Saturday, May 18, 2013

Apocalypse: The Remix

I spoke of the 2012 apocalypse back in December. On December 21, after a night of standing around holding my dick, I was rather disappointed to find out that we would, indeed, live to see tomorrow. The day after was obviously spent in damage control mode, correcting all the boo-boos I made in the days leading up to the phantom apocalypse (i.e.: un-cunt punting all of those dumb biddies, unfucking all of those diddies, locating all of those giraffes I decided to set free from the Bronx Zoo).
An apocalypse only seemed like the next logical step for human kind. After the Bieber/Gomez break-up I figured we had no real hope for recovery and that things could not possibly get any worse than they already were. I mean, they were just so gosh dung beautiful together.

But then in the biggest plot twist in the history of twisted plots... THEY GET BACK TOGETHER?! I did not see THIS one coming. Okay so let's review: no apocalypse, no break-up.

As crazy as it sounds, it turns out that I was wrong. I have realized that what I had previously stated about the Bieber and Gomez break-up was actually false. I was failing to see the bigger picture. Yeah, I can admit when I fucked up. I am a classy biddy like that. It turns out it was not the breaking up that marked the beginning of the apocalypse but, rather, the reconciliation. Shit.
Which brings me to my main point: the apocalypse is coming... but like, for real this time.

Shit is hitting the fan even harder this time, my fine feathered hoes and I will tell you why:

For starters, read this:

Now, I have had many a disappointing meal in my day. I have found pubic hairs, bones and other unidentified objects in my food but none of these instances ended in homicide (it was nothing a couple of titty twisters could not fix). Perhaps the noodles were not the most delectable but give the man a break.
These two patrons seem a little too strict. Violence is hardly ever the answer... unless we are talking about Taylor Swift or Anne Hathaway, of course. In those cases, violence is, in fact, the only answer. But I digress, the question I am trying to pose is: what kind of world are we living in that even our chefs need to show up to work armed and rocking a bullet proof vest?
That's right Pauly D, now is a perfectly good time to panic. The noodle debacle is hardly the first time I have heard about people losing their shit over food. Back in December I remember reading an article about a man who shot his roommate over an argument about pork chops.

Oh yes, an ever controversial topic. Everybody knows there are three things you do not talk about: politics, religion and pork chops.


Far be it from me to judge someone about losing their cool but I am pretty sure they could have settled their differences in a calmer way. Maybe dueled it out with a little Iron Chef action? Perhaps throw in a little "may the best pork chop connoisseur win?" There ya go, they would have had themselves a little friendly competition. But no, this bloke had to go ahead and take it to the extreme. The richest part about the whole thing is that the police found the shooter sitting nearby the body, most likely eating the pork chops that his roommate had made before he shot him, only to realize that he made a boo-boo. It turns out his roommate's recipe was, indeed, better than his. "Cumin, it's all about the cumin," was the only thing he said to the police as they cuffed and dragged  him away.

The last thing that I would like to mention has been keeping a biddy like myself up at night. If that does not signify our inevitable doom, I do not know what does. I would like to take this time to pay my respects to a fallen biddy. She is a biddy who has lost her way, if you will. Her name is Amanda Bynes.
Thaaattttt's you, Amanda. You know, when you were still only on the soft stuff like cocaine and crystal meth. Amanda's downfall has been extremely difficult to watch. I have been a fan of Amanda since back in the days of All That. I continued to follow her career as she went on to make other gems like The Amanda Show and What I Like About You. Later, she created the biggest masterpiece of all time: She's The Man. Do not even get me started with that movie. Her best work, her finest accomplishment.
Amanda later "retired" as an actress but then, naturally, "unretired" a few days later. Perhaps the "unretirement" should have been a sign that Amanda was losing her shit. 

I am assuming most of you have seen this video of Amanda working out in the gym.

Not being a very seasoned gym-dweller myself, I can relate to Amanda's ignorance of social norms. I have found myself very much outcasted in the gym as I tend to count my repetitions a little TOO loud and sing along to "The Climb" on repeat while workin' the treadmill. Your usual meathead, gym-dwellers are not too fond of my exercise habits and apparently Amanda's enthusiasm for the elliptical arts was rejected as well. Again, this is one STRICT gym.

The most curious of Amanda's behavior is her constant tweeting. Some say her tweets are genius, some say they are crazy. If you are asking a ho like myself, I must say I am rather ambivalent about them. I mean, some are kind of motivational. Particularly the ones that she states her weight and says how much weight she needs to lose (which, naturally, happens to be all of it). People are judging her, saying she has an eating disorder...
Eating disorder, shemeating disorder. Amanda Bynes is like a modern day Bridget Jones... on crack cocaine. We should be embracing her and making movies about her, not diagnosing her and telling her to get help!

However, what makes me so ambivalent about the Amanda tweets is that she also throws in ignorant statements amongst the the motivational weight loss ones. For instance, that she wants to bone Drake.
That is just a hard pill for me to swallow. Drake is but one of my many archnemeses. Although I have never mentioned my distaste for Drake before, do not get it twisted, I hate him just as much as the Swifty. I dislike all of my enemies equally, I am very diplomatic in that sense.

The shaved head, the nudie tweets and the pierced cheeks are one thing, but to say you want to have coitus with one of the biggest toolboxes of all time was the final straw for me. Amanda Bynes has really gone off the deep end. Another good biddy lost.

In conclusion, I greet the new apocalypse with open arms this time. I do not want to be living in a world where Lindsay Lohan is more lucid than Amanda Bynes, I do not want to be living in a world where noodles or pork chops can be the end of me. The end can not come fast enough as far as I am concerned.

Until then, stay sexy.

This was the apocalypse, the remix.


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