Be still my heart: Brangelina buys in DC

Omigodomigodomigod, Brangelina has apparently bought a house in DC (link via Wonkette).

I wouldn't want to overstate the significance of this, but this is the biggest thing to happen to Washington since they paved over a swamp to create the seat of a new country. I envision a whole new District: No longer will our "celebrity" sightings have to include the caveat "famous for DC," and never will "Arlen Specter's hair has really grown back fast" have to pass for local gossip. DC's human beauty capital will increase approximately 4,000% (here is my evidence), sparking a dramatic increase in fashion self-awareness--an "and they saw that they were naked" kind of deal, except instead of resulting in fig-leaf loincloths and exile from paradise, this one would bring about a mass spontaneous rejection of pleated pants, navy blazers, braided belts, and low sensible heels. Finally, I wouldn't want to get ahead of myself, but once the eye of the world turns to DC, could voting rights be far behind?

God bless you, Jolie-Pitts, and welcome, Gorgeous New DC.*

*Yes, I'm listening to the State of the Union, but if the President can ignore a failed war and the total devastation of an American city, I can definitely ignore a crappy little speech.

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Burrito-related chin injury

I ate a burrito for lunch, and the aluminum foil it was wrapped in scraped against my chin, causing some redness and irritation. The problem was that I felt if I unwrapped the foil more, the burrito might fall apart. Have you any suggestions for this conundrum, dear readers?

Proposed new celebrity feud: Scarlett and Soon-Yi

Apparently Scarlett Johansson and Lindsay Lohan are having a catfight, or perhaps we could call it a Bathroom Wall Scrawl Brawl. The evidence, as reported by Gakwer, is that someone says Lindsay wrote "Scarlett is a bloody cunt" on the bathroom wall in some bar. You can even see photographic evidence that, in fact, someone once wrote that on a wall-like structure someplace. (Go Gawker with the intrepid reporting! Perhaps they should have put you on that weapons of mass destruction dealie).

Defamer speculated on the reasons for this apparent animosity, and come up with two possibilities: jealousy over Jared Leto, whom both actresslets have dated in the past, and generalized "professional competition."

Which, um, LAME? Re: Jared Leto, please see the pictures in my last post. If Ugly New Jared is enough to spark a Sharpie battle, then Jen and Angelina would be justified in launching full scale nuclear war over Brad Pitt. And who wants the world to end over Brad, no matter how hot he looks in this picture? Mmmmmm, Brad.

And professional competition? Am I going to write "Wonkette is a filthy ho-bag" on bathroom walls because I'm jealous that I'm still a clock-punching lawyer while the erstwhile Article III Groupie has taken over my dream job? I mean, maybe I am, but that doesn't make it any less lame.

Anyway, I propose that we, as a society, move on from this stoopit beef and turn our attention to a new one: Scarlett vs. Soon-Yi Previn.

A bit obscure, you might say? And totally made up? Well, yes, but consider: Scarlett, age 21, is known mostly for her on-screen dalliances with much older men and her off-screen declarations about how awesome it is for older men to be with young women. (The 2003 interview in which she refered to menopausal women as being dead inside, stated that men need a "young, fertile, fruitful woman" to help them deal with aging, and professed that she "definitely believes in plastic surgery" because she doesn't want to be "an old hag" is still burned in my memory, and not in a pleasant Jared-Leto-in-the-mid-'90s way.)

Similarly, Soon-Yi is known for marrying her 1000-year-old quasi-father, Woody Allen. This shared, inexplicable proclivity for antediluvian fellas, by itself, would probably be reason enough for these two to dislike each other, because, you know, there are only so many zillion-year-old fish in the sea. But combine that with the fact that Scarlett just starred in Woody's movie, Match Point, as Le Incredibly Sexy Young Woman, and that she recently said Woody is the sexiest man in Hollywood, and you've got a juicy All About Eve-level bitchfest on your hands. Bring it on! (And let Lindsay go home and get some sleep.)

lindsay lohan scarlett johansson soon-yi previn

Goodnight, sweet Jordan Catalano

There are some things so painful that we shrink in terror from them, hoping that we can hide from the truth until TomKat annihilates the world and it won't matter anymore. But, dear readers, the only way to conquer these demons is to look them straight in the eye, to feel their hellfire singing our eyebrows and melting our eyeballs. And so:

This is Jordan Catalano, the beautiful, silent, unattainable boy Angela Chase yearned for and, in that one heartbreaking episode, kissed in the boiler room in My So-Called Life. He formed the basis for the romantic dreams of, one must assume, the majority of the girls and boys who came of age in the early 1990s. True, in recent years Jared Leto, the actor who portrayed Jordan, turned into kind of a lameazoid, acting very little and skanking around in an age-inappropriate manner with Scarlett Johansson and Lindsay Lohan. But Leto's indiscretions could do nothing to change the memories of Jordan, ah sweet Jordan Catalano.

Until now. Here is Jared Leto now. Defamer says he's gained the weight for a role, dedicated to his craft, Oscar bait blahblahblah, but the only thing that's impressing me here is how easy it was for all of our girlish visions of love to be crushed into a flabby little pile under the sole of a late-model Elvis impersonator who apparently ate Jordan Catalano for breakfast.

I know, there's an empty space where my heart used to be, too. But all is not lost: at least we still have Christian Slater in Heathers.

Golden gay agenda

So the gays totally cleaned up at the Golden Globes last night, with the cowboy-on-cowboy weeper Brokeback Mountain winning Best Picture and Philip Seymour Hoffman picking up a "Best Actor" prize for his portrayal of Truman Capote.

Transsexuals also brought home their slice of the pie, as Felicity Huffman nabbed the "Best Actress" globe for playing an MTF transsexual in TransAmerica.

In an ironic turn of events, lesbians got the short end of the stick and left emptyhanded.

The bisexuals couldn't agree on a consistent plan, so they too wound up frustrated. Luckily, we hear they met up with the lesbians at an afterparty, so everything turned out just fine.*

*Hehe. Um. When your agenda is accomplished and you stand in judgment of the world, homosexuals, please note that this is all in good fun.

Cat bathing and the trouble with optimism

Due to Mr. T&A's having developed some kind of late-breaking allergy to something or everything in our house, we spent portions of this weekend washing the T&A Kittens in an attempt to encourage him to start breathing again. (Please note that I am referring to actual kittens, well OK cats, but anyway not Satanic alien spawn with perhaps unreasonably adorable names, a la Katie Holmes' TomKitten.) The delightful essay "Cat Bathing as a Martial Art" provides a fairly accurate description of the operation. Here's an excerpt:

* Know that a cat has claws and will not hesitate to remove all the skin from your body. Your advantage here is that you are smart and know how to dress to protect yourself. I recommend canvas overalls tucked into high-top construction boots, a pair of steel-mesh gloves, an army helmet, a hockey face mask and a long-sleeve flak jacket.
. . .
* Use the element of surprise. Pick up your cat nonchalantly, as if to simply carry him to his supper dish. (Cats will not usually notice your strange attire. They have little or no interest in fashion as a rule. If he does notice your garb, calmly explain that you are taking part in a product- testing experiment for J.C. Penney.)
* Once you are inside the bathroom, speed is essential to survival. In a single liquid motion, shut the bathroom door, step into the tub enclosure, slide the glass door shut, dip the cat in the water and squirt him with shampoo. You have begun one of the wildest 45 seconds of your life. Cats have no handles.

He. He. Anyway, I was at first surprised to find that the first cat to be bathed, let's call him BoyCat, was much more sanguine about the experience than the second one, to whom I will refer as GirlCat.* BoyCat, you see, is generally a much more temperamental sort, given to hiding under furniture, eating shoelaces and the straps of tank tops (damn you, BoyKitty!), and generally acting like an unsocialized criminal.

GirlCat, on the other hand, and there's no delicate way to put this, is a huge whore. A maurading band of pirates clothed in the corpses of other housepets could pillage their way into our apartment and she would rub seductively against their legs, and then flop on the floor on her back to encourage them to scratch her belly.

But in the crucible that is the bathtub, BoyCat remained relatively calm, while GirlCat attempted to murder both me and Mr. T&A whilst screaming like Fay Wray in the original King Kong.

Later, while tending to my wounds, I contemplated the events of the day and concluded that GirlCat's aggression is really a by-product of her optimistic nature. BoyCat, you see, suspects the worst of everyone at all times, so when we started to (from his point of view) drown him, he thought to himself, "Just as I always expected" and didn't bother to struggle. GirlCat, though, had a Hamlet-pissed-about-his-father's-murder type reaction to the bath, and if her brain were larger than a walnut she might still be plotting to revenge the betrayal.

So the lesson for today is: avoid optimism! And perhaps bring your cats to a professional groomer.

*Of course, I would not reveal my kittens' true identity without their consent, and they have been cagey about giving it. For that reason, the photo above is also not of my actual cat, but of the poor feline soul whose Google Image self responds to the name of "Angry Wet Cat."

World possibly saved: Trouble in TomKat-land!

Is it too good to be true? This story says the TomKat nuptials may be off because Christmas at her family's house didn't go well--they left 3 days earlier than planned with Katie in tears.

Thank God for the miraculous power of the disapproval of Midwestern parents! If Mr. and Mrs. Holmes could just turn their attention to the Middle East, we'd probably have world peace in a couple months.

Breaking news: Lat is the new Wonkette!

In possibly the biggest bloodless coup ever to hit bloggerland, David Lat, formerly Article III Groupie, is going to take over for Wonkette! Interestingly, the scoop showed up not in either of those blogs, but in an old-skool paper source, the Washington Post's Reliable Source.

My gut reaction is that this was a smater move for Lat than for Ana Marie Cox, the original Wonkette. She's getting out of blogging in order to promote her new book, but its reviews have been pretty poor so far, so you have to worry that she's pulling the writerly equivalent of a David Caruso, who tried to ditch his succesful gig on NYPD Blue for the greener pastures of the movies, only to come crawling back to TV when it turned out that he couldn't hack it in the big times.

Anyhoo, I hope this doesn't mean the end of Article III Groupie! The shenanigans of D.C. in general (Wonkette's subject matter) may appeal to a (slightly) wider audience than do the goings-on of the federal judiciary, but when you've gotta know who the hottest federal judge is, ain't nothin' else gonna soothe that monkey, if you know what I mean. If Lat could keep up UtR whilst vigorously prosecuting baddies and hapless drug addicts AND concealing his secret identity, surely he can do two blogs at once, no?

The insinuation that dare not speak its name: A3G and Anderson Cooper edition

So Article III Groupie, the blogger-queen of the federal judiciary, re-emerged recently, removing the password protection from her website, Underneath Their Robes, and announcing that he is leaving his job (which he holds under the code name David Lat) as an assistant U.S. attorney in Newark and moving to the sparkling city of D.C. Welcome back, A3G! And welcome to my list of D.C. quasi-celebrities who, if I see one of you, I think to myself, Where do I know that guy from? Did I go to college with him? I'd better look away in case he talks to me and I can't remember his name.

But my point is, what is the story with the title of the AP article about Lat's return: Spicy Blogger Leaves Attorney's Office? Spicy? Is David Lat a menu at a Thai restaurant? Is he a Latina trope on The Real World?

In other news, have you seen the ads for Anderson Cooper 360? (Try to stay with me here, people.) They quote somebody noting that Cooper has "a newness" about him. A newness? Has Anderson Cooper molted? Is a review of a performance art installation?

A new year and a new boatload of linguistic innovations I don't understand: I must be almost 30. Perhaps I'll feel better if plan to do something fun tomorrow. I hear there's a great movie about some spicy cowboys who have a newness about them.

Oh yeah: Happy New Year!

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