So in the past twenty minutes, my constant refreshing of the Yahoo! main page to check my email (come on, the toolbar alarm isn't always accurate and PEOPLE NEED ME) and several items of note have come to my attention:
Katie Holmes is converting to Scientology. For the love of God, someone stop her. There needs to be some kind of bitch-slap/common sense asylum in Hollywood where a good New Englander with an once of sense slaps the shit out of these nutty L.A. twentysomethings. "Lindsay Lohan, don't you dare go in that bathroom. I know you just ate. And stop jumping rope to burn the calories... you'll get your spectacular God-given rack back if it's the last thing I do. Katie Holmes, you've been dating this guy for three months. Nevermind the icky father-figure issues, but you're willing to give up your religion for some freaky-ass Sci-fi Top Gun thing. After three months of dating? Do you know who's more normal than any of you girls? Angelina Jolie. She's homewrecking old-school style. So eat a sandwich, you skinny bitches, and stop being idiots. That'll be $5,000." If stars will pay thousands of dollars for doggie collars they'll certainly pay me to make them more normal. I'd like an agent, but without the sycophantic tone. So, Katie, please stop. Please. No matter what you do, he's still going to like men.
Destiny's Child is breaking up. This is no shock since the moment Beyonce humped Jay-Z in the "Crazy in Love" video the death knell of Destiny's Child rang in the form of a "Rocky" sample. It does make me a little sad (and a little angry that Beyonce's dad dragged bystanders into his daughter's career to launch her into success and leave them as R&B roadkill when she became strong enough to stand on her own) to see the group break up, since they gave us such gems as "Soldier," "Bug-a-Boo" and "Bootylicious." They gave me the power to love my body, y'all. So fare thee well, Michelle and Kelly. We'll see you on VH1 in a few years on a retrospective show.
The Michael Jackson Comeback Trial 2005 is almost over. I paid little to no attention to this complete waste of time because this trial is so 1993. If he's guilty, I won't be surprised. If he gets off (pun unintended but apt) I won't be surprised. Fame gets you far in this country, and the evidence against him doesn't sound that strong. I don't like any of the people involved so I just want it to be over so maybe we can elevate the public discourse to talk of Katie Holmes and whether or not porn should have its own domain name on the internet.
So let's gather around the television so we can tell our grandbabies where we were when the verdict of the Trial of the Century (so far) was read. I'll always have a special place in my heart for the OJ verdict (waiting for the school bus to leave at the end of the day, that Cute Kid running along the row of parked busses screaming "Not guilty!") so this is kind of "meh." Back to work...
Monday, June 13, 2005
Big News
Posted by Amy at 3:50 PM
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