While you were freaking out that the creepy pod known as Romance on I Love New York is so lifelike yet so incredibly disturbing, I was getting a haircut, watching I Love New York, and eating Katha's Christmas Balls, delicious cookies I'm bringing back up to Wesleyan that I made with my mom. And also finding stuff to post here. Obviously.
Who are you again?
Ryan Seacrest is all pissed that Angelina Jolie snubbed him at the Goldie G’s. He’s all “boo freakedy hoo Angelina didn’t talk to me on the red carpet,” and she's all, "I'm sorry who are you again? Because I'm Angelina fucking Jolie, you worthless waste of Jergens Sunless Tanner." Seriously, who are you, Ryan Seacrest? You are a pathetic groveler whose idea of gossip is LITERALLY talking about the weather. Angelina is a talented movie star who has more important things to do than answer moronic questions about what she feeds her kids for breakfast. Like do Brad Pitt in a bathroom and then suck his blood while Jennifer Aniston mixes vodka with Special K to numb the pain and then makes a voodoo dolly of Angelina’s perfect perfect fucking face (for example).
The dot and the line: A romance in lower mathematics
Or: how I learned to stop worrying and love being a complete nerd who sees
all of her failed relationships in mathematical metaphors.
Seriously, even if you don’t like math, which would be totally fucked up
and make you obviously stupid, this Oscar winning short is incredibly
sweet. Plus, are you really doing anything? Really?
I knew if I typed “gay dance” into youtube I’d find something delightful.
The guy in the white shorts is so great, and he even represents Rocafella records a bit. If Damon Dash didn’t hate gay people he might be proud. I actually have no idea if that’s true. I'm sorry. About a lot of things.
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