What's up, Trash Pilgrims, and Happy Thanksgiving week! I'm Elinor Jones, AKA Pie Slut #1. Now, today is technically Monday in that it's the first day of the work week, but spiritually it's Wednesday because there are only two more days left in the work week. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday in practice. but one of my least favorite in terms of origin stories. Colonialism and genocide: bad; eating carbs with friends and family: good. Love the art, not the artist, you know?
Let's change the subject! It's trash time:
Elderly American Politicians
Former First Lady Rosalynn Carter passed away over the weekend at the age of 96. She will be remembered for taking a very active role in her husband's administration, including sitting in on cabinet meetings, because she didn't think her husband was relaying information back to her correctly. Hilarious. Behind every politician with a good heart is a spouse who loves and supports them, but doesn't fully trust them to tell the story right. The Carter family must be relieved that the public isn't using the news of her passing to revisit rumors of her being a blowjob queen à la Nancy Reagan. No, the only nuts Rosalynn handled were peanuts at the Carter family farm.
In other extremely old politician news, today is President Joe Biden's birthday. I hope he is able to spend the day with his loving family, and I hope that during that time, he thinks about how nice it is that his grandchildren are not buried under rubble, and how nice and easy it would be to say something like that out loud, in public. Or maybe he'll get an ice cream cone. We all love it when he does that. Republican hopeful Ron DeSantis recently spoke to CNN and stated that Biden—as well as Trump—is too old to be president. Look. DeSantis being right doesn't make him likable. Everybody is too something to be president. Biden is too old. Trump is too criminal. DeSantis is too short. I'm too lazy and judgmental and dumb. Nobody's perfect!
Wish Andre's Heart Still Was in Rapping...
Outkast's Andre 3000 finally released his long-awaited solo album, and it's instrumental, which has many people sad and confused. But Andre was really real about it: "I'm 48 years old. What are you talking about? 'I got to go get a colonoscopy.' What are you rapping about? 'My eyesight is going bad.'" Dude. I was actually fine with him not making a rap album until the possibility of him rapping about a colonoscopy was on the table. Now I'm sad we don't have that! I mean, probably one of the reasons elder millennials like me are such lost and entitled basket-cases is our college experience was bookended by 9/11 and "Hey Ya!" coming out. It gave us hope, and ever since then we've been chasing that high of having a perfect banger align with our life experiences. Including now! My optometrist recently offered me bifocals and I had nothing to party to on the car ride home! Give us the butthole camera rap, Andre, please! We are old and sad!
Oprah released her annual Favorite Things last week. I smugly clicked into it, fully prepared to put together a scathing critique of consumerism and aspirational living. Then I saw the $129 box of brie, and my first thought wasn't of torches and pitchforks, but was "oh wow, that's actually pretty reasonable." This bar set is really nice. And the japron?!? Get outta here. The woman has taste, I'll give her that. One thing I will cynically point out is the emphasis on purple items in this round-up, which is to make people think of the color purple, as in The Color Purple, the movie Oprah produced that is coming out on Christmas day which will surely make a bajillion dollars without Oprah subliminally marketing it through this year's must-have loungewear (which also looks great and I want.)
Fellow lifestyle guru Martha Stewart shared that she's over Thanksgiving. Or did she? While that is what headlines are suggesting, the brined game meat of the story reveals that Stewart is simply skipping making a bird on the main day because she'll have already cooked so many on TV ahead of time. Hardly the same thing! Instead, Stewart will go to "about five different homes" for *multiple* Thanksgiving dinners. Bitch, what?! How in the world is attending five parties in a single day less stressful than cooking one single meal of tan food? Clearly it's not about not doing the work. I think she wants the rest of them to sweat. Like, sure. Host Martha Stewart, the actual fucking Queen of Thanksgiving. Wait for her reaction to your dry-ass bird. Don't cry. It's only a holiday.
The Woman In Me 2: The Women In Me
Justin Timberlake is reportedly real frustrated about the fallout from Britney Spears putting him on blast in her memoir The Woman In Me. So frustrated, in fact, that he is reportedly thinking about suing her to restore his reputation. Yeah, dude. That'll get people back on your side. Take the twirling woman to court. Put her under oath and give her a mic. Give her fuel for her next memoir. We will buy the sequel. Michelle Williams will accept another Grammy for reading it. Sue her. Fucking do it. Do it. Coward.
In other news of women roasting men, Kate Beckinsale recently attended Leonardo DiCaprio's birthday and wore a dress mocking his role in Titanic. (Glamour magazine thinks it was about The Aviator, but I think that they're wrong.) Love a gal with enough energy to buy a dress that'll make someone embarrassed at their own party. I'd like to think if Kate Beckinsale came to my birthday party, she'd find a dress that somehow revealed my early involvement with the Ralph Nader campaign.
Okay, let's pause for a second to do some math before I wrap this thing up. 96, 95, 81, 77, 45, 48, 69, 82, 42, 41, 43, 50, 49, 89. Those are the ages of the people I've written about in this column thus far. The average age is 65. The Mercury is supposed to have its finger on the pulse, and we do, but please excuse us if the pulse is very faint.
Anyway, in order to bring down my numbers I'll share that Florence Pugh was recently spotted making out with Jack Harlow. Will it go anywhere? Doesn't matter; simply knowing about it might make my much younger cousins find me relevant.
A Tigard neighborhood was on alert last week after a resident reported spotting a cougar in a park. Animal services investigated and reported that the cougar was in fact just a big fat orange housecat. In seemingly unrelated news, several homes near the park reported that the lasagnas they'd set on their windowsills to cool had been stolen.
That's all for today, friends. I hope your bellies are full and happy, and if yours is a household that enjoys alcohol, I hope that everybody gets fun drunk and not mean drunk. I'm thankful for every last one of you, and for pants with an elastic waistband.