Airborne has been a personal guilty pleasure of mine since my early college years, back when I met like-minded people who were totally uncritical of any film branded independent, who introduced me to the strange new world of Ska music, and who could recall the glories of Swan's Crossing with the same affection I did.

As a matter of fact, Shane McDermott – who played Garrett Booth, star-crossed lover of then dark haired Sarah Michelle Gellar in that oft-mentioned Brix Pick – takes the lead role of Mitchell Goosen in this movie, which is wholly acted by no one particularly good looking. Don't get me wrong, I love the kid, but I'd only cast him as a date rapist in a Lifetime movie titled something like, “If She Knew What She Wanted” (that's officially my idea now, so I don't want to see you all shopping scripts without due credit).

But don't fret if you've never seen the show, a plethora of non-Swan's Crossing talents abounds as well. Jack Black proves that he wasn't always just some cool dude that stumbled into comedic success as he hones his signature spazzing out before your very eyes and hams up lines like, “I like Nintendo and I like Nintendo” – oh, and he gets a tree in the nards. I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but my friend Brandon can be seen in the double date turned disaster scene – he's the one wearing a patchwork denim jacket and staring straight into the camera.

Stewart Copeland – yes, that Stewart Copeland – is behind the music, though I can't imagine he was 100% responsible for the B-grade Babyface-type song that includes the lyrics, “I'll pick you up in my per-son-al limonsine!” which plays during a rollerblading greenhouse scene… and I know he wasn't behind Right Said Fred's 'I'm Too Sexy' montage of Seth Green trying on various outfits for a date, looking, I'm sad to say, a lot like a ventriloquist's dummy in all of them. Yep, Seth Green is here too, sporting a haircut and circular rose-tinted glasses that make him look like a lesbian friend on Ann Magnuson's, circa 1989. As always, he's totally boss as a goof ball best buddy.

The plot's a familiar one and we've all been there: you're a Ghandi-loving California surfer who tells his rollerblades 'gracias' at the end of the day and you come home to find your parents packed off to Australia forcing you to head to freezing Cincinnati, a sad, sad place where no one understands your enlightened Zen attitude and everyone plays hockey.

Ok, so maybe it didn't happen to you – but it happened to me… vicariously. In eighth grade we got our very own Mitch Goosen when Ryan Lokken, a?blonde California surfer dude enrolled in our class and (I swear) handed out wallet-sized portraits of his surf crew to all the ladies. But, unlike the Ohian high school in Airborne, we didn't have any forty-year-old bullies out for Ryan's blood.

But if your school did have bullies, cast as forty year olds or not, you might savor the moment when Mitch tells his, “I could give two left testicles about you, your school or you hockey game!” There's also some sweet afternoon movie romance with tapered jean dream named Nikki who, while only being Sarah Powell hot (from Charles in Charge), still manages to look pretty great next to the other slags.

It's a rare and wholesome treat (and, I might add, a nice companion piece to former guilty pleasure Heavyweights), the kind of movie where the big finale takes place at dun, dun, dun… The Devil's Backbone! “Only the most dangerous hill in the whole town!”

By the way,?watch it now on Netflix on demand because the DVD, according to super irate Amazon customers, is only available in German.

Shania basically represents everything that I find unholy about the direction of modern country music. I like my pop music in my pop music but when it comes to twangy heartbreak I like it old timey Loretta Lynn style and nearly faint with grouchiness at the thought of modern country.

Still, there's no point in denying that her big haired first big hit just gets me right in the gut and before I know it, I'm singing it all day long to the frustration of those around me.

In the video she's a tarty waitress who spends more time flirting with the town's sons, dads, and grandpas in a totally inappropriate work dress. On the cover of the single, wow, she seems to have taken some cues from Silk Stalkings and gone double breasted and somehow, inexplicably jump suit at the same time. This is pretty much a poster child for how the latest trend can go horribly wrong. Just look at the length of that crotch.

The song was written together with her then husband Mutt Lange who is legendary in the business for his hit making producing of AC/DC, Def Leppard, and Foreigner.

Mr Alec Baldwin has several strikes against him and his involvement in movies like Along Came Polly and the abomination that was Cat in the Hat are the least of them. He once joked about killing wives and children on national TV and then there's that phone call?But the worst flaw is that he is a Baldwin at all.

Having a crush on him is like mooning over a member of the bad news clan of crystal meth making, dirty town weirdos that had lice (see the likes of The Little Friend, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, and The Bumpeses from the work of Jean Shepard). Even if you have a crush on the one that did finish grade school, you're still tainted by the longings you can't deny for a member of the disgraceful family.

Stephen's latest ventures, if I may call them that, even overshadow an outburst of “little pigs” but I, shamed to say, could ignore all Alec's shortcomings solely based on his phenomenal turn as Jack Donaghy on 30 Rock. Let's just say that in my opinion, the mentoring upper class executive never left the bubble.

For those of you who have inexplicably still decided to ignore the funniest show currently airing on television, for further proof that my crush is justified I'll point you to his powerful man in a suit performance in Glengarry Glen Ross, and a gentler, more glasses and checkered shirts type of guy role in Beetlejuice. You can also become converted to my way of the hairy chest in (what was strangely an absolute favorite movie of mine as a pre teen) Married to the Mob.

No one really knows why the ostentatious strangeness that is Sally Kirkland and her ever changing whirlwind of bizarre red carpet fashion is famous. Well, I do (it's a single movie called Anna and wealthy parents and the dubious distinction of being the first nude performer on the legitimate theater). Still, that doesn't seem enough does it to warrant an almost never ending extended invitation to any red carpet event?

Except, maybe the lords of invitation giving feel the same way I do about big breezy blonds that are clearly kind of crazy – I love them! Just look at her life as the rich and famous where she explains the half of her that isn't a fame seeking monster, the half that enjoys basking in the glory of unearned money with a fire roaring and creating?Nagel inspired marker art (she calls it “paint”). Continue watching and she leaps into a “pizazz”-y sequin, leather, and batik fashion show before explaining her nervous break down in the sixties and teaching kids to act.

She's appeared on Go Fug Yourself, but not as often as one would think. I believe even they have an appreciation for her lunacy. And besides she spends lots of her time as a health activist and was the god daughter of one of my all time loudmouth dames and talents, Shelley Winters, which gives her points in my book.

Look I may not be the skinniest miniest in the room but I'm no orca and to be honest, it's kind of amazing considering the stuff I used to eat. Dunkin Donuts features these tasty treats called Kremes : take one powdered sugar donut and stuff it full of really, really sugary icing. I used to eat two, count them two of these for breakfast as a teen. Good lord..

I decided, despite the possibly hairy eyeballs from kids who thought I was betraying my beloved Peter Pan Bakery, (recently endorsed by Liz Lemon) to head over to the local Dunkin that displaced Greenpoint's only good Thai spot a few years back and try this treat once again. The adorable polish kid who (as I overheard), was nice enough to take Anna's shift yet again, informed me that there was only one left. I am lucky, because according to bloggers, some states have discontinued the vanilla kreme indefinitely.

Apparently a three hundred and forty calorie breakfast bound to give you cavities is a local favorite. It wasn't quite as stuffed with icing as I had remembered as a kid, I blame the economy and Dunkin cutting corners, but despite a cry of protest from my tummy, I have to say, it was still good in a very, very guilty way.

Everyone has a bachelor/ette story to tell. There was the time my sister disappeared from her own party leaving myself and friends in various states of unease as oiled men humped up. Stacy woke the next morning to find baby powder and grease ball sack stains on her Gucci skirt. Or my friend Laura who found a pack of dancers a bit too over zealous as they grabbed guests ankles over their heads and began going to town with their groins. A less stripper based story involves the groom vomiting all over the restaurant dinner table.

By far though, the most disturbing tale comes from my good friend Mike who was witness to Toni's Angels, a NY based “company” that has scarred he and everyone who's heard the story for life. It's way too dirty to detail here, but let's just say it all began with the ladies laying down a tarp. Beer bottles, a homemade song called “Eatin' Pussy” and a groom with an issue with germs followed.

There are many mysteries surrounding New Hampshire's favorite roadside attraction, “America's Stonehenge“.?Is it as their many brochure's found all over New England rest stops will lead you to believe? Even the owners themselves don't want to use strong words to describe what it is and what it isn't.?In fact, this is the wording on their website: “America's Stonehenge is most likely the oldest man-made construction in the United States (over 4000 years old)”.?

“Is most likely!” Whoa! you have me sold! 4000 year old ruins maybe made by the same Celtic druids that once built England's Stonehenge! I'm there!?Or wait, maybe there were built by the vikings.. well OK, that's still interesting.?Err wait, no maybe they were built by the Native Americans… oh, you don't see that everyday, i'm still down.?Umm OK OK, maybe its the rules of a 1890's farm house and the sacrificial alter is just where they made soap, not killed people… but did I mention we have Alpacas?

WHAT??? Award winning alpacas.?And although these adorable south American animals have nothing to do with the actual “attraction” there (what ever that is) they are a reason to stop by.?In fact they sell them, and their wool, and magnets with their pictures on them.?I mean what else is there to do in southern New Hampshire but pay 4 bucks to enter a classic American roadside attraction stuck in the middle of the suburbs and pet their alpacas. Oh yeah and buy crystals and new age books at their gift shop. In the end, it's 4 dollars well spent.?Even if you still leave scratching your head asking what the hell was that.

Perhaps you remember a little late night (crime time after prime time to be specfic) guilty pleasure called Silk Stalkings? My mom and I used to watch it all the time and I thought a revisit to the 1991 tight shirts and shoulder pads series might be in order for this week's blog. When the intro sequence began with it's stock photography images of romance novel meets Florida violence, Jim and I settled into some prime early nineties nostalgia.

The show stars, a woman named Mitzi Kapture (seriously) as street tough cop Rita Lee Lance aka “Sam” and the man with the best agent in Hollywood (next to the king of infinite chances, Steven Weber) Rob Estes as Chris Lorenzo aka “Sam” as well. Estes will spend a career familiar with guilty pleasures. he was on Melrose Place before he entertained Jim and I in the wee hours of underemployment in Suddenly Susan and recently starred in Jim's dearly department Women's Murder Club before picking up a role in the new 90210. Kapture's career, though has been less visible.

Looking like a Fashion Bug hooker with a Fredrick's of Hollywood face, Kapture captures the shows essence of surreal neo noir with her nonsensical narration, consisting almost entirely of golf metaphors that make one feel uncomfortable – as if you're left alone nodding and grinning to a crazy woman stuck inside her head trying to talk to you about country club golf versus?other kinds of golf as a metaphor for murder.?/p>

Always rocking mini skirts, double breasted jackets in long dead colors and scrunchies, her character is tough and willing to push the boundaries of police work. If I wrote a script I'd have her say “Ok, I got the bra top on, what do you need me to do with it”. The answer to that question more often than not is to trick a suspect (one with the stunning TV name “Gator Ramsey”) into a potentially dangerous sexual situation with an overplayed Southern accent.

Estes plays her best friend and partner, a more vulnerable guy who always there for a woman and need, particularly if they need a man decked out in Z Cavaricci's most flamboyant threads to stare at them with eyes of a vapid Ken doll. There policing might need work – they often gather evidence without gloves and break and enter constantly, but I have to admit, they have a charming chemistry that helps keep the show fun despite weird attempts at gravitas (she has an inoperable aneurysm that could kill her at any moment and major daddy issues).

While the cast is special, the other special component to the shows success is it's audacious stylized sets. Whether imagining a piano lounge, a Dominatrix's apartment, a police department, they manage to build a world straight out of a Duran Duran video and beyond. The art direction is so wild, the police chief even rails against it in one of the first scenes. Pillars and neon lights have become common enough (CSI might have taken their cues of darkened police offices from here) and even head scratching sets like a basement sex dungeon and the hot pink psychedelia of a swingers club called Nightmare Cafe can be accepted, but some choices are so mind blowing that I am left in awe.

Like the one time shot of two police dispatchers who apparently work in a submarine, or the police station mural, that at first in previously scenes looks like a painting of a screen saver but is actually of a jazz man holding the hand of a child's ghost. Do I need to repeat that – it's a painting of a jazz man holding the hand of a child's ghost. Why would you add the effect of painting the Palm Beach sky hot pink? Or add some maroon organza bows to the coroner's office? The art directors here ask why not? And it's that attitude that created a hit show that lasted, can you believe it, eight seasons for everyone that wants brainless, sexed up guilty pleasure fun.

FYI, mom the early seasons are on DVD and available through netflix.

Michelle's house was always to funnest to stay for sleepovers in junior high and high school, her little terrier Mikey coming down to smell our breathe in the morning aside, it was a teenage dream. The basement was all ours and it had a pool table and sleeping bags, the boys we allowed to occasionally hang out with us lived nearby and we always ate at least one bowl of cake batter a night.

The icing on the cake, almost literally was in the morning when we were allowed to prepare waffles with mint chocolate chip ice cream for breakfast.

Jim and I indulged in this decadent breakfast today and it made me feel less of an adult, ready to go to the mall and check out boys.