Wow, yay, so much to look at here! But Ep. 1 of Speedie Date is what first caught my eye. Nicely acted, not 100% predictable, and I like how Heather and Mike are both kinda equally wrong and right.

Chelsea who? The wedding of the universe recently took place in England. Something old, something new, something super! (Possibly most awesome:  bridesmaids = Powerpuff Girls.) Think they jetted off to Sandals in the bride’s invisible plane?

Honestly, it’s almost as good as this.

Via TheEscapist, The Sun.

Ooh! “Singles for Foursquare builds a dating and messaging service on top of the location-sharing application. The result is a mashup that could match up hip iPhone-using, Foursquare-playing, same-bar-going early adopters.”

ProgrammableWeb also has this keen idea for version 2.0: “The concept could actually be expanded to connect users in a time-shifted manner. Rather than needing to be at the same place at the same time, Singles could recognize two of its users that frequent a particular restaurant and suggest they go at the same time. With dating sites based on even more tangential commonalities, it seems like a reasonable service to give to Foursquare users who tend to love their local businesses.” Plus, no LDRs.

I wasn’t going to say anything. I just wasn’t. ‘Cause, well, you know that thing about not having anything nice — that. Fortunately, the supercool Lizzie Skurnick has stepped in where I clammed up, offering this astute, not-even-not-nice takedown of one man’s ode to the one who got away. Not that odes are never in order, and his is nothing if not heartfelt. But, well — oh, just hurry up and get to the awesome.

If I may: advice columns, when they’re good, they’re GOOD. And by “good,” I mean not just good, wise, compassionate advice. I mean a good read, even for folks who are not struggling with the same issues as “Lovelorn” or “Confused.” Because at their best — best-written, that is — they are lovely and literate portraits of true, raw suffering and hope: a real-life micro-epistolary novel, a poetic precursor, even, to the talk and reality show. Some, over time, have been necessarily brief (so to speak), but now, thanks to Internet real-estate, they can flow into beautiful long-form, complete with backstory and metaphor and soaring free verse. I say “they,” but in fact, there are but few that fly as high as I describe. All of which is to say: Read Dear Sugar. Maybe start with this one, if it’s cool for you to cry at work. And then the rest. This, ladies and gentlemen, is advice; this, my peeps, is art. Read, weep, leap, cheer.

You’re welcome.

To me, this represents the pure hell-of-it feel-the-force joy of humanity that could make even the most breakingupiest of us crack a(n) (Obi) wan smile:

(Real it is, young Jedi.)

15 pounds = reason #23058 to adore Christina Hendricks:

“I guess my mom raised me right. She was very celebratory of her body. I never heard her once say, ‘I feel fat.’ Back when I was modeling, the first time I went to Italy I was having cappuccinos every day, and I gained 15 pounds. And I felt gorgeous! I would take my clothes off in front of the mirror and be like, Oh, I look like a woman. And I felt beautiful, and I never tried to lose it, ‘cause I loved it.”

From the July/August issue of Health. Via TheFrisky/HuffPo.

“No other journalist brings the seriously hot, vaguely bi-curious baby-making energy strategy talk like Brian Williams.”