As the editor in chief of magazines like Us Weekly, Marie Claire, Cosmopolitan, and Glamour, Bonnie Fuller's genius (as it was referred to in magazine circles) always lay in the fact that she was always spiritually closer to her reader than to the so-called Manhattan media elite. Not only were celebrities "just like us," but Bonnie was just like you.

At her last job – overseeing Star magazine at American Media – the jig was up, probably because by then, everyone had already copied her formula, and because the Internet was starting to kill the celebrity weeklies' buzz.

Now, Mail.com's Jay Penske is betting that the woman who has trouble fitting her tweets into 140 characters (and famously used to avoid her computer and email altogether) gets this Web stuff.

Exhibit A: The site has sufficient confidence in Bonnie Fuller as a brand name outside of the media crowd to scrawl her name across the top.

Exhibit B, from the official press release:

"While the new digital stylings of HollywoodLife.com offer unprecedented opportunity for readers to take part in the news and reviews, the site's feminine bling will come from Ms. Fuller's editorial presence.
…
"HollywoodLife.com is much more than just a next step in my career", says Ms. Fuller. "Rather, it's the next step in my relationship with the female audience. The site's interactive nature allows for a more immediate, emotional connection between readers and myself. It's a place that offers the right mix of news and opinion where women can express themselves and ask their own questions."

They've got a point: no matter how many perky exclamation points print glossies add to their headlines to make them seem even more informal and girlfriend-like, it's still a one-way form of address. And that lofty platform was, more often than not in the case of the magazines Fuller edited, used as a way to exploit and create female insecurity about bodies, clothes, relationships, and so on. These days, the Internet can offer an entirely different way to talk about whatever women want to talk about.

On Day 1, the new "conversation" seems to be mostly between the headline writers and various celebrities.

Although the "Hollyscopes" section does want to you, the reader, to be in on the fun. Quite desperately so, actually.

So far, the site is sticking to a relatively proven formula of red carpet chatter, the stars of Twilight, and click-to-buy beauty. Diets and relationship advice are so far mercifully absent, as is bodysnarking. But what's the conversation here besides commenting?

Oh. That.

Hollywood Life

Related: Shooting Britney [The Atlantic]

Earlier: Do We Need Women's Blogs?

But yeah. Last night I dreamed about pooping: Specifically, that I was in a restaurant someplace downtown and left the table, urged by my bowels. The public restroom was shockingly filthy, and the stalls had no doors, but I had to go. I squatted and let loose; crapping for what felt like forty minutes. People — including random dudes — came and went. I could not stop the excrement.

According to John Tierney of the Times, research shows that people tend to attach significance to a dream if it is about something or someone they like. Negative dreams get brushed off as "just a dream." That's why if you dream about taking a year off to travel, you probably think your dreams are telling you something. If you dream about spending a year in a leper colony? Not so much.

Doctors are still studying dreams, however, and Tierney links to a dream survey designed by researchers at Harvard University. The survey asks participants to describe recent dreams, and questions include "How likely is it that the events you dreamt of will occur in the future?" and "In general, do you believe that dreams can foretell the future?" Tierney writes, "Dr. Morewedge and Dr. Norton have have promised to give Lab readers a report of the results." So of course I wrote about my crappy dream. But there wasn't an opportunity to tell the docs that when I woke up, I pooped. And it felt great.

What Do Dreams Mean? Whatever Your Bias Says, Any Dreams to Report? [NY Times]
Earlier: Pooping: The New Hot Shit

[Image via AllPosters.com.]

For those of you fortunate enough to have been spared it, ABC's True Beauty is the new steaming pile of manure from the production companies of Tyra Banks and Ashton Kutcher, a reality program that tricks a bunch of bimbos into thinking they're competing for the title of "Most Beautiful Person In America" while in fact showing that beauty is only skin-deep.

Well, sort of. See, the bimbos assemble (they're not really worth breaking down; they all look similar and talk a lot about how attractive they are, you know the drill) in a fancy house and do 'beauty challenges' while all the while being judged for how they react to plants like overburdened waiters or people collecting money for charity. But the thing is, they're still being judged on their beauty. In the first episode, contestants visited a "scientific beauty expert" who determined their objective beauty by a series of Nazi-like measurements, comparing them to "ideal" charts and ratios. Think this is some kind of sick trick? Oh, no. See, the two "losers" of this challenge (ie, those whose features are the least symmetrical or perfect or something) are the ones who are up for elimination.

At this point, the judges — a grieved Cheryl Tiegs, a stern Vanessa Minnillo and a smirking Nolé — look at how the two losers did on the "inner beauty" challenge, and the one who failed to put change in a cup, or open a door or something, gets eliminated. Because, you see, he's ugly both inside and outside! On last night's episode, the second of the series, contestants were judged on outfits they put together (it seriously doesn't bear getting into). One chick got the axe because she failed to help a planted bike rider who took a spill in front of her. (Oh, and because her outfit "wasn't fresh.")

The premise is, to say the least, flawed. It's also offensive, stupid, incoherent, boring, lacking in suspense, and with no payoff whatsoever. Watching idiots preen is bad enough; watching them be humiliated in contrived situations by self-righteous judges who apparently don't understand their own clichés is worse. As my friend said, "this show has Ashton's incoherence and Tyra's inability to make a point. And they don't even have the excuse of a writer's strike."

Last year, when you and Professor Griff were interviewed by Tavis Smiley, you discussed Flav's reality TV personality and said:

You know what it is; we boil it down to us. It's like, it's that every Black family always got that one person. And even when White folks say it in America, I say, "Oh, you done forgot that there was Billy Carter, huh?"

Flavor drew all of those people that we could never reach. So he drew them to us and we got a chance to at least interact with them, to raise a conscious level.

xoxo,
T

Entitlement
Really. We're in a "relationship" now? Isn't that a little presumptuous? You know I'm just "settling" on my current husband...how exactly? Are you aware of the world outside your own cocoon of baffling self-assurance? You sent that eleventh text message without reply because you're so very certain I will finally succumb to your charms...based on what? You're unattractive, unemployed and uncharming and yet you tell everyone I'm your type because...women like me have managed to see virtue in you in the past? Why must you assume I am desperate? And why must you assume that I fucked you before, therefore I will fuck you now? Why must you assume that I ever really wanted to fuck you to begin with? That you weren't just a pity fuck in the first place? Did I even attempt to fake an orgasm? Were you even paying attention? Wait, hold on a second, I don't get mad often, so when I fucking get mad, will you fucking look at me when I'm talking to you? Oh my God, are you checking that girl out? Seriously? Which brings me to...

Wandering Eye (Related: the "No Club That Would Have Me As A Member" Club)
You think there's something hotter/smarter/prettier/cooler around the corner. Guess what? THERE IS. ALWAYS. IT WILL NEVER END. SEVEN BILLION PEOPLE, GUYS. You can't fuck all of them. And why the fuck should they fuck you?

'Bros Before Hoes'-ism
You know what females are sick of? Loyalty. Fuck it, you know? We have enough. We don't need it from men. We're strong. Why would we need you to stick up for us ever? Especially our male friends, when they set us up with their male friends and something goes wrong. It's cool to be a leper sometimes, it's like we get to experience apartheid. But like, did it ever occur to you that the guy who coined that phrase, "Bros before hoes," did so because he never got laid?

Compartmentalization
Hey baby, will you tell me that story about how you came in that girl's face that night while shouting our her best friend's name, just to fuck with her? It's cool, because I know you would never do a thing like that to me because our relationship is totally different and you actually view me as more than just, as you so charmingly put it, a "cum dumpster." I feel really special that you made that leap with me.

Delusions of Grandeur
I dated a guy once who, I shit you not, had a two-sided To-do list pinned to his bulletin board. Facing up, we had some mundane reminders — buy a new lamp, exercise more — but if you turned it over, there were a few more. "Write sequel to The Prince." Now, see: that guy had been trained. He had ambitions, sure, but he knew better than to wear him on his sleeve in an attempt to make you think they might interfere with your plans to get Indian food.

Testosterone Supremacy (Related: overuse of terms such as "crazy", "PMS", "drama", "aggro"...)
Hey! I know men are better at math and science, but just where is the book that told dudes that estrogen was the driver of all female emotion? And that our hormones not only render all our thoughts and feelings wild and irrational, but that they blind us to any sense of reason that might lead us to screen the grievances we air to men for accuracy, logic and fairness? Because we're completely oblivious to the fact that women are biologically more emotional than men and therefore can never be told enough that we are engaging in "drama" or being "crazy." Unless we do hear that enough, and stifle our instincts and emotions and learn to choose our battles to the point that we actually get a reputation for being "chill," in which case it is an invitation for our dude friends to profess their love for us and chalk it up to our massive repressed numbness when we find ourselves unwilling to reciprocate. (See this sentiment expressed in Crap Email form here.)

Reciprocation
You know what is fair and just and true,
And it ends in -ilingus if we've gone down on you.

Related: Why Can't You Resist This Woman? [Details]

Earlier: Why Must All Dudes 'Always Be Closing'?
Boys Who Use The Word "Drama": An Investigation

Pluck facial hair! Even Don does this alone. Huh?

The big runner-up for dudes was picking the nose. For girls it was, perhaps unsurprisingly, tampon related. Most of us will insert a tampon in the presence of others, but not pull out. Unless you're having sex. In which case it's kind of awesome and dirty if he pulls it out, though only commensurately with how gross and dirty it is if you can't find it in the morning and then one day, say, you spot it in the corner just as the cable guy shows up in your room.

Things A Man Should Never Do In The Company Of A Woman [MSN]