Ya know, if I was in politics, I’d rather work my tail off on getting a bill that will make the rich pay their share of taxes as opposed to pushing the message on my rental dress at some overrated event populated by a bunch of egotistic, out-of-touch, rich bitches that I know will look the other way when they see said message on my dress.
Yep, I had to say it, AOC. I still like you and will vote for you if and when you run for President. But, in the words of queen Tatianna, choices.
Side note: who in the hell is getting invited to the Mess Gala these days? Yeah, I know it’s all to support some museum, but if the likes of the Real Housewives, some reality show hobbit, and Crappi B get to attend and are considered “fashion” these days, I’d rather be out of style (which, if you look at my wardrobe, I’ve been so for years) and have the museum go broke!
I keep seeing these beauty brands and collabs involving those who-dats not even worthy of Z-list status, aka social media influencers, and I’m wondering when will I ever see a collab involving someone I’ve actually heard of? Like a real celebrity that’s worth my time? I was browsing stuff on the Sephora app recently, and two things. One: what’s a Hyram? And two: when I saw that Addison Rae, supposedly an influencer but I really don’t know her, is going to do something with Sephora (really?), I instantly went to YouTube to watch this clip of forever A-list celebrity star queen goddess of everything Dame Joan Collins as Alexis Carrington Colby to give me real star power!
Iconic! Dame Joan may not be doing a collab with Sephora anytime soon, but that’s Sephora’s loss. Sephora would be grateful if Dame Joan bothered to think about them.
And granted, some celebs are major enough to launch their own brand, but for once I just want to see a brand collab with a true legend like, oh, Dolly Parton or Mariah Carey. A Dolly-inspired eyeshadow palette? Lipsticks curated by Mimi and named after her greatest hits? Take my money already!
Me as an SF Giants fan and seeing some other Giants fans having the audacity to root for a team that cheated during a World Series (and never got punished for it) over their long-time rivals that’s playing the cheaters today:
I get wanting those bums in blue to lose; it’s tradition. But rooting for those cheating bitches?! It’s like deciding which STD you’d rather have. How about considering neither!!!
What am I doing posting here when I should instead be working on converting my finished story into an eBook and marketing it to y’all? Yes, I need to reevaluate my priorities, but when you’ve been busy with your regular job the past week and all you want to do when you get home after a long work day is stick your feet in the feet massager (that you got for $5 at a thrift store, TYVM) while binge-watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer, why should I bother.
I’ll get the eBook project going, I swear.
While shopping at a Home Goods yesterday, I saw a book called (IIRC) Luxury Gifts For Men. Curious over what those gifts were, I skimmed the book. Oddly, a kinky night with a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Model isn’t listed, but there were some gifts they had that I would’ve loved. They featured a Bugatti, a private island, a stay at a French chalet, and I’m wondering who the hell made that book “gifts for men” only?! Sheeit, some women and non-binaries want those gifts, too! All the more reason to make some things gender-neutral.
Much congrats to the Milwaukee Bucks for winning the NBA Finals! A part of me pined for a Game 7, and it almost looked like the series was going to get that after that second quarter. But I’m happy for the team, and for the city of Milwaukee. This year’s Finals was one I actually enjoyed, partially because it involved two unexpected teams in cities shamefully overlooked by the major sports media.
Dat big-ass crowd outside the Bucks arena, tho. Pandemic or not, I can’t do those things anymore. Because getting old.
Finally, nothing says insecure choad than a grown-ass person addressing their “haters” on their social media over something trivial. It’s one thing if you do that when you’re a teen, but if you’re doing that shit in your mid-30s, just fucking stop. Adult for a change.
So…rapist bitch Bill Cosby gets out of jail, even after all the proof of him drugging and raping many women over the years. But Britney Spears, who wants her life back, remains enslaved to her pimp dad aka still under conservatorship, even when she showed proof just a week ago that her dad abused her and swindled her money.
It was relieving to hear the actual Britney and not some PR person masking as her for once. But, wow. She spilled a lot. The backbreaking work schedule forced upon her, the lithium thing, the forced IUD?!?! How could you not get sad and angry over all this? Even if you’re not a fan of her music or think she’s overrated (I’ll spare the side-eyes for now), she is still a human being that doesn’t deserve that shit at all.
My sympathy and support to Brit-Brit is boundless, and I hope she finally gets her way and lives the life she wants. Is that hard to ask?
Also, what the hell, eBay? Banning sales of smut won’t do any good. That they didn’t give a real good reason why (“interest of safety” my grown ass) shows that the move is sus, stupid, and, with their ban on “the nipple/areola of female breasts” when it comes to modeled clothing, ridiculously sexist. So I can no longer buy this tasteful product on eBay but I can still buy Nazi-themed shit?! GTFOH. The ban is very Tumblr-esque, and we all know how Tumblr turned out after they banned adult-themed sites. Aside from potential lost revenue, there’s a good chance smut sellers will get creative. They’ve been innocuously listing vibrators as “holistic massagers” for a while; they’ll probably get around selling dildos as, oh, I dunno, dog toys or something.
And now I’m picturing a dog fetching a 9-inch silicone mold of some porn dude to its human owner. Good boy!
Burn this phrase alive from the modern-day lexicon: “lady boss”. Add “girl boss” and “woman boss” and even “lady pimp” to the heap, and, yes, I’m doing my best not to gag after writing those blasted terms. (I also had a nice pasta dinner hours ago, and I don’t want to retch that up.) For something that’s marketed as “empowering to women”, I die a little inside every time I see something with those damn words on it (hello, decor sections at Home Goods). How’s that for empowerment?! To me, it implies that only men can be bosses and when a woman holds the same position, her gender needs to be noted with her title. Those terms are awful, low-key sexist, and likely started (and admired) by leggings-wearing, wine-chugging Karens who post such idiocy on their Facebook daily after they change their baby Braelynnette’s diaper. Or maybe some out-of-touch old dude started it; either way, it’s all evil. It’s right down there with the equally-demotivating phrase “you (insert verb) like a girl”. You’re not gonna see shit like “man CEO” or “boy boss”, although the more I keep seeing those damn words, maybe those terms need to mentioned more. Come on, Etsy creators–make dat Boy Boss mug!
If society really wants to push for equality in the workplace, for one, gender stereotypes need to be dropped. Men can be nurses and secretaries, and yet there will still be some whose sad mentalities are stuck in the 1950s who will always view those jobs as something only women do. Women can be bosses and CEOs and, yes, pimps (they’re out there), but you don’t have to add the word “lady” to her title. That’s inane and so 2016, and that year sucked ass.
Yes, I got sand in my vag over this after seeing Comedy Central’s latest commercial on The Office reruns featuring women in charge. Love The Office, but that commercial was a choice. And, yes, I’m very aware that one of my queens–the late, great Jackie Collins–also wrote a book with those damn words as the title. Coincidentally, that book happens to be my least favorite of the Lucky Santangelo series I’ve read so far (sorry, Jackie).
Hell has a welcoming song and it’s that blasted 1-877-Kars-4-Kids “jingle”. Those who listen to KNBR 680AM and immediately switch to another station, mute the volume, or yells “shut the fuck up!” to someone who’s about to sing it whenever the commercial plays feel my pain. And if you have never heard of the commercial before, don’t ever. (Also, read this before you even think about donating your car to them.) I feel like every time that ad airs, a cat dies. If there’s one good thing about that aural abomination, it could be used for an interrogation. Put that thing on repeat and I bet it will make a bitch-ass criminal confess EVERYTHING!