Reblogging Julia

Water is a hell of a drug.

Oh, Christ, it is late, I have been drinking (water, of course, not THAT kind of drinking, you fucking dirty drunks) and there is just too much dumb to parse.   ONWARD:

• Did I mention she was the hot one?   Beware the kryptonite, Meghan. It stinks like garlic.
• It is truly unimaginable that a girl who would place a personal ad for a booty call at her dad’s college reunion, and whose mother is ostensibly her best editor for her dating columns, would be so positively,and utterly traumatized by watching, in the presence of her parents, a Broadway show that refers to sex.  It is almost as if you live in a world that perceives no consequence of your own actions. 
• It is also mind blowing that anyone pays you to write a column about dating, since you clearly don’t have the slightest clue about dating.  You don’t date, you attempt to co-brand, and to bolster your fledgling social profile.  Spectacularly unsuccessfully.
• You weren’t a good writer then, if it helps.  You still talked about (and posted pictures of) yourself when you were charged with reporting on others.   But I do tend to agree that your best days are behind you.
• This is just an ongoing cry for help.  You need to ask the internet where to dine in NYC, even though you project to be in the know?  Cringe-worthy, and that is a bold statement where your blog is concerned.
• Too incredibly boring to blog.   One would almost think you were too concerned with enhancing your father’s experience to take pictures of yourself.  Those “ones” don’t follow your blog.  The regulars know that if there isn’t a picture of you pursing your lips to commemorate the occasion?  It simply didn’t happen.