After the Oscars, Duana, Kathleen, and I got together in Kathleen’s room at the hotel to put together the list of all the celebrities we’d be writing about. After that, we figure out the assignments, who’s writing who, and after that, we map out the order of posting. Then we start writing, surrounded by snacks. Duana mainlines coffee. She’s also the one who talks the most, interrupting the silence with an outburst about anything fromHamiltonto cocktail onions. About an hour into the work, Duana exploded:
OH F-CK OFF, JARED LETO.
I look up. Kathleen looks up.
Me: Show me right now.
Duana turns her laptop around. It’s this photo:
Me & Kathleen: OH F-CK OFF,杰瑞德莱托.
So we put him on the list. And then decided his ass could wait until Tuesday.
This is how you dress like a total f-cking asshole. By unbuttoning your shirt strategically to your second abdominal muscle, for no goddamn reason, and swanning around in a red velvet jacket with a scarf hung around your neck.
So he thinks he’s a Bee Gee now.
Here’s theThird Best Jokerand the Bee Gee no one asked for posing with Drake. Points docked on Drake.
