missing: the hotness of bradley whitford

While flipping channels Sunday night, I came across the saddest little movie starring the once hot Bradley Whitford. You might know him as Josh Lyman from TVs west wing.  I only made it through 20 minutes of the movie before I had to switch - it was some tuesday's with maurie holiday crap - but one thing is certain...age has not been kind to him. He was almost a monet - from afar he looked half decent, but up close he was a big ole mess. I was thinking maybe it was the HD on the tv, but as the week has progressed, I wonder if he's had some plastic surgery done. It makes me a bit sad, but I'd still love on him as long as he talked "congressional dirty" to me....you know like saying "congressional resolution", "ways and means committee", "cloture motion". Hmmm...

circa 2002

circa now...sans creepstasche

Speaking of ways and means, last night was another run in with the Occupy DC people.  Good lord the smell.  They were wearing doctor's masks, sunglasses, and hats which completely obscured their faces but not their voices. Security was tight. A group of boys dressed in tuxes (and one in a white suit with a black turtleneck who looked like he belonged in an SNL sketch) somehow made it through security with us and then tried to push into our elevator. Within seconds, security was on them like a duck on a junebug. Once upstairs, more security. But I will have to say that I missed a golden opportunity to ask Nancy Pelosi who her plastic surgeon was, because goddamn yall. The bitches' face is flawless. True, she can hardly blink and her hair is such a disaster that the red cross wouldn't even give it coffee, but there is not one wrinkle on her face. It has to be more than just botox.

The best part of the night is when Fancy Nancy and I left the party, walking out with a former consultant of ours and we were accosted by the occupy people again.  This time they looked directly at the consultant and screamed "DUDE. Are you the 1%?" while filming us.  The consultant turns and looks at us to say goodnight, the protesters look at us to see if we, too, are part of the 1%.  After assessing us, they decide that we are just like them and turn their focus back on the consultant.  About a block down the road it suddenly hits me that the occupiers just insulted me by thinking I wasn't part of the elite. I started to turned around and give them a piece of my mind, but the cold wind started blowing and the stench carried with it....and I realized it wasn't worth my time or my sense of smell.

XO,
Bunny