Cole, Erin, Connie and I attended the Cat Show at MSG today, and I’m considering buying an exotic / hybrid domestic-wild cat. Servals are cute and freaky looking with their painterly ears, but I’m obsessed with how baby Caracals sound like birds when they are kittens (as heard below). A caracal is a wild cat native to Africa and the Middle East and is not illegal to keep as a domestic pet in some states. I am afraid of the baby bird caracals growing up and subsequently viewing our other cats as walking hot-dogs-on-a-stick, though, so I should probably let my pet wish go unfulfilled.
I cannot stop watching the Beyonce “Single Ladies” video. I think it is brilliant they used Bob Fosse choreography and put her in a weird A Chorus Line leotard with a robocop hand. I wore that exact outfit in soho yesterday but then I had to buy a coat. because it was cold, jerks.
I clearly don’t have to tell you how thrilled we should all be that Colin Powell endorsed The Senator. Saw Oliver Stone’s W. this weekend and it wasn’t funny. Brolin is obviously getting the Oscar. Thandie Newton as Condi should get Best Supporting–she had like four lines but it was all in her eyes. Still cannot get over the fact that we have an oedipal bio / historical faction/farce about a sitting president. Even if it is Georgie. Still shocking. I find it very telling, wholly indicative of how much dignity was stripped from the office in the last eight years. Even Bill Clinton’s errant weiner couldn’t have dreamed this far down the rabbit hole. (Also, our country during Bill’s cigar-a-thon could have taken a cue from lusty-ass President Sarkozy and his polyamourous wife Carla Bruni–i.e. PEOPLE HAVE SEX AND SOME PEOPLE ARE FREAKS, EVEN THE PRESIDENT, BIG FUCKING DEAL. Or to use an example closer to home, look at New York’s awesome New York governor D. Patterson who, after Elliott Spitzer stupidly decided to have an affair with A PROSTITUTE, immediately admitted every single thing he’d ever done before he signed himself into office after Spitzer got sent away to a batcave in Westchester–affairs, weed, then cocaine when he thought weed was too boring, insanely gymnastic dances to overcompensate for his blindness at discos, etc. Whatever, it was the 1970s in New York! Get over it! Then again, we have Edwards, who was pretty stupid but mostly tacky considering his wife’s whole FIGHTING CANCER. Like, people, if you are going to step out, at least wait until your spouse is in sighting distance of remission. It’s a whole other level of common decency. I DIGRESS!)