Dear cyberspaces: please be less about Keith Gessen, Emily Gould, and Julia Allison's Twitter...
…and more about the gaping hole in the center of the internets that is the void formerly filled by Billups. Every day I click over there, and every day it’s like somebody just shit in my cornflakes. What’s it called when you keep doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result? Oh.
I’d package all three of the aforementioned with Perez Hilton’s expiring contract and throw the whole lot on the block just for some sniff off dude’s truth. But that’s just me. A brief sample, in case you forgot:
FINALLY, THE CHECKWRITER ASKS THE MOONWALKER TO TO BE A DECENT PROTESTANT AND LEVEL WITH HIM; SOMETHING LIKE:
“BETWEEN YOU, ME AND THIS SIDEBOARD, DID YOU REALLY PULL THAT SHIT OFF? BECAUSE I BELIEVE IN MONEY, TOM SEAVER AND JESUS CHRIST AND IF YOU GUYS FILMED THAT SHIT ON THE BACKLOT AT PARAMOUNT WHILE MIA FARROW WAS GIVING THE CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD A HUMMER, THAT IS A-OK. BUT WHEN I GO HOME TONIGHT AND FUCK MY WIFE, I JUST WANT TO KNOW FOR SURE HOW MANY STEPS MANKIND HAS TAKEN.”
AND ARMSTRONG, WHO WAS A FUCKING SQUARE BY ALL ACCOUNTS, HE FINISHES HIS DRINK AND SAYS:
“I WANT YOU TO YOU LOOK ME IN MY EYES; I HAVEN’T SLEPT A PEACEFUL NIGHT IN MORE THAN SEVENTEEN YEARS. I AM INCAPABLE OF ANY KIND OF HUMAN CONNECTION. I AM CONSTANTLY IN DANGER OF DRIFTING INTO TOTAL MENTAL OBLIVION. THESE EYES, THEY LOOKED UPON THE EARTH AND SAW AN INCONSEQUENTIAL PARTICLE IN AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE, INFINITE UNIVERSE. YOU THINK THE JETS HAVE A SHOT THIS SEASON? I WALKED ON THE FUCKING MOON. THANKS FOR THE DRINK.”