January 21, 2013
Michelle Obama Got Bangs Is the First Lady of the United States of America. Here’s a list of major news outlets that shared the scoop about Michelle Obama’s bangs today: USA Today, The LA Times, The Huffington Post, ABC News, NBC News, CBS News, The Philadelphia Inquirer, and The New York Times (not the style section). With headlines like “Michelle Obama’s Bangs are a Total Shock to The System” (HuffPo) and “The World Reacts to Michelle Obama’s Bangs,” (USA Today) these articles would be cringe-worthy/nauseauting/infuriating even on a less auspicious day, as they were on her birthday, when the bangs-buzz began over a photo she took with inaugural citizen co-chair David Hall and posted on her office’s new twitter account, @Flotus (genius). But on the day she joined her husband as he rested his hand on Dr. King’s bible to be sworn in for a SECOND term of office as President of the most powerful country in the world, you might think, maybe, we’d have more important things to talk about.
Listen, I’m just as shallow as the next guy (obviously). Back during the DNC when Michelle gave what was pretty safely the best speech of the entire campaign, I was among many who also found time to discuss her bold, blue-gray nail polish. When I received an email from Barack (don’t you love those) on January 18th with the subject “Morgan, Say You’re In,” I opened it to find a video Michelle recorded to launch the administration’s new “grassroots organization” Organizing for Action, and before clicking play, I immediately g-chatted a friend to say “ooh michelle obama got bangs. haha lolz. im a bad feminist.” I am not a great feminist, and I’ll cop to that. But I am also not a major news outlet. 
I don’t doubt that Michelle herself agonized over the choice to cut her hair, as only the First Lady is expected to do. I just wish the media had also agonized over their decision to go ape-shit about it. Unfortunately, the public reaction to Michelle’s bang trim is perfectly in keeping with the artificial importance that has always been placed on women’s White House style, and for her part, Michelle has handled the stakes well. I suppose she deserves some form of recognition for gracefully navigating such a fucked up minefield of complete bullshit that has nothing to do with anything. On the other hand, she also reserves the right to exercise her personal expression through style, as all red-blooded capitalists are free to do. There has been plenty of thoughtful commentary about the impulse to trivialize fashion while other forms of expression are elevated, as the following quote from the essay “Fashion is a Feminist Issue" contends: "It is the height of irony that women are valued for our looks, encouraged to make ourselves beautiful and ornamental… and are then derided as shallow and vain for doing so. And it’s a subtle but definite form of sexism to take one of the few forms of expression where women have more freedom, and treat it as a form of expression that’s inherently superficial and trivial. Like it or not, fashion and style are primarily a women’s art form. And I think it gets treated as trivial because women get treated as trivial."
So here we are. Michelle Obama, you look great. I also know you are a brilliant and gifted speaker, a mother, an attorney, and an advocate for military families, poverty awareness, volunteerism, and nutrition. But even your own husband rather cheekily referred to your haircut as “the most significant event of the inauguration,” so I’m not going to pretend that the way you look has nothing to do with how much America loves you. In fact, when I think about the number of Pakistani citizens killed by predator drones since Barack took office, (between 1700 and 3050 people), your bangs are a nice palliative. But I still think that on this day, of all days, we should have more important things to talk about. At the very least, we have Beyonce's performance to discuss. 

Michelle Obama Got Bangs Is the First Lady of the United States of America.

Here’s a list of major news outlets that shared the scoop about Michelle Obama’s bangs today: USA Today, The LA Times, The Huffington Post, ABC News, NBC News, CBS News, The Philadelphia Inquirer, and The New York Times (not the style section). With headlines like “Michelle Obama’s Bangs are a Total Shock to The System” (HuffPo) and “The World Reacts to Michelle Obama’s Bangs,” (USA Today) these articles would be cringe-worthy/nauseauting/infuriating even on a less auspicious day, as they were on her birthday, when the bangs-buzz began over a photo she took with inaugural citizen co-chair David Hall and posted on her office’s new twitter account, @Flotus (genius). But on the day she joined her husband as he rested his hand on Dr. King’s bible to be sworn in for a SECOND term of office as President of the most powerful country in the world, you might think, maybe, we’d have more important things to talk about.

Listen, I’m just as shallow as the next guy (obviously). Back during the DNC when Michelle gave what was pretty safely the best speech of the entire campaign, I was among many who also found time to discuss her bold, blue-gray nail polish. When I received an email from Barack (don’t you love those) on January 18th with the subject “Morgan, Say You’re In,” I opened it to find a video Michelle recorded to launch the administration’s new “grassroots organization” Organizing for Action, and before clicking play, I immediately g-chatted a friend to say “ooh michelle obama got bangs. haha lolz. im a bad feminist.” I am not a great feminist, and I’ll cop to that. But I am also not a major news outlet. 

I don’t doubt that Michelle herself agonized over the choice to cut her hair, as only the First Lady is expected to do. I just wish the media had also agonized over their decision to go ape-shit about it. Unfortunately, the public reaction to Michelle’s bang trim is perfectly in keeping with the artificial importance that has always been placed on women’s White House style, and for her part, Michelle has handled the stakes well. I suppose she deserves some form of recognition for gracefully navigating such a fucked up minefield of complete bullshit that has nothing to do with anything. On the other hand, she also reserves the right to exercise her personal expression through style, as all red-blooded capitalists are free to do. There has been plenty of thoughtful commentary about the impulse to trivialize fashion while other forms of expression are elevated, as the following quote from the essay “Fashion is a Feminist Issue" contends: "It is the height of irony that women are valued for our looks, encouraged to make ourselves beautiful and ornamental… and are then derided as shallow and vain for doing so. And it’s a subtle but definite form of sexism to take one of the few forms of expression where women have more freedom, and treat it as a form of expression that’s inherently superficial and trivial. Like it or not, fashion and style are primarily a women’s art form. And I think it gets treated as trivial because women get treated as trivial."

So here we are. Michelle Obama, you look great. I also know you are a brilliant and gifted speaker, a mother, an attorney, and an advocate for military families, poverty awareness, volunteerism, and nutrition. But even your own husband rather cheekily referred to your haircut as “the most significant event of the inauguration,” so I’m not going to pretend that the way you look has nothing to do with how much America loves you. In fact, when I think about the number of Pakistani citizens killed by predator drones since Barack took office, (between 1700 and 3050 people), your bangs are a nice palliative. But I still think that on this day, of all days, we should have more important things to talk about. At the very least, we have Beyonce's performance to discuss. 

December 3, 2012
The Saga is Over but the Immortal Emo News Cycle Lives On
CAREFUL: ALL TYPES OF SPOILERS
I haven’t posted in a while because I was busy finding a substitute for the once mindless, completely perfect activity of surfing gossip blogs, and I have found that replacement in Twilight. But I had to binge watch all five movies, and then of course I had to spend a couple weeks staring at one thousand google images of Kristen Stewart’s smoky eyes, and then I had to go on a hero’s journey in search of the right eyeshadow to duplicate the look. I spent a few saturday afternoons perfecting my technique in my bathroom for nobody, and now here we are. 
All along, I’ve always assumed that all the K-Stew/Robsten hullabaloo was straight bogus, but it wasn’t until watching the Twilight Saga that I realized that hhhahhhahahAHAHH AHAHhahahAHhAHHaHHAhhAhahha. HA! BAHhaha.
Wow those movies are bad. But more importantly: wow. The veil between Kristen Stewart’s “real life” love triangle and the ongoing fictional dramatics of a girl, a vampire, and a werewolf is THIN. Even thinner than starving pregnant Breaking Dawn Part One Bella.
I’m not saying that Kristen didn’t really have an affair with Rupert Sanders, because I definitely don’t care whether or not that is true. Maybe it was all fabricated to sell movie tickets, or maybe it was a true and tragic scandal that broke up a married man’s home, but either way it was delicious. Robert Pattinson was heartbroken! He got so super skulky! Have you ever seen such a tall man skulk all around like that for so long? It was operatic. And then, after she raked him ‘cross the coals, he took her back. Know why? Because of undeniable undying unwavering true love.
And really, isn’t K-Stew’s indiscretion understandable, after all? Isn’t it just so HUMAN? She’s crazy young, and her relationship with her skulky brooding boyfriend is so intense. Can we really expect her to leave her innocence behind and jump straight from the chuck taylors and hoodies of tweenhood into an immmortal bond with her one and only beloved? Maybe she just wants to pal around with a hot shirtless wolf for 90 minutes, being a total cocktease. Or, maybe she wants to make out with her director in front of the paparazzi.
Ok, ok, but the affair is old news. A few gems you may have missed along the way, however: 
1) Charlize Theron, who played the evil queen to Stewart’s Snow White in the movie Sanders directed was publicly "furious" about the affair because, you know, she’s a jealous, cold hearted actual witch who secretly covets her co-star’s youthful allure, porcelain skin, and ruby red lips.
2) Jodie Foster, who played Stewart’s mother in the 2002 movie, The Panic Room, came to the starlet’s defense in a (hilarious) special essay for the Daily Beast because she is fiercely protective and determined to communicate the truth to the outside world by hook or by crook, even though the Panic Room DOESN’T EVEN HAVE A PHONE, you guys.
Bringing us up to date, Breaking Dawn Part Two came out, Bella became a vampire and Team Edward was declared the eternal victor when Jacob fell in love with their eight-but-really-one-year-old daughter. The movie ended like all of them do with Bella and Edward lying in a field of wildflowers, their skin glittering like mad in the full sun. 
Cut to: the glittering flashbulbs of the movie’s Los Angeles premiere in mid November, where Stewart and Pattinson are looking fancy and PDAing the shit out of each other, putting all remaining doubts about their relationship to rest just like they punked the Volturi.
Most recently, they were photographed in an airport together and, because she is a no-nonsense, no frills kind of gal, Kristen wore comfy airplane pants and a baggy white t-shirt, and now three different tabloids are predicting a real life Renesmee. Damn that baby bump is growing faaaaast.
I only wish there was a way for this couple’s drama to go on forever, like if they could stay together eternally but never mature beyond the intense high school emotions that keep their relationship so interesting. How can we make that happen?  PS Check this out please: my amazing and talented friend Alice Rutherford did this awesome illustration for a Bust Magazine feature about K-stew’s infidelity scandal. PLEASE make sure you read all the hilarious headlines on the tabloids she drew in the background.

The Saga is Over but the Immortal Emo News Cycle Lives On

CAREFUL: ALL TYPES OF SPOILERS

I haven’t posted in a while because I was busy finding a substitute for the once mindless, completely perfect activity of surfing gossip blogs, and I have found that replacement in Twilight. But I had to binge watch all five movies, and then of course I had to spend a couple weeks staring at one thousand google images of Kristen Stewart’s smoky eyes, and then I had to go on a hero’s journey in search of the right eyeshadow to duplicate the look. I spent a few saturday afternoons perfecting my technique in my bathroom for nobody, and now here we are. 

All along, I’ve always assumed that all the K-Stew/Robsten hullabaloo was straight bogus, but it wasn’t until watching the Twilight Saga that I realized that hhhahhhahahAHAHH AHAHhahahAHhAHHaHHAhhAhahha. HA! BAHhaha.

Wow those movies are bad. But more importantly: wow. The veil between Kristen Stewart’s “real life” love triangle and the ongoing fictional dramatics of a girl, a vampire, and a werewolf is THIN. Even thinner than starving pregnant Breaking Dawn Part One Bella.

I’m not saying that Kristen didn’t really have an affair with Rupert Sanders, because I definitely don’t care whether or not that is true. Maybe it was all fabricated to sell movie tickets, or maybe it was a true and tragic scandal that broke up a married man’s home, but either way it was delicious. Robert Pattinson was heartbroken! He got so super skulky! Have you ever seen such a tall man skulk all around like that for so long? It was operatic. And then, after she raked him ‘cross the coals, he took her back. Know why? Because of undeniable undying unwavering true love.

And really, isn’t K-Stew’s indiscretion understandable, after all? Isn’t it just so HUMAN? She’s crazy young, and her relationship with her skulky brooding boyfriend is so intense. Can we really expect her to leave her innocence behind and jump straight from the chuck taylors and hoodies of tweenhood into an immmortal bond with her one and only beloved? Maybe she just wants to pal around with a hot shirtless wolf for 90 minutes, being a total cocktease. Or, maybe she wants to make out with her director in front of the paparazzi.

Ok, ok, but the affair is old news. A few gems you may have missed along the way, however: 

1) Charlize Theron, who played the evil queen to Stewart’s Snow White in the movie Sanders directed was publicly "furious" about the affair because, you know, she’s a jealous, cold hearted actual witch who secretly covets her co-star’s youthful allure, porcelain skin, and ruby red lips.

2) Jodie Foster, who played Stewart’s mother in the 2002 movie, The Panic Room, came to the starlet’s defense in a (hilarious) special essay for the Daily Beast because she is fiercely protective and determined to communicate the truth to the outside world by hook or by crook, even though the Panic Room DOESN’T EVEN HAVE A PHONE, you guys.

Bringing us up to date, Breaking Dawn Part Two came out, Bella became a vampire and Team Edward was declared the eternal victor when Jacob fell in love with their eight-but-really-one-year-old daughter. The movie ended like all of them do with Bella and Edward lying in a field of wildflowers, their skin glittering like mad in the full sun. 

Cut to: the glittering flashbulbs of the movie’s Los Angeles premiere in mid November, where Stewart and Pattinson are looking fancy and PDAing the shit out of each other, putting all remaining doubts about their relationship to rest just like they punked the Volturi.

Most recently, they were photographed in an airport together and, because she is a no-nonsense, no frills kind of gal, Kristen wore comfy airplane pants and a baggy white t-shirt, and now three different tabloids are predicting a real life Renesmee. Damn that baby bump is growing faaaaast.

I only wish there was a way for this couple’s drama to go on forever, like if they could stay together eternally but never mature beyond the intense high school emotions that keep their relationship so interesting. How can we make that happen? 

PS Check this out please: my amazing and talented friend Alice Rutherford did this awesome illustration for a Bust Magazine feature about K-stew’s infidelity scandal. PLEASE make sure you read all the hilarious headlines on the tabloids she drew in the background.

October 20, 2012
If it Ain’t Broke, Chris Brown will Break it. Allegedly, one of the best ways to improve your memory is to create a “memory castle” by assigning important thoughts to different rooms in an imaginary structure that exists only in your mind. After a while, you get to know the schematics of the entire castle, and you can access more memories and make faster connections through the hallways, stairways, and doorways you’ve laid out for yourself. I haven’t created my own memory castle yet, but if I did, I’m sure it would be a really cool place to hang out. Somewhere in the upper floors, in what would become my favorite room, I would build a special turret surrounded by clouds. I’d go there to relax, to reward myself, to focus. There, in a light filled chamber at the top of a spiral staircase, I would keep Rihanna. She’d wear a sequined pink bikini that would fill the room with glittering flecks of light like a disco ball as she’d move, dancing in slow-motion and holding a strong drink. Her hair would shift magically from one perfect style to the next in an unending and unpredictable procession. Watching her, I could transcend all earthly trials and free my mind from worry in an instant.Because I can’t really keep Rihanna locked up Rapunzel-style in an imaginary princess tower in my mind, I just google image her a lot. Like, constantly. But the effect is the same. Her beauty is mesmerizing, and looking at pictures of her puts me into a state of relaxed bliss that feels like a higher level of consciousness. You guys, Rihanna is the most beautiful woman alive. I’ve seen her in a million looks, styles and (slightly) different sizes, and she kills it in all of them. In a word, the woman is perfect. Unless you’re Chris Brown. Chris Brown thinks she might look better beaten beyond recognition, I MEAN with bigger boobs. And now, Rihanna’s out looking for a plastic surgeon.Rihanna is the queen of Fuck It, the queen of YOLO, the queen of I Do What I Want, and I love her for that. I can’t say I’m exactly comfortable with her return to her abuser, but I am resigned to the fact that the choice to do so belongs only to her. For the same reasons, she reserves the right to undergo elective surgery. But I really REALLY wish she wouldn’t, because those boobies are perfect. (ps- small boobs rule)We can’t hide Rihanna and her boobs away in a cloud chamber safe from harm where she can dance all day by herself. All we can do is look on from afar, wringing our hands and sweating bullets like we’re watching MacGyver disable a bomb.  Hopefully,  she’ll leave Chris Brown choking in her dust and tearing his shirt off in anger (he loves to do that) before any boobs are harmed in the process. But, if she doesn’t, it’s her mistake to make. #YOLO.

If it Ain’t Broke, Chris Brown will Break it.

Allegedly, one of the best ways to improve your memory is to create a “memory castle” by assigning important thoughts to different rooms in an imaginary structure that exists only in your mind. After a while, you get to know the schematics of the entire castle, and you can access more memories and make faster connections through the hallways, stairways, and doorways you’ve laid out for yourself. I haven’t created my own memory castle yet, but if I did, I’m sure it would be a really cool place to hang out. Somewhere in the upper floors, in what would become my favorite room, I would build a special turret surrounded by clouds. I’d go there to relax, to reward myself, to focus. There, in a light filled chamber at the top of a spiral staircase, I would keep Rihanna. She’d wear a sequined pink bikini that would fill the room with glittering flecks of light like a disco ball as she’d move, dancing in slow-motion and holding a strong drink. Her hair would shift magically from one perfect style to the next in an unending and unpredictable procession. Watching her, I could transcend all earthly trials and free my mind from worry in an instant.

Because I can’t really keep Rihanna locked up Rapunzel-style in an imaginary princess tower in my mind, I just google image her a lot. Like, constantly. But the effect is the same. Her beauty is mesmerizing, and looking at pictures of her puts me into a state of relaxed bliss that feels like a higher level of consciousness. You guys, Rihanna is the most beautiful woman alive. I’ve seen her in a million looks, styles and (slightly) different sizes, and she kills it in all of them. In a word, the woman is perfect.

Unless you’re Chris Brown. Chris Brown thinks she might look better beaten beyond recognition, I MEAN with bigger boobs. And now, Rihanna’s out looking for a plastic surgeon.

Rihanna is the queen of Fuck It, the queen of YOLO, the queen of I Do What I Want, and I love her for that. I can’t say I’m exactly comfortable with her return to her abuser, but I am resigned to the fact that the choice to do so belongs only to her. For the same reasons, she reserves the right to undergo elective surgery. But I really REALLY wish she wouldn’t, because those boobies are perfect. (ps- small boobs rule)

We can’t hide Rihanna and her boobs away in a cloud chamber safe from harm where she can dance all day by herself. All we can do is look on from afar, wringing our hands and sweating bullets like we’re watching MacGyver disable a bomb.  Hopefully,  she’ll leave Chris Brown choking in her dust and tearing his shirt off in anger (he loves to do that) before any boobs are harmed in the process. But, if she doesn’t, it’s her mistake to make. #YOLO.

October 17, 2012
Jennifer Aniston Got Verklempt
Jennifer Aniston went on Chelsea Lately last night, and she was adorable. Obviously, she was glistening from head to toe, because she is either made of butterscotch, or the inventor of butterscotch, or a muse sent from heaven to inspire butterscotch into being.
In the highlight of their interview, Chelsea mentioned that Jen was recently engaged. The crowd went absolutely bonkers, and Jen’s face was instantly consumed by a giant squeamish smile. Her eyes did that thing they do where they look like upside-down crescent moons, and for a split second it seemed like she might cry tears of joy.
There is nothing I hate more than a ten-year national spaz out over whether a rich, talented, powerful woman with perfect boobs, hair, arms, and skin will ever find love. Jesus Fucking Actual Christ. I’m really glad that can be over now. Jen’s reaction was beautiful, and it was probably 90% genuine, but her happiness was just far enough over the top to spell it out: she’s over Brad now. She’s not going to die alone. I honestly have no idea how anyone was worried about that, but I’m hoping her swell of emotion can finally put that bullshit to rest.
The idea that Jennifer Aniston will never catch another man is absurd and insulting. I do have to admit, though, that the imaginary battle between Jen and Angelina is more interesting…it’s an epic tale of good-vs-evil, toned arms-vs-spindly arms, bottle of smart water-vs-vial of Billy Bob Thornton’s blood. It’s still a shame that we’re pitting these two women against one another over a man, but in this case, that man is Brad Pitt. Brad Pitt is Brad Pitt, and his storied love affair with Jennifer Aniston was so right until it was so wrong, and we really can’t help loving their matching tawny hair. He is said to still have her number saved in his phone to this very day under the name “Golden.” Angelina, on the other hand, is a knockout humanitarian octomom, but she gives off an Elvira vibe, and some of us still remember when she made out with her brother at the Oscars, so we’re unsettled, understandably, and worried. But let’s not worry for Jen anymore, because, you guys, she has found love now. You can sleep easy. Side note: At first I thought Justin Theroux was skeezy…he looks like the guy that comes to yoga class to meet girls, and when he has a goatee it’s worse, then he looks like the grown man who goes to all-ages hardcore shows to make friends. But then I watched Wanderlust, and I loved it a lot, and now I love him too. If you haven’t seen Wanderlust yet please watch it because it is perfect.One more thing: Chelsea Handler, being who she is, also wanted to talk to Jen about why her nipples are always hard. I’m really glad this issue is finally being addressed. All throughout Friends, while everyone was asking “will they or won’t they” about Ross and Rachel, I was grappling with that OTHER unsolved mystery, and now we’re one step closer to an answer.

Jennifer Aniston Got Verklempt

Jennifer Aniston went on Chelsea Lately last night, and she was adorable. Obviously, she was glistening from head to toe, because she is either made of butterscotch, or the inventor of butterscotch, or a muse sent from heaven to inspire butterscotch into being.

In the highlight of their interview, Chelsea mentioned that Jen was recently engaged. The crowd went absolutely bonkers, and Jen’s face was instantly consumed by a giant squeamish smile. Her eyes did that thing they do where they look like upside-down crescent moons, and for a split second it seemed like she might cry tears of joy.

There is nothing I hate more than a ten-year national spaz out over whether a rich, talented, powerful woman with perfect boobs, hair, arms, and skin will ever find love. Jesus Fucking Actual Christ. I’m really glad that can be over now. Jen’s reaction was beautiful, and it was probably 90% genuine, but her happiness was just far enough over the top to spell it out: she’s over Brad now. She’s not going to die alone. I honestly have no idea how anyone was worried about that, but I’m hoping her swell of emotion can finally put that bullshit to rest.

The idea that Jennifer Aniston will never catch another man is absurd and insulting. I do have to admit, though, that the imaginary battle between Jen and Angelina is more interesting…it’s an epic tale of good-vs-evil, toned arms-vs-spindly arms, bottle of smart water-vs-vial of Billy Bob Thornton’s blood. It’s still a shame that we’re pitting these two women against one another over a man, but in this case, that man is Brad Pitt. Brad Pitt is Brad Pitt, and his storied love affair with Jennifer Aniston was so right until it was so wrong, and we really can’t help loving their matching tawny hair. He is said to still have her number saved in his phone to this very day under the name “Golden.” Angelina, on the other hand, is a knockout humanitarian octomom, but she gives off an Elvira vibe, and some of us still remember when she made out with her brother at the Oscars, so we’re unsettled, understandably, and worried. But let’s not worry for Jen anymore, because, you guys, she has found love now. You can sleep easy.

Side note: At first I thought Justin Theroux was skeezy…he looks like the guy that comes to yoga class to meet girls, and when he has a goatee it’s worse, then he looks like the grown man who goes to all-ages hardcore shows to make friends. But then I watched Wanderlust, and I loved it a lot, and now I love him too. If you haven’t seen Wanderlust yet please watch it because it is perfect.

One more thing: Chelsea Handler, being who she is, also wanted to talk to Jen about why her nipples are always hard. I’m really glad this issue is finally being addressed. All throughout Friends, while everyone was asking “will they or won’t they” about Ross and Rachel, I was grappling with that OTHER unsolved mystery, and now we’re one step closer to an answer.

October 16, 2012
Kim Kardashian’s Diaphanous Derriére
The woman with the world’s most famous living butt went out in public yesterday in a very sheer skirt without wearing underwear, and you can see pretty much everything. See, aren’t you so tasteful for looking at ART about it instead of a hi-res photo? I mean, obviously you’re going to look at both. But maybe not at work. So here’s something to tide you over. My take on her choice to wear what she wore is that, yes, definitely, she knew exactly what she was doing. It’s not like she’s an evil genius, she’s only human. If my ass looked like that (and I don’t mean if my ass looked that good, that’s a judgment that varies according to taste, I mean if my ass was a cultural touchstone and monument), I think it would drive most of my decisions. It’s like she’s two people playing a horse, only the one in the front is bent out of shape about it. That’s what her whole life is like. You play with the hand you’re dealt.

Kim Kardashian’s Diaphanous Derriére


The woman with the world’s most famous living butt went out in public yesterday in a very sheer skirt without wearing underwear, and you can see pretty much everything. See, aren’t you so tasteful for looking at ART about it instead of a hi-res photo? I mean, obviously you’re going to look at both. But maybe not at work. So here’s something to tide you over.

My take on her choice to wear what she wore is that, yes, definitely, she knew exactly what she was doing. It’s not like she’s an evil genius, she’s only human. If my ass looked like that (and I don’t mean if my ass looked that good, that’s a judgment that varies according to taste, I mean if my ass was a cultural touchstone and monument), I think it would drive most of my decisions. It’s like she’s two people playing a horse, only the one in the front is bent out of shape about it. That’s what her whole life is like. You play with the hand you’re dealt.

October 16, 2012
LiLo’s Political Endorsements Match Her DrapesEvery time Lindsay Lohan dyes her hair red again, I feel hopeful, the way you feel when you think that maybe one day you’ll see all your dead pets and relatives in heaven. But this time that feeling was ruined, because on the same night that she debuted her new hue, somebody asked her who she’s voting for.
Her response:“I just think employment is really important right now. So, as of now, Mitt Romney. As of now.”
I love Lindsay Lohan, and not just in the “she stole my heart in The Parent Trap and now its hers forever” way. I don’t love her entirely for her faults either, because i’m not a pro-ana cocaine dealer/part-time nanny. But I’m pretty clear on the fact that she is full of faults. She is a fucking fault line, she is the San Andreas Fault, and I love her anyway.Lindsay Lohan’s voice sounds like an ashtray. Her face is all puffy now. She has troutmouth and stringy extensions and an eye teaming problem. She hit a baby with her car and kept driving. She hit a BABY with her CAR and KEPT DRIVING. She cannot tell the truth to save her life, because the second she unhinges her jaw she starts coughing up a ticker tape of lies. Out comes lie after lie after lie, and it scrolls right on along the lane and never ends.
But Lindsay Lohan’s descent into scandal is not the average train wreck, and I am not compelled to look on by a perverse refusal to turn away. Watching her, at least for me, is more like watching the sunset. That big-busted beautiful ball of fire is going down, and it’s bittersweet and glorious, and I’m savoring every last minute. Mitt Romney is the worst. It’s not ok with me that Lindsay wants to vote for that man, who planned to “harvest” (his words not mine) the labor of his own company at the height of its profitability, outsourcing jobs to China and running on a job-creation platform. It’s not lost on me that Lindsay’s reasoning for voting for Romney is so misguided as to be ironic. But it’s no worse than hitting a baby with your car.
Lindsay has no good reason to vote republican, or steal thousands of dollars of jewelry, or blow off rehearsals, or terrorize babies, and I have no good reason to defend her. All I know is that somehow, to me, she is as charming as ever. One of these days she’ll be gone, at least from the headlines, dipping below the horizon and leaving my world a little darker. Till then, I’ve got my eyes on the western skies.When asked for further clarification on her decision, she added, “It’s a long story.” I think that means she’s not really planning on voting at all, right? Ticker tape of lies and all that.

LiLo’s Political Endorsements Match Her Drapes

Every time Lindsay Lohan dyes her hair red again, I feel hopeful, the way you feel when you think that maybe one day you’ll see all your dead pets and relatives in heaven. But this time that feeling was ruined, because on the same night that she debuted her new hue, somebody asked her who she’s voting for.

Her response:
“I just think employment is really important right now. So, as of now, Mitt Romney. As of now.”

I love Lindsay Lohan, and not just in the “she stole my heart in The Parent Trap and now its hers forever” way. I don’t love her entirely for her faults either, because i’m not a pro-ana cocaine dealer/part-time nanny. But I’m pretty clear on the fact that she is full of faults. She is a fucking fault line, she is the San Andreas Fault, and I love her anyway.

Lindsay Lohan’s voice sounds like an ashtray. Her face is all puffy now. She has troutmouth and stringy extensions and an eye teaming problem. She hit a baby with her car and kept driving. She hit a BABY with her CAR and KEPT DRIVING. She cannot tell the truth to save her life, because the second she unhinges her jaw she starts coughing up a ticker tape of lies. Out comes lie after lie after lie, and it scrolls right on along the lane and never ends.

But Lindsay Lohan’s descent into scandal is not the average train wreck, and I am not compelled to look on by a perverse refusal to turn away. Watching her, at least for me, is more like watching the sunset. That big-busted beautiful ball of fire is going down, and it’s bittersweet and glorious, and I’m savoring every last minute.

Mitt Romney is the worst. It’s not ok with me that Lindsay wants to vote for that man, who planned to “harvest” (his words not mine) the labor of his own company at the height of its profitability, outsourcing jobs to China and running on a job-creation platform. It’s not lost on me that Lindsay’s reasoning for voting for Romney is so misguided as to be ironic. But it’s no worse than hitting a baby with your car.

Lindsay has no good reason to vote republican, or steal thousands of dollars of jewelry, or blow off rehearsals, or terrorize babies, and I have no good reason to defend her. All I know is that somehow, to me, she is as charming as ever. One of these days she’ll be gone, at least from the headlines, dipping below the horizon and leaving my world a little darker. Till then, I’ve got my eyes on the western skies.

When asked for further clarification on her decision, she added, “It’s a long story.” I think that means she’s not really planning on voting at all, right? Ticker tape of lies and all that.