Tuesday, October 09, 2012
Matthew McConaughey's Manorexia Made Me Eat a BBQ Bacon Cheeseburger!
I have so much anxiety. I'm worried about the election. TG and I forget to watch Vegas each week, which means Michael Chiklis doesn't know how much we love him. Our ulcers rip open with each episode of Cupcake Wars and Florian's vicious criticism of artificial flavors. Yeah, how does red velvet get that way naturally, Flore? Do we have to bleed for you?
I'm such a mess, I started watching The Next Best Thing -- bad movie comfort food. I learn so much each time I watch it:
I think Madonna saw Rupert Everett as so awesome with Julia in My Best Friend's Wedding that she had to steal him AND the real-life boyfriend Benjamin Bratt. Girls are so competitive!
Michael Vartan is like stone. Sort of like in every movie but sometimes that works, like when Dish watched Never Been Kissed 500 million times. No wait, that was someone else.
With his posh accent, Rupert hauls dirt in LA somewhere. I'm not quite sure what Rupert does, but I don't buy it. He's not a manual labor guy (Nothing wrong with it, I like it). Tax attorney, pundit, academic, museum curator, maybe.
I never knew this but it's so logical and happens all the time: the 100% gay best friend gets drunk and can't help but sleep with his female friend. Then again, if it's Madonna, I might close my eyes and hope for the best...
Girls never ever keep track of their periods, especially Madonna. She eats like a pig suddenly and then consults her calendar, going back months. Sorry, I call BS.
Yoga is the only way to get a banging bod.
I love how Madonna tries to play a more passive female. Her character is quite likeable, someone I'd totally hang with. I almost kinda believe it, too, if it weren't for THE ACCENT.
But you have to love someone who does whatever the hell she wants. I need a cookie.