I don’t read gossip magazines. I don’t follow celebrity blogs or Twitter feeds, I don’t watch E! or Extra or TMZ. To be perfectly honest, I’m not even sure if those are the “popular” celebrity sites or shows; those are just the ones I remember flipping past on the television when I do watch my late night reruns. Part of the reason is that it makes me feel old – either they’re showing videos and photos people like Dakota Fanning and Abigail Breslin doing grown up things when in my head, they are permanently ten years old – or they make me feel dirty and old, i.e. showing a picture of Taylor Lautner shirtless and I’m all “Ooh, yummy,” until I remember that he was probably still in diapers when I graduated high school and then I’m all, “Ew, I’m old enough to be a cougar,” and have a drink instead of continuing to hurt my own feelings. Another part of the reason? Is that I despise everything Kim Kardashian and it is fucking impossible to watch any sort of gossip/celebrity show without that stupid bag of hair smiling beatifically for a photo-op with that walking piece of arrogance she’s engaged to.
But the biggest reason of all is shit like this interview with Mariah Carey in which she compares her time on American Idol to working with Satan every day. I had to read the whole thing because I thought to myself, “That’s impossible. She wouldn’t actually say something so ridiculous.” She did. Read the article. Her exact words? “It was like going to work every day in hell with Satan.”
Really, Mariah? Was it really so bad? Was it really just so, so, very difficult to get paid 18 fucking million dollars to judge a talent show? 18 million dollars. Do you have any concept of how much money that actually is?
THINGS I WOULD DO FOR 18 MILLION DOLLARS
Yes – Pretty much anything
No – Eat a baby
I once had a manager when I was waiting tables whose night was not complete unless he made someone cry. He would scream profanities at you that didn’t even make sense, “Fucking yes bread is slow stop waiting dammit go!” “Don’t care steak broken fryer!” and my favorite, a horrifying Hunger Games version of red light green light, “Get out! Where are you going! Get that out! Get back here! What are you waiting for?! Pay attention and stop!” until you were slip sliding in your own sweat holding a full tray of food above your head with one hand, questioning every life choice you ever made. Do you know how much money I made doing that four or five times a week for three years, Mary Poppins? Three dollars an hour. And do you know what else? I did it with a fucking smile, because I had a job and I was grateful. How long would you make it in a regular job, Ms. Mariah? As a mail carrier, a receptionist, a customer service rep? A nurse, a social worker, a teacher? You’re a very lucky woman. You were born with an extraordinary talent that you’ve used to your advantage, which ensures that you will never actually have to “work,” in the real world a day in your life. From what the article stated, part of your problem is that Nicki Minaj called you “insecure,” and “bitter.” Instead of having the audacity to feel sorry for yourself, prove her wrong. Take a look around and be happy and humble at what life has provided you with. Or at least get a better publicist that will advise you against complaining about the show that paid you 18 million dollars in one year to sit on a stage and look pretty.
Haven’t done the Friday Blast Off: What I Said vs. What I Meant in awhile, mostly because the past few weeks it probably would have consisted of “What I Said – Nothing,” and “What I Meant – YOU DAMN JACKHOLE, GET IT TOGETHER!” But something caught my eye this week that made me actually roll my eyes out loud, if that’s possible. Going through Yahoo! news earlier in the week, I came across the headline, “Kanye West’s On-Stage rant: Rapper disses Taylor Swift, Jay-Z, Justin Timberlake in London.” And even thought I knew – I KNEW – it was going to make me want to punch my computer, I clicked on it.
Hey guess what? I was right. Here’s three people/things he said really smart stuff about. And by really smart stuff I mean – Oh, right, you are still a fucking idiot and please fall off my planet.
Poor little Taylor. She’s come under some fire lately, most notably because that whole teen-angst thing that has made her famous has kind of played itself out. If you wanted to date her before, you’re scared to now because you are for sure going to end up the chorus of a song detailing what a heartbreaking bastard you are. (She was too young for you anyway, John Mayer, you dirty bird.) That being said, the girl is still selling millions of albums and selling out arenas all over the world and continues to win awards; she’s clearly doing something right. Despite this, Kanye once again dissed her in comparison to Beyonce, seemingly apropos of nothing. What, exactly, has this girl done to him that makes him so publicly criticize her? I mean, if he was having a baby with Beyonce or married to her, I could at least get the reasoning behind it. But he’s not. In fact, he’s having a baby with the most talentless bag of hair I’ve ever seen. (Oh yes, still so much hate for the Kardashians.) And it’s not like Beyonce’s some big underdog that needs his championing. In fact, if I had to guess, she would probably rather not be associated with this idiot at all.
Dissing Jay-Z and Justin Timberlake’s New Song
Which brings me to my next point. I may not be in the music industry, and I while I do love me some rap I realize that knowing every single word to Eazy-E’s “Gimme Dat Nutt,” while impressive, does not make me extremely knowledgeable about the background of the genre. (Totally true story. I also do Eminem’s “Without Me,” at karaoke. Want to surprise a DJ? Be a blond white girl in your thirties and put your name in on that song.) Keeping that in mind, one thing I do know is that Jay-Z kind of helped make you, Mr. Art School. And as of this writing, I have yet to find anyone that dislikes Justin Timberlake. The man has somehow crossed that line where men want to be him and women want to – um – be with him. I predict there will be many a song released in the next year with the same vibe as “Suit and Tie.” These two are powerhouses, like them or not. They could come out with a song with duck calls and cats meowing and I promise you people will be fighting each other to find the next underappreciated animal noise. They’re just that good.
Mocking Artists Who Take Money for Endorsements.
Right, kind sir, you probably started that whole clothing line because you have a deep, abiding love for fashion and that’s your life dream. And the other products you’ve endorsed, you’ve probably just really believed in their message, right? Like Pepsi changed your life and you need to broadcast and help spread their words? Please. Do you think that previously mentioned bag of hair you impregnated with your demon spawn isn’t going to exploit the hell out of every single product that child touches/uses/wears? During his tirade, he sings, “”Remind me again why we in this s***? Since when was making art about getting rich?” You dick. You. Dick. You just dropped $11 MILLION on a house and are worth about $90 million. Please, tell me more about how you are only doing this for your art and you don’t care about the money.
I’m not denying Kanye’s talent, as he surely has it. He’s an excellent producer and songwriter – hey, he’s famous for a reason, at least, unlike his rotten pregnant girlfriend. But his true colors have been bleeding through for awhile, and what they’re showing is an extreme air of entitlement and an inflated sense of self worth that’s bordering on narcissistic personality disorder and we all need to STOP CARING.
Because if we don’t, in 15 years we’re all going to obsessively listening to someone called Kimye and honestly? I can’t live in that world. I just can’t.
Here we are in a new year, folks! Happy 2013! It’s the time of year everyone’s going to lose weight, stop smoking, get control of the clutter in our lives, and stop watching so much damn TV. Right? Bullshit. Ask me in November 2013 what’s changed since January and I guarantee most responses will be something along the lines of, “Yeah, what the fuck ever. I was probably drunk when I said that.” I’m all for resolutions and wanting to better your life, but as I’ve stated before, every time I make them I end up in a pile of Weight Watchers cookbooks somewhere around January 15th, smoking a cigarette, looking for my shoes while partially mesmerized by an NCIS marathon and eating mashed potatoes.
Just me? Okay. I can buy that – perhaps some of you actually stick to what you say you’re going to do. That being said, it’s four days in and I am already irritated by the anticipated celebrity news that’s going to to fucking polarize everyone in the upcoming year. Here’s a few people that I promise you are going to be sick of by May.
Kim Kardashian and Kanye West and their vile offspring.
Yeah, cause you’re super excited to hear about this for the next couple of months, aren’t you? Two of the most irritating, talentless, money-hungry assholes in Hollywood are going to HAVE A BABY??? Well thank Christ cause you know what we need? More kids that think the world is theirs for the taking despite a lack of any discernable skill. That’s pretty much what America’s been missing. And as a service to you, you don’t need to look at a tabloid for the next six months – here’s the headlines.
“Kim’s Baby Bump!”
“Kanye to Kim – You’re Too Fat!”
“Kim to Kanye – Leave Me and My Baby Alone!”
“Kim and Kanye Cheating Scandal! Kim tells Kanye, ‘You’re Not the Father!'”
“Bruce Jenner, ‘Oh For the Love of Fuck. Someone Kill Me.'”
“Kanye and Kim’s $3Million Nursery!”
You know how this ends? #kimye #yourparentssuck #sorryyouhavenochanceofnotbeinganasshole
(And yeah. It really hurt to say kimye. But you know it’s happening. You do. Give it a minute.)
Rihanna and Chris Brown
So they’re back together, and super happy about it. Am I the only one who doesn’t care? I don’t know what happened back in 2009. What I do know is that these are two grown adults, both of whom have access to the best resources available for anger management and domestic abuse issues. If EITHER of them choose not to take advantage, I. Don’t. Care. Does anyone else not want to hear about this shit for another year? The only reason these two are stlll relevant is because he beat the crap out of her before an awards show. I don’t care to follow the rest of this dysfunctional relationship through another year of Grammy’s and VMA’s. Now we’re going to celebrate their “music achievements?” Fuck you. If he was average Joe he’d be in jail (I hope,) and if she were Average Jane she’d be in a shelter. Fuck you both for glorifying it. I don’t want to hear about your damn romance for the next year. Cause I. Don’t. Care. Have I mentioned that?
Mariah Carey vs. Nicki Minaj
Hi. Perhaps no one mentioned to you two that American Idol has been obsolete since 2008. And possibly before then. Ladies? Paula Abdul quit. Paula. Fucking. Abdul. That didn’t give you the clue this show was jumping the fucking shark? Ryan Seacrest has replaced Dick fucking Clark and the only reason I can possibly fathom he’s still around is due to a contract signed way before he knew his white teeth, small stature, and radio voice would make him millions. I’m not disparaging either Mariah’s or Nicki’s talent – they both have it in spades, albeit in different formats. That being said, Ryan. Seacrest. Is probably making more on this show than you. You don’t get to have a diva fight. Because Ryan. Fucking. Seacrest. is more popular than you two. Stop judging. He’s the bigger diva. Yeah, I know it’s sad. But I’m not in charge of everything, despite my repeated requests. Life’s a bitch, girls.
In short, to say that I’m not excited about the celebrity news that’s forthcoming in 2013 might be an understatement. But unless Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift make a love child, this is what we’re dealing with.
And if I ever have to write “Justtay” or “Biebswift” I’m punching everyone in the ears; I don’t care whose fault it is.
Happy New Year!
No, this isn’t going to be another assault on the Kardashians and why they are ruining the world.
(They do, in fact, need to be punched repeatedly. But that’s not my focus today.)
(And for the record, it’s mostly Kim. The other ones could be very nice people for all I know. )
(I guess she could be a nice person too. But anyone who’s rotten enough to spend 20 grand on a WEDDING CAKE deserves a swift kick in the rear, at least, regardless of disposition.)
Argh. Okay. This post is not about the Kardashians. It’s about the “Human Barbie.” Yes, you read that correctly, apparently there really is a person idiotic enough to spend NEARLY ONE MILLIONS DOLLARS on plastic surgery in a (completely fruitless) attempt at looking like every young girl’s favorite self-esteem-destroyer.
Have you folks heard of this dummy? Here’s her page. Please, feel free. Take a moment. Form your opinion. It won’t take long.
Now, I have a lot of not-so-nice things to say about this woman. But that would likely lead to a rant on how we need to stop glamorizing these people and giving them money and that will probably lead me right back to the damn Kardashians. And I’m not doing that again tonight. In addition, she’s 51 years old and free to mutilate herself as much as she’d like. Keep going until you turn into a white, female version of Michael Jackson. See if I care.
No, my problem with this whacko stems from the Christmas gift she gave her daughter. Who is seven. SEVEN. For those of you curious, but not curious enough to click the link, the gift in question is a voucher. Which is a pretty shitty gift for a seven-year-old in itself, come to think of it, but the real issue lies with what the voucher is for. Which is — wait for it — $11,000 in liposuction, to be used at a later date. Because, and I quote, “She asks for surgery all the time. She wants to look good and liposuction is one of those procedures that will always come in handy.”
Let’s break that down, shall we? First, I mean, of course she asks for surgery all the time. Of course she does! I know when I was seven, plastic surgery was all I could concentrate on. I sure wasn’t thinking about my Cabbage Patch Kids or gum or getting the brush my friend Becca got stuck in my hair out without telling my mom. My main concern on a daily basis was obviously, “Gosh, my only hope is that when I’m super old, like 18, and get fat and lumpy like Mommy says I will, I will be able to afford liposuction.”
Second, “Liposuction is one of those procedures that will always come in handy.” While I’ve definitely thought this in my adult life, (Thanksgiving ’07 comes to mind, as well as that time I saw pictures of myself from Halloween and thought, Hmm. So THAT’s what I would look like if I actually managed to eat myself,) there’s not one reason in the world a seven-year-old child should. Also, you know what else might “come in handy?” 11 grand towards a fucking college education, you stupid woman. Or, in your case, it’s likely best used towards therapy to undo all of the damage you’re inflicting on young Poppy.
It’s really not funny at all. This woman obviously has some major problems and could do with a healthy bout of therapy herself. But this poor little girl – how much of a chance does she have for a healthy image of herself, in any respect, as she gets older? She’s just being set up for a lifetime of unhappiness and continuously striving for the impossible.
And don’t today’s girls have enough to deal with? Shit, adolescence was a nightmare for me, and that was (way) before Britney and her little schoolgirl uniform made it just that much harder for everyone. (In retrospect, being an acne-riddled, glasses-wearing, braces-having tuba player with a perm did me no favors, but my point remains the same.)
Maybe Poppy has some other support system in the form of a family friend or sister or aunt who is not batshit insane. I hope she does. I hope that this little girl manages to not turn into the freak show her mother is and she develops some self-worth from something other than her looks.
Most of all, I hope when she turns 18 and can use those vouchers, she looks at her mother, rips them up, and says proudly, “Fuck you. I’m perfect the way I am.”
It’s that time of year again! The time when everyone resolves to lose weight, quit smoking, save money, integrate organization into their chaotic lives, etc. While these goals are certainly admirable, I’ve found in trying the above for several years running that all it accomplishes is a crushing sense of defeat somewhere around January 16th when I’m sitting in a pile of Weight Watchers cookbooks I bought for $35, up a pound and a half at my last weigh in, cigarette in hand, trying to remember where I put my shoes.
(Side note – Statistically, the third Monday in January is the saddest day of the year. The resolutions are broken, the weather is miserable, and there’s no holiday until Memorial Day unless you’re a teacher. Or, um, have no job. Which, incidentally, doesn’t help.)
On that note, this year I have only one goal: find a job. Preferably one which does not make me want to stab myself in the eye with a fork. But as this is less of a resolution than a necessity, I’ve compiled a list of things that might make us all much happier, should we all choose to abide by them.
Please note – I am NOT EXEMPT from being a part of the below categories. While not all of of them apply to my life, the majority likely do.
Stop. Watching. The. Kardashians.
Seriously. Enough is enough. “Kendall’s Sweet 16,” “Keeping Up with the Kardashians,” “Kim and Kourtney Take New York,” “Kourtney and Khloe Take Miami,” “Khloe and Lamar,” and the list is apparently going to go on and on and on until we STOP THE MADNESS. It is our own fault that this insipid girl and her entire family is able to make millions and millions for absolutely no reason. In addition, we are perpetuating a very bad cycle that tells young girls, “If you’re somewhat pretty and have money, you don’t have to be anything else! Just continue being as dumb as a bag of fish and people will pay you!” There is simply no reason these people are famous save for an obviously fabulous publicist and the fact that WE KEEP WATCHING THEM. If they take over the world, I’m blaming you.
While We’re At It, Let’s Just Not Make Any More Reality TV.
Can you get on board with me on this one? Because as it stands, the ratio of reality TV to new concepts is about 17/1. The categories are Weight Loss, Talent, Eating Scorpions, Marrying Someone Rich, and Trivia. That’s it, folks. No need for 15 subcategories under each heading. Pretty soon we’re going to have “Fat People Eating Only Bugs to Survive While Meeting Their Millionaire Spouse, but Only If They Can Name All Of The State’s Capitals While Walking on a Tightrope,” and that is the day my head will explode and all of our world leaders give up completely.
(Edited: I forgot the teen moms. But they need to go, too. See also, “Kardashians – People to Stop Glamorizing.”)
Baggy Pants or Skinny Jeans: Pick a Style, Boys.
I understand that fashion trends come and go. I also understand most people over 30, myself included, will not understand or agree with these trends. I’m okay with this. I get now why my parents used to cringe in the 90’s and why my mother wanted to burn my overalls. While I want to shave every young man’s head I see with Justin Bieber’s haircut, I understand it is fashionable, and they will laugh at themselves in years to come, just as we do when looking at those pictures of the “Wall of Bangs” that was known as the late eighties/early nineties. But I simply cannot get on board with skintight jeans, fastened with a belt securely underneath the rear end of a ninety pound teenager. HOW DO YOU WALK?? Be a hipster, be a gangster, but please pick one. You can’t do both. Because I’ve walked behind you, and the fact that you have to shuffle because your pants are ridiculous slows me down.
Let’s Cut Back on the Facebook, Shall We?
Now, anyone who knows me is laughing at this. I love Facebook. A lot. I get a majority of my news from it, keep up with old friends and acquaintances, and post many a vapid thought on it. I am “that girl” on Facebook quite often, and for the most part, I’m okay with it. It’s an indescribable, primal urge that requires me to post a picture of where I’m at and who I’m with on the rare occasions I go anywhere, as though if I don’t post it, it didn’t actually happen. Now, as addictions go, it’s not a bad one; it’s free, it’s not (physically) unhealthy, and doesn’t hurt anyone. But now that it is one step away from putting a chip in me and posting my comings and goings without my knowledge, I’m getting scared. I’m not saying to stop Facebook, as I have no intentions of doing so. I am saying to stop adding features that may or may not publicize the fact that I’m in my bathroom.
Let’s Go Back To Naming Babies Actual Names.
Here’s a few celebrity baby names from 2011: Genesis, Gemma, Arlo, Hattie, Colt, Weston, Spike, Xander, Milo, Clover, Haven, Indiana, Arabella, Kase, Bingham, Cree, Aleph, Cleo, Bear Blu, Kannon, Moroccan, Coco Reese, Ever, and Locklyn.
Never mind that I want to put the parents of said children in a pillowcase of porcupines (extra sharp ones for the p’s of Clover, Cree, and ALEPH,) but seriously? These are barely words, let alone names! Let’s just all get past the “oh so original and creative” names as well as the Tyler/Taylor/Aiden/Aidan/Madyson/Madison/Skylar/Skyler-I-have-no-idea-if-you’re-a-boy-or-girl mess and go back to Johnny and Bobby teasing Jennifer and Sarah on the swingsets, shall we? Because giving your child a name like the above sets the bar WAY TOO HIGH. They absolutely have to be the coolest kid in school or else they’re going to get the shit beat out of them with a name like Bingham. Sure, they may grow into it and it’s a fabulous name for an actor but the middle school years? Are going to suck. A lot.
No More Wearing Big, Stupid, Outfits in the Name of “Art.”
I’m sorry, but a meat dress? Is not art. It’s just not. It’s fucking disgusting. I’m happily willing to admit that I’m not an artist, and I have enough self-awareness that I realize that just because I don’t like or understand something doesn’t make it stupid. But there are some things that are just stupid. And that meat dress was one of those things. The outfits Katy Perry and Nicki Minaj wore at that one awards show (I can’t find the pictures. Google searching “Outrageous Outfits, Nicki Minaj,” surprisingly did not turn up what I was looking for,) that made them look like a three-year-old on hallucinogenics dressed them also fall in this category. NOT ART. You’re beautiful. You have a fabulous body. You can wear anything and look stunning. Don’t pick something that makes you look like a goddamn fruit salad.
(Edited: Apparently the meat dress was last year. My point remains the same.)
No More Rappers for Five Years.
With the exception of Pitbull (and Nicki Minaj, actually,) everyone that has emerged in this genre since Eminem has pretty much sucked. Talking fast to a beat does not make you a musician. Yelling “YEEAH” in the background of a good beat does not make you a musician. It makes you lucky. Let’s stop giving these people money, yes? Because I’m tired of hearing three variations of the same damn song every fifteen minutes. All of you, think of some new shit, get some new beats, find some new words, and then we’ll buy your stuff. Stop recycling. You don’t even have to pull your pants up, just be original, for God’s sake.
Thoughts? Am I just getting old and intolerant? Or would my suggestions make for a better 2012?