Arr!

How much better would this photo be if Bristol was a Sexy Pirate?

From Huff Po

"You Want To Be With A Winner."

The most Hunter S. Thompson thing I've read this election season is a story in the Nov. issue of GQ (the one with the kinda annoying Jimmy Kimmel cover) called "Hack: Confessions of a Presidential Campaign Reporter" by Michael Hastings.

On the campaign trail:

"The reality is: I quickly realized Rudy was a maniac. I had a recurring fantasy in which I took him out during a press conference (it was nonlethal, just something that put him out of commission for a year or so), saving America from the horror of a President Giuliani. If that sounds like I had some trouble being 'objective,' I did. Objectivity is a fallacy. In campaign reporting more than any other kind of press coverage, reporters aren’t just covering a story, they’re a part of it—influencing outcomes, setting expectations, framing candidates—and despite what they tell themselves, it’s impossible to both be a part of the action and report on it objectively. In some cases, you genuinely like the candidate you’re covering and you root for him, because over the long haul you come to see him as a human being. For a long time, this was John McCain’s ace in the hole with the press, whom he referred to as “my base.” Reporters rode along with him, and he joked with them, and that went a long way toward shaping the tone of their coverage. (Last January a group of reporters asked McCain’s staff to make McCain campaign press T-shirts for them.) And because your success is linked to the candidate’s, you want to be with a winner, because that’s the story that makes the paper or the magazine or gets you on TV."

Hunter S. Thompson in 1971, by way of guardian.co.uk. Chic.
And on time with the Clinton crew:

"I thought it might be better jumping over to the Democrats; at least I wasn’t appalled by their basic ideas. But Hillary Clinton’s campaign was killing me. I could feel my soul die a little more with each cigarette break I took, each prepackaged meal I stuffed into my face. I couldn’t stop eating when I was with her, and there was always food available. On most days, we took three to five flights, and each flight, no matter how short, had a catered meal. The campaigns charge reporters for all travel (the cost runs from $1,000 to $3,000 per day, per reporter), and catering is included in that price. Then there is food served at each event—pizza, sandwiches, celery, carrots, broccoli, bowl upon bowl of ranch dip, baskets of candy and chips. In part I felt obligated to eat every fucking thing in front of me, since it costs enough. But there was also a feeling that you were in a Gulag on wheels. Everyone traveling with the campaigns is completely dependent on them for food and transportation and shelter—not to mention any little interview crumb they toss our way, any remotely intriguing piece of information. Political reporting is founded on very dysfunctional relationships. You need them and they need you, but on some level they hate and distrust you (and on some level you, too, hate and distrust them), and in my experience a lot of that gets sublimated into food. Eat, hoard, scrounge, because you never know if they’ll give you anything more."

Note To Self

Can we get some more Norm MacDonald clips up on YouTube, American public? Because watching this weekend's SNL, I realized how much I loved him/miss him. And this just isn't cutting it.

And, PS: I also realized that there is a whole generation of kids who doesn't know the origin of "note to self." Think about it.

Cindy! Cindy! Cindy!

And not McCain: Miss Crawford is in Nov. issue of Vogue Paris. HOT. And I luuurve the shocking pink. B and I took a fashion class in high school, and one of the exercises was to do this color chart testing thingy where we held fabric swatches up to our faces to see what shades look best on us. Shocking pink was one of my hues. As was ice blue.





Photos from Eye4Style

Puppy Halloween!

YOU GUYS. NYMag.com has an amazing slideshow of doggies dressed up for Halloween. The best (of many):





This reminds me of the time C, D, and I saw the pup dressed as a duck at a soccer game. I will take that memory with me to my grave. It also reminds me of when The Colbert Report showed photos of Henry Pawson and Ben Bunnake and I died. The clip:

So Fitting It's Depressing

I stumbled upon this card at Someecards this AM...

...After I had tracked the status of the FedEx shipment of my costumed, informed P and D of the status, and called the mail room to make sure I got the box as soon as it arrived. Lame. L-A-M-E.

But, thank f-ing god, my costume has arrived. There was a lot of drama leading up to this, namely that my first order GOT LOST IN THE MAIL. Now, I'm going of this version of Suri.

From DlistedAnd don't even think I didn't consider trying to get my paws on a lil' Hermes bag.

The Oscar SLASH Oval Office Hunt

A commenter over at Defamer today wrote a response to a post about whether The Dark Knight or Wall-E have a better shot at taking home best picture in, oh, four months from the big summer blockbuster category. And it blew my f-ing mind. (How did I end up reading this business? Yah. GREAT question. It was obv a busy day.) Onto the comment:

Weird theory.
McCain wins? Batman Returns.
Obama wins? Wall-E.

Ok, let's just go ahead and take this further cause now I'm obsessed. There is a bananas town case to be made that these candidates (and their campaigns)—the big FALL blockbusters, if you will—basically ARE these movies (and their main characters).

THE DARK KNIGHT and JOHN MCCAIN'S CAMPAIGN:
-Both leading men are heroes with loonnnng histories.
-Expectations were incredibly high, but the last minutes/days were a letdown and kinda ruined the enjoyment factor of the whole shebang.
-No one could get enough of the coverage, especially after the 11th hour tragedy of the key supporting character.
-The critics called them "dark, complex and unforgettable."
-In the end, we pretty much got what we expect of this stuff.

WALL-E and BARACK OBAMA'S CAMPAIGN:
-Both appealed to the kids right away and then, surprisingly, wooed the grown-ups.
-The leading men seek out new sources of energy, adopt whatever technology they come across, and came onto the scene outta nowhere and with little experience.
-They were whipped into shape by outspoken, alpha-females.
-The stars remind us of super-duper iconic players in their worlds (Charlie Chaplin, JFK).
-The critics described them as "charming, audacious, and timely."

Guess which movie I talked about for, oh, three months? Yah, saw Wall-E twice. And will buy it on DVD. Because I love that sweet little robot with the emotional, wobbly eyes. Let's just pretend that DK didn't make twice as much at the box office. Sad face.

Movie stills from Indiewire