The woman inside

With Bea, I just remember how vulnerable she was. She had this gruff exterior. But the truth is, if you told her a sad story, she could be reduced to tears, quickly. She had a lot of emotions inside. And her persona was one of someone strong and gruff. But that’s not who the woman inside was.

Marc Cherry Shares His Memories of Writing for Golden Girls, Vulture.

Oh, Bea <3 Marc Cherry était l'un des scénaristes des Golden Girls, et a aussi écrit Desperate Housewives.

Pink Washing aux Oscars

The Academy is supposedly a trade group, and yet it devoted its opening number to degrading a good part of its membership. And who knows what the Los Angeles Gay Men’s Chorus thought that it was doing by serving as MacFarlane’s backup singers, but it’s hard not to wonder what the rhetorical point was meant to be. We saw your boobs, but that’s not even what we find attractive, so you exerted no power in doing so—all you did was humiliate yourself? Maybe that’s reading too much into it. It could be that MacFarlane just thought it would be funny for him to say the word “gay” as often as possible.

Seth MacFarlane and the Oscars’ Hostile, Ugly, Sexist Night, Close Read, The New Yorker.

Seth MacFarlance était l’hôte des Oscars 2013 et comme je le disais hier, voir des pédés utilisés sur scène pour essayer de nous faire croire que les blagues n’étaient pas sexistes, ça m’a beaucoup gêné aussi. Et le principal problème de ces blagues, c’était bien sûr qu’elles n’étaient pas drôles du tout.

Now, Seth MacFarlane is thirty-nine, and I am—barely—a part of the generation that he’s supposed to be appealing to. But I felt nostalgic last night for the Academy Awards of yore, when I sat on a couch with friends and watched everyone be glamorous and semi-respectable and we got to be gross and snarky. MacFarlane broke through that boundary last night, and suddenly the bitter asshole on the couch was up there on the stage, lost somewhere between a big smile and a sneer.

Seth MacFarlane, Creepy Imitator, Culture Desk, The New Yorker.

The Alarm Clock

Réalisé avec les chutes d’Anchorman, le film Wake Up Ron Burgundy, est sur YouTube et ya Maya Rudolph dedans. (Ce qui veut dire qu’ils l’ont coupé au montage, les fous.) Et The Alarm Clock, quel nom fabuleux pour un groupuscule révolutionnaire.


I think Molly is a really great actor and she was really coming at it from the inside out, as opposed to just applying a silly wig and saying, “I’m doing this character.” But I also think she had a fearlessness. She’d just set her scene up and say, “I want the chairs like that.” And then on the live show she would just run into them. I mean, those folding chairs hurt when you fall into them. And she frickin’ bruised the shit out of herself but she would get and applause and people would go ape shit.

“Saturday Night Live”: The Girls’ Club, The New Yorker.

I love Molly Shannon so much. Je n’arrive à croire que certaines personnes pensent —et osent dire— que les femmes sont moins drôles. Du sexisme dans sa forme la plus pure.

(Et ce soir, c’est Margaret Cho! Hiiiiiii!)

Bossypants en 8 citations

Gay people don’t actually try to convert people. That’s Jehovah’s Witnesses you’re thinking of.

I had grown up as the “whitest” girl in a very Greek neighborhood, but in the eyes of my new classmates, I was Frida Kahlo in leggings.

I think God designed our mouths to die first to help us slowly transition to the grave. But I am a big believer in “Intelligent Design,” and by that I mean I love IKEA!

At really fancy shoots, a celebrity fecalist will study your bowel movements and adjust your humours.

By the way, when Oprah Winfrey is suggesting you may have overextended yourself, you need to examine your fucking life.

Ah, babies! They’re more than just adorable little creatures on whom you can blame your farts

One of the best-kept secrets of “country life” is that people accidentally crush their own pets a lot.

I have a suspicion that the definition of “crazy” in show business is a woman who keeps talking even after no one wants to fuck her anymore.

Une amie m’a récemment demandé : «Tu connais Trente Rock? Je suis à la fin de la première saison et je n’ai pas rigolé une seule fois.» C’est très stoïquement que je lui ai répondu que 30 Rock était une de mes sitcoms préférées de tous les temps et Tina Fey mon idole, en tant que scénariste, actrice et surtout en tant que personne-malaise. Elle m’a regardé comme si elle découvrait que j’aimais manger mes étuis de lentilles de contact.

Pour toutes mes homegirls qui goûtent l’humour un chouïa absurde de la série, ça vaut le coup de se pencher sur Bossypants, le livre de Tina Fey revenant sur son parcours jusqu’ici, avec des gros morceaux de SNL et de gay best friends dedans.