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Forlorn Friday

‘Tis early yet, blog-o-centrics, but in the wake of several grievous happenings I think it’s not too early to proclaim today, Friday, July 24, 2009, as “Forlorn Friday” (because “Black Friday” is, you know, taken).

Here is a sampling of the things that have dealt a crushing blow to good moods everywhere: 

  • “Twilight 2: Moonier, Longer and Suckier” has taken Comic-Con by storm: File this under “What is the world coming to?” or “The horror … the horror.” It seems that “New Moon,” the sequel to the dreadfully swoony “Twilight” set to release in November, has fans at Comic-Con International in L.A. salivating in anticipation. Really, festivalgoers? THIS is what you’re excited about? I’m not much for indiscretionary dismissals of movie sequels, but if “New Moon” turns out to be more hokey and saccharine — actress Kristen Stewart prefers to go with “more severely emotional” — than “Twilight,” forget the swine flu virus vaccine; we’re going to need triple-time production of insulin.
  • Paris Hilton wants us to love her for her mind: For Big Daddy Kane, it’s pimpin’ that’s hard; for Paris Hilton, it’s playing a promiscuous chippie with no intelligent life in the cockpit. Hers is a story of excess and lack, a kind of “Baba O’Reilly” for the iPhone generation: so much money, so many $1,700 purses, so many kidnapped chihuahuas and lost Blackberry phones, so little talent. Now she’s lamenting this lamentable life in “Paris, Not France,” a documentary about her life dedicated to correcting our misconceptions about the world’s richest insult to womankind. Here’s a tip, PH: When you get to the point that you have to audition people on-camera to be your best friend, you’ve cruised right by “slutty airhead” and coasted straight into “pathetic loser.”
  • Winehouse cleared of assault charges: Everyone’s favorite drunken, diminuitive diva showed up in court (what? she showed up?) profoundly sober (re: no pinned pupils or vomit dribbling down her chin) dressed in a prim blouse and skirt (I don’t understand) to dismiss accusations she punched out a fan looking for a photograph. This is sad because it means the real Amy Winehouse has been kidnapped, no doubt bound in duct tape and stashed in a closet somewhere, and no one is looking for her.
  • Vaya con dios, Gidget: Pop-culture icon Gidget, the illustrious star behind the “Yo quiero Taco Bell” phenomenon that swept the nation in the late ’90s, died yesterday of a massive stroke. Gidget, 15, starred in such ground-breaking works as “Legally Blonde 2: Red, White & Blonde” and a GEICO insurance commercial — both of which were more meaningful than 2.78 seconds of “The Simple Life.” She will be missed, I believe, slightly more than Michael Jackson because her death will not require all of us to listen to “Billie Jean” and “Thriller” until we wish to lobotomize ourselves with our car keys. But the saddest note of this tragedy? She never even got a bit part in “Beverly Hills Chihuahua.” Ageism, plain and simple.
  • “The Ugly Truth” hits theaters nationwide: This one requires no further explanation.

Cruel world, I can’t handle any more heartache today. Someone pass be the blue pill.