Just when I was starting to soften a bit — Jenny's writing again. She's imagining some sort of carnival scene that involves crappy music and going through the looking glass and boys circling her and just about every other kind of pretentiousness you can imagine. Did you hear nothing Sandra said to you?

The silent treatment — Carmen is being unbelievably cute and trying to get Shane to talk about herself. But Shane just doesn't do that pillow talk stuff, so Carmen gives up.

Carmen: "I don't know if you have, like, house rules or something..."
Shane: "No, I don't. There are no house rules."
Carmen: "Right. Right."
Shane: "There's not."
Carmen: "Okay."
Shane: "I don't like sleepovers. I'm sorry. But I don't."
Carmen: "Okay. You don't have to explain anything. It's your choice."

Yep. And if that's the choice you're gonna make, you're a fraggly FOOL!

Maximum levels of toxicity — Tonya has arranged a lunch with a bunch of reps — Subaru, Absolut, Bride magazine, Wilson, and The Advocate. Tonya has decided they will all work together to produce the first ever "corporate-sponsored celebrity lesbian wedding." Help me.

This is all news to Dana, of course, whose expressions are a funny mix of incredulity, amusement, and helplessness. The Absolut vodka rep says the whole thing will be "Absolut herstory," and I guess that's true, if by "herstory" you mean a steaming pile of toxic crap.

Still, once again, give McGeachie some respect: the woman is funny. Scary, but funny.

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