Candy Review!

I am currently killing a bag of Russell Stover's Net Carb Peanut Butter Cups, aka "Imitation of Christ." Now, I like Russell Stover. I like him even more since he divorced Kimora. But these sugarless PB cups are so totally busted compared to the Reese's variety. I appreciate that Russell recognized the demand for low-carb treats that approximate their decadent cousins, but wow-- these taste like pool chalk. The chocolate is Sad City and the peanut butter is Shame Gulch. Nevertheless, I will be probably purchasing these again.

Did I mention they give me gut-rot? Stabbing pains?

Look, Barnabas got a new T-shirt. Every time I see a photo of us together, it looks as if I'm grasping him cruelly in my giant, unyielding claw. I assure you that I'm very gentle. He is, after all, my little green bean.

So, the Golden Globes. I thought Reese looked hot-- all angular and shit, like the electric pencil sharpener of life just ejected her with a dry sputter. I like 'em hard. Hilary Swank was cute, and I like that she's an agentfucker. As for Sienna Miller, I liked her shiny-faced Heidi-hipster look because she stood out in a crowd of heavily powdered, impeccably coiffed MAC chicks. Angelina is perfect, though I miss when she used to get her tits out. America Ferrera was so cute--she looked like she was at the prom. (Remember those off-the-shoulder Jessica McClintock dresses we all had in 1994?)

Obviously, I'm biased, but I think Thank You For Smoking should have won in the absurd category of Best Picture: Musical or Comedy. Dreamgirls was entertaining, but not best-picture good. Eddie Murphy deserved his Globe, but he seemed bored and pompous during his speech.

All in all, it was fun to watch (JUSTIN!) but I'm eagerly awaiting the Oscars.