The Santorum Sanitarium


by James Killough

When the compassionately irreverent sex-advice columnist Dan Savage proclaims in a Tweet on March 13, after the big upset in Dixie, “Santorum… officially not funny any more,” maybe we should consider taking Rick’s own Cirque du Ridicule seriously.  After all, it is Savage who hammered a sizable dent in the Republican candidate’s reputation when he created the wildly popular neologism that Santorum means “the frothy mixture of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex.”

Even after her success with the royal wedding, Burton is killing with her own brand of McQueen.

While I understand Savage’s alarm, the situation is actually funnier than ever, especially if you follow it with enough detachment not to get sucked up into any sort of panic.  True, there are various scenarios wherein the inmates could take over the asylum, but they are unlikely enough that we shouldn’t live in fear of them ever transpiring.

On Duchesses and Drag Queens


by James Tuttle

Gentle reader,

A few days ago, I stopped in at Tru Hollywood nightclub for a party for Basketball Wives’ Shaunie O’Neal and her collaboration with Chinese Laundry.  The shoes were okay, I guess.  They only cost one or two hundred so they’re not a big investment but, as you know, I’m in favor of saving up to buy something good.  More memorable than those tacky shoes was the high ratio of lighting and camera crew to actual guests and the fact that it was so damn hot in there.  Once the open bar ended at nine, I was out of there so fast I left a vapor trail.

We can't bring ourselves to lead with a picture of Shaunie O'Neal so we're starting with a picture of shirtless Jan Schumacher because, um, Shaunie and Schumacher and shirtless all begin with a "Sh."

The Basketball Wives ladies who attended were quite beautiful and seemed to have a pretty good sense of style so I decided that I’d check out their show the next chance I got.  I did and, well, it’s terrible.