I want you all to bear with me while I suffer a mini flip-out. Ohmygod! P-Run wunderkind Christian Siriano is designing costumes for the big screen adaptation of Eloise in Paris! Prettiness and joy! Happy frilly darling cute lovely smiles and puppies and sunshine and cupcakes! Ok I'm done. Wanna make something of it?

Noooooooooooooooooo! My very favorite Armenian giantess Khloe Kardashian is going to jail! Apparently KK violated parole for a DUI from a few years back and the mean old judge threw the book at her! I hope her sentence falls in to the Nicole Richie space-time continuum, which would mean that she'd be in jail for a total of about twelve minutes.

I'm trying to look on the bright side of things and see this as wake-up call Hollywood (or at least a producer at E!) needs to give Khloe her own reality show and/or barely fictionalized lady prison movie. The youngest Kardashian girl is the runaway star of the otherwise kind of stupid Keeping Up With The Kardashians. She's feisty ('member the time she started a fight the guy at the car dealership?) and independent (instead of letting her sisters set her up on a blind date, she goes out partying with her girlfriends) and totally hilarious (when she suggests that Kim get her boyfriend Reggie a leopard for their anniversary, when she refers to Bruce Jenner's wang as a "sau-seeej"). This is a woman who's time has come. Kim might have the booty, but Khloe has the brains, and when gravity fails, what would you rather be watching on your HDTV?

Ohhh y'all! Project Runway season five premieres tomorrow on Bravo! I don't even know if I'm ready yet! Like, really. After watching some of the clips we have up on TWOP featuring the new cast, I can't help but think this season's hopefuls are a little . . . bland. Like how the majority of them answer the question "Who's the best-dressed person on TV?" with the brown-nosiest reply ever: "Heidi!" And cop to "guilty pleasures" involving, um, watching Top Chef. As Mindy points out, "that's not a guilty pleasure, 'tardos." That's called damned fine television. So far my favorite is Kenley because she wears a hat and says she loves the aesthetic of Blair from Gossip Girl and, honestly, reminds me a lot of last season's Kit. Otherwise it's sort of yawnsville as far as I can tell. No Christian Sirianos in this bunch. (See clip below to relive and revel in his greatness.) But I think I'm always reticent to let go of the ghosts of P-Runs past on the eve of a new one... until I start getting sucked in to the drama and it becomes my life again.

I am So. Effing. Excited. For this new show called Queen Bees premiering tonight on The N. It's a reality show that Videogum describes perfectly as a hybrid of Mean Girls and Intervention: seven self-described Queen Bees (or Queen B's for betch, more like) are thrown into a house together and all manner of experts attempt to rehab them and rid them of their diva ways. The B who comes out most changed by the experience gets your standard prize money, which I'm sure she will totally donate to like AmFar or something and not spend on sparkly eyeliner and t-shirts declaring that they are princesses who are going to steal your boyfriend. There is a ten-minute clip up on The N's website and it is ah-may-zing. After I watched it, I simply could not contain my joy. Can I share some thoughts with you, fair readers? Good! I was hoping you'd say that!

Just the other day I was thinking about how the world needs a little more Michael Ian Black, and wham! Providence! Thanks to Videogum, I just found out that MIB is hosting a new, and to my mind hilar-town tv show debuting next week on Comedy Central called Reality Bites Back. (See what they did there?!) The premise is a gaggle of comedians who live in a house and have their lives taped to find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting real. No seriously! Ok fine it's a little more complex than that: ten comedy hopefuls will actually compete in a series of challenges inspired by other reality shows, including Fear Factor (night vision is employed in order to witness contestants revealing intimate secrets about themselves in a dark room, only to discover that their moms are sitting there with them!) and Rock of Love (some sort of shower scene is involved). Ludicrous? Yes. But that's the point, see? It's called irony. Maybe if you lived in Brooklyn you'd have a firmer grasp on that by now. Not so ironic? The prize money: $50K y'all! That can buy an awful lot of pudding.

Watch the ten minute trailer and form your own damned opinion for once. Jeez!

I think it's better for everyone if I just come out and admit that I am a food voyeur. I watch the Food Network like horny teenagers watch porn. Plop me in front of a Barefoot Contessa marathon and I'm rapt for hours on end. So you'll forgive me if I'm inordinately excited about the new lineup of shows that the Most Delicious Channel has announced. According to a press release, the new slew of shows will include:

Have you guys heard? The D-List is the new A-List. Just ask EMMY WINNER Kathy Griffin. Or better yet, ask the fools producing a new Fox reality show called Gimme My Reality Show! in which, um, reality-show D-listers (which in the real world makes them Q-Listers) compete to, um, star in a reality show. It's so meta my head just exploded. A few of the peeps on board thus far are Santino Rice, he of Project Runway Season Two fame and Traci Bingham of Baywatch, which is apparently a reality show (?) now. A panel of judges made up of reality show producers and reality show A-Listers (H-listers in actual fact) will judge contestants on their ability to like, throw a hissy fit and alienate their castmates, presumably. Clearly Santino would make for a killer reality show star. I mean CLEARLY. The man has more fierce bitchy queen shenanigoats stored in his pinky than Traci has in BOTH of her silicon boobs. And I can't imagine anyone else who could even come close to his diva-tude. OR CAN I?

Soooooo . . . what do we think about the forthcoming CW/Tyra Banks production Stylista? I just watched a clip for it and am on the fence. I mean obviously I will be watching it faithfully when it starts airing this fall, if only to bitch about its melodramatic treatment of the hollow, vapid world that is fashion, specifically the Elle Magazine fashion department. But in watching the three-minute trailer, I can't help but have some Major Metropolitan Misgivings. First and foremost, could they bite The Devil Wears Prada premise any more? We all know that TDWP was art imitating life (if the Lauren Weisberger tell-all-turned-movie can be considered "art" in any way, shape or form). And in imitating life, there was ample, broad-stroke hyperbole. But now we're coming full-circle. All the dramatic embellishments that made TDWP enjoyable -- faggy, bitchy fashion people reveling in their shallowness, holier than thou editrixes (sic?) putting peons through the paces with demeaning tasks that had nothing to do with their actual jobs -- are being co-opted for this "reality" show, and it rings incredibly false. It's a Hills-ification of reality -- actual people playing pre-assigned roles. I'm aware this is nothing new -- hello, The Real World -- but never has it been so unapologetically fake.

I can't explain why this irks me so much. It's such a blatant parody of the archetypal magazine internship experience that I should just accept it as such and move on. And yet ... I just want to smack everyone involved -- Tyra, Elle fashion director Anne Slowey, the eleven contestants who will stop at nothing to be Slowey's bitch, supermodel Maggie Rizer for deigning to appear as a guest on such a trainwreck of a show. Perhaps I have rage issues that need addressing.

Not satisfied to exploit every inch of his own being and empire, Donald Trump has resorted to pimping out his daughter Ivanka for a new reality dating show called Date My Daughter. To quote the press release/casting call: "'Date My Daughter,' starring Donald Trump and his daughter Ivanka, features dads helping their daughters find true love, with daddy's approval [Ed's note: PUKE! Any grown woman who calls her father "daddy" needs to quit it. NOW.] Casting producers are looking for socialites [Eds' note: Again, puke.] between the ages of 21-30 years old who are attractive, possess a great attitude and a generous spirit. The dads should be affluent and interested in helping their daughters find true love." Here's a thought. Maybe these "affluent dads" should mind their own damned business and/or explore why they take such an abiding interest in their daughters' dating practices. In therapy.

Move over, Hulk Hogan, and make way for...Hulk Hogan? For the past 13 years, toymaker JAKKS Pacific has made action figures of the Superstars of World Wrestling Entertainment, and now the two companies are finally preparing to part ways, with Mattel (makers of the Dark Knight toys) taking over the license in 2010. But now JAKKS has two new tag-team partners, both of whom are big names in the world of combat entertainment, except these guys do it for reals.