The soul has greater need of the ideal than the real for it is by the real that we exist, it is by the ideal that we live

Monday, May 24, 2010

Bitchfight at Sharon and Ozzy's!! Well, almost.

Not up to snuff today.  A co-worker graciously shared their cold with me.  Would that homicide were legal.

Though we're engaged in fights on several fronts, for employment rights, for marriage rights, for civil rights, we're still not past the petty little shittiness that so easily earns us the title drama queen. 

Dustin Black, and Perez Hilton are still at odds over the Black sex pics Hilton published a while back. 

First of all what kind of idiot who aspires to the public eye would allow a naked photo be taken of them knowing how this culture reacts? Should Black have immediately come out at the time and said, "Yeah someone I had intimate relations with at some point took pictures of me. yeah the turned out not to be a very nice person and they released them to the public.  Why should that be a big deal?"  Instead he says "oops forgot my raincoat sorry, you should do better though." 

But no Black ran and hid in the closet like a quivering little queen and hence it's a THING.  Hilton, ( now there's a case for lynching if ever I saw one) gets the scoop and no challenge so he wins.

Stupid bitchfight between two men, at least one of whom should know better.

And the rest of us get to live with it.   

Thanks guys.

I am reminded of the remark that reportedly brought about the demise of Truman Capote's relationship with
Lee Radziwell.

Her break with Truman Capote was dramatic. Lee refused to testify on Truman's behalf when Gore Vidal sued him for libel (Truman had repeated a story Lee told him about Gore in an interview in "Playgirl," and Gore took offense).
Truman asked Liz Smith to convince Lee to testify in his behalf; Liz contacted Lee, who said "does it matter Liz? They're just a pair of fags."
Pissed off, Truman when on The Stanley Siegel show drunk and repeated all of the stories Lee had told him about her previous boyfriends. They never spoke again. 

Well the birfday social whirl has started, illness notwithstanding.

Today it's a lunch with friends, tomorrow dinner with the ex, wednesday dinner at the nephews, thursday lunch at the museum, friday it's horses and a picnic, then saturday it's a barbecue. 

Such a butterfly. 

And so it goes:

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