Hiyeeeeee! Welcome back to the I'm . How are you? Some people may say that they are "too blessed to be stressed" and I am living evidence that it's possible to be both blessed AND stressed. We can have it all!
Would you like to discuss news and gossip with me? I thought so.
First Lady is releasing an audio version of her memoir Melania and instead of reading her own book out loud for seven hours, she had an AI version of herself do it. If this woman wasn't complicit in so much villainy, I would almost respect how often she's just like "nah, I'm not doing that." I wonder how long until the media dudes who keep obsessing over finding a of the left start thinking we also need our own version of Melania, and you know what is depressing but true? It'll work. Give us an immigrant who does her own thing and hates her husband, but put her pronouns in her Bluesky profile—her face will be on a novelty crop top before you can say "this diva."
Fellow MAGA villain Representative is also in the news for her relationship to AI, but it's not quite as loving as Melania's: MTG is currently feuding with the Twitter AI bot Grok, because Grok questioned her Christian faith. When a user asked Grok if her voting records aligns with Jesus's message, Grok said "no," and Marge got mad. Arguing with a robot is the next logical evolution of a Karen's kingdom, and I'm actually fine with her getting her bitchy wiggles out with a chatbot if it means sparing the hostess at a DC suburb Cheesecake Factory.
Okay, last one about Republican women: Former America's Biggest Loser trainer and MAHA acolyte recently attended a press briefing at the White House and asked a question about a new report on childhood chronic illness put out by the same man who encouraged his grandchildren to swim in literal sewage. It is not shocking at all that Michaels would be hitching her train to RFK Jr's wagon—anyone who watched her make fat people cry on national television would believe her allegiance to the "first, do harm" administration.
has been getting a lot of press lately as he promotes the latest movie. I love Tom Cruise. He is so freakin' good at what he does. I like his big dumb teeth, and that he's short, and that he's pushing speculation on a romance with in a way that is so predictable and obvious that I am transported to another era—which is nice, since this era sucks so bad. And Tom Cruise isn't just a great movie star, he is a great movie goer, and he snacks like a fiend when he's there. Like, two buckets of popcorn per movie. Which is impressive. And I have so many questions: Does he buy two buckets at once, or does he just buy one, eat it all, then go back for a refill? You know, as soon as I wrote that out I knew the answer—one of the highest paid actors in the world is not going to miss five minutes of a movie just to save a measly $16. That means he's carrying the two buckets in with him, and that is such a great image. My next question is, how does he have enough time? It's like when people would smoke two packs of cigarettes a day. Like, how??? It's got to be constant, handful-style popcorn eating, like how Dagwood eats sandwiches. So I guess this is how those iconic chompers got so smooth and shiny. It's all the popcorn.
In other celebrity snacking news, recently shared her "hack" for getting excess grease out of a pizza, and it was by smushing the piece against the lid of the box so the cardboard soaks it up. Friends: I am not okay with this! To start, the top of the pizza box could be filthy. Food goes into boxes so that other elements of our disgusting world don't get onto it! The top of the box is for collecting pizza parlor dust and the delivery driver sneezes, and rubbing food on it is deranged; it is gross so that what is inside is clean. Also, this is a thing that only a rich person would do. This is not a woman who is thinking about carrying the box to another location, or breaking it down to go into the compost bin, or finding a place in the fridge for it, all of which are now gross tasks since it's covered in pizza juice. In short, Paris Hilton: jail? No, that's too much. I don't know. But I don't like this.
Now that we know what Paris Hilton smells like (pizza), are you wondering what other celebrities smell like? I know I am! People Magazine just did a roundup on celebrity smells, which is how I learned that smells like crayons. This quote is from late February 2020, and he must have been so relieved for the world to collapse into a global pandemic right afterwards and didn't have the brainspace to really lock in this factoid at the time. Thank you, People Magazine, for the reminder. Five Pulitzers to you from me.
Not surprising at all is that probably smells like cigarettes. She was recently reprimanded for lighting a cigarette after getting hammered on a private plane. I don't love secondhand smoke, and I definitely think smoking on planes is disgusting, but you know what? Let Britney Spears smoke wherever she wants. She has earned it. When I was at Universal Studios a couple months ago, I got such a kick out of the little safety placards they had on rides—like, to stow your hat, buckle your seatbelt, and not to smoke, because like, who would even think about lighting up on the Simpsons ride? Britney Jean Spears, that's fucking who, and god bless her for it.
just turned 18 years old! He is a symbol of another time, when the internet was mostly cats. It's weird that he is still alive and churning out content as the rest of the internet devolves into a cesspool of AI pornography and boomers complaining about their children hating them. The two eras seem so far removed from each other. It's like learning that Martin Luther King Jr. and Anne Frank were the same age. Great news, Maru appears to be thriving:
Portland's seemingly random Joan of Arc statue at the roundabout at Glisan and Cesar Chavez just turned 100 years old. Portland Monthly shared a little bit of history about why we have a statue of a 600-year-old French teenager in this city with no tangible connection to France, and I lost all interest in the explanation when I learned that the group that organized her installation was called the The Laurelhurst Daddies' Club. With no other information about the Daddies' Club, one can only assume it was a collection of old-timey men who gathered to promote art and wear muscle tees while smoldering.
With that image lingering in your mind, I'm off for now. Thank you for reading. Thank you for being excellent to each other.
Zaddily,
