TGIF, kids. Yes, it's Friday, and that means the new column and the Kink Calendar are up. Enjoy.
Time-Wasting Link of the Day: Now, I'm not a celebrity-watcher. In fact, I'm not at all pop-culture savvy when it comes to TV and movie stars. Not only have I never seen an espisode of "Desperate Housewives" or "American Idol", I honestly can't even remember the last time Max and I turned on our TV. It may have been to watch the presidential debates last November. I do see TV shows when I'm at the gym, so there's that. But I frequently have no idea what they are, unless they feature someone immediately recognizable, like Oprah or that idiot remora of hers, 'Doctor' Phil.
I only go to movies occasionally, because I'm just too bloody busy. (Although Sin City was great, so I'm glad Roman made me go see it with him.)
I admit to reading People magazine in the grocery store checkout line, but I never actually buy it. So 90% of my information about movies stars and such comes from reading stuff online. And I don't spend a lot time doing that.
However, I am a female creature, and as such, I do sometimes have...a catty streak. That's why this site delights me so. After all, I am a high-ranking officer in the local fashion police. And it's human nature: slagging celebrities off about their fashion mistakes lets us indulge our vicious side without guilt, because hey, when you're famous, having strangers tear you to shreds in absentia is part of the job description.
(Yes, I know what you're thinking: But Matisse, don't you already get to be vicious? Shut up. Yes, I often do, but this is a different brand of nastiness. And it's fun.)