Spoilers from this episode below:

(Continued)

Matt: Like, you know how I was supposed to write an essay today?
Erin: Yup
Matt: I did not have the book yet.
Matt: So I went to the bookstore.
Matt: And guess what happened!
Erin: It wasnt there!
Matt: Out of stock!
Erin: Oh no!
Matt: I know!
Matt: So then I went to see if the LIBRARY had it!
Matt: And guess what?
Erin: It wasnt there!
Matt: It wasn’t!
Erin: Oh no!
Matt: So then I was like FUCK.
Matt: Because FUCK.
Erin: FUCK
Matt: FUCK.
Erin: FUCK!
Erin: I have decided “fuck” is the most fun word ever.
Erin: But continue your story.

It’s Sunday! This means I feel far too lazy to actually do anything, including for this site. But I must. Part of being on a team means you share responsibilities, triumphs and defeats. (This means I have to write the weekend write up this weekend). This week’s news was bizarre, filled with highs and lows and questionable accounts.

I was going to rant about Paris Hilton, as anyone should when she makes the news, but Matt did that quite nicely yesterday, so onwards we go.

Below are some of my favourite things from this week.

(Continued)

BE Something is all about being popular! And nothing is more popular than celebrity gossip. People love it! They love to talk about Lindsay and Britney and Nicole and all of those other people who are, abjectly, objectively, undeniably stupid. And I don’t even believe that we just think that because of a warped and perverted media that distorts the truth. These girls who check in and out of rehab, pass around blank-looking, gel-haired guys like they they would joints and get caught driving the wrong way on the goddamn highway are nothing more than circus acts for the 21st century. There’s little difference between logging on to the internet to see the latest Britney-without-panties photo and visiting a Victorian fair to see a bearded lady, a boy with lobster hands or a giant drugged-up grizzly bear swaying slowly to music as his Russian handler smokes a cigar and whips him with a chain.

“But,” the defense goes, “these girls are doing the same thing that so many other girls their age do! And nobody cares about them!” And, well, yes, that’s true. But those girls are abjectly, objectively and undeniably stupid too. They just never acted in Herbie: Fully Loaded, recorded Toxic or… did whatever Nicole Ritchie is famous for doing, so nobody cares about them. Same stupidity, different level of relevance.

But Paris Hilton is almost an anomaly in this great big world of stupid-girls-in-sunglasses. If Lindsay is the bearded lady, Britney the boy with lobster hands and Nicole the drunken dancing grizzly bear, Paris is something else entirely — something far more sinister. While the other acts are showcased in plain sight, Paris is squirreled away in her own tent, with a line-up stretching past the other cages and near the ferris wheel. She’s got her own handler with a megaphone, shouting every minute about the opportunity to see her. And he has a cane and a top hat and, also, there is a sign, saying exactly what he’s saying, in seventeen different languages: “Inside, see the Ugliest Woman in the World.”

Which I guess is what makes her storage locker so fascinating.

(Continued)

I am distraught about the fact NBC has no new episodes on tonight. I was excited for their “Comedy Night Done Right.” Earl and The Office always deliver, 30 Rock is getting consistently good and even when Scrubs is bad, you can reminisce about the times when it was good.

But it is all reruns which means I have to write about something else.

This semester, I took up squash. It wasn’t a resolution or even an active choice. My friend Christina asked me one day, “Do you want to play squash sometime?” I had only played a couple times before, and it didn’t seem so bad- you hit a ball against a wall and there isn’t a lot of moving. But there was no real reason to say no. So I said yes.

(Continued)