Oh. My. God!
Tonight I saw Getting There. No, let me start over: tonight Erin and I finally picked up our copy of Getting There from the downtown library. I’m for real, y’all, so don’t even be hatin’. Anyway, it was good, natch, but it lacked the finesse of, say, Our Lips Are Sealed, or even Passport to Paris. I’m still holding out for that magic man who’ll come home with a copy of Winning London on DVD and a bottle of Jack. Anyway, the best part? The shot of Mary-Kate, or possibly Ashley (like I can tell them apart when they both iron their hair), standing under a neon sign in Las Vegas that screamed LOOSE SLOTS. I shit you not.