For every time Carrie strutted through SoHo without tugging up her tube top, we have Liz Lemon, substituting a one-piece bathing suit for clean underwear. Where Carrie was glamorous, articulate and the toast of New York, Liz Lemon talks with her mouth full and drops Tostitos in her bra.
Does Carrie still have a place in recession America? Or will she land in Manhattan to find that all that’s left of her following is a legion of Lemons, fumbling with the water cooler in our slankets?
Ugh. What is going on here? An old acquantence said we should hang out so last week didn’t work and he told me so via email last Saturday so I emailed him Monday and said fine and called him last night to see if he still wanted to hang out this weekend.
Did I do something wrong here? I mean let’s just make a plan dude. The ONLY reason I like to have some idea of what the weekend holds is so I can budget- if I’m not going out tomorrow I can drink tonight, for example.
“I came down here originally in 1972 with some drunken fraternity guys and had never seen anything like it — the climate, the smells. It’s the cradle of music; it just flipped me. Someone suggested that there’s an incomplete part of our chromosomes that gets repaired or found when we hit New Orleans. Some of us just belong here…If I could put my finger on it, I’d bottle it and sell it.”—John Goodman (via cajunboy)
Ok so this Elvira woman hired Bethenny to come to her JCC party and now Elvira is doing something with Teresa. Real Housewives collision and I thought my brain had finally melted from mindless programming.
Sally Quinn, Celerie & Boykin Curry, and Grey Gardens all in one wee 219-word item? And this????
The fashion Saturday was no match for the strange contraptions Little Edie and Big Edie wore in the original documentary (fur coats, strange headgear, body suits). There was lots of ribbon-belted khaki, some seersucker, and a few pairs of floral-printed pants.