teacher's pride

i've got the kinda depth that can only be measured in a charge. that's why i don't bother with the likes of harper's, atlantic monthly, even people. no. i'm strictly a disney adventures gal.

this month features the spread- "Stars pick their top tunes and we say 'rock on'!" *note. stars is a term used veery loosely and includes the girl from spy kids and an animated naked mole rat. (and oddly, fidel castro) i know this ain't my crowd. and i'm not expecting aaron carter to leave off busting up paris hilton long enough to vote for 'pixies, gouge away.' but, i say 'bring it.'

charmingly, lindsay (look, boobs!) lohan votes for madonna's holiday. avril lavigne postures with CCR's bad moon rising. stitch makes a good call with elvis costello's almost blue.

then, there's christy carlson romano (don't ask, doesn't matter). she choses "teacher's pet." "the send up number done to backwater perfection by parker posey in waiting for guffman?" you ask. no. teacher's pet by christy muthafuckin carlson romano. she dug her bony little fingers into the rich gorgeous crushing ore of rock music and could only retrieve... her own song.

good god. i don't put myself in the top three of any all time list. including my own 'top three sexual partners.' and i'm really good.

dosoevsky, who had the actual cred. who was roulette adled, and vodka soaked, and an epileptic bastard. still, never heard him listing "oh, let's see, ana karenina and... brothers karamozov, now that's a great book." because he wasn't a total fucking jerkoff.

or maybe she's just a gal. with a dream. and a whole lot of pride in her work.