This week is kind of exhausting to think about! So much happened, and so little of it was good.
- Oddball South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford disappeared to Argentina and then he revealed that he'd slept with a lady and then we all read his emails to the lady and then we learned her name.
- Anderson Cooper didn't come out and MSNBC got all dirty.
- We finally successfully non-ambushed Fox News but for some reason that didn't stop them from being just horrible all the time.
- Speaking of horrible all the time! Neda, the face of the Iranian Revolution, remained the single most depressing story of the month.
- And also speaking of horrible all the time! Perez Hilton got punched in the face for calling someone a "faggot," and while we are basically straight-up pacifists who believe that violence is never justified, that does not change the fact that the vile little prick brought this on himself, entirely, by being a miserable excuse for a human being.
- The Hamptons suck.
- Transformers sucks.
- Twitter sucks.
- People who post pretend non-paying media ads on Craigslist with poncey little "riddles" suck the most.
- Eh, this Tumblr book deal we are not so much worked up about.
- Who knew there was actually anything interesting about the people who invented Facebook? Well, interesting in a "made-up" way.
- America's new favorite game is Let's Humiliate Ruth Madoff. It is, to be fair, less risky than America's previous favorite game, "Let's Invest All Our Money With Bernie Madoff."
- Ok. Elisabeth Hasselbeck stole a book and Real Housewife Danielle "tested" cocaine. And we investigated What It Means that some kid who decided to be on a TV show is probably A Gay. And Richard watched that TV show! Boy, did he fucking ever. And then he watched The Real World and then MTV finally caved in and killed them all.
- One upon a time, a little boy tried to give a scary witch a magical flower, but she ran away, and the little boy was lost. But the Internet found him! He lived in a hallowed-out tree trunk, in England, with Lady GaGa. He was not sad about the mean witch, because he would rather meet Katy Perry.
- Michael Jackson, quite possibly the weirdest and most talented motherfucker on the planet, died this week. He was 50. And weird. This provided opportunities for more asking-for-it behavior from Perez Hilton, po-faced investigations into the national mood, and, of course, nonstop news coverage of salacious tabloid details. He will be missed, because for some reason everyone kinda thought there was maybe a chance he'd eventually get some small amount of his shit back together enough for him to produce good music, again. It's all pretty fucking sad. And if you think his music will someday overshadow his bizarre life, we'd just like to ask if you know how Elvis died.