Someone came into the library the other day looking for read Mackenzie Phillips' book. I believe if you want to read a book simply to find out the lurid details about someone's incestuous relationship with their father, then the patriot act should actually kick into gear and military officials should be asked to interrogate you.
Whether or not Mackenzie Phillips is telling the truth about her affair with her father is irrelevant as far as I'm concerned. Forget that I find it incredibly suspect that she waited until she ran out of money to shoot up with before divulging the affair. Clearly it didn't damage her enough to prevent her from talking about it on every talk show that will have her.
I think celebrity autobiographies from people who aren't even celebrities is pretty pointless. If you're going to read that, you should be forced to read an actual book as penance--something dense and European.
Part of me also feels like--with the exception of politicians--if you're going to sling mud at somebody, you have to do it while they're alive.
The whole thing just seems really sketchy to me.
But again, none of that matters. All that matters is that I gave that woman in the library the dirtiest look I could drag up from depths of my judgmental soul and said--with pretension dripping from me--
"I wouldn't know where to find something like that, but I'd imagine you want to look in the garbage."
Whether or not Mackenzie Phillips is telling the truth about her affair with her father is irrelevant as far as I'm concerned. Forget that I find it incredibly suspect that she waited until she ran out of money to shoot up with before divulging the affair. Clearly it didn't damage her enough to prevent her from talking about it on every talk show that will have her.
I think celebrity autobiographies from people who aren't even celebrities is pretty pointless. If you're going to read that, you should be forced to read an actual book as penance--something dense and European.
Part of me also feels like--with the exception of politicians--if you're going to sling mud at somebody, you have to do it while they're alive.
The whole thing just seems really sketchy to me.
But again, none of that matters. All that matters is that I gave that woman in the library the dirtiest look I could drag up from depths of my judgmental soul and said--with pretension dripping from me--
"I wouldn't know where to find something like that, but I'd imagine you want to look in the garbage."
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