Ok...I'm not allowed to post comments about my Victoria/David Beckham fantasy before bed anymore. I had the craziest dream last night.

I dreamt that I was BFF with Victoria and we were shopping. She drove a Honda Del Sol. It was weird. And we went to Target. She told me she always buys her handbags at Target. And I said, "But what about all of the Birkins?"

"They're fake, love," she said. "Target is mayjah! Now hurry up, we have to go pick up Marc (Jacobs, of course) at JoAnn Fabrics."

And then I woke up in a cold sweat.

You gotta love the south side...

Everyone has a top 5 list. You know, the list of the 5 celebrities you're allowed to (in your dreams) sleep with should the opportunity (in your dreams) ever arise. Although a male friend of mine recently argued that guys should be allotted 10 celebs and women only 5 because we women stand a better chance of sleeping with our male celeb fantasies than they do. It's an interesting argument.

Here's my list (Please note, they are in no particular order. Unless I happen to actually meet one of them...then you're number one, baby. You've always been number one...call me!):

1. David Beckham: Absolutely no commentary needed. He's quite possibly the perfect male specimen...as long as he doesn't talk. (Ok, so I added commentary...shoot me).

2. Michael Phelps: That's right. The body makes the list. Don't hate.

3. Adam Scott: A beautiful professional golfer/Burberry model with an Aussie accent? Yes please!

4. Clive Owen: I always say the movie Closer is the most unrealistic movie ever because no woman would EVER dump Clive Owen for that awkward midget, Jude Law. It just wouldn't happen. Clive is hot.

5. Geoff Stultz: I watched both seasons of October Road in their entirety (some episodes twice) because of him. That's love right there, bitches. At one time I was going to have a t-shirt made that says, "I (heart) Eddie Latekka." That's right...I'm as pathetic as you think I am right now. But come on, he dates the chubby girl. It's like the cutest story line ever!

That's my list as of 5/5/08. I'm a fickle bitch. It can change.

She didn't honor our truce.

It's on...

Hello lambs! It's Trixie here. No not Bunny, my super interesting sister who actually has good taste in sports. I'm Trixie, the one who fucks gay guys.

I'd just like to take a moment to talk to you about my new shoes, the MBT Karani's! I'm wearing them everywhere, and they are totally helping the blood circulation in my legs!

Aren't they fab? They're as fab as a gay guy in my bed. That's a ten on my fabometer!

1. The Pedegg: This may be the single best thing I've ever bought (or...had given to me, as is the case here). The story behind my having a pedegg is absolutely hilarious, and I'll never do it justice, so here's the short version. My mother is a diabetic, so therefore suffers from the bad feet (totally medical term). She gets regular pedicures (I've taught her well), but they can't even cure the bad feet. In her quest to find something...anything...that would help, she accidentally orderd $84 worth of Pedeggs from HSN (or one of those things). So guess who got one? And I'm serious when I say that it's the best thing ever. My feet? Like a baby's ass!

2. My Blackberry: I don't know why I waited so long to embrace the Smartphone thing (it could be because I'm about as techie as a senior citizen). It's still way too much phone for me, but I love how I discover something new it does every day.

3. My new golf bag: So I've talked myself down off the "I need to have the houndstooth, Nike golf bag" ledge, and I'm embracing my love for the bag I got for Christmas. I know, I know...you'll all be able to sleep tonight.

4. These shoes: I'm not going to tell you the story of how these shoes came to live with me because it would make you even more jealous of my luckiness, but I am absolutely in love with these shoes. They don't look like it, but they go with everything. And I am one tall drink of water in these bitches.

5. The weather today: I don't want to jinx the fine residents of Chicago, but we may be out of the water, folks. Wrigley, street fests, day drinking, North Ave beach...here I come!

Hi!

I love you!

Let's call a truce. I'm sorry I hacked into your site and posted that you love golf. If it makes you feel any better, I didn't sleep a wink last night for fear of your retribution (it also could have been the bad Mexican I ate for dinner, but we won't talk about that).

I love you!

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Now that that's over with...there will be absolutely NO more disparaging comments about Adam, Sergio, or any other extremely masculine member of the PGA tour. Failure to comply will result in your commenting privileges being revoked.

You've been warned. Fear my wrath.