March 31, 2005

The tabloids have been piling up with but an occasional peek as I have been awash in a tsunami of irony. Whoever said it was dead was WAY off base. First it was fashion week, where the aforementioned emperor’s new clothes were anything but. Much as I love the pouf dress (or anything called pouf), it was perfected in 1957 - and not improved upon since. This was followed by The Oscars, that uptight corporate event which can be absent-mindedly perused while downloading internet porn. (Unlike The Golden Globe Awards, where everybody is drinking at, and sometimes under, tables and have to be watched as intently as one might, say, the inevitably mentioned movie of "Valley of the Dolls"...)