Shit really picks up around the fourth minute. I swear!
I fear we come off as truly horrible people in this one… Dustin started it!
Having now seen the movie I must admit the knickers, like the performances, were spot on. (note: no knickers)
It’s almost like in posing this question Dustin was suggesting we DON’T have fascinating fabulous lives. I can’t speak for him. He’s a sad man who loves oatmeal*, a sad man who loves oatmeal who’s also out of town so I don’t think he’s going to see this for a little while, hence I can refer to him as a sad man who loves oatmeal when perhaps that’s not fair, but I am very fabulous and fascinating and I’m currently living three lives that’s how many lives I’ve packed into my one life. You know?
*Oh my motherfucking fuck I just spent one whole lifetime trying to find the myriad blog entries I’d written on the Time Out New York blog about Dustin and his oatmeal when we both worked at there, including a bit of genius when he cheated on his oatmeal with a box of poptarts (I believe it was titled “Who Cries For The Oatmeal?”) but for the life of me I can’t find them. I can’t even find the blog.