remember her, right? The one who ripped off her state and got a deal with Fox to rant and rave about what she reads in ALL the news magazines. Sarah, you must be exhausted, Sweetie. As for you Elizabeth, I say, go on. I won’t miss you and I’m sure Whoopi will be pleasantly pleased to see the back of you. And one last thing, Sugar. I hope you don’t get it in your mind to run for president. Though it would be quite farcical to see you and Sarah on the same ticket. You both are arrogant enough to do something so idiotic, I wouldn’t be surprised at all.
And Chris - I’m talking Jenner style – What in the world are you doing with a talk show, Hon? Why on earth do you have a new platform to continue talking about absolutely nothing? You are a silly woman. I can’t be too mad at you though because you are raking in the dough. If I were given a venue to be superficial, I’d most definitely play that up to the fullest and enjoy the ching-ching in my bank account too, girlfriend. You do that.
Well, View ladies, and Whoopi, it’s been nice chatting it up with you. I’m sorry you didn’t get an opportunity to talk. Personally, I think there are too many of you on the show anyway. It should be called The Views of Beatrice. Though, since nothing has been finalized, in the interim, I’d settle for Shut Up, Elizabeth.
Yours Dearly & Truly,
Beatrice from Apt. 7B
Hello, darlings. Beatrice is back and looking as fine as I am fabulous. I don’t have to tell you that, however. Make note people, I shall be the new trophy at George Clooney’s side in due time. Don’t hate or do a double-take because it’s high time he ceased locking lips with stick figures, okay? In the meantime, I’m having an affair with life and down at Kim Soo’s getting a pedicure and bikini wax. Please, don’t go green-eyed on me, though you may want to write a letter to your bathing suit manufacturer in China and blame them for you not looking as hot as me, okay? DEFECT!
I want to send a special shout of thanks to all of those sponsors who dropped Paula Deen. You shall be blessed with an autographed copy of me in a two-piece. Do keep it well hidden from the little wifeys who will, no doubt, be fetching a tall glass of Hatorade as soon as they lay eyes on all this fabulousness.
What is the Hollywood scoop today? Me! I am too cute and luscious for the likes of Hollywood today. I’m on my way to Paris to meet my nouveau beau, Jacques Etienne Savoire. I shall ponder if I’ll share the details of our rendezvous. Oui, oui mon ami. What happens in Paris may very well stay in Paris. You feel me? Besides, there’s no telling how this encounter may turn out. I met him on the Internet and his name may be Bob Sandwichead. Me being the meat, okay? But who in their right or wrong mind passes up a private jet to the city of love? I may at least send you a rear view photo of our hands in each other’s back pockets. If he’s not as cute as moi, you will definitely get a shot from the rear, okay?
Glory to the friendly skies and that big fine plane where I shall enjoy bonbons. George will have to wait until I return to see if I still have even a vague interest in pursuing him. After this ride Georgie, The Beatrice may not be into men without their own 747.
Beatrice Got Back
Totsy has decided to lay low, while I rise to fame. Get behind thee, Denzel and feel the breeze as I pass through but not too far, Baby. I really don’t mind a slight brush against the rear, okay?
I am loving myself today, people. Love is in the air, somewhere and so is racism. Isn’t that right, Paula? That’s Missus Dean, if you’re nasty and have a fluency in throwing racial epithets. You haven’t disappointed me, as I’ve been watching you closely before these revealing events came to Hollywood light. My southern queen of butter and heart attack food, I hope you’re held to the fire and burn on the witness stand. I hope the mirror that’s being held to you cracks and sends you to settle on your porch swing with knitting needles as you assess yourself. There’s nothing worse than getting caught and put on public blast for being yourself, is there Paula?
As for you, Melissa Etheridge, I want you to take back what you said about Angelina being a coward for undergoing a double mastectomy. No, that’s not the word you used but it boils down to the same thing. What I’d like to know is what does her decision about her body have to do with you? What makes you the queen of decision-making for women who may or not get breast cancer? I need you to take a back seat, put duct tape on it and mind your business. Stop judging Ms. Jolie based on what you decided to do with your body. We have enough of that going on in Washington, okay? Don’t make me get controversial on this blog. I’m here to flaunt my glory and here you are getting me into the neck-rolling business.
And last but not least, Oprah. I’m going to need you to cancel those Tyler Perry shows on your network. Yes, you’ve got serious programming issues, with enough self-help episodes to drive a person to eventually slit their wrist, but I really need you to pull the plug, rug or whatever. I’m just not feeling it…Ooh! Was that you, Denzel?
It’s a beautiful day in Beatricehood and I’m enjoying this cool, spring evening, doing what I love. That’s right. Chewing the absolute fat. Okay? I’ve only two scoops for you today, people. I must make my presence and the juicyness of Hollywood known, while keeping my C&S status. That simply means cute and sexy, people. Stay abreast of the lingo and you’ll live a long and diva-filled life.
Now, I know a lot of you don’t care for Kim Kardashian. I need you to start, okay? Word coming through the vine is Kanye, her future baby daddy, is spending waaaaay too much time in Paris. You well know it’s the city for lovers. Kimmy is in the U.S. and not getting her bell rung. Meanwhile, Kanye, people (and Kim, if you’re listening), is spending a great deal of time there while she’s miserably pregnant. I do feel terrible for the baby but she/he will be able to buy all the help needed to fix whatever problems he/she may have. I know. It sounds unkind but the hard truth is rarely pleasant. Kanye is involved, Kim. I won’t go any further on who because I’m not insured but be assured, my little porn princess, life will go on and your fans will watch it all as your world keeps turning. You need to call me, girl. But on a You-Go-Girl tip, I like how you turned that sex tape into a money machine. I had something quite similar happen to me before my career took off as a National Hollywood Gossip Correspondent. There are still bootleg DVDs circulating downtown but I was wearing a wig and in full costume. Nobody knows it was me. I’m a church-going woman and I can’t have any leaks of that nature. I practically run the church, if I do say so myself.
And Justin to the Bieber. What’s going on with you, son? If the fame is too much, go sit down somewhere and read a book, honey. It works for some of these kids out here who aren’t beating on photographers. You need to be turned over somebody’s knee. You can’t hit at the papparazzi. They’re doing their job and you have to respect that, Sweetie. That’s one of the prices of fame. Why, just the other day, I was coming out of the restroom at the local IHOP and the hem of my skirt was tucked in my panties. Unfortunately, I was wearing some that day. There were no cameras to take any shots but it would’ve been well worth it than get laughed at by a bunch of nobodys. Take your pick, J. Would you rather be hounded by lights and cameras or get pictures taken under circumstances I found myself in? It’s not a rock and a hard place for me to choose.
I must leave you now, people. I have a busy weekend being fabulous. You do the same.
Signed: Your National Hollywood Gossip Correspondent in the raw,
Beatrice from Apt. 7B
It’s a beautiful day to be alive and gossiping, people. I have so much scoop for you today, I could darn near choke. Somebody get behind thee and give me the Heimlich Manuever. Preferrably Harry Connick, Jr. Hello?
Let me jump right into this because Ms. Gwenyth, Paltrow, that is, I know you’ve been nervously awaiting to hear my take on you being named the most beautiful woman in the world. What a backlash. Basically, your photo has been nailed to the public wall and filled with darts and bird poop. I wouldn’t want to be you right now, even with that sweet bank account. Don’t you worry your pampered self over this at all, however. Damn if you aren’t and damn if you are the most beautiful woman in the world. Who gets to cry over that every day? That’s part of the Hollywood territory, and horror story, in your case. At least your name’s not Kim Kardashian.
And Reese Witherspoon. You were more than a notion in my neck of the woods and I simply can’t appreciate that. I think you’re one of the smartest It girls in Hollywood and you played the celebrity card while intoxicated, which leads me to think that what you said to that officer, who lays his life on the line on a daily basis, was not better than you in no shape, form or fashion. I need to re-think my relationship with you because what’s in comes out and for now, I’ve seen just about enough.
The big story of this gossiping hour is Ann Curry from the Today Show. She is singing to her friends like a battered bird and Matt Lauer is flying like a bat from the show when his contract is over next year.
Look, rich people. I truly, honest to God, stamp-my-foot-three-times-to-give-a-shout-out-to-the-Almighty-with-a-tambourine-shaking-in-my-left-hand, wish I had your problem. Ann, stop crying. You messed up sometimes. I lied in bed eating strawberries with whipped cream from the night before, watching you faithfully. Mistakes happen. You made many of them and I’m not mad at you for it. Nor do I feel sorry because you are sitting on a cool 10 mil for each year left on your contract. Yes, it was quite humiliating to get laughed at and booted out so publicly but the average person isn’t so lucky to get kicked to the curb in such a fashion. Will you even draw unemployment and fear that it’ll run out? I mean, come on, Ann.
As for you, Matt. I do believe, and it’s just my personal opinion, that you are sexy in a subtle and unassuming way. You look innocent but come on, my ole Boo. I know you aren’t. You couldn’t stand Ann, didn’t want her sitting on the couch next to you and that’s the way it is on the job sometimes. I can most certainly relate. Before my gossip business took off, while I was still working at the phone company, which got me started with dipping in everybody’s kool-ade, I could not stand a handful of people I worked with either. They were always trying to be in my business and not get paid for it, which makes absolutely no sense to me. Now, did you bully and shun Ann? Again. You’re not as innocent as you look and if I’m wrong, which I don’t think I am, Karma is going to become your friend in a most invasive way.
Listen to me, rich people. I’m not Olivia Pope, so I’m not interested in fixing your problems but like the business savvy woman I am, I’m all about getting paid for spreading the word, good, bad or indifferent, and at least trying to bring you back to the world of where the real problems are. I highly recommend that each and every one of the aforementioned visit getyourlife.com, get yourself a patch or something.
Honest and Always True,