On Tuesdays, I so dearly want to kick back, do my little dance (it makes the milliner giggle), and watch The Amazing Race. Unfortunately, I also know that I’ll be subjected to seeing bare-chested Jonathan (shudder), his overdosed-on-botox wife/punching bag, and KKKendra. But the worst? Oh, the truly awful, emetic worst scenes to flicker on the tele are, without a doubt, that mousy, if-you’re-gonna-binge-you-better-purge starlet, Sarah Jessica Parker hocking the schmata for Gap.
Go on and use slave labour so that I only have to pay $20 for a pair of pants (I kid). Make everyone dress in beige and earth tones, no complaints here. But please, for all that is good and holy, can someone get lil’ orphan Annie off my screen? Bring back my two favourite drunks, Marianne Faithful and Rufus Wainwright, and I’ll go back to loving the Gap. But to see Matthew Broderick’s personal fluffer receiving gifts because she’s just so, so perfect? Yeah, that doesn’t work for me.