Lucille Bluth, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lu-cille-Bluth: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lou. Cille. Bluth. She was Lou, plain Lou, in the morning, drinking the first vodka tonic of the day. She was Lucy going in and out of a pill induced slumber. She was Gangy at home. She was Mrs. Bluth on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lucille Bluth.
“A rural Wisconsin man blasted his television set with a shotgun after watching Bristol Palin’s Dancing with the Stars routine, saying he was fed up with politics and Palin wasn’t a very good dancer, according to US court documents.”—
“And, you know, politics aside, the success of Sarah Palin and women like her is good for all women — except, of course, those who will end up, you know, like, paying for their own rape kit ‘n’ stuff. But for everybody else, it’s a win-win. Unless you’re a gay woman who wants to marry your partner of 20 years. Whatever. But for most women, the success of conservative women is good for all of us. Unless you believe in evolution. You know, actually, I take it back. The whole thing’s a disaster.”—
1. Tina Fey may be my favorite person to ever inhabit this planet 2. To be fair, they also edited out another three or so pages that didn’t have to do with rape kits. 3. Just re-read point number 1 4. I really promise to stop talking about Tina Fey so much after tonight. Really. Well, sort of.