I hate celebrities. I hate how they can't string two intelligent sentences together. I hate the fact that they can make me wait despite their Neanderthal pustule genus. i hate it that 7 pages will be devoted to their measly outpourings when there is so much else to write on. but most of all I HATE the faceless stream of humanity, the kind who laps it all up, sitting on their pots every morning. THAT is what I work for - people's toilet read. If everyone, for one blessed day stopped expecting escapism packaged as news, it would be sweet salvation. But it isn't going to happen, is it? At least not tomorrow. So let me trot along then and finish my tete-e-tete with Sush over sushi. I have already had the pleasure of almost getting to talk to adults with names like Guddu, Chee-chee, Boo-boo or Bebo and the rest of their ilk. Smita Smitten, Showbiz Kitten dies on Tuesday with this blighted cover story.