Tuesday, August 24, 2004

My Museum Mouth How You've Misused Me

Do campaign ads really work? Because all I'm noticing is a lot of stuffy types getting red in the face about the other side's sparkling new TV spot. Are there actually people out there who glean any sort of knowledge about the candidates in this way? These must be the same people on the Atkins Diet. By the way, Mom, stop sending me those chain letters about how Teresa Heinz-Kerry speaks five languages (the horror!) and harbors terrorists under her skirts. I don't believe any of that stuff just as much as you don't believe Kerry didn't get Botox. (Botox: the new soy milk?)

Let's all, as a nation, eliminate the Politics from politics and go out to Olive Garden for some good ol' American carbs. (That's right, Capellini Pomodoro, I'm talking to YOU.)

I'm just so sick of the whining and faux-victimhood. (Faux meaning faux.)

I saw Garden State this weekend. The more I think about it, the more I like it. Although, Zach Braff reminded me of Ray Romano, and I just wanted him to shhhhh, and let Peter Sarsgaard deliver any and all dialogue. Dialogue from a man, that is, because Natalie Portman was Regulating as Sam. (Zach Braff has a blog! Haha, loser.)

Sacha Baron Cohen was on Howard yesterday, and I missed most of it, but I was kind of disappointed he didn't show up as Borat.

I start class tonight, a graduate course in Contemporary Poetry. I've just realized I should have written that as contemporary poetry, but I was obviously caught up in the moment. Inane capitalization is the swooning of the millenium, bitches.

I'm so Bored.

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