170 Pineapples for a Dish Worth Driving To

Fine. I stole that title from the Phantom Gourmet.
And fine, it makes little sense in this context.
Call me slipshod. Or slapdash.
Or slashdot.
Really, whatever, I'm tired.

Anyway:
Scarlett Johansson has been named "Sexist Woman Alive" by Esquire magazine.

Well, uh, yea.

I fell madly in love with Scarlett in Ghostworld (cumulative audience, including dvd rentals: 4).
And my-my-my how far she's come! Seriously: YOU. GO.

Disagree with me if you will, but Angelina ain't got nothin' on SJ. She's elegant and charming, always looking together but never overdone. She's well-spoken. She's an absurdly talented actress. She never does patently dumb shit in public.
And, lest we not forget, she's undeniably amazingly not-even-possible-huhwhatyea attractive.

But the cake-topper of her appeal:

As CNN relays: "She... once flashed a sign proclaiming, 'the person taking this picture is harrassing me.'

'Apparently I spelled harass wrong,' she recalls. 'It was horrible. I couldn't remember whether it was one r or two, and I asked like four people, and they said two.'"

PSSSSSSSST, Scarlett. Those people are stupid. Call me. I'm super spectrophotofluorometrically, pneumoencephalographically, otorhinolaryngologically good at spelling.