Sunday, March 29, 2009

Jack The Bulldog Returns: Julia -- The Wonder Years, Continued

Cupcakes, I confess that I’ve been AWOL and suffering from chronic JA fatigue. The weariness has zapped Baugher in the past and has also afflicted the original RBNS, although she remains the watchful overlord here. That fatigue sets in when one realizes that, like a leopard, Julia Allison will never change her spots, or her pink tutu from The Limited. She simply becomes more indefensible, more morally bankrupt, more self-defeating, more childish, and more blatantly unlikable as she heads into her 30s.

Not surprising that while I was away, our lady made public her desire for some very married men, made a fool out of herself at various conferences, attended a birthday party allegedly for herself in which her name was left off the cake, posed with a sleazebag celebrity professor, and found an ex-Doobie Brother to chase her across Manhattan in the hopes of hard cash. What a fool believes!

Since I am most tired of cleavage-struck males running to the former Ms. Baugher’s defense, whether they be “angry somewhat young man” Ian Spiegelman or the misguided jackass from the Davos piano bar who invited her to speak at Parsons because “women really want to hear Julia,” it’s time for another instalment from Julia’s Wonder Years. And yes, she makes a complete fool out of herself. Again. Sit back, cupcakes, have some juice — I know you don’t drink! — and enjoy.

It’s spring semester, 2004. I’ve now endured three classes with the most loathsome creature at the university, but she’s away a lot this term, turning in papers weeks late while allowing the level of classroom discourse to noticeably rise. Today, we’re not so fortunate. My media studies class and two classes from the history department are gathered together to hear Jim Bouton speak. I only know who Bouton is because I saw him the previous semester in my film noir class playing the villain in Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye. Now, I don’t expect Julia to know what film noir is or why Robert Altman is important, but I did expect that she’d be courteous around a genuine baseball legend. Being no baseball fan myself, I learned from my dad that Bouton had played professionally and written an infamous memoir entitled Ball Four back in the early 1970s. Forgive the terrible pun, but this man had been a heavy hitter.

There must have been about 200 students and faculty members crowded into a large classroom for Bouton’s talk. He spoke of baseball, working in film and television, the steroid scandal, and his political causes. The man was articulate, smart, never boring, and the room was most interested.

About 20 minutes into Bouton’s talk, I heard movement and tittering around Julia, who was seated two rows directly in front of me. I moved up to see what the minor commotion was and had to suppress a laugh. Julia was cutting pictures of banal celebrities out of supermarket rags and pasting them into a scrapbook. Like an 11-year-old back in Dubuque. And unlike her then-idol, Paris Hilton, Bouton had never fucked on videotape and could form a sentence using more than three words. But why bother listening when it was cut-and-paste time?!

The looks of shock and finger-pointing were priceless, and one of the history professors moved in to discover what the commotion was about. When the prof saw Julia, seemingly oblivious, in her heavily made-up face, her age-inappropriate clothing, and cutting the likes of Demi Moore out of Us Magazine, a look of recognition appeared in his eyes. He must have realized that this creature wasn’t a student at Georgetown at all. Perhaps she had come with Bouton or one of the other students had brought her to classes for the day, for Julia was clearly “special” in this professor’s eyes. And he backed away, shaking his head sadly.

Next time: Julia ruins children’s literature for the entire class!

Contributed by Jack The Bulldog


  1. Jack, I love you like a fat kid loves cupcakes.

  2. I second that. I love Jack, like a fat kid loves cupcakes as well.

  3. im a fat kid who loves cupcakes AND jack

  4. Morally bankrupt? Uh...ok, Jerry Falwell! Bring it!

    sorry...i've snarked on JA in the past but that one just seems a little too "Pot, meet Kettle" to me.

  5. Yeah, I guess divulging your boyfriend's mental health issues on Gawker because he had the gall to break up with you, and then demanding he buy you a laptop a few weeks later, isn't morally bankrupt.

  6. This story is pretty tame in the realm of Julia Allison atrocities. Once you've done [see above], not paying attention to a lecture is pretty "eh" (though, yes, definitely rude).

  7. Melsy--Morality is a concern for those other than the religious right and Julia Baugher is morally bankrupt. She hasn't an honest bone in her body and would sell her own mother out if she thought it might get her a little publicity. Encountering her in the flesh is like looking into the abyss.

  8. FormerGawkerEmployeeMarch 29, 2009 at 11:28 PM

    Or how about publicly and privately calling your business partner and BFF a bitch, and also floating the rumor around town that she's a drunk?

    So. Nice.

  9. anon 11:20, we've all not paid attention during lectures. I thought the point of the story was that Julia is a retard, cutting out star photos from magazines and pasting them in a scrapbook like a ten year old. Well, like a retard.

  10. Jack the Bulldog

    Thanks to your comments I checked out a couple of her old Hoya columns. From what I could tell she seems to have been just as obnoxious and in love with attention and herself back then as she is today. I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise.

  11. I forgot to include the link to one of the columns


  12. Ineff, thanks for the link. What strikes me as absurdly sad is that Julia's writing style has not at all advanced from when she was in college. She's incapable of progressing.

  13. Here's some twitter fun:

    I've moved my date back, in thirty minute increments, 3x tonight already. Ugh. Still not ready. Can't we just reschedule for tomorrow??
    about 4 hours ago from web

  14. Yack, I say this to all of the new (male) peoples here: Would you like to put your penis in my vayina?

  15. Ineffable

    Funny that the column you posted finds Julia mostly reprinting comments from readers. You're right, nothing has changed. She's still relying on others for content, and the drivel still sounds like drivel, more appropriate for Young Miss or 17 magazine.

  16. For you Russian Girl, anything!

  17. Dahling

    Ja di d not write her columsns, her mommy did

  18. Oh, that's right! Mother Baughsters "edited" Julia's columns, just like she "edited" Julia's homework. Should Mother Baughsters have been charged with plagiarism? Or perhaps she was not well that one week, leaving Julia to "write" on her own, which consisted of plagiarizing a listicle from a website.

  19. Wow, what a ding-dong. Rude *and* dumb.

    Found this October 2003 interview with "Julia Baugher, sex columnist" by Washington Post Columnist Bob Levey. Choice quote:

    "I'm getting my master's in political science - there are few people who know me, besides my little brother, who think I'm an idiot."

  20. What a fucking liar! In 2003 she was still in undergrad, and she has NEVER gotten a master's.

  21. Jack: what a perfect and perfectly revealing story. It's the kind of thing nobody could make up.

  22. the master's thing is so, so fitting. she told everyone who would listen she was so smart she was going to pursue a master's degree--thus successfully planting the perception she wanted in people's minds. then, she never actually got that degree. no biggie!!

  23. The number of times she winks in that article is disgusting.

  24. A master's degree at Georgetown would not have been a possibility for Ms. Baugher. She was a daily nightmare for the dean's office, and the type of shenanigans Ms. Baugher pulled as an undergrad would simply not have been tolerated at the graduate level. Not for a single day. The Harvard Business School bullshit was a pipe dream of epic proportions.

  25. When did Georgetown start giving out a Masters in Douchebaggery?March 30, 2009 at 3:17 AM

    from the WAPO Oct '03 interview:

    Washington, D.C.: I'm a Georgetown alum, class of '03. I'd like to know where the Post got the idea that Julia Baugher's column was a "hit" -- simply because writing a sex column at a Catholic University created a media buzz? I'll admit that there are some truisms to what Ms. Baugher writes. However, her column often portrays Georgetown women as though their lives consisted of buying lingerie and waiting for the boy they took home last night to call. The vast majority of us female Hoyas are outspoken and educated women, who have much better things to do than keep a running tally of our "booty calls." The column just isn't representative of most of the women at Georgetown. Frankly, the closest it came to a hit was as my girlfriends and I scoffed at it over lunch.

    Julia Baugher: Actually, you're right. Instead of going to classes, I go to Victoria's Secret. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Please. I'm getting my master's in political science - there are few people who know me, besides my little brother, who think I'm an idiot. I'm not sure I COULD be more outspoken! The fact of the matter is, relationships, that is dating/sex, are a HUGE part of life. HUGE. To try to deny that is just being insincere. Especially at college, where thousands of students live together for the first time ... these issues impact all of us. And just because you haven't gotten a booty call lately, doesn't mean that you haven't wanted one ;) (JOKING, geez)

    Same as it ever was.

    Jack: I love you like a crackwhore loves crack!

  26. that interview was gross... THE WINKS. omg.

    "That having been said, I have an Ex Boyfriend who broke up with me about two weeks ago, mainly because he was worried about what I would write about him"

    "I had a stalker for the last 11 weeks ... that wasn't too much fun, I'll admit."

    "Only occasionally do I respond to my detractors - mainly because they usually don't have very good arguments. If there's a genuine debate, I'm up for it. If they're just bitter they're not getting action, well ... not much I can do."

    "Do my partners expect me to be an expert in the bedroom? Yep. And at the risk of sounding ... umm ... really egocentric, I don't disappoint. It's not that I was born with innate skills or anything - it's just that I took the whole thing seriously, got books, studied up, asked my partners what they liked, was willing to experiment."

    "Not sure if I would pose in the buff ... the whole DC puritan thing is pretty deeply ingrained in my nature. That and my father would die."

    "Actually - although we all profess to be offended by a man trying to get us drunk, we're also offended if he doesn't offer to buy us drinks. Ironic? well ... I'd say stick to plying her with only 2 drinks. That won't get anyone but me unconscious. ;)"

    "They've asked me to change various things, among them the word "sex" to something more benign, remove the word "vibrator" (it was in an innocous anecdote - I swear!), ANY references to joking about Priests and sex. They do not like it when I take the Catholic church to task for hypocrisy."

    "I was a big fan of "The Rules" - the supposedly conservative 1995 bestseller that enraged feminists across the nation. (Ironically enough, I consider myself a pretty big feminist)."

    "Yes, I only take photos in short skirts and low-cut shirts. HAHA ... well, that's half true. Hey, you gotta work what you got!! but is that really me? ummm ... yes and no. I think we all have different facets of our personalities. That's my "sex columnist" side ... I also have my "picked-last-in-gym-class-can't-kick-a-ball-to-save-my-life" side, my quiet side (that doesn't come out much), etc.
    Actually, I'm an extremely open and outgoing person, so the public me is pretty much what you get in private too. My friends regularly ask me ... extremely detailed questions about sex/dating and I'm happy to answer them. And yep, I'm a big fan of short skirts. ;)"

  27. The only thing that interview reveals is that she has not managed to mature, grow, or change in any manner since college. She's going to crash hard in a couple of years when she hits 35 and her looks go down the toilet from all her crash dieting and lack of sleep. She won't know what to do, she has nothing else to work with.

    I kind of feel sorry for her. She obviously has mental problems.

  28. A scrapbook of celebrities in college? Ay de mi. Her hero worship of them hasn't died a bit since. Also, too funny when girls drop the "kama sutra" because in their mind it's as simple as "ooh, a book of sex positions! bring it up and make a guy think about sex!" I wonder if Julia Allison - feminist as she claims to be - liked this bit, having read it and all :

    "When she hears the sounds of his footsteps coming home she should at once get up and be ready to do whatever he may command her, and either order her female servant to wash his feet, or wash them herself. When going anywhere with her husband, she should put on her ornaments, and without his consent she should
    not either give or accept invitations, or attend marriages and sacrifices, or sit in
    the company of female friends, or visit the temples of the Gods. And if she wants to engage in any kind of games or sports, she should not do it against his will. In the same way she should always sit down after him, and get up before him, and should never awaken him when he is asleep. In the event of any misconduct on the part of her husband, she should not
    blame him excessively, though she be a little displeased. She should not use abusive language towards him, but rebuke him with conciliatory words, whether he be in the company of friends or alone. Moreover, she should not be a scold,
    for, says Gonardiya, `there is no cause of dislike on the part of a husband so
    great as this characteristic in a wife'. Lastly she should avoid bad expressions,
    sulky looks, speaking aside, standing in the doorway, and looking at passersby,
    conversing in the pleasure groves, and remaining in a lonely place for a long
    time; and finally she should always keep her body, her teeth, her hair and
    everything belonging to her tidy, sweet, and clean."

  29. Is Speigs a big Yoolio defender?

    Jack-Thanks for bringing us a real story of the real JA.

  30. Here's a column from Hoya written by a guy who went on a date with her for the paper. Doesn't seem like she's changed at all I love how she only talked about who else she had dated.

    Tom's Version
    Worlds Collide: The Hoya Hooks Up Dating Pro with Inexperienced Amateur
    FEBRUARY 14, 2003

    Did you ever find yourself in a completely ridiculous/embarrassing/random situation and just ask how the hell did I get myself into this? Well I did on Monday night. Let me start from the beginning. Better yet, let me start with a few definitions that will better help you understand this column.

    Thomas Wigg (me): nerdy 18-year-old freshman news writer for THE HOYA who has not had a date since the Clinton Administration and who has an extremely limited amount of experience with the opposite sex.
    Julia Allison: very good-looking 21-year-old sex columnist for THE HOYA who is used to dating medical students on a daily basis and writing about the logistics of booty calls.

    Worst idea ever: having these two people go out on a date and write about it in the Valentine’s Day issue of THE HOYA, on the front page no less.
    Unfortunately, however, I was about the only person who thought this was the worst idea ever. The rest of the staff thought it was the most hilarious idea they had ever heard. So with that, combined with Julia’s immense enthusiasm and idolatry for the Yale sex columnist who wrote about a date with a fellow staffer, I had an exceedingly unlikely and equally hot date (not to objectify, but she seriously is smokin’ in case you’ve never seen her).

    Phase 1: Popping the Question
    It was in the office two weeks ago when the crazy fellow staffers had this idea, and in an aberrant burst of confidence and courage on my part (coupled with an unbearable amount of peer pressure that none of the techniques I learned in D.A.R.E. class could defend against), I asked the beautiful “sexpert” for her cell phone number — and she actually gave it to me.
    I would like to say that I was cool as a cucumber in the following days, but instead I did some studying. Specifically, I read Julia’s column about the rules of dating in order to get some pointers. Low and behold, I found a rule about not asking girls out on a date for the weekend after Wednesday. Thus, trying to maintain a nonchalant image, I called at the last possible time — Tuesday night. It was supposed to be a big moment where I would ask her if I could take her out to dinner, but like in every crucial cell phone situation, I got the voice mail and proceeded to leave a very polite message proposing a date for Sunday evening.

    Phase 2: Overcoming Adversity (and a little age discrimination)
    I was worried when I didn’t get a call back on Wednesday. My cell phone was on full volume and vibrate mode during class, but she didn’t call. I actually did have one false alarm that turned out to be my mother asking me how to turn on the printer back at home, but I digress. I really wanted to give her another call but I didn’t want to come off as too anxious. I was informed by a secret source that she had no idea I was a freshman and was having second thoughts about the entire thing — and wouldn’t you know, there was still no call by Thursday afternoon. I went to THE HOYA office on Thursday night to work on Friday’s issue and to my surprise and subsequent nervousness, Julia was there. I decided to confront her about the whole thing. She made a couple dumb excuses for not calling me back but in the end agreed to go out and said she was excited.

    Phase 3: Word on the Street
    Following that encounter, I was feeling disenchanted and unenthusiastic (I mean I was doing this for the paper and it seemed like she was doing me a favor or something). But according to the female staffers who are always a wealth of gossip, she was sincerely excited about the ordeal and even buying gifts for me. Needless to say, a feeling of uneasy excitement swept through my body.

    Phase 4: Gearing up
    By Saturday the date was only one day away and I needed to get ready — I mean this girl was a professional dater and I was a typical, freshman professional masturbator (sorry I don’t mean to gross out the readers it just rhymes really well). I decided to seek some advice from the female staffers. As you have probably already assumed, the newspaper provides my only interaction with the opposite sex (i.e. I am a pathetic nerd). Roxanne Tingir, our lovely senior news editor, told me that no Georgetown girl could resist a guy in a blue Polo shirt, and being from North Jersey like everyone else here, I happened to have a few of those in my closet. I was also told that I should get her some gifts—so on Sunday, before the date, I rushed over to Hallmark in the mall and picked up some fancy chocolates and a teddy bear holding a heart.

    Phase 5: Disappointment
    So there I was, rushing back to campus with my Hallmark products to take a shower before the 7 p.m. rendezvous. The big night was finally here, or so I thought. It was twenty-six minutes before “game time” when I got a call from Julia. It went something like this: “Hey Tom! It’s me Julia! Listen—I’m still kind of hung-over from last night and I have a paper due tomorrow. Would you mind if we went out tomorrow night instead? Great! Pick me up at six.” My big night was postponed. The next day, the big night was finally here—again, or so I thought, again. At about 5:56 p.m., four minutes before the scheduled date, I got another call. Only this time, she only wanted to postpone it for an hour more because she had “just gotten back from the gym” or something like that. But no biggie, I guess I could wait an hour longer.

    Phase 6: The Interrogation
    So by 7:05 (again not wanting to seem too anxious I allotted myself the fashionably late five minutes), I went to her Henle apartment to pick her up — and by that I mean walk over to her place. Like most girls (or so I’ve heard at least), Julia wasn’t ready yet. I sat on her couch and played some Falling Numbers on my Motorola V60i. As I approached my high score, I was interrupted by roommate number one. Seemingly uninformed about the situation, she started asking me a series of questions (“How did you and Julia meet?” “Is this the first time you’ve gone out?” “Are you nervous?”) telling me that I could “shoot straight” with her. Roommate number two then proceeded to bombard me with some more informed questions (“Do you like Julia?” “Do you expect to get action?”) and I suspect she was commissioned by Julia herself. I was warned that Julia was a “tough date” and she “gets really excited.” This was about the part where I was feeling ridiculous/embarrassed/random.

    Phase 7: Predating
    After keeping me waiting for fifteen minutes, Julia finally came into the living room. It was well worth the wait. Julia — with her whore-boots, mini-skirt and cleavage — was enough to turn on Elton John. She then informed me that she always does shots before a date, so there we were doing a couple of Bacardi shots just to “loosen up.” We then exchanged gifts. I got a half-dead plant with the caveat that it was a “symbol of our relationship” so I had to take good care of it. In addition, I received a very sweet homemade Valentine. I then gave her the chocolate and teddy bear that I had picked up the day before. And with that, we were off.

    Phase 8: En Route
    Only about eight steps out of the fishbowl, Julia ran into some friends. I was introduced to them before the all shared a “Legally Blonde” moment commenting on each others respective “Louis Vitton” and “Coach” purses. The cab ride regressed into exactly what I wanted to avoid – talking about high school (as if I could make myself seem any younger). We did, however, find common ground in our leadership activities and such probably common in any Georgetown student’s high school career.

    Phase 9: Eating Out
    The cab dropped us off and I had planned to take her to Nathan’s (no – not the hot dog joint but the fancy restaurant at Wisconsin and M). But this independent woman, powerfully asserting herself, didn’t want to eat there. She wanted to go to Benihana’s instead, which was totally fine with me. And after about twenty minutes of waiting and a strange phone call from her ex-boyfriend (go figure), we were seated.

    Phase 10: Margaritas and Reese Witherspoon
    Now I love Japanese restaurants, but I would have preferred a traditional table where I could have looked down her shirt during dinner when I got bored. The waitress asked for our drink orders and we both ordered margaritas and the underage freshman was served no problem (that would have sucked if I got carded, and sucked even more if I got busted using a fake ID). I think it’s fair to say that halfway through the margarita Julia was drunk. She was quick to notice the uncanny resemblance of another woman at our table to Reese Witherspoon, who actually turned out to be a staffer for John McCain.

    Phase 11: Creating Conversation
    Julia knew that THE HOYA was paying for our dinner, so she unhesitatingly ordered the most expensive meal on the menu. Even though we didn’t know each other very well, we actually had good conversation throughout dinner. I talked about my siblings, she talked about dating medical students. I talked about my future aspirations, she talked about dating a CIA agent. I talked about my family, she talked about dating a law student. Okay maybe I’m exaggerating but she did seem to have an awful lot of dating experience.

    Phase 12: Party like It’s Your Birthday
    By her command, I whispered to the waitress that it was Julia’s birthday (it’s actually not for another month). The crew came over, banged a drum, and the table sang happy birthday and clapped for her. We also got some complimentary ice cream. We were eating ice cream out of the same bowl, talking about politics, having some laughs, and for brief moment, I forgot that this woman was totally out of my league and I was having an unreserved great time. The moment quickly subsided when her psycho ex-boyfriend called again.

    Phase 13: Back to Her Place
    We grabbed a cab back to campus and were arm-and-arm on our way from the Healy Gates to Henle. Julia, still thoroughly drunk, decided that I was ready for my last batch of gifts. I got a nice box of chocolates and a red teddy bear (whom she affectionately named Princess Sophia). We embraced and the date was over.

    I wish I could say that I got some on that date. I wish that I could have provided inspiration for all the nerdy freshmen out there too afraid to talk to the hot older women on campus. I wish I could have had a story to tell my friends. And moreover, I wish I could have had a happier ending to my column. But no, I failed to accomplish every date’s goal. But at least for one night, Steve Urkel got to have a serious date with Laura Winslow. Unfortunately, I have no transformation chamber

  31. "she always does shots before a date" and talks about high school. Wow, she's so DIFFERENT now than she was in college.

  32. Latest date, Mr. Physics. Yawn.

  33. - Of course it has to be her birthday on the date.

    - Of course she has to change the date on him, and of course she gets to be late to it.

    - Of course she gets to override her date's choice and pick the restaurant, and of course she orders the most expensive meal.

    Honestly, that woman has been and always will be a huge self-entitled bitch. If anyone is evil, it is her.

  34. i thought she doesn't drink?

  35. I'm thinking too many people found her off-putting so she's attempted to change how others perceive her by *claiming* she's a prude, doesn't drink, etc., when we all know that's a lie.

    Reading those interviews really fueled my hate for her. She is so in love with herself it's disgusting.

  36. Exactly why I roll my eyes everytime some "fan" stops by with "why don't you like someone you don't even know", it's through anecdotes like these (and there are so many posted online it's ridiculous) that makes me think, "yeah we basically do".

  37. "at the risk of sounding...umm...really egocentric"

    That word doesn't quite make sense in the context she uses it in. I assume she means egotistical.

    Julia--when in doubt, you should always "LIU" ("look it up")

  38. I don't know if I should be happy or sad that I missed those amusing performances by Julia in class as I was an SFSer.

    All Sex and The Hilltop was good for was some laughs during my Friday lunches in New South. And maybe spare TP if I ran out (I lived in VCW as a frosh).

  39. While JAB clearly behaved like an idiot here, I can't help but be a little put off by the high-and-mighty tone used to describe Julia in college. Um, how many of us skipped classes, had some one night stands and didn't take school as seriously as we should have? And I'm not Julia or even a fan, just an interested observer. I just think you can find girls, and guys, like Julia at just about any university .... and many of them graduate. That says a lot more about our system of "higher education" than anything else.

    -This post brought to you by Long Island Iced Tea

  40. Anon 8:00--Oh please, give me a break. We're not talking skipping a few classes or snoozing during a lecture. Everyone has done that. Ms. Baugher left classes for weeks at a time, turning in work weeks late if she turned in at all. And when this jackass did manage to show up, she played cut and paste like a five year old or made absolutely inane statements to get attention. She seldom had read any of the assignments and was under constant supervision. Georgetown isn't some state school "system"; it's a remarkable university and that's why Julia Baugher's presence was so offensive to her classmates, her professors, and the administration.

  41. (I'm anon 8:00)

    Hey, I don't know the girl at all, you could be totally right. I went to a state school where the majority of students seemed to care about little else besides getting f*cked up on weekends and watching football, so I'm probably coming at it from a different perspective .... dumbasses there were a dime a dozen and nothing shocking. OK, back to lurking.

  42. There are two types of people in this world:

    -People who are mortified when their friends tip off the wait staff at Benihana's that it's their birthday, when it really is

    -People who don't even have the grace to feign mortification when they force their friends to lie to the wait staff at Benihana's that it's their birthday

    I, my fellow RBNSers, am thoroughly, intensely and resolutely glad to know I am in the first camp.