Wednesday, March 9, 2011


I have never liked Joan Crawford. She must have gotten to me as a child somehow because when I see her aged face, I think of severe elementary school matrons; tight-lipped, icy old thornbushes. I guess I changed my mind at some point, however, because when I watched Baby Jane last night, I actually felt a dash of warm familiarity as I searched for remnants of 1939 JC in 1962 JC's face. I've watched The Women so many times that my love for her as bitch homewrecker Crystal melted my anti-Joan sentiments. And who the fuck am I to dislike a woman's irregular beauty? Sorry Joan.

She was a bitch, though. We know this. And when it comes to taking sides (which I do early and often), I am BDATW


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