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div id=”29022_kdub2″>One: Ann Miller died a couple days ago. She could tap like nobody’s business. When you watched the “Prehistoric Man” number from On the Town as many times as I have, you could see Gene Kelly watching her in total awe when she did those crazy spins. Also, her autobiography was called Miller’s High Life, which is my new favourite celebrity autobiography title ever.

Two: Go Ask Alice, the tawdry real-life, drug-addled diary that I snuck bits of in my elementary school library is a fraud. It makes sense in retrospect. (Thank you, Cati Fabulous.)

Three: The only comment I’ve gotten so far I had to delete because the commenter defended Ashton Kutcher and called me gayyyyy with five y’s for disliking him enough to mention it in my weblog sidebar. She both wrote them out and noted that there were five of them (like I did just now), which seemed redundant to me. I don’t think I ever got a random comment so mean from my old website. I did once get an email that someone named Lance thought he was in love with me because of my website, which was flattering. If I was into omens, I’d call this a bad one.