Monday, November 25, 2002
And you have the nerve to call me “lady”?!?
I know it’s just a matter of time until Julianne Moore finds my blog and decides to be my new best friend. We’ll have lots of fun making home-made video paradies of her Revlon commercials in which we take turns whipping our heads around, causing our long-tressed wigs to fan out and gleam while we speak in Patrician accents about skin tone. I will do my best Julianne impression-circa-Short-Cuts, standing naked at an ironing board, which will make her porcelin skin turn bright red as she shakes uncontrollably with laughter. When she wins the Oscar next spring she’ll forget to mention her husband but will, undoubtedly, thank Michael McAllister for the laughter and the inspiration. Everyone in the film industry will then google-search my name the next morning, find my blog, and beg me for screen rights. I’ll let Leonardo take me out for sushi where he’ll grill me about my feelings. Unfortunately for him I’ll insist on playing myself in the film version of my life, which will then prompt every closet case in Hollywood to proclaim their sexuality because they see how well it worked for me.
