I stumbled upon this girl's site today and laughed my ass off. There it lies, shriveling at my feet. If you are in need of shedding your J. Lo, read her stuff. (The Entenmann's challenge is gold, Jerry!)
I viewed Super Size Me last night, which was horrific and life-changing, and today I woke up and craved Chipotle. Then at lunch I wrapped a marshmellow around a Hershey's chunk and feasted upon that. I hate myself. Oh and, by the by, I have never enjoyed watching/hearing/smelling/dreaming/remembering somebody puke, especially when I have just ordered a frosty lemonade and two warm chocolate chip cookies to accompany me throughout the movie. There was nowhere to run, and my eyes committed a mutiny on my soul by forcing themselves open to regard Morgan Spurlock's nasty-ass vomit. Rude, Morgan. So rude. The cookies helped, though.
President Bush: so busted.
I heard somewhere, or maybe I just dreamed it or made it up, that Jennifer Aniston is pregnant. Which means it's totally true.
You heard it here first: Kirstie Alley is aware that she's fat.
Last night I traded in reading and/or doing some writing for Celebrity Weddings 2004 on VH1. This is an official cry for help. (Incidentally, as I was just linking the VH1 site, I noticed that its homepage features Wilco, Motorhead, Ministry and Modest Mouse. VH1 is like the kid at school who shops at thrift stores and only buys vinyl and MTV is the popular jock who buys tattered-looking T-shirts at Urban Outfitters for $60 and has downloaded all the Jason Mraz bootlegs onto his iPod. In short, VH1 is better.)
Just beat it.
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