Nobody noticed, but Mandy Moore released a new album.  It’s not as crappy as you’d think.
It’s …the musical equivalent to…a summery, linen skirt.  It’s something you don’t pour over.  You just slip it on and sit on the front porch swing.
Listen, I’m going to give the girl credit for getting unstuck from the Bubble Gum Princess Kingdom of the nineties without flashing her hoo-hah to all of America.  [Learn to exit a car, bitches.]

Yes, Mandy Moore has come a long way.  In my head, the beginning of this transformation came as a result of musical influences of her then-boyfriend, Zach Braff.  ‘Cuz you know how when you’re dating somebody, their musical tastes always slightly influence yours, because you like that person and want to like what they like.   Zach Braff is doing that whole, turning-on-everyone-to-new-music thing.   Like he was all, “Have you listened to my Garden State soundtrack?” and she’s all, “Weeeee! Swoon!” like the rest of generation y.  And then they broke up.

I once went out with a guy and I deem our one-date relationship a success based solely on this fact: he introduced me to jazz saxophonist Stan Getz.   That’s all it takes with me, boys.