Freedom fire freedom. Liberty liberty freedom freedom, freedom, freedom's freedom, freedom, liberty. Liberty freedom freedom liberty liberty, freedom God freedom's freedom fire fire fire freedom freedom. Liberty, liberty. Freedom, liberty freedom freedom, freedom, liberty freedom freedom? Freedom. Freedom freedom. God freedom liberty, freedom liberty liberty. Liberty liberty freedom. God. T.C.
We'll raise a glass to the death of the so-called Mrs. T-shirt. The fad allegedly began when Victoria “Posh Spice” Adams (who still holds tabloid currency in the U.K.) was snapped in a “Mrs. Beckham” tee, branding herself with the surname of her soccer star husband. Soon after, Britney donned a “Mrs. Federline” shirt over her toothsome frame. A boon of commercially available spinoffs (most of which appear curiously in Old English font) appeared overnight. “Mrs. Kutcher,” “Mrs. Affleck,” and — our favorite, since he's nearing 50 — “Mrs. Clooney” decorated everything from “boy beaters” to handbags. Though a handful of year-end fashion columnists wishfully bid adieu to the tacky blight, we knew “Mrs. clothing” had bottomed out when we passed the discount rack in the Stonestown Macy's junior's department. There: “Mrs. Pitt” across the derrière of a pair of underpants — for the low, low price of $1.99. N.C.
Damn Marty Beckerman for being so young and successful. The 21-year-old Alaskan has published two books of scathing humor-cum-social commentary and has another on the way. HBO is turning his second book, Generation S.L.U.T. (sexually liberated urban teens): A Brutal Feel-Up Session with Today's Sex-Crazed Adolescent Populace, into a movie. Damn us for thinking that might be a good idea. Although Beckerman calls himself a journalist, he practices a gonzo style that blurs fact and fiction. It's often the author's “sweaty Jewish palms” or “naked Jewish torso” that advance the action. Beckerman is reckless, onanistic, and indulgent on an Eggers-ian scale. He's also a sick, funny little fucking motherfucker. His Web site, www.martybeckerman.com, features curse-laden excerpts of his misadventures in Generation Y depravity, including “My Make-Out Session with Watermelon Tits” and “My Unforgettable (Almost) Prom Date with a Dirty Rotten Whore.” Damn it all to hell. The kid might actually have something. L.O.
Five words: Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper. N.C.