Friday, February 28, 2014

My Apologies, Susan B. Anthony

I was struck by something rather disturbing (and stupid) on Yahoo news, as per usual. I will admit that basically anything relating to Taylor Swift is enough to get my panties in a full on pretzel twist, but this article struck me as especially annoying.

http://shine.yahoo.com/fashion/exclusive-taylor-swift-39-cute-keds-campaign-girl-184100579.html

I have heard whispers, ok not even whispers, full on YELLS about Taylor Swift being considered a "feminist" for some time now. Being, ya know, a woman and all, this sentiment really burns my biscuits.
Taylor Swift is the new face of the feminist movement? Well, we might as well all shoot ourselves in the cunts right now and save ourselves the misery.

For so long "feminist" women have scolded other women who are skeptical about being related to the word "feminist." I, myself, find that I have practically avoided the label like the plague. I even make sure to fill a daily quota of misogynist jokes as to avoid being called the f-word.

What is the only thing worse than a chauvinist pig?

A woman who doesn't do what she's told.

Phew, okay, daily quota officially filled for the day. But I think this Taylor Swift nonsense is a very good example of why I refuse to subscribe to what the feminist movement has become.
Don't do that, T, I know it hurts too much.

But when you think about it, it is rather disturbing. Why do people associate the word feminist with a girl who has built her whole career off of complaining about boys dumping her? I mean why has "feminism" evolved into this bullshit movement where women just complain about how men have burned them and "broken" their weak little hearts. Why is it that songs like "I Knew You Were Trouble" or "Picture to Burn" have become new anthems for girl power?
Yes, please complain to me more about how a guy who you always knew was a douche bag, turned out to be, well, a douche bag! What a fucking twist! Now let me write a song about it... GIRL POWER!!!!

And the whole bit in "Picture to Burn" when she says, "go and tell your friends that I'm obsessive and crazy, that's fine I'll tell mine you're gay." If he is not into you, Ms. Swift, than he MUST be gay. This is a fair approach. Instead of outting Joe Jonas as the dipshit that he is, let's out him as a homosexual. Come to think of it, every guy that I have ever been involved with must be gay as well! It all makes sense now.
To be the proper feminist, it is crucial that you tear his house apart. Burn your fucking bra in his fireplace while you are at it because, yeah, that is what being an empowered woman means! Look at her, stalking her ex-boyfriend's house and drinking his mouthwash... you go girl! Besides, we women have absolutely nothing better to do anyways, apparently. We don't have jobs or lives or anything.

I was listening to the radio the other day and heard the DJ talking about how Taylor Swift was continuing to speak about who she lost her virginity to. There has been widespread speculation about whether or not Taylor Swift lost it to John Mayer or Jake Gylenhaal. For years we have waited with bated breath to find just WHO popped this girl's cherry. It just means everything.
Does this fixation on female virginity sound a little familiar to you? Sound like the good ol' days when we had things like dowries? When women's virginity was not just cute little thing ("aw, cute, she waited for marriage!") but an absolute non-negotiable if she planned on getting married. If a woman had lost it before marriage, she was considered damaged goods. And for those who know about Japanese culture (or for those, like me, who took the shortcut and read Memoirs of a Geisha) know about how young virgin women in Japan's bodies were sold, and their John would collect their blood as a keepsake (now that is one for the mantle!) The question is, who holds the vile of blood that is T-swifts virginity? John Mayer? Jake Gylenhaal? Harry Styles? Jesus Christ himself? So many possibilities.
So many questions left unanswered.

Her songs, her words and her whole personality that she has created encourage this speculation and fixation on something that is the opposite of progressive. In fact, she is literally preaching the oldest fucking shit in the book. You do not hear Hillary Clinton or Gloria Steinem go on and on to the public about who they lost it to. Lameskis.

For as long as people continue to insist that Taylor Swift is a feminist, I will keep at my role of being a avid misogynist, picket signs and all.

XOXO,
Jules

Monday, February 17, 2014

The February Blues

Am I the only person on this Earth who absolutely hates the month of February? It seems that every year during this fateful month I get blown a new asshole--sometimes multiple new assholes. By the time the month is over, my body is basically covered with pustules, oozing with poop. Okay, maybe I took that joke a little too far but you get the idea.
But seriously! In what should be a month full of beauty and delight always turns into a month of doom and destruction. You would think that the shortest month of the year would have less of a chance of fucking it up... but let me tell you, these are 28 days of doom. And if it is a leap year, you better fucking forget it. Sleep that one out like the fuckin' groundhogs. They know what's up.

For starters, your significant other always, always, always fucks up your shit during this month. You get cheated on, you get dumped or you find out they want their annual sex change.
What can ya do? Shit happens.

Regardless, they are fucking you over in some way, shape or form. Plus, after you are kicked to the curb, it is a lot harder to rebound because it is the fucking DEAD of winter and therefore you have little motivation to even put on pants during the weekend--let alone get your ass to da club. So basically, it is just you, your thoughts and your shower nozzle. Oh and your tears too because you are probably heartbroken or some crap.

So that brings me to my next point. The fucking weather. What is this nonsense? I did not sign up for this. I get it, I live in the Northeast, there will be some snow from time to time but two snow storms a week? I left Ithaca, New York to escape from the darkness. I supposed the darkness followed me...
AHhhhhHhhHhh!

Okay, back to me and MY problems. Last snowstorm, I spent nearly 4 hours shoveling my driveway and let me tell you something very important, something very disturbing that I have learned... shoveling is never cute. You usually have snot coming out of your nose by the time you are ten minutes in and by the time you are finished it is frozen to your face. Oh, and those cute, pink, fluffy ear muffs that you put on beforehand? Yeah those things are long-gone because you realize how fucking annoying they actually are and project the exact opposite of what you are feeling, which is death.
So you rip them off in disgust, throw yourself in the snow and cry for a half and hour or so. Standard shoveling tantrums, if you will.

So yeah, when you are done shoveling, you get to flop yourself down on your couch like a beached whale and dream of a beautiful place where there are rainbows and sunshine and sexy leprechauns---oh wait, nope, you DON'T, because guess what? Your ass needs to go to work now.

It is such a shame because I feel like every February I can never enjoy Black History Month to the fullest extent. I am always worrying and fretting over shit that is irritating and disgusting in nature. Black History Month should be officially changed to the month of September. September is an excellent month full of hope, promise and foliage. Nothing is more beautiful than foliage, nothing.

For those of you who are struggling during this dark month, you must know that you are not alone. Every morning I wake up wishing for something better, something more March-like. Until then, we must make the most of it.

For one thing, pretty yourself up.
You aren't gonna get anyone with that attitude... or without brushing your teeth.

Secondly, pay for a fucking snow plow. No human should be subjected to shoveling a driveway. I would not wish that on my worst enemies (okay, maybe on SOME of my worst enemies...Okay, actually I would wish it on all of them).
Muhahaha!

Hang in there. At least we still have each other...LOLOL!!

XOXO,
Jules

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

I Could Stay Awake Just to Hear Ya Breathin'

Everyone knows that Aerosmith song where Steven Tyler is staring at his significant other sleeping ("I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing"). In reality, the chick is probably just some random ass biddy he found lying around somewhere with her legs open. However, he acts like it is so much more than that. He sings candidly, poetically and rape-ly about how he enjoys hearing her breathe and watching her sleep.
Somehow this rapey act is seen as "cute" and "romantic." Last time I tried this move, I wound up with a black eye and a restraining order.
I think the overwhelming consensus was that what I did was considered "inappropriate" and "socially ill."This gesture apparently is only acceptable when Steven Tyler does it. I find this rather perplexing because Steven Tyler could easily pass as the wicked witch of the west.
You are telling me that if you did not wake up to THAT staring at you, you would not shit your footy pajamas? Puh-freakin-lease.
Not to mention the face that Steven Tyler looks like walking gonorrhea. Why all these women want to sleep with walking gonorrhea is beyond me. To add insult to injury, people play this song at their WEDDING. Their fucking wedding. Fuck that, I am either going with "The Thong Song" by Sisquo or "Every Girl" by Lil Wayne. These two gentlemen know how to treat a lady. Two old souls just looking for that special someone
#feminism. Lil Wayne keeps pussy runnin' like a faucet.

The reason why I bring up this creepy song is because Valentine's Day is right around the corner and I will bet you any amount of conversation hearts that loser dudes near and far will be pairing that song with a bed full of rose petals in order to convince a girl to allow them to either:

A) skull fuck them
B) have a threesome
C) do butt stuff
or
D) play a round of bananagrams with them

The last one seems pretty unlikely but I figured I would add it in for the sake of hopeful thinking. No one plays that wonderful game anymore.

There are two main Facebook burdens that all sane biddies must bear on Valentine's day. The first burden of the Facebook community are the biddies who have boyfriends.  This day, for them, is solely dedicated to making Facebook posts about about how much they LOVEEEEEE their significant other. If it is not written on Facebook, the love might as well not exist.
If you're a bird, then I'm a bird, baby.

Anyone who is in any kind of relationship makes it their number one duty to let everyone know they are getting it in. They post nauseating couple picture after nauseating couple picture, to make sure each and every last friend has slit at least one wrist before they are done with your profile.
The second burden and, actually, the worse of the two burdens are the biddies who do not have boyfriends. Ugh, the ones who insist on writing "SINGLE AWARENESS DAY!!!!!!!" Were they not aware that they were single before February 14th? I mean, if this is the case, I can totally identify with this confusion. Some days I forget that my imaginary boyfriend that buys me flowers (and even proposed to me last week! Thanks for all of your well wishes!) is not actually real. That was all me buying flowers, chocolates and, yes, even the engagement ring (I am very progressive!) Just, ya know, pretending to be loved. Don't mind me.
It should be mentioned that Valentine's Day motivates overeating for those of us who need to be staying fit to lure a man in. The only people who get to enjoy this chocolate deliciousness are those who already have their biddy on the lock-down. Hey, they aren't love handles if no one loves ya. You remember that!

So that is all I am going to say on the subject of Valentine's Day (and trust me, I have already said enough). I would like all of you to think twice about what you post on Facebook or what you say on this day because in reality Valentine's Day is just February 14th. It is just another day in your miserable, mundane life-- no more, no less.

Do not make a spectacle of yourself.

XOXO,
Jules

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Too Legit to Not Quit

I was going to avoid writing yet another post on Sir Justin Bieber but I truly believe in teachable moments. Therefore, it would be a shame to not point out the beauty of his recent "retirement." I promise that this will be the final time that I will mention the Biebster for as long as this biddy blog shall live.

I think we all have something to learn from Bieber's plan to retire from the music business. There are numb nuts who stick around for a littttttttttle too long. I mean, just think about it, the man accomplished all of the important things in life, there was no need to keep this nonsense going any longer.
For starters, he banged Selena Gomez. They loved each other like a love song for years. Their love came naturally, it came naturally. This is a task that even I, biddy queen, will never complete. This is an accomplishment to be admired, to be honored and... to be kind of perplexed by. I mean, really Selena? Justin Bieber? Have you no self-esteem? Have you no mirror? Perhaps you should re-listen to your own single "Who Says." Inspiring words from such an hypocritical young biddy.
The second "most important" thing the Great Bieber accomplished was not just walking over The Great Wall of China like all of the other plebeians of the world, but he was CARRIED over instead (like a G). I wrote an entire post about this great accomplishment a few months back. God gave The Great Bieber legs so he can NOT use them as far as I am concerned.

The third "most important" thing that Justin accomplished was winning a bunch of pointless awards that in no way, shape or form reflect his "artistic" or "musical" "abilities."
But truth be told, none of these stupid award shows reflect any sort of substance or ability anyways. I mean, not to harp on this like basically every other person in the blogosphere but... Katy Perry being nominated for a Grammy? Macklemore winning MULTIPLE Grammies? Jonah Hill being nominated for, yet again, another Oscar? Maybe all of you award show snobs should take a closer look at what you consider an "honor" these days. They are basically handing these little trinkets out for free these days. Come to think of it, I am hoping that one day I can get my hands on one of thosee suckers. There's a spot on my dresser with its name on it, right next to my town swim team participation trophies.
The only thing I fear is that the Grammy will cheapen the whole look. I mean, I worked many a 50 yard butterfly to get those fuckers. Each of those flip turns took a little bit out of me, each dive off of the block took a little bit of my soul.

The fourth "most important" Bieber accomplishment was banging a prostitute. Forget everything you heard in health class. I like to live my life by the Pokemon philosophy: "Gotta catch em all" and contracting STDs is no exception. The more, the merrier. 

So, think about it...

Bieber is quitting before his pill problem comes to light and his dick rots off. That is the very definition of quitting while you are ahead. Not so silly when you put it that way, huh?

I hope this message reaches certain "important" people. Watching the State of the Union last week made me think that perhaps, President Obama and all of the other presidents that came before him (and will come after him) should have taken a note from the old Biebsters ways. Madonna, you should ponder these words as well. Also, Taylor Swift, I am looking at you too (per usual).

And to those who have made the puzzling decision to "un-retire" after making grand announcements of retiring, you are absurd and selfish. Amanda Bynes and Jay-Z,  un-retirement is a big, big no-no. Please re-retire as soon as you get this message.

As for you, my good biddies, there is an important message you must take away from all of this. Know when you have overstayed your welcome, know when it is time to get the fuck out and know when it is time for you to shut the fuck up.

On that note...

XOXO,
Jules