Cruising with Paula Deen

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I’ve never heard of the woman. Ah, lovely big planet.

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The Eye of Mordor, The optometrist sign from The Great Gatsby, and now the photo illustration to this post.

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Holy crap, that was a lot of words and paragraphs about Paula Deen and her fans. Here are two to sum it up quicker: No thanks.

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I got the same vibe. I’m a relatively fast reader, and halfway through, just for giggles, I continued scrolling to the bottom to see how much was left. Wowsers. ThatsalottaPaula. And too much for me. Maybe Gawker pays by the word?

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I read this near the start of the article:

“I learned that the weirdest place Paula Deen has ever had sexual congress with her second husband Michael Groover, according to Paula Deen, is on a train traveling from New York City to Savannah, Ga.”

…and knew I would read the whole thing.

Every time I see Paula Deen mentioned, it reminds me of how delighted I am that I don’t live in Savannah any more.

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Sailing the seas of cheese

I am racist, because I get upset at the black people in our group for not acting like I think black people should act on the Paula Deen cruise (i.e. frosty and indignant; or at the very least incredulous).

Someone get Tumblr on the line; there are a bunch of white 20-somethings that are going to lose their ever-loving minds if/when they see that.

Does this mean that next summer there will be a bunch of people shelling out thousands of dollars to hop on a cruise with that “Duck Dynasty” guy? Because we must take that boat down at all costs.

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Observe caution. That particular cruise ship will probably be packing more heat than some nation states.

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That was the thought that ran through my head when I hit the paragraph where she spent 335 words listing all of the items she ate on the cruise. Alas, she just missed the 7,000 word mark.

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“Hmm should I peruse this bit of text on the subject of a tainted, dried up old knackery?, Only 7 comments, these people will know. Near 7000 words of tainted old knackery!? Methinks not!”

Thank you again bbs commentators, subtracting the time of thought, the time to read your thoughts & type this, I have still benefitted of saving.

Deeeeen!

I thought it was pretty hilarious - an arch way of telegraphing just how mind-numbingly dull the whole affair was. See also her comment re: the other two reporters, one of whom she describes in friendly, glowing detail, and one of whom she characterises as “also on the cruise.”

I too got tired well before the end of this piece. She should have saved this bit, at least, for another post:

Her husband, a ramrod straight-standing white-haired man recently retired from a government job, demonstrates a unique talent for being able to stare out at the horizon without moving or speaking for hours at a time. I spend the next few days considering his inner monologue, wondering exactly what I am watching him see. (Eventually I settle on: himself, in his younger days, discreetly killing people.)

This would have been a good opportunity to bring the staring eyes tag over from RPS, Rob.

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