Tag: Rants!

Just Call Me “Boss”, Dammit!

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). 

Word Of The Day

OK, that could be my word for any day I come across way too many posts featuring losers that don’t deserve any more attention (like John Legend’s wife). But that word means so much more right now! For instance: Bay Area sports teams today yesterday played like trash, the Warriors and their fans probably feel like trash, and I’m sure MLB Network’s coverage of the Giants-Bums game is gonna be 100% Bums-leaning biased trash, like their trash-ass broadcasters who belong in the trash. Oh, and the cart that I use to transport my massage table broke on me, causing my table to fall, and that was fucking trash! (But I fixed the cart, so take that, Trash Gods!)

The Shit I Missed

I had some entries that I was supposed to finish/write up, but Yours Bitchy got busy as of late. (“So what’s new?”–you). I’m also worn out from doing some moving crap (not moving out of my apartment, just moving my stuff out of a storage unit to another), and I’m back to making dat massage money again. So, I’m condensing all the shit I had no time to post about here.

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I had a long unfinished rant about Billie Eyelash’s (typo stays) quick 180 from Hot Topic poster child to bored brothel worker from the 1940s for UK Vogue. Then I realized that editing the word count of my story was the more interesting project to work on. All I will say about her new look and attitude for now is that she’s young, female, and in the music industry. And if you’re familiar with how that industry has done young female artists in the past 20 years, you should know what I’m talking about.

By the way, what is up with some of these chicks and guys today trying to be sexy but looking like the Unisom hasn’t worn off?! There’s a big difference between come-hither and straight-up looking like you need a damn nap. Marilyn Monroe would never.

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I’m bad for being very late in this, but better late than never to say farewell to Tawny Kitaen, who passed away this past weekend. Because I’m familiar with the sophisticated subject matter that is 80s/90s Bombshells, Tawny’s name, even if I go months without hearing about her, rings a bell with me. She was THE hottie for all those Whitesnake videos back in the day, people! Nowadays, chicks get labeled a hottie if they look generically hot and twerk on their TikTok. It remains to be seen if they can live up to Tawny’s legendary video vixen status, however. (spoiler alert: they won’t)

You know that’s also how she made her entrance into the pearly gates above.

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Speaking of unexpected passings (and here’s one for the TMFI files), pour one out for my vibrator. She quit on me at the worst ever possible time while I was using her, and if I have to tell you when that was, well, bless you. I tried recharging it (this was no battery-powered toy here) but to no avail. This is the last time I buy my vibes off of eBay! (I know, I know.)

In happier news, I got tipped a delectable $100 for this couples massage I did recently. (Vibrator-spending money–yay!) This couple is loaded–fancy gated home with a guest house that has three flat-screen TVs (!) in their living room (I know this because that’s where I massaged them) and all that good shit. My experience when it comes to tips from massaging “rich folk” is hit or miss, though. Some tip well, and others are pathetic AF tippers. For the latter, that’s one reason why those rich bitches stay rich. Luckily, the couple I saw was not one of those types.

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In happier news not related to me, my Butterfly Hello Kitty queen got her second shot last week! The Vaccination of Mimi has begun!

It’s That Time Again (Pt. 2)

When it’s Hero Parent Worship Season and you’re bombarded by Happy Mother’s/Father’s Day stuff, but you don’t have a mom or dad deserving of those things and some ingrates still think you’re the reason why you had bad parents…

All won’t be lost, in my case. I’ll just honor my friends who happen to be moms and dads. It’s the best I can do. 

I posted this link last year, but this subReddit (if any of you need support) knows where I’m coming from. 

 

My Ass Is Stuck In The Past

Plenty of people are talking about the Oscars right now, but after watching that cerebral piece of late 90s cinema known as A Night At The Roxbury today, all I want is to go back to 1997, wear shiny fun clothes and frosted lipstick, shove away the douchebags that hit on me, and (badly) dance my ass off to Haddaway and La Bouche in the club. (Sure, I can do all that in my own studio and pretend there’s other club-hoppers around if I eat enough edibles, but I’d rather take the time machine.)

–Your reaction to what I just wrote (and most of my other posts).

My Ears, My Precious Ears

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!

OH GOD, WHY?!

I’m fully aware of Hollywood’s twisted fetish for ruining our childhood memories by remaking old movies and TV shows we adored in our youth. They did that with that live-action abomination known as Jem and the Holograms a couple years ago, but I never watched that cartoon as a kid (yes, I hear your shocked gasps), so it didn’t affect me. So when I saw this trending on Twitter…

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They came for my Powerpuff Girls? And made it live-action?! And Gen Z’d it?!?! Excuse me while I find a lighter so I can ignite my pubes. Also, I am so that pink-haired chick in background staring down this mess-in-the-making. The CW, which is the same network that had the nerve to reboot Dynasty so they’re no stranger to fuckery, could’ve gone with these guys at some costume shindig, called it the reboot, and I would’ve been interested!

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That Just Means I Have Impeccable Taste

Me whenever I’m reading some post on beauty/skincare products and the name “Kylie” gets mentioned often (without a last name, I should add) and this is who pops in my head:

I’m all, did one of my queens also release some skincare stuff? For all I care, she could put out a chocolate-scented glitter facial mask and all it would do is leave my face a sparkling mess and smelling like a Hershey’s morsel, and I’d still buy those masks by the dozen because that’s how I’d support the REAL Kylie!