Most people are unfamiliar with the celebrity-crushed party known as the Met Gala. For the uninitiated, it's the annual fundraiser for the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art... or as it's better known, the 2014 party where Solange Knowles flew into a kicking screaming frenzy at brother-in-law Jay-Z. (Ohhhhh, that Met Gala.) Unfortunately, nothing nearly as interesting happened this year—which means we'll have to be satisfied with making fun of all the hideous celebrity fashions. (Yay!) This year's Met Gala theme was "China: Through the Looking Glass," which could've led to some hysterically offensive cultural appropriations—but unfortunately most participants were just flat-out weird. Solange Knowles' mini-dress (from Brit designer Giles Deacon) made her look like an Australian frilled-neck lizard running in the opposite direction, while Rihanna's epic yellow gown required four adults to carry its massively long train. (The good news is that Gwyneth Paltrow was accidentally swept underneath the gown, and never heard from again.) But the biggest hits of the evening were the "nearly nudes." Shapely Jennifer Lopez was dressed in a barely there Versace, while the dreaded Kim Kardashian raided her grandma's linen cabinet, covered her breasts, bottom, and va-jay-jay with lace doilies, and called it good. But as usual, a gorgeous (and 87 percent naked) Beyoncé stole the show with her Givenchy gown which was seemingly constructed out of gauze, glue, and a handful of carelessly thrown Skittles. We're thinking about wearing a reproduction of this dress the next time we're invited inside a dark, triple-sealed room where no one else could ever see us EVER.


Former US Senator and failed presidential hopeful Rick Santorum is an asshole. We hold this truth to be self-evident. (For further proof see his past record regarding LGBTQ issues, in particular when he compared homosexuality to a man having sex with a child or a dog.) Bearing that in mind, here's what he had to say this week on the subject of Bruce Jenner's admission that he identifies as a woman. "If he says he's a woman, then he's a woman," Santorum told reporters at the South Carolina Republican Party convention. Wait... WHAT? [Insert record scratch here.] "My responsibility as a human being is to love and accept everybody," he continued. "Not to criticize people for who they are. I can criticize—and I do—for what people do, for their behavior. But as far as for who they are, you have to respect everybody, and these are obviously complex issues... and I think we have to look at it in a way that is compassionate and respectful of everybody." Okay... so this means one of three things: Either Santorum and his GOP cohorts are starting to realize the writing on the wall when it comes to America's acceptance of LGBTQ rights, OR, in the words of Star Wars' fish-headed Admiral Ackbar, "IT'S A TRAP!" OR, someone has replaced Santorum with a compassionate look-alike cyborg. Two out of three work for us.


From roughly 1972 through 1991, then Chicago Police Commander Jon Burge was in charge of a group of rogue detectives called the "Midnight Crew." Together, according to the Guardian, they tortured more than 100 African Americans on Chicago's South Side in order to extract confessions, subjecting them to "shocks, burns, and mock executions, among other brutal acts." While structural reform obviously needs to happen within the city's police department, Chicago City Council unanimously agreed to pay reparations to the survivors—a total sum of $5.5 million. "To the victims, to the families, to the entire city," said Mayor Rahm Emanuel, "this is another step, but an essential step in righting a wrong." As to former Commander Burge's fate: He was fired in 1993, never admitting or being charged with the crimes. Convicted of obstruction of justice and perjury in a related civil lawsuit, Burge spent four and a half years in prison—but continues to draw a police pension.


In news that should shock absolutely no one, Lindsay Lohan STILL has not completed her community service hours stemming from a 2012 reckless driving charge. We reported way back in February that LiLo was trying to convince the judge that performing in a stage production of Speed-the-Plow—and greeting audience members afterward—should count as "community service." After laughing hysterically, the judge told her she had until May 28 to complete 125 hours of service—and how much has she completed since then? Only nine hours and 45 minutes. (Maybe she should just save some time and get all of her mail forwarded to the LA County Women's Correctional Unit.)


"The once ubiquitous term 'middle class' has gone conspicuously missing from the 2016 campaign trail," the New York Times reports. "The phrase, long synonymous with the American dream, now evokes anxiety, an uncertain future, and a lifestyle that is increasingly out of reach." Huh. Weird! How could that possibly have happened? "After three decades of income gains favoring the highest earners and job growth being concentrated at the bottom of the pay scale," the Times explains, Americans who were once considered "middle class" can no longer "afford the trappings of what was once associated with a middle-class lifestyle"—like, you know, being able to go to college, buy a home, or retire. So pay attention, One Day readers! As the 2016 race heats up, watch for candidates' embarrassingly elaborate methods of avoiding the term "middle class," which range from obnoxiously vague (Hillary Clinton's term "everyday Americans") to obnoxiously obnoxious (Rand Paul's somehow managing to say "people who work for the people who own businesses"). Hey, candidates? Know what might be a better way to address this issue than frantically thumbing through your thesauri? Make it so America has a middle class again. Sound good? Good! Thanks! Bye!


Soooo.... speaking of Americans' current job options, James Franco looooves McDonald's! In a bewildering op-ed for the Washington Post titled "McDonald's Was There for Me When No One Else Was," the actor/writer/producer/director/moron waxed rhapsodic about how, after dropping out of college, he had a hard time getting work, in part thanks to "very little work experience." ("In high school," Franco moronically reminisces, "I was fired from a coffee shop for reading behind the counter and from a golf course for reading while driving the cart on the driving range.") Luckily, Franco snagged a "late-shift drive-thru position" at his nearest Mickey D's—where he "soon started putting on fake accents with the customers to practice for my scenes in acting class." (Were you one of those customers? If so, we're pretty sure Franco owes you $5.5 million in reparations.) While Franco goes on to tattle that coworkers ate straight from the fry hopper ("So easy") and airs petty grievances ("When you're paying a dollar for a burger, is it the end of the world if I accidentally forgot to take mustard off the order?"), he admits to his love of the restaurant that provides so, so much garbage food. "When I was hungry for work, they fed the need," Franco actually wrote, adding he "still loves the simplicity of the McDonald's hamburger and its salty fries," despite the fact that reading Fast Food Nation makes it hard "to trust the grade of the meat." ATTN. PULITZER COMMITTEE! PULITZER COMMITTEE! WHERE IS THE PULITZER COMMITTEE???


Last week, a 27-year-old Scotsman named Ryan McHenry died after living with osteosarcoma for two years. You probably don't know McHenry's name, but you've doubtless seen something amazing that he made: the Vine series "Ryan Gosling Won't Eat His Cereal," which singlehandedly justified the existence of Vine, the internet, and cereal. "The series played off Gosling's extremely serious mien in so many of his movies," remembers Dan Kois at Slate. "In each Vine, McHenry held a spoonful of cereal up to a televised image of Gosling's stone face. It was simple and perfect and became delightfully popular." So it was only fitting that—following McHenry's too-soon death—Gosling paid tribute. He did so in a short but surprisingly sweet way: By posting a Vine in which he ate cereal, holding up his spoon in salute before taking his first bite. Good on you, Gosling—and we trust McHenry's Vines will be added to the Library of Congress, where they shall be eternally preserved for, and enjoyed by, humanity's future generations.