I'm Ashamed

Dish had one of those days. Not only do I have to suffer TG-withdrawal while he's traveling through Italy, but work-wise, it's been one of those six months. I counted the seconds before I could go home, order Chinese food and watch The Ugly Truth. I now confess: Gerard Butler is my imaginary concubine even though he's probably covered in VD man-scabs. Or Dish is just guessing.

I laughed, I tittered, chuckled, salivated, and blushed. Even Katherine Heigl didn't annoy me. Dish readers, I'm ashamed to say, I didn't want the movie to end. Sure, I'll slam The Machinist from here to eternity, but a sh*tty predictable romantic comedy, I'll allow through the hallowed doors of Dishland.

As Julia says in My Best Friend's Wedding: I'm better with food (though Dish never believes this line for a second--have you SEEN Julia? She hasn't looked at a fudgicle in 30 years). Christian Bale may be a Napoleon with layers and decorative swirls of chocolate, but Gerard Butler is a bold triple hot fudge sundae with double the whipped cream (hold the cherry--fruit ruins everything). Can you tell Dish needs a candy bar?