“Thank you Larry King for making cougars seem like jailbait.”
“Thank you girls who wear jeans tucked into their boots for rocking a look that only seems appropriate on a German army base.”
“Thank you Kleenex lotion tissues for not telling anyone how you got the idea for combining Kleenex and lotion.”
Ah, the thank yous of Jimmy Fallon. I think it’s amazing that Jimmy is “writing” them week after week on his show. I put writing in quotation marks because I think he is just scribbling gibberish while he reads his thank yous aloud. But that’s okay! He is still bringing the art of sassy thank yous to a national television audience. It’s like when the milliners cry tears of joy because J-Lo and all the hipsters in Brooklyn are wearing fedoras. Jimmy Fallon is probably inspiring happy dances from calligraphers and stationary designers all over the world.
As you can see from some of his notes above, Jimmy likes to thank the sillies who inspire him daily. I really do think he is thankful to Larry King for promoting the art of cougar cheating and for Kleenex lotion tissues. Plus, his thank you notes are hilarious and genuine in one way or another. And with the amount he churns out, he’s got the makings of a very proper Southern belle!
Jimmy loves a creepy background visual while he thanks. I think perhaps Stacey and I should send him some more colorful stationary though. The classic ecru gets old so fast!
I actually met Miss Manners for the first time at a funeral. Horrid circumstances but definitely one that requires impeccable manners. A former Washington Post reporter had sadly passed and I went along with my Dad to pay homage to his colleague. Now good things don’t usually happen at funerals, but at this particular one, I got to meet Miss Manners. Not just meet, I got to sit right next to her! That is if you don’t count my father sitting between us and hogging all the attention.
As I sat and pretended to listen to the moving words being said, I cursed myself for not starching my entire outfit. Why hadn’t I ironed creases into my tee-shirt or shined my shoes until they reflected the sun? Miss Manners was never going to like me!
While my father chatted with her about days gone by, I shuddered with joy at this lovely seating arrangement and casually jotted down a few thousand mental notes about absolutely everything Miss Manners did, said, and wore (black dress, black hat with fantastic floral flourish, black alligator purse with white kidskin gloves hanging out of the pocket just so).
Since becoming Miss Manners’ BFF, I have run into her a few times at events around town (well we are best friends) and still marvel at her high priestess of politeness ways. I do strive to be like her one day, but I should probably stop telling people they are dangerously obese when they eat carbs first.
Maybe handwriting 365 thank you notes will help my cause…
F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S. Miss Manners makes knowing the red wine glass from the white wine glass an art.
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