Godammit, I’m Mad!

Jade Jagger is up to no good, and I feel it’s my duty to share the bad tidings.

First, she has launched her new line of jewelry and it’s surprisingly awful. Here is a “goldtone” skull necklace for $475. Is she nuts? Why would anyone pay that much for something they could get at the mall for ten bucks?

More impressive, and by that I mean more egregious, Jade Jagger has embarked on a real estate project in Manhattan, offering ‘luxury’ studio apartments in a building called The Jade.

The studio apartments go for $55,000 and look like futuristic prison facilities. The brains behind this project, developer Michael Shvo, explains the attraction of the venture: “People want to be Jade Jagger.”

Do you want to be Jade Jagger? This would involve being a haggard 35 year old mother of two, who is mostly known for her shallow lifestyle in Ibiza and, of course, her famous dad. She attends fashion shows and dates a rap artist. Her next major project will be a facelift.

I don’t know why, but I expected more from Jade Jagger. Mick and Bianca should have spawned something better than a faux designer of faux jewelry and faux apartments. Breeding isn’t everything, I guess. Look at Rumer Willis, for godsake.

This morning I saw the headline “Woman Says She Was Traumatized by Lohan” and my reaction was: Join the Club!

I too feel traumatized by Lindsay Lohan, and I’d like some compensation for my suffering.

I feel my blood pressure surge every time I see her vacuous smiling face. Why is that girl still smiling? Her awful blonde hair extensions, her ridiculous fedoras, her hippie scarves, her crappy costume jewelry, her jeans tucked into knee-boots, her sparkly lipgloss, and her stupid trademark peace sign…..I can’t stand it.

Make it stop! The emotional distress I’ve endured can’t really be quantified, but $150,000 might take the edge off.

God, it’s been one day since Hillary got all teary over a cup of coffee, and I’m already sick to death about the post mortem.

Did she cry on purpose? Or is she “a human being,” as some pundits have speculated. As far as I’m concerned, she didn’t cry, she just got a little misty. Big fucking deal. Move on!

Since we can’t move on however, at least for today, here is Rudy Giuliani, deftly turning the Hillary discussion back to himself on 9/11.

Do you want to look like a prostitute? Are you a guy whose style icon is Kid Rock or Vince Neil? Would you like your kids to wear more sequins and skull-themed hoodies? Electric Ladyland may be the answer to all your dreams. I know it fills my need to see trampy models in leopard-print mini-dresses and other garish finery that says “Rock ‘n Roll” to the discerning internet shopper.

Electric Ladyland is also a real store, owned by Penny Long and her son Ashley. They are pictured on the website, arms wrapped around each other, spookily mirroring each other’s mop of bleached blond hair and ghetto fabulous aesthetic. Don’t bother trying to copy their photos; they won’t allow it!

I’m tempted to contact Kelly, the website’s VIP Personal Shopper, for some fashion advice. I could ask her what color rhinestone-encrusted Kippys belt ($445) would work with my Thomas Wilde Tight Ass leggings ($575) or I could just ask where to hook up with Ashley, if he’s not already taken, ahem, by his mom.

Please take a moment to visit the astonishing world of Electric Ladyland, where even Lindsay Lohan might be stumped.

MSNBC has been delighting me with its seemingly endless documentary series about prison life, called Lock Up. Last night, I watched the episode about two crazy guys who had each killed a parent and then eaten the parent’s brain. I wasn’t really offended; I guess if one of my kids killed me, I’d like them to at least eat my brain!

The night before, I met Bobby Gilbert, a guy who’s spent 19 years in solitary confinement and wants to be moved to a prison closer to his Mama. He throws a fit when he doesn’t get his transfer. Then he goes to anger management classes and gets a haircut from a prison buddy who is older and wiser and less insane.

Another inmate, Alex Bennett, has an amazing gray mullet, and scares the shit out of the series producer, a fat young white guy. Alex seems to relish being a hardened convict, and he shows us his favorite place to stand out in the yard.

God, I love this series. How can anyone not love it? The tattoos, the personality disorders, the bad grammar, it’s a dream come true for the armchair sociologist. If you like the idea of hearing ‘Death Row’ pronounced to rhyme with Jethro, this is must-see television.