Sunday, November 13, 2016

I Love Goooollllddddd

In some ways, it is a dream come true for me. America has done what it was inevitably destined to do: elect a reality television star as President of the United States of America. But mostly... it is my worst nightmare.
Donald Trump will be our president (much to his despair, judging by the look on his face during his recent meeting with Obama).
I am frustrated, not so much by the fact that we elected a reality television star, but because we elected, like, the worst one ever.  

America really went to the bottom of the barrel with this one, I mean really, really scraped it. For those (like me) who never found any interest in The Apprentice, let us look at Donald Trump's Real Housewives equivalency. In other words, if Donald Trump was a real housewife, his tagline would be something of this nature:
Now, I do not know much in this world (not a lot at all), but I DO know what a good real housewife tagline is...and what it is not. And let me tell you, this is bad. This is, like, worse than Kyle Richards bad.
I can see his storyline right now. Milania and him get into a huge fight because she misplaced his little box full of dead skin patches that he collects to eat later. Milania feels really bad about it and their relationship is tested. Words like "divorce" and "deportation" get thrown around. They both say things they do not mean (or do they?).
Yeah, I'm bored too.

So, bottom line, when you really look at the situation, rationally... from a Real Housewives perspective, America has made a dreadful, dreadful mistake by picking this president. And, frankly, we should all be very ashamed of ourselves. 

That being said, I am a problem solver. I am not going to just sit here and tell you what we did wrong. I am going to offer us solutions for future elections. I have compiled a list of reality television stars who I believe, whole-heartedly, would fair better as the leader of the free world. I truly hope America will be more thoughtful in future elections.

1. Paris Hilton's Dog Tinkerbell
Tinkerbell can truly teach us all a lesson about the importance of resilience. As an individual who has experienced and overcome great adversity in his life, he would be an excellent pick for our next president. I would, undoubtedly, trust him with the nuclear codes.

2. Spencer Pratt
Spencer Pratt will ultimately prove to be a perfect choice. America loves a leader who is in touch with their spiritual/religious side. The last thing we would want to see is a clear-headed, atheist running our shit. Spencer has his rocks and gems to guide him in both foreign and domestic affairs, very few can say the same.

3. Ramona Singer
America is sick of this passive bullshit. America wants someone to TAKE ACTION, and TAKE ACTION NOW. Ramona is that girl. We do not have time to be politically correct or think about the things we say or do that hurt others. No, we need someone to kick the shit out of whoever we think is the enemy in that moment and worry about the repercussions later.

4. Reza Farahan
...and what can be better than gay Gandhi? Answer: nothing.

5. Caroline Stanbury
Well, because I genuinely, truly adore the shit out of her.

6. Milania Giudice
I don't know about you, but I would rather see a Milania in the white house who has something to say. Real things, real problems and real concerns.

7. Phaedra Parks
...because she has a PHD in donkey booties... and our country needs more of those.

8. Kourtney Kardashian's Pool
It's lit.

9. GG's Knife Collection
Those motherfuckers would OBLITERATE our enemies. For real.

10. Chad from The Bachelorette
Um, cause if we are going to have a raging, misogynist, racist lunatic as our president... can you do us the smallest service of making sure that he's at the VERY least hot?

Here's to 4 (or 8) miserable years! 

Cheers America!



Sunday, June 12, 2016

God, Is My Dog A Sociopath?

And by God, I mean, this article that I found while perusing Yahoo.

Yahoo is always good for that. They always seem to post articles that are about 15 hours to 15 years behind the times.  But, it just so happens, that 15 hours to 15 years is about the time I start gaining interest in a subject that people have talked about for years! Yahoo gets me. Girl like Yahoo.
They also post articles that are usually factually inaccurate and irrelevant, but that's neither here nor there.

Anyways, I obviously clicked on this particular article because I was interested to see if I, myself, was a sociopath. This thought crosses my mind almost daily. But, then it begs the question, do sociopaths KNOW they are sociopaths? Doesn't the fact that I am so concerned about being a sociopath exonerate me from the whole thing?

But there I was, all caught up in myself, I realized I was forgetting about someone crucial in my life. Someone who is definitely completely and blissfully unaware of her sociopathic tendencies...

That person...well, kind-of person, is Rosie... my dog.

Let's review the 7 credentials you need to be a successful sociopath.

1. Compulsive liar.

Complete and utter liar that dog is. Sometimes, in order to get two dinners, she will try to pretend that she has not been served her dinner yet by wagging her tail and staring into your eyes longingly. Other times, she will bark and insist that she needs to drop a deuce outside, but once we get outside, all the damn dog does is piss. Lying little betch.

2. Emotional Detachment

Rosie has never been in touch with her emotions. From an early age I suspected that she had some real intimacy issues. I thought these stemmed from her rough upbringing at the local pound but now I do not know. If you want to cuddle with the pooch, she will blow you off like you have never been blown off before. She shows her emotions in only barks and more, no less.

3. Narcissism

The constant licking of the paws is a true sign of vanity and self-absorption. Does this ho only care about herself? I sometimes fear I have raised a monster. A cute, adorable monster.

4. A reckless attitude

Staggering into traffic, digging holes in the freshly mowed lawn with no thought to consequences? Sounds like reckless behavior to me.

One time Rosie even ate a whole bag of confectioners sugar...

and did not even apologize for it.
5. Anger

There is constant yelling and negativity coming from that one. I mean, I simply never know when she is going to blow up on me next. I could say we walk on egg shells around her, but she would just eat those egg shells right off the floor like the greedy son of a bitch she is. It really speaks to the state of mind she is in some of the time.

6. Manipulation

Nothing, I repeat, nothing is more manipulative than a cute, furry puppy. She uses her adorable looks to lure her predators in. By the end of her schemes, you will find yourself giving her dog treats and tummy rubs... just as she planned all along. Clever bastard.

7. A revolving door of friends

And finally, the final nail in the sociopath coffin: no friends! No dogs can stand her for more than a few seconds. Let's face it, she's just not a dog's dog!!!!!

Two weeks ago, she got into a spat with Penny (who was her very best girlfriend) and they have not spoken since. Then, she started a new friendship with Biscuit the following week, only to end it over a quibble about a large, desirable stick. Muffin is her newest friend but I doubt this will last more than a few days. They are already clashing on political issues.

Thank you Yahoo for shedding this important light on this situation. Thanks to you, Rosie will be getting the psychological help she so desperately needs. Why do people not give you enough credit for these thought-provoking news stories? Why did people ditch you for Gmail?

Oh wait, this is Gmail... awkward.

But thanks for the article, anyways.



Thursday, June 2, 2016

Will You Accept This Golden Dog Bone?

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I pride myself on not just the quantity of reality television I endure (and by "endure," I mean thoroughly enjoy), but also the quality. I do not discriminate based on race, creed or stupidity. I simply enjoy all types of scripted, reality television (as any self-respecting young biddy should).
I have fully immersed myself into the surreality that lives on channels such as: Bravo, MTV and Logo. However, recently, I ventured into a new low (or, some may argue, a new high): ABC. I think you know where this is going.
The Bachelorette is my newest reality television venture. Many have watched it for years. I have heard loud (and moronic) whispers of this one for as long as I can remember. Never, however, did I ever find the time to take it up until recently. With a lull in television soiling my late May, I had no choice but to turn to something that has worked for so many idiots, for so long.

Before you read any further, you should know that this is not a post dissecting the social, racial and blatantly sexist and abrasively heteronormative ramifications of the show. I will leave that to basically any Women's Studies major to delve into on their senior thesis. No, this post is much more important... and I have been dying to get it off my chest.

Okay, back to The Bachelorette. Most people know the premise: a girl (or guy) gets the chance to sort through, mull over and sleep with a gaggle of men or women. At the end of the season, that individual is forced to pick ONE true love.

Then, the guy is supposed to get on one knee and propose to this woman that he is madly and irrationally pretending to be in love with. 

Yes, the show is filled with note-worthy gifs and awkwardly staged circumstances that can light up anyone's day. But, the show is really lacking that... je ne sais quois...
...oh wait, never mind, I know exactly what it is.

That's right. Dogs.

While I was watching JoJo and Chad toss a penny into a wishing well (as one does) and proceed to make out while soft, sensual music played in the background, I realized that the premise of this show would not only WORK with dogs... but it would flourish. The show would instantly improve in all respects.

A dignified, courageous canine would get the once in a dog-lifetime opportunity to pick their owner. Each of the humans must compete for the dog's affections during various dog challenges, dog walks and dog outings. The dog, at the end of the season, will pick the human that they feel most comfortable with, the human that makes them feel the most at ease, the human who can give them the best belly scratches.
The first night in the dog mansion, the dog will choose four owners that need to leave from the get-go. These will be the stank-ass bitches who brought lousy ass dog treats (non-organic humans can get the fuck outta here). Those who are chosen by the dog to stay will each receive golden dog bones. 

After my enlightened vision of The Bachelor: Canine Edition, I thought, why stop here? Why stop here when there are so few dog reality television shows being made? Why stop here when there is a dire need for this dog niche to be filled?

For one thing, can someone give me a good reason why there is not ONE cooking show for dogs? Instead of "professional chefs" as judges, why don't we ask the true connoisseurs? The dogs, dammit.

Allow me to set the stage: four accomplished chefs will compete to please three strict pomeranians with sophisticated palates.
Only one chef will survive these grueling eliminations. The winner will receive a $50,000 reward to PETCO (where the pets go!).

Let us take a page from one of the real housewives' books and give reality television a much-needed facelift. A facelift involving the cutest, most adorable animals on the face of this earth. Who could object?

Answer: only a monster.



Thursday, December 31, 2015


Another year is wrapping up and we all edge closer and closer to our dying day. Each day we get a little bit closer to the end, closer to breathing our last breaths. With every day we realize more and more how meaningless life is and how meaningless our lives are. But before we succumb to the hopelessness that is life (and inevitably knife ourselves), let's reflect on ridiculousness that was 2015.

Shall we review the most paramount moments of 2015?

1) That time my dog was constipated for a week

My poor booboo couldn't poop, like, at all. She ate too much of the cardboard from those pasta boxes. It was heartbreaking, earth-shattering and how could anyone ever really forget that week of true bowel dysfunction?!

2) When I tried McDonald's vanilla ice cream for the first time
Absolutely divine.

3) When I didn't write a blog post about how I hated Taylor Swift
I'm trying to take the high road here. Really, really trying.

4) When I finally made that inevitable switch to Colgate

After years of vacillation, I finally had to make the big decision. I had to make a choice and stick to it for good. I finally chose the Colgate. Spongebob sparkly bubblegum: I shall miss you.

5) When the U.S. continuously supported a modern day Hitler

There are no words.

6) When Jennifer Lawrence didn't get paid 'nuff.

10 million a movie just ain't cutting it for J-Law. And why should it? Why should she have to work her cute little butt off for 3 months out of the 12 for only millions of dollars?! Not fair, not cool, no way.

Help me, I'm white, rich and poor!

7) When I didn't get the flu shot... again.

Gosh dung it.

8) When my neighbor's fish died.

It really was a very nice fish.
9. When I beat level 300 of Candy Crush... FINALLY

10. I finished a whole watermelon.
This was no easy feat. There I sat at my kitchen table, for nearly 30 minutes, pushing watermelon into my face until I completely hated myself and everything around me. It was magical.

Overall, 2015 was a year of triumph, tragedy and Trump. Happy New Year to you all!



Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Cute Butts

The news has been one big boner kill as of late. Everyday there seems to be YET AGAIN something else to make us hate being alive.

We wake up (in a bed if we are lucky), we shlep our way to work (if we are lucky... or unlucky enough), we experience the day with all of its annoyances and griefs, just to return home (assuming we haven't been shot down or blown up by someone committed to God or someone just committed to killing) and then we watch or read the news to see who did not make it through the last order of business of the day: staying alive.

During these endless days of dodging bullets, kissing asses and wishing that the guy on the train next to you would just fucking clip his toe nails another time, you start to lose hope. You lose hope that you will ever be happy, you will ever see the light at the end of the Grand Central tunnel (okay maybe I am personalizing that a little bit). Regardless, you feel hopeless. But then, the universe grants you a small, modest glimmer of hope. A tiny, merciful gift of the gluteus maximus nature:

cute guys' butts.

I began noticing these butts a few weeks ago while watching the miserable show The Leftovers. While normally the show wants you to feel suicidal, it slipped up when it gave the viewer an above average look at Justin Theroux's beautiful bedonk.

I mean, the guy is seriously talented in the crap factory area. Never in my life did I need a view of a cute butt more than at that moment. Emerging from the bathtub, Justin Theroux's buns were the hope and change that Obama promised and finally delivered.

Justin Theroux's butt was everything in that moment (and nothing at the same time).

That night, I felt truly blessed to be on the Earth. Then, last night, two more miracles occurred. God or Jesus or Mary-Kate and Ashley, I don't know who, but SOMEONE gave us the gift of a full view Uncle Jesse's buttocks. I mean, this was truly a spectacular Hanukah miracle. Uncle Jesse (or John Stamos or whoever the fuck he REALLY is) can light my menorah ANY day.

Only a couple of hours later, something even more miraculous occurred. There I was, already high on life, high on hot guys' heinies and BAM: Justin Theroux's butt is on my television screen AGAIN. I mean, really? What have we all done to deserve such a treat? And in such copious amounts?! I must have done something right in another lifetime.

The truth is, we need more cute butts in this world. In times like these, when the whole world is going to shit, all we REALLY have is cute butts. All that really inspires us to wake up in the morning are these beautiful, flawless dumpers. Sculpted, plump and perfect for our perverted viewing pleasure.


Wednesday, August 26, 2015

My Yacht May Have Sailed

...But my ship is coming in!

These are optimistic words from Lady Sonja Morgan. We need a lot more of these Sonja Morgan delusions these days as current presidential campaigns continue to remind us of the true dire and helpless state our country is in (and will continue to be in). 

It is nearly impossible for anyone to completely ignore the inevitable presidential election. No one can avoid it. Do you have Facebook? Instagram? Yahoo? Television? Ears? Eyes? A window? The nonsensical noise of politicians whoring themselves out is excruciatingly loud and is only getting louder.

I feel almost exactly as Ramona Singer did this season when she was in the limousine, on her way to her extravagant Atlantic City birthday party, Ramona Pinot in hand, yelling:

And, in all seriousness, after a quick perusal through today's New York Times, I share Ramona's sentiments exactly (and the sentiments of every dumb biddy ever in existence who LITERALLY JUST CAN'T EVEN)...we just freakin' can't.

When the presidential campaigns began to awaken I felt fairly excited. It has been almost eight years with the same president. Obama is beginning to feel like that annoying almost-boyfriend that won't fuck off but you do not have the energy to fully eradicate him from your life because it's not like you have anyone better lying around. And now, so I thought, we would have some brand new faces. Some fresh meat, if you will.

We need someone new, someone who will love us right.

But quickly I realized, oh so quickly, that the "fresh meat" that was promised, was hardly fresh at all. It was old, rotten, stale, ejaculated-on meat that you just can't seem to rid yourself of. You know, that kind of meat.

We have Hillary Clinton for starters. Old, old news. She is easily the most disingenuous candidate of the bunch (which says something considering we are talking about a bunch of politicians). Emails, sliminess and blatant lies aside, Hillary is BY FAR the least likely person out of the bunch that you would want over your house for your weekly viewing of She's The Man. Bitch can't chill for shit. Trust me, I met her at a movie theatre once.

Next up, Donald Trump. Again, old fucking news. Stale, crusty, shit-stained underwear,  kind of old (to put it delicately). Donald Trump has wasted no time to completely expose himself as a bigoted, ignorant, delusional, entitled piece of dog crap. In all honesty, his blatant slander of Mexicans and Mexican-Americans almost begs the question, is Donald Trump even a serious candidate or is he just yankin' all of our dicks?
I don't appreciate the yank.

Then there's good ol' Bushy boy (the third coming of the Bush?!) This is like some fucked up laser hair removal procedure gone wrong. For a while, it almost seemed that Jeb Bush had a little bit of an edge as the Republican candidate when placed up against Donald Trump. I mean, this should have been a no-brainer for him. After Donald Trump expressed his undying hatred for Mexicans, Jeb had the perfect chance to come out looking like some kind of hero! Immediately, Jeb Bush pointed out that he loves, loves, LOVES Mexicans.
In fact, he pointed out that he's currently humping a Mexican-American AS WE SPEAK. But, instead of leaving it there and going on his merry way, Jeb could not help himself. Yeah, he said, the Mexicans are chill and shit, but the Asians, he said, the Asians are the REAL problem. In other words, Mexicans stay, Asians get the ol' Jeb Bush boot. Jeb, you were so close to not being a total moronic piece of doo-doo, so damn close. 

Then there's this old bloke who goes by the name: Bernie Sanders. Recently during one of his speeches, he was just chillin' out with his cock out until he got caught off guard by some Black Lives Matter activists who were not too pleased about, like, black people being killed all the time by police officers. Meanwhile, Bernie just stood there holding his little dick all like:
Then, not too long after, Bernie walked off the stage in classic, "I'm too old for this racism shit" fashion. "Deuces!" Bernie exclaimed.

Then you have the other background noise: Ben Carson (gay-hater), Ted Cruz (rape-lover) and Marco Rubio (who I know absolutely nothing about).

Meanwhile, the Democrats are actually WAITING for Joe Biden to run for president. And let me tell you, if our country's last hope is Joe Biden, beat me with a bunch of rocks, throw me into a ditch and poor hot oil over my dying body. 

In conclusion, I guess it is safe to say that I will be voting for Deez Nuts in the upcoming presidential election.