Poor Mel Gibson. What's a drunken anti-Semite to do? (My favorite headline today: "Let's Talk About Healing, Mel Asks Jews" from The Australian.)
As Mad Max gets increasingly madder and the frenzy over TomKat's MIA baby grow, I have to pause once again, and thank Christ that my talents are small and few. Otherwise, I would be world famous and inevitably become the daily target of web spites like Go Fug Yourself.
'Fug' is defined by the site's creators, Heather and Jessica, as a contraction of "fantastically ugly." They ponder such things as the mysterious cave in Paula Abdul's chest, Hayden Christiensen dressing awful on purpose to squelch those gay rumors and then there's showbiz veteran Dyan Cannon and her apparent cluelessness on the effects of flash bulbs. That's all fine and dandy but what is truly fun here is the writing - so wicked, so funny, I could've roamed the archives for days. For anyone, like myself, who is allowed to buy People at the airport where no one will seem them, this will be a new playground for ya.
I love that on the far left column of the site, they include proper media endorsements ("Hilarious bitches." --Defamer, "Visciously funny duo." -Hollywood Reporter) alongside actual hate mail from readers ("Your shriveled little hearts must be made of tar." -A reader, "Were you fat in high school? You probably still are." -A reader.)
Less joyful is the accurately named site, The Superficial, which presents a world of unnatural scrutiny on the beautiful people, where actual circles are drawn around celebrity pimples. Consider choice headlines such as "Anna Nicole Smith has no friends," "Brandon Davis' grandma is a liar" and, my favorite, "Lindsay Lohan doesn't like being called fire crotch." Check out their self-explanation:
"The Superficial is a brutally honest look at society and its obsession with the superficial. It is not satire. It is not social commentary. It is the voice of our society at its worst. It is first impressions without sense of social obligation. It is the truth of our generation. It is ugly racism. It is jealousy. It is honest.
Just kidding. Our goal is to make fun of as many people as possible."
So, why am I finding all this refreshing? I guess I'm celebrating the fact that other than the 3-5 people who actually read this blog, the world fails to note my romantic blunders (sounds more cuddly than 'epic failures,' doesn't it?) or the acreage of cellulite quickly grabbing real estate on my thighs or the fact that I just henna-ed my hair and accidentally dyed half of my forehead orange.
Yes, indeed. Times like these, it pays to be a lowly nobody.