The internet was spectacular yesterday. Within moments of the photos of the Olsen twin and Nicole Richie party showing up on the internet, everyone's rss readers and chat windows lit up like a Soundgarden show in 1993. Seconds before it exploded, I emailed my online muse, Spencer of GoldenFiddle.com, requesting 30,000 words of analysis. Who else could possibly explain this incomprehensible blend of nostalgia and futurism, celebrity and diary, class and style, party and funeral? "It's like art," I said. He delivered this response, the only poetry worthy of our time:
concept-less art, perhaps.
a flannel party? weeeeeeeeak theme!!!
and the madden boy doesn't even oblige.
these pictures are actually reassuring and hilarious
because i think it highlights how uncreative these million dollar babies are.
sure they're cute and carefree and cobrasnake and everyone's having a good time, (where are the adults?)
but they've been rich so long they fucking suck at spending it the right ways.
plastic plates and forks? store bought pinata? no art on the walls, no rugs, no nothing.
just cupcakes candles those retarded oversized wine glasses and the worlds ugliest marble countertop for miles.
that little munchkin olsen is living a permanent freshman year, god bless her her caffeine-addled soul.
she's like some g-rated iggy pop, flopping around, everybody telling her she's so CRAZY!!!!!!!!
funny thing is i have pictures that look EXACTLY like these, too. wasted, flannel shirt unbuttoned, untucked, too many cigarettes in my fingers.
i was 15.
nicole richie has the world fooled with her whole mom-routine.
she's the mastermind here. she's the smartest guy in the room.
she's fucking brilliant if you ask me. that smile is deadly. she's so far ahead of this bunch. she has shit mapped out.
and she may be hoisting a smart water, but it's just to wash down the scripts.
so, where's that new born, anyway?
the dudes are just loving it.
fucking slime-balls that don't even know it.
brody jenner jrs in training.
posing, smiling, lying, networking, being the guys.
they're all 5 steps ahead, too. they know where their night is going.
they've got plans. MK has no plans. she has drugs and sychophants.
what the fuck else does she need?
robert downy jr would laugh in these kids faces.
he'd flip the dinning room table over, call them pathetic and main-line their absinthe.
then he'd call charlie sheen over and they'd piss on the curtains.
i bet every girl in that dining room has had 47 abortions.
the sisterhood of the xanax and dark-colored sweatpants.
the sad part is that mary kate has nothing to return to.
rdj lifted himself out of hollywood hell and got back on the A-list.
the olsens don't have that opportunity. they're never going to be actors again.
they never really were. it's just more of this until something bad happens.