Archive for August, 2008
Perez Hilton got his hands on a list of compensation-per-episode figures for each main cast member of The Hills.
Lauren Conrad: $75,000 per episode
Heidi Montag: $65,000 per episode
Spencer Pratt: $65,000 per episode
Audrina Patridge: $35,000 per episode
Whitney Port: $20,000 per episode
Brody Jenner: $10,000 per episode
Lauren “Lo” Bosworth: $10,000 per episode
Stephanie Pratt: $8,000 per episode
Apparently the only reason Lauren gets as much as she does is because her contract stipulates that no one be paid more than her. That’s a good move on her lawyer’s part–anyone who watches The Hills and has two brain cells to rub together knows a few things about what the show’s really about.
Lauren is the dullest character/human being ever. The only reason I look forward to seeing her on the show is because I dig her hair.
The only way Lauren could win back my actual non-hair-related interest would be if she decided her intense possessiveness toward her female friends was a product of repressed-till-now homosexuality and ran off to become a cattle rancher in Montana. Think about it, LC: how do you really feel?
Audrina is, in fact, the true female lead (if we’re still counting Heidi as a bad guy and not a protagonist). Between her relationship with that mumbly enigma Justin Bobby and her attempt to fire all engines to get away from Lauren’s
rabid lesbianism fascist friendship, she’s got the most interesting storyline by far. Now if only someone at MTV will spring to correct that mildly lazy eye.
Finally, Spencer Pratt deserves, like, ten million dollars for every minute he appears on screen. Period. Check out this classic bit of dialogue between him and his sister.
Stephanie Pratt: [Holding back tears.] “You’re making me cry right now.”
Spencer Pratt: “You’re making yourself cry, thinking about what you did.”
Zing! Modern Shakespeare right there. I only wish he’d cut that grody flesh-colored beard.
Today was a perfect day to go to the Minnesota State Fair–it was slightly cool and breezy out, which made navigating through the throngs way more tolerable than normal. I haven’t been since high school! Kenyon’s been out to dilute my essential Minnesotaness since I was a freshman. UNTIL NOW. HA HA HA, SUCKERS.
So, let’s start with food. I didn’t eat as much as I expected, and I still haven’t gotten up the courage to try the real big hitters. I’m talking deep fried candy bars, chocolate-covered bacon, alligator, hot dish on a stick, it goes on (and on and on and on). I did get some basic staples though–consider it my segue back into the Culture of the Fair.
Food #1: An amazing turkey sandwich–moist and slightly barbecuey–purchased right across the street from the poultry building.
Food #2: Most delicious mini-donuts, piping hot and encrusted with sugar. Note Mom’s zippy brown Keds.
Food #3: Beergarita. No, seriously! Let me explain. Leinenkugel Honey Weiss beer, blended with regular margarita mix, produces a drink that is slightly sweet, mostly tangy, and veeerrrry refreshing. Some say it’s an acquired taste, but I disagree–I fell in love from the very first sip.
Food #4: Cheese curds. Duh. Quite possibly the best food ever. Check out that grease. I walked so far (in slight agony, as my feet were both blistered and tired) to find a stand that sold these, and paid five bucks for a tray that fit in my hand. It was so worth it.
And here are some essential snapshots:
From left to right: ribbon-winning cakes, bundt and otherwise; the state’s largest pig (Squeaky, 1240lbs); and the Dairy Building’s butter sculptor at work.
So the NY Times had a big article today on Patrick Robinson, the new designer for Gap who’s basically being heralded as the great messiah, come to pull the store out of the doldrums and save it from bankruptcy (which is basically where it seems to be going).
“I just about died when I went in the store,” said Jennifer Black, the president of Jennifer Black & Associates, a research company focused on the apparel industry. “I don’t know how traffic’s been, but from an aesthetic perspective, I think it looks great. For me to be taken aback is kind of a big thing.”
So I was like, cool. There are Gaps all over the place here. Maybe they’ll have some sweet clothes for me to load up on before I head back to school next week. So I went over to their website to scope it out. And you know, some of it impresses me, of course, but really? This is it? There are some good, cute, classic, Gap-ish things that I like–the coats are nice–but some of it kind of makes me go “come on.”
I mean, I guess it’s nice. I like the coats. But I’m not sure this is going to give Gap the new lease on life that it hopes to get.
In other news, Isaac Mizrahi is still driving the wacky bus and everyone who shops at Target gets a free ticket to ride. I don’t know what breed of aging socialite and/or foreign dignitary he believes he’s designing for, but they are definitely not at the Edina Supertarget (last I checked).
Nonetheless, I love him. Shine on, you crazy diamond. Shine on.
There are few things that are more soothing to me than the smelly and thankless task of grooming the family dog. I cut and/or combed about ten mats out of Walter’s fur, combed him out with this ruthlessly effective thing my mom bought called the Furminator (see above), and pulled a tick off his neck. In the process, I received:
- A bug bite right at the corner of my lips that has swollen to a point where closing my mouth normally feels bizarre. And now I can’t stop poking at it. Excellent.
- Hands that smell like dog.
- All the expected trauma associated with extracting wriggling, swollen little blood-sucking insects from the neck of a warm-blooded mammal.
- An ungrateful pooch who will most likely be visiting my room in about fifteen minutes to see if I’ve left anything tasty in my trash lately (Kleenex, aluminum cans, apple cores, etc etc).
Nonetheless, this is a necessary part of pet ownership–without regular grooming, Walt would have mats all over and shed like a shedding demon. It’s also one of those proprietary things that I like to do as one who at least takes some responsibility for the happiness of this dog.
You and I have had a tacit understanding from the start. You would be a stepping-stone for me after graduation–I’d have my East Coast adventure with you, and then once I got that out of my system I’d head back to the Upper Midwest, settle down, get a backyard and a car, go Up North, live the life.
Well, Washington, it looks like I’ll have to break that agreement. Circumstances outside my control have necessitated my early return to the motherland. Don’t call it a breakup. Call it a change of timeline. You knew I would leave–it’s just come a little earlier than we both thought.