The other half of the credit obviously goes to my goddess of everything Natalie Cole. If anybody owns and wants to sell that two-piece checkered suit Ms. Cole is whipping her hair around in, I know the EXACT song that will be running through my skull while I'm speeding over to buy it.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Look, I've Got Money to Spend in Here!
Although I've harbored a rabid hatred towards six-foot-tall forehead vein Julia Roberts over the years (think of me as Hugh Grant's best friend in Notting Hill, crying and screaming "Don't you see she doesn't give a shit about anybody but her fucking self? Stop giving her chances!"), one thing I need to give her entitled ass half the credit for is whenever and wherever I go shopping - be it the 7-11 or Rodeo Drive, baby - this golden nugget of early nineties love plays through my head:
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Yeah, Julia Roberts can go right to hell. I can't explain it, but I just *hate* that bitch. I hiss like a sun-burnt vampire every time she comes on screen...
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