Room for Squares, Not Bimbos

"So, according to the wire, it's over," my husband said as I answered his phone call.

"Yeah, I know! I have four or five e-mails I read just before you called. I guess I really made an impression on you guys with my John Mayer rant, huh?"

"I think," he replied, "it was the noose hanging from our bedroom ceiling that alarmed me the most."

That's the quote from my husband's camp. Here's the quote from John's:


"A source from Mayer's camp told Us Weekly that the relationship 'was a 2 her camp spun into an 11.' Mayer has supposedly lost a lot of respect for his brief fling and 'now he will stay away from her. He thinks it's desperate. An attempt for her to stay in the spotlight."

I don't know what I love best about this: (a) That it's over, (b) this doctored photo of Us Weekly announcing the news,

or (c) that I was right about John Mayer all along. I KNEW he was too soulful to dip in that shallow pool.

Now the question is, do I replace Angelina with Julian?


She, who pussy whipped Brad Pitt, wed in a t-shirt covered in her man's blood, and says her dad needs therapy?

(another shameless excuse to post Julian McMahon's naked ass on my blog)

Or he, who hails from Australia, shows his ass unabashedly, and is going to play a character exploring his sexuality on this season's Nip/Tuck?

Decisions, decisions. Not. Welcome to my Top Three, Julian.





This is Funky, and that is all.