| Monday, September 16, 2002 |
 | Is it Neil Gaiman's one moment of self-knowledge? Or is it just a lying motherfucker?
And, speaking of simulations and reality, something that has come up in every conversation I have had with Anna in the last week, with growing fear and incredulity, is the whole "Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's Maybelline" schtick. At the best of times, this is a moronic contention unless people have been born with some degenerative disease that makes their lips huge and scarlet. However, in the case of their diamond sparkle lip gloss, which has little sparkly bits suspended in the viscous ooze, this is particularly apalling. Nobody, but nobody, who is born with shiny, sparkly lips will last their first night on Earth.
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