Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Monday, Jun. 06, 2005 - 10:03 p.m.

Snarky.

S to the n to the mutha-effing ark. That's right, I said it. How you like me now, yo?

Actually, I will be mostly nice. In fact, I am going to start with my new buddy Lauren's jewelry site, Accoutrements, because she's got some pretty, creative stuff (some of which makes me feel really lazy and realize that I *have* to give in and start doing all the complicated stuff I haven't felt like making), and I am all about supporting my pals. :)

Ah, my buddy Joey makes me wish I lived in Toronto. I could move to Canada. Except for that pesky thing about how close it is to the United States, it seems a very nice place to live. It's very photogenic when it subs for the US on American television, the people are always polite and friendly and don't tend to murder each other in droves, it has actual public transportation you can really use, and I really liked Toronto the one week I was there, in mid-December of 1986, even if it was really cold. This is my favorite Cuppagraph so far, though I also really like this one. I forgot to mention, I also like the older architecture in Canada. It does not all look like it was built in 1955 and immediately turned into slum housing. Then again, maybe that's just most of Southern California. ::sigh::

An ex's ex was featured on Go Fug Yourself, recently. That was rather a shock, seein' as she is a paragon of virtue and wonderment whose photo would probably have been hung in the house we shared if I had not put my foot down over it. (Okay, fine, that's a slight exaggeration; but only *slight*.) Imagine the shock in seeing her with little white flower pasties on under her somewhat sheer blouse at a public event. She looks very pretty, pasties aside, and all I ever hear is what a nice person she is, beloved by all and all that, so I am not about to bag on her. I'll even say she looks much better in this photo than she did playing a transsexual who got murdered on one of the CSI's earlier this year. Damn it.

(I am just kidding about the damn it. Please do not send me hate mail about how nice Sarah Buxton is and what a hateful bitch I am for saying mean things about her. As far as I seriously know, she is a very nice - much nicer, sweeter, and more deserving than I am - person, so take a chill, Buxton fans.)

I also came across this photo of Paris Hilton on the fug site last week. I actually don't mind the outfit, but those bug-eyed shades have really got to go. I do not know what she was thinking with those things. The only person I expect to see wearing sunglasses like that is my friend Bill's 97-year-old Bubbi who has glaucoma.

And if you missed it in yahoo news, you really need to check out this picture of Phil Spector's hair. Frankly, I never knew the guy had that much hair. I never knew anyone had that much hair. Dude. And the thing that kills me, is that there's no way Phil got his hair to do that on his own, which means that someone actually did it for him...on purpose. He paid a "hairdresser" to do that. Which is clearly a bid at the insanity defense, because I'm sorry, but there is no way anyone thinks that looks good. I mean, you just can't and still be in your right mind. Clearly, Phil is trying to convince jurors that he believes this gigantic dandelion poof of hair is going to protect his shaky noggin from cracking open if he falls and lands on his head, because I can think of no other even halfway rational explanation for that ridiculous explosion of hair. When I first saw it, I thought for sure it had to be photoshopped. I am not kidding.

Yo, yo, listen up, dawgs (I don't know): Dish Network rocks the house. I have been a movie recording fiend lately. Seriously, dvr is the bomb. Right in the middle of live (or even not so live) tv, you can hit the little back button and catch that line you just missed or pause it to answer the phone. It's awesome. Unfortunately, it lends itself to the huge temptation of wanting to watch movies all the time, and that unfortunate side effect led me to watch Spiderman II the other night.

It's a good thing it was on satellite. Otherwise, I would have had to find some hapless theatre employee and slap him around a while before demanding my money back. Man, that thing is bad. And typical Hollywood: if a movie is successful, make a sequel that is completely lacking in every single thing that made the original successful, except for the plot, which you should rehash but with third-rate writers - or maybe just the same writer, who is suffering from ennui over having to retell the same story with different names and just wants to collect his money and head to the bank so he can take that trip to Aruba he promised his wife/mistress/girlfriend/daughter. Whatever, the plot should be as near to the original as possible, but without any of the elements that made the first one work. Then toss a lot of money into marketing and hang on for the ride. Yawn. Hollywood really does suck. I am now convinced the only time it gets something right, is when a horrible mistake is made that someone probably got fired for.

And on that note, I'm going to bed.

Peace out,
Katie

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Yesterday's News - Next Stop

In which Katie shares sad news - Wednesday, Apr. 01, 2015
In which Katie returns after a very long absence - Monday, Jun. 25, 2012
In which Katie pokes her head in and brushes some of the cobwebs away - Thursday, May. 06, 2010
In which Katie asks you to write your congressman again. - Monday, Jun. 02, 2008
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