Wednesday, December 09, 2015
The pain I feel over next week's finale cuts deep, and I am hoping tabloids will keep me stocked with pics of their canoodling until next fall. Forget Kim and Kanye's baby deity or Trump's Hitleresque rantings (yes, I said that). You're okay if you focus on Gwake.
With constant Youtubing and TMZing and Googling--sending links to TG, friends and relatives--call me grateful that they've pulled me back into celebrity obsessiveness. Duran Duran just wasn't cutting it even with their excellent new album. After thirty-plus years, there is no hope beyond my usual nosebleed seats, which doesn't appeal to my almost-fifty lazy ass. Screw Seneca and delayed and expensive gratification.
Gwake is free*, immediate and middle-age sassy.
*Not free if you buy Gwen's collaboration with Urban Decay. It's 58$. Yes, I did.
Posted by Dish at 6:08 PM