a WTF coffee table trilogy: item two
last night i walked into the guest room and caught the february issue of the boca observer in my periphery. “what’s jamie from top chef doing on the cover of the boca observer?” i wondered, after i’d decided that despite my initial suspicions the boca observer is likely a real magazine. i assumed jamie had a restaurant in boca or one of its neighboring geriatric playgrounds. curious, i walked over to the magazine and picked it up for a quick skim and, well, it turns out jamie from top chef is not actually on the cover of the boca observer. it’s friggin dj tanner. seriously. on a magazine cover. and it’s not nineteen ninety-two.
what was the deal with candice cameron again? i can’t remember. is she batshit crazy or is that completely something i made up? someone needs to put a chart together that points candice and kirk cameron, tracey gold and jodie sweetin to their respective less-than-stellar post-sitcom presents. just for moments like these.
pee ess: dj kinda looks like my friend sandypants. and yes, i have a friend named sandypants. and yes, she only drinks alcohol if it’s chilled patron silver. that’s how sandypants rolls. what of it?