Sansa got more puppy shots yesterday. She did not like it. The box of wormer looks as though it's positioned for product placement, I can assure you that is purely coincidental (pay me if you want, though, Novartis!)
In English, I speak fast. I’m loud, perhaps even annoying, depending on who you ask. In Spanish, I feel like I am perpetually blushing: polite, apologetic, and scared.
Death Becomes Her
Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn as resentful exes playing an increasingly dangerous game of lesbian one-upmanship. One-updykeship. I don't know, puns aren't my strong suit. All of Bruce Willis' scenes are replaced with that shot of Isabella Rossellini wearing a necklace for a shirt and purring "You're
scared
."
Growing up I wasn’t like other kids. I didn’t want to play tag at recess, or go over to the neighbor’s house and play their video games. I barely even wanted to run around with the family dog. No, nobody really understood me, but that’s okay because books are my best friends. My best friends.
Nicole finally pulled the "I won't be seeing the new
Star Wars
for a long time because I have two children and a new puppy" on me, which she should have done a long time ago, because by holding out until now, I thought she never would.
I knew there was a reason I always used to mix up Madeline Kahn and Bernadette Peters; the reason was that the universe was going to give me a duet between the two of them.
There's a party happening next week (or so we hear, we haven't been invited yet, fingers crossed!) and it would be great if you could all wear something entertaining this time. Something one of a kind. Something that screams. Screams! Plus, New Year's Eve is the fastest hot-to-not night of the year, so maybe you want to create a distraction? Here are a bunch of vintage finds that'll fit the bill.
