Dear Jessica Simpson,

You covering Nancy Sinatra is bad enough; you covering Nancy Sinatra's These Boots Are Made For Walking, and turning it into a cheesy country pop song while you gyrate your faux glistened body all over the General Lee? Is grounds for a horrible, painful DEATH. I don't care if you have Willie Nelson in the video. He's cool enough to get away with being a part of this horror show; you're not.

Please shut the fuck UP already.

Jesus Christ, leave! Love,

Minette


Why is my TV showing me a bunch of attitude-y skanks who are singing about being hotter than your girlfriend and encouraging stupid men to leave their loving SOs for a night of cheap, sleazy sex with girls who wear leopard bras? And they're called the Pussycat Dolls. Right. My eyes are rolling so hard, they're on the other side of the room. And Busta Rhymes is in this! Why, Busta, WHY?!!

In less ranty news, Nicholas Brendon has his own audioblog, and he is so adorable, I could just eat him up with a spoon. He says "anyhoo" and "byebye" and talks about his muscles, and he sounds exactly like my little brother, which makes me giggle until I ache.

I am easily amused. I know.

Now to go spend eight hours in a paralyzing brain freeze when I really just want to be sleeping. I hate Saturdays.