Weep, my friends, WEEP for the sad state of affairs that have become the way of life for aging supermodel Paulina Porizkova! No longer hot enough to spontaneously combust, she must bear the leaden weight of shame for being eliminated from “Dancing With The Stars” and the unbearable humiliation of not being recognized by the FedEx guy. O tempora! O mores!
Worst of all, she must drag around her formerly unspeakably hot-hot-OMFGHOTTT!!!1!!eleven self from one lame celebrity event to another, feeding off the crumbs of attention left over after the paparazzi feeding frenzies over such luscious younger women as Kim Kardashian and that big-titted red-head from “Mad Men”.
And this….THIS…my friends is the hideous, wizened visage she must face every single day in her cracked and formerly enchanted magic mirror:
(that tiny little screeching noise you hear is the smallest violin in the universe playing a lament for her)
Dear Harvey, Pete, Barry, Kevin, and every other weathermonkey on Boston-area TV: Enough is enough. The fucking blizzard was THIRTY-TWO YEARS AGO. It’s time to stop trotting out the same blurry videotape of cars stuck on Rt. 128 that is older than some of the people who are actually on your broadcast, just so we [...]
It’s going to be a long two months waiting for the iPad to actually ship so that all the tech bloggers and their hangers-on will stop writing so much speculative bullshit about iT and turn their attention iNstead to some other thing that’s going to Change Life As We Know iT. Since you cannot click [...]
Please, please, PUH-LEEZE stop talking about “What do we call the last decade?” Nobody could come up with an acceptable choice ten years ago, and nobody’s going to come up with one now. “Aughties” and “Naughties” are contrived and stupid, and so is the very idea that anything wraps up all nice and neatly into [...]
I couldn’t tell from her column whether she might possibly be poking fun at herself … or maybe I was just hoping.
It’s as if she realizes just how ridiculous it all is but can’t quite manage to separate herself from it. In the end, I felt, she succumbed to the “But I’m a celebrity!” impulse.
If she was wearing a swan she’d look a little like Björk.