14 7 / 2012

I guess the boys at GQ got their wish:

Hey, Katie. KATIE. SNAP OUT OF IT. We’re talking to you. We’ve loved you ever since you first climbed through Dawson’s Van Der Window and into our creepy-in-retrospect fantasies. We loved your shiny, shiny hair. We loved those dimples—like the baby Jesus shot you in the face with an air rifle. Twice! But most of all, we loved that you actually made good movies. The Ice Storm? Great! Wonder Boys? The only stupid part is when Michael Douglas doesn’t want to have sex with Katie Holmes. And then, okay, you decided to become Tom Cruise’s Porcelain Incubator Robot. Fine.

But did you have to turn your career into the Katie Holmes Garbage Party? This month you’re in two lousy movies, including Jack and Jill, the one where Adam Sandler plays his own sister. Why are you doing this? Is Tom punishing you because you spilled white-wine spritzer (your “medicine”—we totally get it) into his E-Meter? You’re better than this, Katie. Please come back.

Sincerely,

GQ

04 11 / 2010

When you put two condiment bottles together and try to put the contents of one into the other, it’s called “marrying.” But I think it sounds more like divorce. Think about it, one is sucking the life out of the other, bleeding it dry, and, in the end, leaving it feeling empty.

When you put two condiment bottles together and try to put the contents of one into the other, it’s called “marrying.” But I think it sounds more like divorce. Think about it, one is sucking the life out of the other, bleeding it dry, and, in the end, leaving it feeling empty.