Jane Says...
I picked up the April issue of Jane magazine to check out its new format and design…it’s okay. I liked aspects of it, but all-in-all felt maybe a wee bit too old for its content…that is, until I got to page 152…insert background track of Blur - "Woo-Hoo-ooo!” An article on none other than the number one, all star juicy StinkPoppa, Johnny Depp! Writer Jackie Rose recounts her per chance meeting with Johnny at of all places…a play group in Montreal. (SHIT! I’ve suffered through MANY play groups in my day, what the hell? It’s just so unfair! I’m sounding like a Stinkpup, I know!) She said moms were scrambling for their diaper bags for lip gloss and pulling their ponytail holders out…basic quiet pandemonium typical girly shit…ha! SO great. He was there with his son, Jack, and as luck would have it, Rose’s daughter and Jack played together, affording her the opportunity to speak with …sigh!...HIM! PapaStinkDepp!
To me, the best line of the entire piece was when she wrote, “…Up close, Johnny was divine. He had leather cords around his wrists and tiny tattoos on his hands. His sexy, greasy hair was tucked beneath a ratty cap. He smelled vaguely of feet and cigarettes that had been half-smoked and pocketed for later. Heaven….”
YES! I concur!!! HEAVEN! See? I KNEW he was an upholder of the Stink! I just knew it! In all my days at CNN, he never once came into the studio for an interview…and every fashion show he attended while dating Kate Moss, coincidentally, I wasn’t at…it wasn’t until after my EIGHT YEAR stint at the network was over that I get a call from not one, but several former co-workers telling me that he had come into the studio. Picture Korean girl on her knees, clutching the phone, and screaming upward toward the echoing, darkening, purple sky…"NOOO-OOOOO!” Birds flying from trees, wolves howling at the moon, and rivers reversing tides…Universal injustice! When I get up enough StinkGumption, I will post about the time I actually did meet him…when I was in college…at an auto show in Hartford, CT. It’s just too embarrassing to talk about…but I WILL say this. He is the yummiest man to ever walk the face of the earth! (And, don’t go feeling badly for Mr. BigStink. He entered into marriage union with me fully briefed on my Johnny-4-evah stance, and toted in his own Michelle Pfieffer lust bucket to boot.)
So, in conclusion, getting back to the whole Jane article and the fact that I hoity-toitily thought I was too old for their content…all I have to say is, Who the fuck was I kidding? The magazine had me going to sleep with big ol’ Tiger Beat and Sixteen Magazine pink puffy smoke hearts curling over my bed, and as I closed my eyes I could almost see my old Andy Gibb and Shawn Cassidy posters hanging above me. That was some good shit, Jackie Rose. Some gooo-ood shit!
To me, the best line of the entire piece was when she wrote, “…Up close, Johnny was divine. He had leather cords around his wrists and tiny tattoos on his hands. His sexy, greasy hair was tucked beneath a ratty cap. He smelled vaguely of feet and cigarettes that had been half-smoked and pocketed for later. Heaven….”
YES! I concur!!! HEAVEN! See? I KNEW he was an upholder of the Stink! I just knew it! In all my days at CNN, he never once came into the studio for an interview…and every fashion show he attended while dating Kate Moss, coincidentally, I wasn’t at…it wasn’t until after my EIGHT YEAR stint at the network was over that I get a call from not one, but several former co-workers telling me that he had come into the studio. Picture Korean girl on her knees, clutching the phone, and screaming upward toward the echoing, darkening, purple sky…"NOOO-OOOOO!” Birds flying from trees, wolves howling at the moon, and rivers reversing tides…Universal injustice! When I get up enough StinkGumption, I will post about the time I actually did meet him…when I was in college…at an auto show in Hartford, CT. It’s just too embarrassing to talk about…but I WILL say this. He is the yummiest man to ever walk the face of the earth! (And, don’t go feeling badly for Mr. BigStink. He entered into marriage union with me fully briefed on my Johnny-4-evah stance, and toted in his own Michelle Pfieffer lust bucket to boot.)
So, in conclusion, getting back to the whole Jane article and the fact that I hoity-toitily thought I was too old for their content…all I have to say is, Who the fuck was I kidding? The magazine had me going to sleep with big ol’ Tiger Beat and Sixteen Magazine pink puffy smoke hearts curling over my bed, and as I closed my eyes I could almost see my old Andy Gibb and Shawn Cassidy posters hanging above me. That was some good shit, Jackie Rose. Some gooo-ood shit!
posted by AStinkmum at 1:21 PM
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