The Hills

Dear Heidi,

I wanted to like you. I just thought you were naive and vulnerable and silly. But then I saw you walking down the street on last night's episode, dressed in a horrible spandex number that I'm pretty sure made an appearance in Pretty Woman. Your shoes were high and spiky, platformy and shiny. Your poor lips were collagen-injected so they looked like a duck's bill. Consider this an intervention: I can't do anything for you until your ready to admit you have a problem. You're starting to look like the love child of Dinah Lohan and Jenna Jameson. Please get help.

Best,
That Girl

My triumphant return

So I kind of dropped off the face of the earth. And now my readership is up to like five, so I've got to step my game up.

First things first, I don't like this article. While I admire the spirit of trying to write like the poors, um, since when did buying cheap groceries become a fun novelty experiment? And who is this reporter at the happy-holidays-you're-laid-off Times who shops at the Gourmet Garage? (The Times doesn't put hits out on snarky bloggers, does it?)

So there's a lot more that's happened since I last blogged, and I should write a super-post ranting about all of it, but I'm just going to leave you five with this: Why has no one mentioned that Katryzna on this season of Top Model looks like Kelly Kapowski?