Brits and Boobs: Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show 2013

Gentle reader,

It’s been a taxing day, what with finding the perfect Christmas tree and carting it home tied to the roof of the car while a faint grinding sound reminded me that having the brakes looked at was that very important thing I was supposed to do this morning.  We made it home, nevertheless, and Scott immediately set off to make Palm Springs a less wrinkle-y place while I stayed behind in Hollywood to transform said tree into a veritable wonder of Chinese Christmas kitsch.

Beyoncé Met Ball

Ballin’ on a Budget: The 2013 Met Gala

Gentle reader,

Did you ever wonder what it would look like when the Fashion World’s mighty had fallen?  The organizers of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute Gala might have been pondering that very question when they settled upon the theme “Punk: Chaos to Couture” for this year’s bash because from the final scorecard of hits and misses, it seems that infusing punk inspirations into red carpet glamour proved trickier than expected.  Some just threw in the towel and showed up in beautiful ball gowns.

Out of His Depp

THE KILLOUGH CHRONICLES | REVIEW

by James Killough

Without knowing the exact insider gossip behind the release of The Rum Diary, I can only take a somewhat educated guess as to what’s created this mess at the Mad Hatter’s tea table.

Has to be botox. HAS to be.

The film has three credited financing companies, but I imagine there is a fourth: Johnny Depp himself, a longtime friend of Hunter S. Thompson’s, who no doubt magnanimously overpaid for the rights to the novel, and wants to see his money back, which is why his has thrown his considerable weight behind the film’s PR: a Vanity Fair cover article; pieces he wrote himself for The Daily Beast and others; and a rather forced, not-very-funny “viral” video with Ricky Gervais. Otherwise, Depp has suffered a mild psychotic break and actually believes this piece of absolute tripe is worthy cinema.

Viggle Room

THE KILLOUGH CHRONICLES

by James Killough

“I used to think I had narcissistic personality disorder,” James Tuttle once commented to a post of mine on the subject.  “Then I discovered I just enjoyed being good-looking.”  Tuttle is not just good-looking.  In online parlance he is “VGL,” or Very Good-Looking, which from the early years of hooking up online I have been calling “viggle.”  This is because invariably some total tool who would refer to himself as VGL in his profile is not that at all, and is therefore worthy of ridicule.

If you ever need a dose of viggle, ohlalamag.com is the place to go. This detail is from a recent Dolce & Gabbana campaign, a.k.a. Me and My Boys (I wish).

Indeed, one of the first rules of online dating is that a guy is rarely the adjectives he uses to describe himself.  “Hot,” “sexy,” “hung” are common enough delusions/mendacious cacas, but my alarm bells sound loudest when some dude describes himself as “sane,” “normal,” “fun,” “smart,” or, worst of all, “cool.”