Front page headline updated six minutes ago:
William F. Buckley Jr. Is Dead at 82
Mr. Buckley marshaled polysyllabic exuberance and a refined, perspicacious mind to elevate conservatism to the center of American political discourse.
Someone studied for his SATs.
Several friends have recently accused me and the bbf of being cynical. Cynical because we both hated the movies Little Miss Sunshine and Juno. I would like to point out that just because I rolled my eyes throughout Juno, that doesn’t mean those same eyes didn’t tear up when I read about Diablo Cody’s stripper friends watching the Oscars:
They burst into tears when they heard Cody’s name. “She proves that if you follow your dreams, anything can come true,” gushed Charlotte, a busty brunette. The girls have even made a plaque for Cody that reads in part: “Dedicated to Diablo Cody, who has taken our calling to new levels.”
Would a cynical person be so moved by the image of some pole dancers being inspired by a lousy screenwriter? No. And for the record, Darren and I don’t hate everything. We both enjoyed the animated penguin film Surf’s Up.
I have given up alcohol for a little while, but last night I chugged two glasses of vodka and Crystal Light lemonade in my dream. I woke up feeling hungover and ashamed, but luckily I am not a sleepwalker.
Actress Brittany Murphy is causing problems on the set of her new movie, according to Page Six.
“She’s extremely difficult. When she gets to the set, it comes to a grinding halt. She’s so hot and cold, you never know.” According to our sources, Murphy insists on having diagonally cut peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crusts removed. “She needs one every hour. It’s painstaking – her assistant takes about a half an hour making each one,” said one crew member.
I’m not a gourmet chef, but I calculate that I could remove the crusts from a sandwich, slice it diagonally, and probably even add a toothpick garnish in less than 30 minutes. I might even be able to accomplish the feat in under 30 seconds. This tells me that I should move to Hollywood, where sandwich-making standards are at rock bottom, and then I could amaze everyone with my godly talent. After I have impressed the celebrities with my de-crusted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I will further blow their minds by sticking a straw into a juice box.
Yesterday the bbf and I spent FIVE hours at Ikea shopping for a kitchen. Usually when I make the Ikea trip, it takes me exactly one hour to curl up on a floor model futon and cry, or drown my stress and misery with Swedish cinnabuns in the store’s food court. But this time I was patient, I didn’t get overwhelmed (couch! fake tv! huge shopping cart! screaming child! couch! loveseat! couch!), I treated everything like a big game of House Tetris, and I even treated myself to a Buffalo Chicken Quesadilla at Pizzeria Uno’s as a reward for good behavior. Still, I will not risk going back again for at least another week, when I have to return or exchange everything we bought.