I know it seems like I pick on Pam Anderson all the time, or you know, one other time, but I saw her on Joy Behar last night, and she said it'd be nice to be a Bond Girl.
Pam. Honey. You were a Playmate of the Year TWENTY YEARS AGO. TWENTY. You may be using Gold Bond Medicated Powder. You are not going to be a Bond Girl.
A Bond Girl. You could be a Golden Girl if they do a remake. I mean, she is my age. What world is she living in? It irritates me that she has no grip on reality.
And she looks great! You know, for someone who is 82. She really looks wonderful.
I know it seems like I don't like her, and in fact when it comes to celebrities, I kind of do. I really do think she is still pretty, and believe it or not, if you look at photos of her from 20 years ago it would appear that other than breast augmentation, she has not ruined herself with plastic surgery. Honest. Go look. Okay fine, I will show you.
Here she is on Baywatch in the '90s, where she apparently thinks time has stood still.
I just think she sees herself as, you know, 22, when GIRL, YOU ARE MIDDLE-AGED. LET ME BE THE FIRST TO TELL YOU.
Because I am certain she checks in with Bye Bye, Pie on a regular basis.
A Bond Girl. I am irritated. Now watch. In six months we'll read that she is the next Bond Girl.
And while we're on this deep topic, I do have one confidential note to my super-intellectual, extra-hoity-toity Real Housewives of New York pals:
If I had legs as good as Kelly, I would wear dresses that short all the time. I know I continue to be the only person in America who likes Kelly. Other than Kelly.
I know many people did not understand the paragraph above. It's okay. You have to be a razor-sharp intellectual to really get The Real Housewives of New York. Don't beat yourself up about it. Go listen to NPR or something.
A Bond Girl. Oh, that chaps my hide.