SEATTLE, Washington Hillary, Obama, Edwards: it matters not. No one can save us now.
Tonight I discovered a game on my cheapo cell, affectionately nicknamed the "Barbie phone" for its vapid teenybopper graphics and Malibu-beach-house-quality plastics.
Strip poker. Animated strip poker.
"I'll bet some clothes for $150," Hayley purrs, before the 30-second demo expires. The rights-reserved screen gets more airtime than the bimbo. Sheesh.
The Yank star, clearly, has supernova-ed. The riders of the Apocalypse are nigh. Personally, I'm blaming Dubya for overall erosion of style, morals and morale. But strictly speaking it's a Virgin mobile, so we really should tar and feather impresario Richard Branson.
He'd better hope his next stunt-balloon crashes nowhere near the Emerald City ... I'd wipe that super-sized grin off his gob quick-sharp.