let us now pay homage to a godfather of snark

Oh noes, now who will mock Cher?!

Oh noes, now who will mock Cher?!

Failed actor and fashion designer turned catty bitch Richard Blackwell died in Los Angeles earlier this week. He started his annual Worst-Dressed List in 1960, long before Perez Hilton was doodling coke mustaches on Christopher Robin in his Winnie-the-Pooh coloring books.

As much as I owe a debt to the likes of Mr. Blackwell, there is something kind of sad about making snark your life’s accomplishment. It’s not as if droll putdowns of what Zsa Zsa Gabor wore to the 1987 Screen Actor’s Guild Awards really contribute to the forward momentum of the human race.

Luckily for me, I have little pride and less ambition, so if the only accomplishment carved on my (metaphorical, since I intend to be cremated) headstone is “She talked a lot of shit about Sarah Palin”, I’m okay with that.


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