LOL Tom Cruise, EL OH EL.

From the Onion interview with Bronson Pinchot:

We didn’t know it was going to be a big hit. We thought Tom [Cruise] was the biggest bore on the face of the Earth. He had spent some formative time with Sean Penn—we were all very young at the time, Tom was 20, I was 23. Tom had picked up this knack of calling everyone by their character names, because that would probably make your performance better, and I don’t agree with that. I think that acting is acting, and the rest of the time, you should be you, but he called us all by our character names. He was tense and made constant, constant unrelated homophobic comments, like, “You want some ice cream, in case there are no gay people there?” I mean, his lingo was larded with the most… There was no basis for it. It was like, “It’s a nice day, I’m glad there are no gay people standing here.” Very, very strange.

UHHHHHH,

“You want some ice cream, in case there are no gay people there?”

TOM CRUISE CAN'T EVEN MAKE HOMOPHOBIA MAKE SENSE. I mean, it can't be that hard. Dumb rednecks get it right all the time. I'm beginning to think Tom Cruise might be some kind of Dadaist art project. Someone get him to buy me a Snuggie and a bag of peanuts. I bet it's possible, you guys!

Crawling into empty chicken buckets left and right.

How To Write A Modern Love Column.

My Boyfriend

My boyfriend is a rabble-rousin' son of a gun. I mean, literally, he is a son of a gun. You're probably all like, how is this possible? Well, stop, because I'll shoot you.

Betty Gives The Most Perfect American Men's Magazine Interview EVER

January Jones outfoxes even Megan Fox's I-fell-in-love-with-a-stripper attempt in successful pandering to red-blooded American menfolk in in the latest issue of the GQ. When a blow up doll falls in love with a stripper, it's sexy, sure, but also obvious? Overwrought? TRYING TOO HARD? Our Betty doll does one better-- she enthuses about downing 27 beers in one night, downs at least six with the interviewer, and effing takes him to Chili's. Tell me you are not in love:

January wants to go to the Chili’s near the H Gates. She loves the queso there. Loves it even though it doesn’t always come in one of those little cast-iron skillets like at regular Chili’s and they don’t have a “red beer” (beer and tomato juice) here like she’s seen at the franchise’s other midwestern outlets. It doesn’t matter that the place is noisy and crowded and the only TV is tucked way up behind the bar and she probably won’t be able to catch the last preseason Bears game. The queso’s that good.

One minor dispute: Chili's queso really isn't that good. The apps to choose from at Chili's are the Boneless Buffalo Wings (operative word: boneless) and the Texas Cheese Fries. But I won't be able to make the final decision for you. Asking me to choose between wings and cheese fries is like asking me to choose which breast I cherish most. They both hover too close to the heart.

Then again, apparently the queso cals go straight to the breasticles. So.....