He ties Pete Sampras's record, he wins at the French Open in three sets, he shines in the Gillette commercials, cries sweet triumphant tears to show he's not an alien robot from Mars, nice people and a-holes love him, celebs pine for him, and he impregnates his wife with his super-tennis-DNA sperm. What *doesn't* Roger Federer do? I bet he can't dance. Dish went to a tween dance recital yesterday and saw adorable little girls flailing around in metallic leggings. Must go to American Apparel to buy metallic leggings for myself, then sign up for tap lessons again. I may look like a shiny gold elephant. Lucky for me, I dance like one, too. Dish’s favorite moment in film (aside from Roy Scheider making the shark explode): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LvglHa_P9BA
Tonight is about the Tonys not because I've seen any plays but I love all gay events and Dolly Parton (even gay men love big boobs). It's one of the few show-biz venues where being out is in. Somehow, this is funner than the closeted award shows with its audiences of tired fake marriages and beards.
2 comments:
Oh, it was almost not worth getting out bed today with Dolly's losses. I will always love her. Billy Elliott sits down to pee.
Dolly was robbed! More like Willy Smellsalott!
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