PHOTO MUCHACHOslow down everyone- you're moving too fast.
Everyone’s sentences begin with “OK” or “Yeah, so” or “Yo, hey. Yeah, no.”
Laurie Simmons’ daughter goes to her boss at the publishing house or literary agency and explains that she needs money. He fires her. She goes to meet a guy she sleeps with, an a hunky shirtless abusive woodworking actor who hates his parents. He tries to insert his penis into her rectum. She objects. He inserts his penis into her vagina. She talks about how it’s getting dark later. He asks her to stop talking.
Facebook texting Twitter Gchat Gchat Gchat smart phones.
The Drummer from Bad Company’s daughter thinks Laurie Simmons’ daughter should just go back to her parents and explain to them that she is an artist. She fights with Brian Williams’ daughter: “You can’t just mother her like this.” Brian Williams’ daughter and the Drummer from Bad Company’s daughter have a heart to heart while the Drummer from Bad Company’s daughter is on the toilet (shitting?).
Yo hey. Yeah no.
YES OF COURSE THERE’S A FUCKING FEIST SONG."
"But more important — yes, more important than imminent terrorist threats — is a terror more homegrown than even Nicholas Brody. We need to talk about the state of Carrie’s refrigerator. This makes three consecutive weeks that poor Virgil has remarked on the shockingly barren state of Carrie’s fridge, which makes it a more prominent supporting character than Lynne or Prince Farid or Bin Walid. For Virgil’s sake, if no one else, somebody needs to get that lady signed up with Fresh Direct, like, yesterday."
THIS IS SO SAD. PLS SOMEONE THINK OF THE FOOD.
At least there is first this, this summer, this gauzy idyll with Dan. The two of them playing house, eating waffles, lounging nude by the pool, feeding each other cherries, the blood-red juice dribbling down their chins until it is caught by the other’s tongue. Long nights of getting tangled in the sheets, longer days of lying on the grass, Dan reading aloud from a book, Erik resting his head on Dan’s chest and feeling the warm thrum of his heart. The sun lemony and cozy above them, a soft green breeze whispering through the yard. In the years after, in the many years after, Erik will look back on these few months as perhaps his happiest ever. A time when two people disappeared into each other and created their own universe together. When a house and a person was enough. When the world was simple and uncluttered and impossibly lovely. When a boy named Dan Humphrey would come bounding out of the house onto the porch, carrying a pitcher of lemonade or a bottle of wine and would stop for a brief moment, smiling as he gazed at Erik sitting and waiting, Erik seeing that Dan was as happy as he was. That he too wouldn’t mind letting the rest of the world forget them forever.
But of course the world always finds us, always interferes once more. And then there is college, and then there is… life, I suppose. The rattle and clamor of wheels rolling on drowns out the rush of the ocean, the hollow song of wind chimes, the hush of hot breath on a neck. That’s just what time does. It moves us along and eventually evaporates us — we are but clouds in the sky. We are merely molecules and memory, secrets and skin. As ephemeral as wishes, as fast and as fleeting as gossip.
Happy summers, everyone."
"1. The characters are the most boring people you’ve ever met. It’s as if they filled a show with 9th grade history teachers, JC Penney models, and PTA members. The plot is filled with explosions, political intrigue, and Lost style mystery (the media touted it as the replacement for Lost), but I do not care about any of it because I don’t care about any of these people. Take Sophia, for example, the leader of the extraterrestrial terrorists. Why did they cast my high school librarian for this important role? I’m sorry, television, I don’t care whether my high school librarian lives or dies—okay, well, maybe a little, but not really. There’s a scene where she says something to the effect of, “Despite my reluctance, we’re going to have to kill all the humans,” and I thought, ‘That is the only way to fix this show.’ If they actually murdered all the humans on network TV, I would finally become engaged. That would certainly be an event."
5 Things Wrong with NBC’s The Event, Brad Pike for Thought Catalog
ALSO: HAVE THEY FINALLY EXPLAINED TO US WHAT THE ACTUAL EVENT IS? What a stupid name for a show. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go hate on “Girl With A Tattoo Pearl Earring or whatever” because there was no girl nor dragon tattoo on page 1.
"So Blair’s in! She’s going to become a princess!!!!!! Holy cats, it’s all she’s ever dreamed of. If only the prince was more handsome and didn’t have an accent-related speech impediment. Sorry! Let’s just deal with facts here because we are adults, in theory. You’ve all been thinking it. But oh well. The point is, it’s princess time. Or is it??? Louis took Blair aside and was like “I love you but I think you are very obsessed with Le Chuck, so if you really love me, I’ll be at the fundraiser for your high school that I’ve never been to and that you invited me to. I’ll be there without you, which isn’t weird at all, and you can come find me. If you come, we’ll get married. If you don’t come, I can go again, seriously, just give me a minute, maybe you can be on top or something.” Haaa. He didn’t say that last part, sadly. But yes. If Blair goes to the party to find him, she loves him. No brainer."
"Naturally this terrified mama and she hopped the last Concorde and zoomed across the Atlantic to go clean this shit up. She was going to clean this merde up and clean it up good. French bitch, coming through. Watch out world. Blair, of course, was oblivious. Oblivious until she suddenly heard “Hymne Monégasque” blaring and the prince’s Monacan mama kicked the door down and said “Where is sheeee??” Uh oh. Not good. Blair ran and hid but it was too late. The old crone grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up and spat in her face. She then turned to the prince, cowering and pissing in a corner, and said “OK, buster brown, enough fucking your painted whores [thanks, Game of Thrones]. It’s time you got married.” Nooooo! But, unfortunately, yes."
"Right before the party Serena was visited by a terrible demon that some folks call “Vanessa,” the spirit of a long-dead cavewoman that is now a knotty tangle of bad juju and magicks. The Vanessa came to tell Serena what she had overheard — that Ben had done dastardly things in prison and whatnot. Like he’d had Nate’s dad beat up or something. Whatever. The point is, this further shook Serena’s confidence in Ben, so at the party she was really ready to talk to him about the affidavit and get mad or sad or something. But when she confronted him he was like “The hell you talking about?” and meanwhile Lily was upstairs talking to Lactaid, Ben’s mom, because of course Chuck would invite this random woman no one’s ever met before to his big “What Could Go Wrong?” party. Of course."
"Can we just talk about this for a second? Indulge me. Has anyone, ever, in the history of the entire world, from the ancient Phoenicians to the future Chinomerican Continental Dwellers, ever cared about a Bass Industries plotline? I really don’t think anyone has. Why would we? Is your typical Gossip Gimps audience member really that concerned about real estate holding companies and the various wheelings and/or dealings that happen within them? No! I understand that you have to have Chuckles do something other than catfish his way into ladies’ pants (I mean, I guess I sort of understand), but why not then make him do something interesting, instead of running a boring old hotel? Have him produce a movie! That’s fun! And you could introduce diva director and actor characters and Serena could get a part unexpectedly and it could be a whole season’s worth of stuff. Chuck Perry Presents: Chuck Perry’s Why Did We Buy This Hotel Too?. I would watch that. But, the dude from Spin City talking about acquisition deals with dumpy grownups? I’m sorry, I just fell asleep writing that sentence. Is it tomorrow? Did I write the rest of the recap? How’d it go?"
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