Until I see this for myself.

I have, let’s say, an unhealthy inter­est in Celine Dion (and her creepy hus­band, and her ginormo house). Mostly the house. OK, hon­estly? And the husband.

I had sort of for­got­ten about the Mai­son That Ter­ri­ble Songs Built until Ele­ments of Style posted more pics.

I’m spar­ing you the water park.

The only thing keep­ing me from dri­ving up to Jupiter Island (it’s only an hour away!) to see this for myself is fear. Can I actu­ally get on the island, and if so, if I drive slowly and peer through hedges and gates, will I be arrested?

While we’re on the topic, René, I still worry that you might eat les bébés.