Kristen Stewart? You mean that thing with the underbite?
Is it just me, or is Kristen Stewart just incredibly annoying? Why is she on the cover of every magazine trying to look tough with her greasy hair draped over one eye?
I’m sorry—it’s difficult for me to take you seriously as a teen outlaw type when that gargantuan jaw makes you look more down syndrome than desperado.
I would suggest learning to breathe through your nose.
Does anyone remember Stehanie Tanner from Full House? An uncanny resemblance, I’d say……
‘Oh I just love heroin! It makes me forget I
have the profile of a bulldog.’
Ewww!! Stephanie Tanner from Full House. Jodi Sweetin must’ve been the ugliest child star ever, aside from Danny Bonaduce that is.
Strangely enough though, Sweeten ended up being a far better bad ass than Kristen Stewart. She retired from acting before she was a legal adult, married a cop, and then he divorced her after he learned of her methamphetamine habit. You go Stephanie! Doing meth while married to a cop–now that takes balls.
FEAR: Stephanie ‘Balls’ Tanner
10 Signs You’re a Pseudo Intellectual
- Your role model is Jack Kerouac.
- You distribute copies of The Dharma Bums to potential elitists.
- You call your professor “Doc.”
- You are an atheist because it’s trendy.
- When you figured out Kerouac was Buddhist, you denounced your atheism, tried your hand at transcendence, and warmed up to the idea of communal living and organic dining.
- You listen to Vampire Weekend because they have a song called “Oxford Comma.”
- You play the song in the company of new friends and hope they’ll ask, “What’s an Oxford comma?” so you can explain and sound like a fountain of useless pseudo intellectual garbage that no one really ever needs to know.
- You don’t listen to Oxford Comma in the company of fellow Elitists.
- You think all attractive females are vapid and superficial….especially after one of them rejects you.
- You spend your free time writing eloquent, feather-pen requests to Steve Colbert in hopes he’ll speak at your school and have a beer with you later.
Diaries of a Little Warrior: A Faithful Martyr
Dear Diary,
I made it all the way to 6th period without a detention. I thought the gods were finally giving me a break.
I was almost out the doors when someone tripped me.
ON PURPOSE.
I felt obligated to defend myself…or rather, give justice where justice is needed. I snatched the #2 pencil out of my pony tail and stabbed the idiot in the thigh. He howled. I laughed.
His girlfriend screamed louder than him. Should’ve stabbed her too. Every faculty member in the joint charged me and held me by the arm until Officer “Dumbass” McNew came running like an overweight linebacker with Down’s.
Officer Dumbass stood over me and shook his head like he was SO DISAPPOINTED. But really he wasn’t disappointed or sad at all. He was happy.
He hauled me by my shirt sleeve to the Principal Larry’s office and dumped me in a chair; he held the pencil in his hand like a weapon of mass destruction. He said “Well, I caught one.” You would’ve thought he’d just rescued a burning bus full of pre-schoolers.
I told him he wasn’t even a real cop and that’s why he has to pick on little lambs such as myself.
He didn’t like that very much. He gave me a pink slip with one whole week’s worth of detentions.
He waited outside for my mom to come pick me up and put his hand on my shoulder like I was a criminal that needed to be restrained.
Mom wasn’t very happy, but Dad laughed. He’s sleeping on the couch tonight.
It’s difficult being misunderstood. It’s hard to be the bearer of truth, to live in the light, but someone’s gotta do it.
Useful quote for the day: “Eagles may soar, but weasels don’t get sucked into jet engines.”
(Saw it on a bumper sticker.)
Your faithful matyr,
Allison
Diaries of a Little Warrior: A Sheep Among Wolves
Dear Diary,
Today we read The Lamb. What in God’s name was that guy smoking and where can I find some?
What a massive pile of disingenuous orangutan manure.
Whatever happened to Shel Silverstein and asking questions that really matter like “where the hell does the sidewalk end?” I miss 5th grade. Middle school is a damper to my spirit.
Maybe old William and his wooly little beast can sit on that and spin—very delicately, of course.
In lieu of pointless poems, I wrote a little poem of my own in detention today.
I call it “Little Dog:”
Little Dog,
What spawned thee?
I know- a Daschund and a Corgi.
I love you anyway, Little Dog O’ Mine
Thou art short and stumpy with the speed of a tortoise,
And the heart of a large warrior cat of some sorts—
A Saber-toothed tiger perhaps. Those are bad ass.
Suck it, Blake.
Coach McMillen finally assigned me my own seat in detention, right by the window which is just fine by me.
He misspelled “detention.” What a dumbass.
When I corrected him he said not to worry about it, but I am worried that my young mind is being molded by a gym coach with a 4th grade reading comprehension.
That is enough for now; I hear the garage door opening. I’m sure Mom will have make much unnecessary ado over the bad marks on my progress report. Apparantly I suck at following directions, paying attention, staying in my seat, speaking without raising my hand and to top if off I am (allegedly) insubordinate, disruptive, and quarrelsome.
As predicted, they’ve send me like a sheep in the midst of the wolves.
I’ll report back tomorrow.
Love,
Allison
Valuable quote for the day: “It’s hard to soar like an eagle when you’re surrounded by turkeys.” -Annonymous
Work emails
King James Anthony, a.k.a. Jimmy Tony- he's a big deal.
I keep a separate folder at work for my emails from friends….just for bad days when I need a little sunshine. I needed some sunshine yesterday so I started sifting through the volumes and realized just how bizarre our communication truly is…….so I thought I should share some of our correspondence. Here it is, in no particular order of strangeness or hilarity:
EMAIL 1- On J. Alfred Prufrock’s attire (Devon’s submission)
“Those are great… This is one of my favorites:”
Devon: ”Where can I get some white flannel trousers?”
Me: “In the douche bag aisle.”
EMAIL 2- Me, showing my class
DS: “Mose Allison is this awesome jazz pianist… He has a voice like butter. I’ll send you some.”
Me: “I thought you said Moose for a second. I was like, oh that’s a sweet name. I shall name my first born Moose……..then give it to you because I don’t want kids. You can take care of it in your little concrete lair.”
EMAIL 3- Conversation concerning my friend’s fear of a company bathroom stalker:
DS: “Okay, something weird has been going on the last few days, and I haven’t said anything because I was afraid I was just being paranoid or homophobic… But I know I’m not, now…
See the picture? That is the bathroom in the sales office… We share it with them. See how close the urinal is to the sink?
Monday, I was peeing, and this guy from sales comes in and washes his hands… It struck me that he took a really long time to wash his hands, but I didn’t think anything of it. We said hello, which was uncomfortable for me… I like being alone… But I was okay.
Tuesday, I walk in the bathroom and stand at the urinal, not two seconds later dude walks in and begins to wash his hands. I’m done pissing by the time he finishes washing his hands. This time, he is really chatty, asking me how my day is and stuff. I chalked it up to coincidence.
Wednesday, same thing happens. I was totally weirded out, but still unsure.
IT JUST HAPPENED AGAIN. What do I do?!?”
ME: “This is quite possibly the funniest thing I’ve heard in a week (it would be a month if Eliot hadn’t prank called our former principal.) My advice to you—pee on him a little then say “oops,” giggle sheepishly. If he isn’t scared away by that…..hide cameras in there and claim sexual harassment. That’s no coincidence. “
DS: “He might like the pee, looks like he might…I can’t hide cameras in there!!!!!!! I could maybe record him coming in there on audio. This is freaking embarrassing… I can’t believe somebody actually grabbed you. I guess I’ll say something to him, if it happens again.”
EMAIL 4- Discussing my cat, Jimmy Tony
ME : “Jimmy Tony was reading his horoscopes last night. He is a fellow Aries- the sign of fire and impatience………..just look at those eyes—like two fiery coals……..”
EMAIL 5- Whining about my lunch to a friend
ME: “I’ll need to have a chat with pops tonight…….he neglected to put cheese on my sandwich. What was he thinking?”
EF: “You’ve got to be kidding me. Your parents make your lunch? Time for you to get some independence…geographically anyway, is a start. “
EMAIL 6- Another conversation with my uncle regarding Jimmy Tony’s most recent photo.
ME: “He’s not feeling very photogenic”
Uncle: “To be so skinny, he seems to have awfully meaty thighs.”
EMAIL 7-A misogynistic friend reflecting on the importance of spreading his seed without financial consequences/ expressing desire to find a sugar mamma:
ME: “You should gather your seeds someday…..bet your bastard children are between the ages of 3-15, right? You sound like you like kids.”
JS: “My nephews are 3 and 5. Cute little guys but quite the handful. I am not sure if I would go so far as to say I like kids. I like my nephews but I am not willing to extend it any further at this point.
I am not going to gather my seed until they are all 18 or older. No need for me to get roped into paying child support.”
ME: “There’s a dirty old bag in my neighborhood, her husband lucked up and finally died of a heart attack. Anyway, she sits on her porch and screams at cars to slow down even if they’re only going 15 mph. She’s loaded, about to give herself a stroke, and I assume has a penchant for young guys considering she has every college guy in town working as her pool boy in the summer. You two would be perfect together- 2 bitter, contrary little soul mates yelling and throwing sticks at the cars and animals passing by. I can see it now, you and your 90 year old battle ax.”
JS: “good. The older the better. I’d like to pull the men’s version of an Anna Nicole Smith if I could.”
EMAIL 8: Not asking for too much information, just a friendly “how’s your day?’
ME: “Hey, will you be at the show tonight? What have you been up to?”
MC: “Hey You! Sorry I didn’t get back to you yet… I spent a lot of time looking at porn yesterday.”
Email 8: Weighing the pros and cons of office ass kissing
DV: “I just had to kiss major butt. I hate kissing butt. I need some igniting…”
Me: “Ooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhh……..haha. muah, muah, muah. Thank you, may I have another? I NEVER do that. EVER. For any reason. This is why I will never be financially successful or liked. I would rather be poor, bitter, and feared.”
AWESOMENESS
I Date Winners
1. Matt was a bit of a snob. He didn’t talk to his neighbors because “they’re renters.” He liked to be trendy and wear $80 t-shirts that were eco-friendly to prove how much he loved the environment. (Never mind the fact he drove a Navigator & didn’t recycle.)
Matt broke up with me because I taunted his cat. True story.
2. Andrew had an inferiority complex because he was fat in high school and I learned, through many late night sob stories, that he never quite got over the ridicule and torment from his teenage years. He used to ask me “do these jeans make me look fat?” So, just to antagonize him and heighten his insecurities, I would reply “define fat.” I imagine I’m the one responsible for sparking his bulimia…….
Who would actually listen to me? I’m a liar.
3. Kenneth was defensive because he did not love himself, and for good reason. He was annoying and little terrifying. The smallest comment was perceived as a personal attack and warranted some witty rebuttal such as “you are” or “what’s that supposed to mean, bitch?” At first there was no malice behind my innocent comments but when I learned what a psycho I was dealing with, I got creative. I intentionally placed cryptic messages in everything I said to get a rise out of him and have some fun. My favorites include: “Wow, that zit on your head makes you look like a triclops!” and “My last boyfriend had visible muscles and little body weight, but he had more free time to work out than you did” or “well, I for one think your Napoleon complex is cute.”
4. Jacob set unrealistic goals for himself–big dreams, small brain, and zero motivation beyond his whimsical fantasies of an unattainable life. He was going to be something different every day, ranging from an astronaut, an M.D., a musician, an artist, and a war hero. I thought it best to let him dream and not interfere with his false sense of his abilities. At any rate, he was really annoying and I was looking forward to watching him fall flat on his face and realize that the real world held no important place for him. I was right, it didn’t, and when he realized he had no artistic or musical capabilities, couldn’t solve a simplistic chemistry equation if his life depended on it, and was afraid of heights, reality set in and he suffered an extreme mental collapse.
I fled shortly thereafter. The last I heard he was 26 and completing his last year of community college and bagging groceries at Publix. Aim low, you have a better chance of nailing your target…and for God’s sake, easy on the self-esteem!
5. Caleb was a philosophy major and an amateur photographer with a pseudo-artistic temperament. He skulked around all day and whined about life—“but what is life?” What is life really to the disgruntled, pampered, trustafarian wanderer?
When daddy foots the bill for a double major in philosophy and religion, then presents a fall-back plan to work for his company when his son decides he’s tired of wearing Rainbows and listening to Bob Dylan………………life can be anything you want.
I was eventually exhausted from hearing about his long walks in the park, his play-by-play analyses of a family of squirrels, the things he learned about relationships by watching frogs mate, and his zeal to start a protest….if he ever found anything worth protesting. He eventually used his undergraduate in philosophy to attend law school and is now a defense attorney.
“You’re reading Fitzgerald, you’re reading Hemingway,
They’re both super smart and drinking in the café.”
-Regina Spektor “Poor Little Rich Boy.”
A few things that make me uncomfortable:
And you thought the before photo was bad.......don't touch my food, Skank!
1. Meth addicts You know, I can sort of see how someone stupid might try heroin …it’s a little glamorized I guess. Former junkies definitely look like the streets have been hard, but their faces are usually still intact…but dear God, meth heads? Why in the world would anyone try this drug even once? There are chain emails and billboards plastered everywhere with those photos of the chronology of a meth users life and they’re pretty repulsive.
See?
Gag me.
There was a meth head that made my sandwich at Subway once. She was all hallowed and scabby looking so I pitched my chicken wrap in the garbage bin outside. I could never eat knowing those crusty hands made my food. Repulsive.
2. People who stand too close in check out lines:
You know who I am talking about. If you’re one of those people, someday someone’s going to head butt you and make you wish you hadn’t clung to their heels like an impatient donkey. The last thing I want to see in my peripheral when I’m standing in the check out aisle at Target is a slack jawed Neanderthal fogging up my glasses.
3. Pentecostals: I went to a Pentecostal church once with my friend from elementary school because her father was the preacher. He was screaming so loud his eyes were bulging out of his head. What’s more, he spoke in a language that sounded strangely demonic. Come to think of it, he sounded just like the little girl who masturbates with the cross in the Exorcist. Hey, I’m just saying!
I report, you decide.
Jersey Shore Cast- The Excrement of Society
Nice tan, Genital Wart. You looked like a re-heated cow pie.
In the words of Ignatius Riley, “What degenerate spawned this abortion?”
Why, MTV of course; the music television network strangely void of music and the creators of everything else that sucks about pop culture.
The Jersey Shore cast is pretty much identical, their artificial skin color is not one found in nature, but Crayola came pretty damn close with a shade called Burnt Sienna. It sort of looks like the rusted metal of my old tricycle when I left it out in the rain a few days, so I’ll just say they’re rusted-metal colored.
I saw a spoof of Jersey Shore on SNL a while back before I knew the reality show from perdition actually existed. Curiosity eventually got the best of me and I watched the actually Jersey Shore and realized the SNL parody was not so much a parody as much as an amazingly realistic portrayal of 8 spray-tanned barbarian booze-hounds living in the armpit of the US. The cast of SNL should win Oscars this year.
(Fortunately I saw the one where the short, pig-looking woman got drilled in the face by some random dude at a bar she’d apparently pissed off. Stupid MTV wouldn’t actually show the footage of her getting harpooned in the jaw which was just stupid. Some women need to get a good beat down every now and then- especially that one.)
Since a few of these barn yard fouls decided to give themselves nicknames, I’ve decided to rename them with ones I find more appropriate:
Nicole “Snooki”
Snooki looks like she would smell like hot sewage and regurgitated canned dog food. I’m not sure what a “snooki” is, but I would want a full round of vaccinations before I went within a mile radius of her so I’ve decided to rename her simply “Genital Wart.”
Mike “The Situation”
Whoa there, greasy dumpster cowboy, enough with the euphemisms already. You’re not so much a situation as you are a mishap, but even that is optimistic. The Situation parades his tangerine pigmentation and helmet hair with the cool confidence of an experienced rapist. I hereby anoint you “God’s Mistake.”
Sammi “Sweetheart”
Sweetheart defined the origin of her name in Jersey terms, “I’m the sweetest bitch you’ll ever meet.” I would be afraid of person who said this to me, especially one who looks as constipated and nervous as that skank. I’m not convinced. No one who buys their wardrobe at the Body Shop and their jewelry from Claire’s Accessories has the disposition of anyone who resembles a “sweetheart.” From this day forward I shall call you Heinous Lying Road Kill Leakage.
According to the Los Angeles Times, Jersey Shore pulled in a record breaking number of viewers…….the reunion special drew in 4 million spectators.
God help us all.
Advice for Bad Parents
She didn't take any crap from her kids. Why should you?
A friend of mine unfortunately dragged me to Red Robin last night against my will, but I tried to make the best of it. So I’m sitting in the booth, choking down those nasty gigantic fries with no flavor, and wondering if there’s anything I hate more than this cheesy restaurant, when this disgusting little boy leans over our booth, about 2 inches from my face, and smiles at me before sticking his tongue out of his big, retarded head.
Oh yea- If there’s anything I abhor more than loud, tacky restaurants that hand out crayons at the door, it’s those obnoxious kids who lean over the booth and stare at you while their rude, degenerate parents pretend not to notice. I don’t really think it’s fair that I should have to take that kind of abuse from other people’s children. I don’t understand why I can’t stab them in the neck with my salad fork just because they’re not mine. What’s worse is that not only am I not able to ask them to get out of my face, I’m also not allowed to complain about it without looking like a jerk.
I realized this rule when I was on a first date a few years and politely asked the family sitting behind me to keep their child away from our table. Both the parents and my date criticized me for my reasonable request. I’m sorry, but it was a little too distracting to conduct a proper first date with a crusty-fingered little brat swinging from the back of my chair. My date accused me of hating children and kept smiling apologetically and shaking his head at the kid and his parents like “I’m so sorry, this is our first date, and I didn’t know what an insensitive bitch she was.” He didn’t even know this family! Who cares if they hated him! (Needless to say I neither wanted nor got another date with him. What a loss for him. I bet he’s sitting at a Red Robin right now, his vile rude children scaring people, wishing to God he’d popped that kid in the head and given me a high five when he had the chance. Oh well.)
I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask parents to restrain their children from invading my personal space and breathing their nasty germs on me…but apparently it is. I’ve compiled a list with some other alternatives to kill two birds to terrify/humiliate the parents and get the kid away from me and most likely the entire restaurant, while not criticizing anyone’s parenting skills. See below:
- Write down your number, kiss the paper with lipstick, and ask “can you give this to your Daddy? “
- Tell him Santa isn’t real. If you live in the South, tell him Jesus isn’t real.
- Offer the kid a sip of Jack Daniels.
- Dare him to eat his food of the floor like a puppy- kids love that shit. Then ask “how does the puppy go?” in your most sweet, sing-song, I-love-children voice. If the entire restaurant isn’t giving the parents an appalling look sing “I can’t heeee-aaar you.”
- Explain the procedure of a Dirty Sanchez. Convince the child to educate the server when they bring desert.
Most of these will probably shame the parents into beating their children in the restroom, the parking lot, or at home. They’ve also taught a valuable lesson about trusting strangers and the awful truth that kids are stupid and will repeat anything they hear. Either way, they’re out of your sight which is really all that matters. Bad children are products of parental failures.
Facebook Feeds: Do you need attention? Aww..Do You?
I miss the olden days back in 2003 when Facebook didn’t have all these newfangled, hare-brained ideas like enabling people I don’t even want to look at send me a virtual hug and those who were too scared to make eye contact with me in high school send me an anonymous comment in “honesty” box about what a raging bitch I am. I’m pretty sure those same people will be changing their names and high-tailing it to Canada when Facebook pops up with a new device to reveal the anonymous chicken shit behind the badass virtual facade……..
I liked Facebook when it was exciting and old faces from the past were popping up left and right. I loved finding that old boyfriend that dumped me in high school so I could congratulate him on his new house with wheels and his new wife that can barely squeeze into it. I even found a few teachers I particularly loathed and finally gave them a piece of my mind without getting hauled to an administrator’s office.
But now….the thrill is gone, and unfortunately people got all crazy and thought other people might care about every second of their day on their stupid status feeds……I don’t. I have a sneaking suspicion I won’t find anything interesting coming from a person who finds 10 minute intervals in their busy day to tell me about the mindless garbage that pilfers through their insipid, yet narcissistic skulls.
Here are just of few of the millions of things I don’t want to know about you:
1. That you had a bowel movement this morning and a bag of Skittles at lunch.
I need to know about your diet and regularity as much as I need a taser at work.
2. That your boyfriend/girlfriend dumped you.
It was probably because you wouldn’t pay them enough attention because you were too busy throwing goats at people and updating your friends about how bad you need a lobotomy on Facebook.
3. That your husband is coming home from his business trip to Chicago tonight and you’re just SO excited.
What does your relationship with him have to do with anyone else? He didn’t feel the need to tell everyone about his trip or how many girls he banged. Why should you?
4. That you are “just SO sad today.” Unfortunately, I don’t care that you’re sad, just like you wouldn’t care if I were sad.
Pipe down and just do what I do- get a prescription for whatever mood ails you so. Trust me, there’s a pill for everything and I have them all.
5. That it’s Monday and you just finished watching seasons I through IV of Friends while consuming an entire batch of hash brownies. Tee-hee! How funny is that?!
I guess it’s not quite as funny as it was in high school now that you have 2 kids to support and random drug tests administered by well-meaning social workers at Defax.
6. That your favorite reading material is Cosmopolitan.
Dear God, all I need is more anger towards my generation’s stupidity to fuel my road rage during rush hour traffic.
7. That you’re in love…..aaahh…….
It’ll pass. And when it does I’m sure I’ll be lucky enough to have all the mundane details plastered all over my screen when I log in.
8. That you’re “over it.”
I call horseshit. If you were actually over whatever it is your still obviously writhing mad about, you wouldn’t feel the need to share the fact in order to conjure attention from idiots desperate enough to give it. You’re not aloof and you’re not fooling anyone. We know you’re sitting behind your computer clicking refresh waiting for someone to give a damn.
9. That your going to see Alice in Wonderland tonight and you’re so excited!
You should be excited to live in a gracious country that allows bad people to see good movies. Tim Burton doesn’t care that you’re going to see his film any more than I do because he’s so awesome that he doesn’t need anyone to advertise his awesomeness ….kind of like Hollister doesn’t need to advertise their cheap, tacky clothes to future skank reality show contestants. It’s one of those “if you build it they will come kinda things.” Too obvious, just shut up.
10. Anything about your personal hygiene. You are the kind of person who will probably use the toilet with the door open in front of your husband. I didn’t marry you, therefore I shouldn’t have to hear about it.
Most of us eat, clip our toenails, and have relationship problems. That being said, don’t fool yourself into believing that these things are somehow special if they apply to you. They’re not and you’re not either, so unless it’s March of 2010 and you’ve not had a bowel movement since June 2009.…you’re ordinary at best.
