You know....I'm just going to say it: I love Diablo Cody. I don't care who knows it. I wanna get Showtime just so I can watch that new show she's writing for, The United States of Tara. Come on! A Mom with multiple personalities? The sky is the limit with this shit:
My horn is chaffed from tootin' it so damn much this week. Do other people have to do this: write up a review of your own job performance? I guess it beats having to listen to your boss read off a laundry list of your fuck-ups. But I'm a modest gal and I find this to be a loathsome task.
Don't you wish you could be in Dupont Circle in D.C. on Inauguration Night, ritualistically cleansing Bush from D.C. with burning sage? Maybe I'll just light up a smudge stick here and blow the smoke eastward.
You just can't trust photography anymore. I realize that photos could be manipulated before the onset of the digital age, but it's just so out of hand now. Everything's photoshopped to an absurd level of unrealistic beauty and or ugliness, from landscape scenes and fashion magazines to images of devastation in the Middle East and Amy Winehouse's face. And now this: Madonna's NSFW 80's crotch. Now you know that ain't real! They cloned a clob of bear fur up in there! Come on! Not even the bearded lady had a bearded taco that bearded.