Saturday, January 8th, 2011

radiumgirl: (chew your food)
 My brother and I hung out with Owen and his sister last night. We watched Inglorious Basterds which I really liked despite my general apathy towards Quentin Tarantino films. I commented on Brad Pitt looking hella-old and wondered if it was just the make up. Owen said it was probably a combination of the make up and the fact that Brad Pitt is pushing fifty.

"Brad Pitt is not pushing fifty." I said, "He's America's heartthrob."

"No." Owen corrected, "He was America's heartthrob. In 1998."

"You're a lying liar who lies." I said, and went back to watching Eli Roth scalp Nazis.

My brother banged on my door this morning to wake me up because my alarm clock is deader than dead, and when I threw a pillow at him and called him a dickbomb, he kicked my mattress and said, "Oh. And I looked it up. Brad Pitt's forty-seven. That's pushing fifty."

And I wept.

I dragged ass into the shower and shut the door. Just as the water started heating up, Chuck banged on the door and sing-songed, "And Leonardo DiCaprio is almost forty!"

The rest of my shower was quick and quiet. I was drying my hair when Chuck poked his head in the door and motioned for me to turn off the hair-dryer.

"Brian was your favorite Backstreet Boy, right?"

Let the record show that Chuck is only two years younger than me, dammit. 

June 2011

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