Re: Meghan McCain

I got only a few grafs into the piece, and I hit this part:

She leads me into the kitchen. On a perch above the cabinets, wooden block letters are arranged to spell indulge. Meghan then invites me to inspect her refrigerator, like the celebrities do on MTV Cribs. Inside are some Bud Light cans, a six-pack of Stella Artois, and twelve cups of Jell-O pudding.

The daughter of the National Greatness, Traditionalist “Conservative” John McCain either eats out, or dines nightly on Bud and pudding. That’s neat. It’s also emblematic of just how inept a lot of 20 year-olds are. A guy from GQ comes by your place, and you’re actually proud that you don’t have milk, eggs, and some basic signs of a culinary lifestyle in your fridge? C’mon!

Then there’s this bleak sign of the times:

Alas, the tour stops here. Meghan won’t show me her bedroom’s too messy, she says.

GQ writer Greg Veis, fearless reporter, is willing to go where none of us dare to go. But he also forgets something. GQ stands for GENTLEMAN’S QUARTERLY. Keyword: GENTLEMAN. Editors likely cut Veis’s attempt to get into her bathroom cabinet, as well as whether Meghan’s body wash was sufficiently pretty-smelling.

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