It’s August, celebs. Shouldn’t you be on vacation somewhere, not starring in a sex tape (oh, excuse me, a nude tape) or doing sketchy stuff?
But we wouldn’t have much to blog about if you didn’t act a fool, so…thanks, we guess. (Even though the summer days are waning and some of us still have pasty skin lit only by the glare of our laptop screens.) Check out what we’ve been up to:
- We dated women.
- We had rough sex, too. (Choking!)
- We Googled our dates and their email addresses.
- We surprised ourselves by having the post-wedding blues.
- We talked about whether facials are demeaning. No, not the kind of facials they do at Bliss Spa.
- We listed the things our boobs can do for us (other than look damn fine in a tight sweater).
- We anxiously awaited a possible Levi Johnston jerkoff video.
- We wondered what Jay-Z smells like, and Oprah Winfrey—knower of all that is known, seer of all that is seen—told us.
- We puked when we saw a PETA advertisement depicting a larger-sized women that read “Save the Whales! Lose the Blubber: Go Vegetarian.”
- We freaked out because our first love got married (to someone other than us).
- We wished people didn’t make such a big deal about little girls who wear bikinis.
- We took it outside to settle whether or not sweaty sex is gross or hot.
- We interviewed J. Courtney Sullivan, the author of this summer’s new hot novel, Commencement, which Amelia is reading and says is great!
- And last but not least, we wondered if we should tell our significant other what our number is.
