Shit Talk about Shit-Talkers

Go right ahead and surmise that I’m a flighty, uncomplicated dolt because I love celebrity gossip. Fell free to tell me I’m contributing to the problem by bolstering TMZ’s numbers, daily. Yes, dear reader, guilty as charged.

And I gotta admit: part of my gossip website addiction has to do with hating on the people who run them. Shall we…

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Not Getting the Twilight Hotness

This is not going to be some missive about Twilight sucking or  Stephanie Myers being the reigning queen of cheese-tastic storytelling. I mean, the last PG, sci-fi romances I saw were “Teen Wolf” and “Teen Witch”. I’m a little too old for Twilight and haven’t seen a one. I’ve got no right commenting on the quality of the franchise.

But I don’t live under a rock, am fully aware of the Twilight superstars and ain’t about to feign ignorance. (Really people, the “Who?” comments on entertainment blogs are getting really tiresome. #nolongerclever.)

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Personal Vexation #1: Facebook

Not a fan of Facebook. It’s probably because I’m more comfortable on the cranky side of the street. Hey look, what the kid has built is impressive. Props genuinely granted on that front. Woo hoo! Go Zucks! (OK? Can we forget the inevitable accusations of  “you’re just jealous!”)

Here’s the thing though, Facebook is…oh hell, I don’t have a clever metaphor for the social networking behemoth, I just know it irks me.

Here’s why:

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Passing On the Lisa Vanderpump Love Train

Most of us can probably concur that TV real estate agents, perky HR managers and safe comics (think Jay Leno) can irk. But how many of you can agree that:

1) There’s something shady about Sandra Bullock.

2) Anne Hathaway is an irritating brown noser (though, after the Oscars, a few more may have switched to Team Too Perky ).

3) The hype over those Twilight kids is perplexing.

See, you think I suck.

My latest diversion from popular opinion involves Lisa Vanderpump of Real Housewives fame.

I get it, most of you love the Dynasty throwback and her dog-accessory. But I gotta fess up, Lisa didn’t dazzle for me. And I ain’t buying the Mother Theresa in a Mansion act.

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