CNN could have taken the day off, Fox News could have holed up at some ayurvedic spa in Playa del Carmen, and all fifteen incarnations of MSNBC could have each chosen a Filene's Basement in the Tri-State area and tried on their terrycloth findings in the cell phone reception-free basements, and the world would STILL have been so in the loop about the incontestably tragic death of designer Alexander McQueen, thanks to the indubitably handy, yet annoying-as-a-bad-case-of-colitis news feed of Facebook. Yesterday morning welcomed a shitstorm of epitaphs.
And being that it's the untimely demise of a fellow enfant terrible that we're here to mourn, discuss and ruminate over, I feel he would have wanted me to be frank, so without further ado I present my favorite vigilante newsbits regarding yesterday's loss, replete with inappropriate connotation.
save your money, people--it's a recession, and flowers wilt.
i know who wrote this, and if by memories you mean the style.com tidbit you required to answer, and i quote, "who the fuck is alexander mcqueen?" then keep thanking, dear.
you're devastated, huh? well i'm liza minelli and before i had the webbing between my toes excised, i could swim clear across to paramus. the last two hold worlds more truth than the first, and thank you so much for refreshing our memory on the most famous sporters of your idol's offering.
sing it, girl.
at least she ain't shedding crocodile purse tears.
no tears! you might stain your mcQ for target silk-blend scarf.
that second dude's comments are right on.
then how ever did you make it to all five of yesterday's shows with such perky mascara?
today i learned that being inconsolable is no excuse not to have eyes that pop...
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