Godammit, I’m Mad!

I was excited about finding a new blog to hate, based on the recommendations of my astute readers. You all know what a hater I am. Although I don’t hate “on” people, as I’ve already made clear.

Anyway, I went to check out the girl who calls herself Gala Darling, only to find to my horror that I couldn’t hate her!

She seems like a ridiculous person, yes. She goes on and on about shit in a wordy but bland manner, and she certainly seems to love herself, a trait that normally enrages me.

But her nose is too big, and that may be where I draw the line.

How can you really work up a good head of hatred for someone when you feel bad about their nose? The only exception is Sarah Jessica Parker, who brandishes that nose around just to spite us.

The big nose is such blight on the Darling girl’s life that she is trying desperately to compensate with a kooky personality and Manic Panic hair color. Her whole persona screams, “I want love and attention without having to get a nose-job!” But as we know, this won’t work.  The nose is there, we see it! Even though Barbara Streisand has an amazing voice, we were bothered by her nose!

I feel I have failed my faithful readers in this unforeseen hatred malfunction. I tried to hate a seemingly worthy target and yet I’m blocked. I did look at her boyfriend though, and I think I can hate him with no trouble.

Let me have another chance! Suggestions?

As we all take cover from the media blitz surrounding the publication of Mrs. Palin’s “book,” it’s fun to recall our favorite Palinisms from the campaign. This video makes me feel kind of nostalgic…

Another antidote to “Going Rogue”:  Check out the new book “Going Rouge,” a collection of essays about the real horror of Mrs. P, by writers like Matt Taibbi, Gloria Steinem, Frank Rich and Naomi Klein.

Please rise and join me in prayer:

Dear lord,
Preventeth me from giveth-ing in to temptation and watching that perfidious concubine on Oprah.  Amen.

Still annoyed by Carine Roitfeld, I remembered how much I love her daughter, Julia… and that Anna Wintour has a beautiful daughter as well. Both Carine and Anna like to pose with the daughters at fashion shows and on the red carpet.  Both are probably vaguely threatened by their young daughters, and by each other’s daughter.

Do you think the daughters are secret allies, comparing notes about their bossy know-it-all moms? “I hate my mom’s fucking bob!” “Oh god, at least your mom dresses like a mom!” Or do they hate each other?

Which Vogue Daughter is your favorite?

Julia Restoin Roitfeld:

Bea Shaffer:

I have hated this fat pig for so long that it’s hard to believe his stupid sneering face will no longer blight my life when I’m stretched out on my couch like a beached whale, waiting for some Anderson Cooper on CNN.

I used to find him amusing, but that ended a long time ago. Watching him gain traction or whatever they call it over the last year has been too infuriating to stomach. I hate this fucker more than anyone on TV, and that is truly saying something.

I didn’t even know he graduated from Harvard until today. I will never again assume that a Harvard graduate has a high IQ.  Read about some of his most egregious bullshit here, if you’re not already a card-carrying Lou Dobbs Hater.

Lou, here is a memo: Take your fat dimpled pigface far, far away and have your nervous breakdown in private where it belongs, you racist moron. Andale!

Okay, I’m 56 years old and just following Carine Roitfeld’s lead. Where’s the party?

Now that I’ve done Walker Porn, I can’t compete in the Miss California contest, but that’s cool. Sometimes you just have to make your statement and pay the price.  Again, behold Carine’s statement. I believe she is saying, “Dress However You Want!” unless she’s trying to indicate, “I Am Nuts.”

When Carine Roitfeld looks this awful, I can only feel great! I’m pretty sure we’re the same age, and I’m sick of being envious. You go and look wrinkly, Carine! And wear more stupid get-ups like this one!

(Nope, it’s not Halloween in this picture, it’s an art opening in NYC “curated” by her son Vladimer.)

A trusted advisor told Max last week,”Wallowing in self pity is a choice.” Ha, I beg to differ.

Sometimes, self pity is the rational response to one’s situation. Just as depression, anger or grief are rational responses to heartbreak, betrayal, and loss, for example.

Our culture insists that we have the power to change things by being positive, and inherent in this thinking is the disapproval of “negativity.” If I were in Max’s position and someone had delivered such an inane assessment of my mood, I hope I would sock him in the face.

Barbara Ehrenreich has written a book about the pressure to be positive, and I couldn’t agree more. She recalls being admonished at a cancer support group, soon after she was diagnosed with the disease. At one point, she was even offered a book called “The Gift of Cancer.” Having hope is one thing. Denying fear, rage or self pity is unhealthy at best, and it’s often just another way to blame the victim of disease or tragedy or unlucky circumstances.

Me, I am full of negative emotions. When things are hard, I freak out. But I know I will keep fighting. That’s why I like to identify with the samurai, and I guess that part is a choice. I could choose to identify with Sylvia Plath, or Joan of Arc, but there is no resonance there for me.

I like the idea of staying on my horse no matter what. I intend to plunge into any battle with total commitment, even if I’m outnumbered.

In the case of the pretend “hospital,” they told me once again that Blue Cross had denied further treatment there, even though Blue Cross denied this. I told the case manager at the “hospital” that we would refuse any discharge plan and appeal any refusal of payment by Blue Cross.

Meanwhile, Max’s current roommate, the one with the noisy oxygen machine, now has an infection from his PICC line. His family has not returned after one visit. I’m afraid he won’t get out of there alive. I ask him every day if he needs anything, and he shakes his head, No. A social worker came to see him last week and asked him to rate how tired he was on “a scale of 6 to 20.” I swear I’m not making this up. Where are numbers one through five??

Today, Max stood up for the first time in nearly ten weeks. Hallelujah. I’ve found a great hospital with an Acute Rehab Unit, but he’s not quite strong enough for their program.

Everyone who has sent their blessings and good wishes, the saints who donated to the Sister Wolf Fund, and the people who made purchases from the Sister Wolf Museum of Hoarding, you have given more comfort and cheer than you can imagine. My sword would be so much heavier without you.

As we all know, Mrs. Palin is not really Trig’s mother, but now the word is that even Bristol isn’t his real mom!

Trig Truthers are going berserk, in the wake of Levi’s public statement that Trig isn’t Bristol’s baby. One of the foremost anti-Palin blogs, The Immoral Majority, states that the secret of Trig’s birth is EVEN WEIRDER! If you read the comment thread there, you will discover several wonderful conspiracy theories regarding Trig’s parentage, including the following:

1. Trig is the result of an affair between Levi’s mother Sherry and Todd Palin. Ooooooh! If only!
2. Trig is the result of an affair between Sherry and Track Palin, who was subsequently hustled off into the army.
3. Trig is the child of some unwed mother who was acquired by Mrs. Palin in anticipation of the VP campaign.

There are plenty of other convoluted stories, many of which include the notion that Bristol was indeed pregnant but had an abortion on a trip to New York with Mrs. P. Bristol’s mysterious absence from school and her bulging belly (in dated photos) help to lend credence to this part of the story. Beyond that, the possibilities are endless.

Andrew Sullivan has been a stubborn Trig Truther since the beginning, and now he’s back on board, pointing out the discrepancies in Mrs. P’s latest version of how she learned of Trig’s Down Syndrome.  The right wing will mock him again, but it’s great to see he’s still on the case.

All I know for sure is that the story of Mrs. Palin’s wacky secret pregnancy is another one of her stupid self-serving lies, and if that bitch is Trig’s mother, I’m the Queen of Sheba.

Aren’t these jeans from Karmaloop breathtaking?!  I would wear them just to acquire a nice diamond-shape pattern on my legs. Or to impress my friends with the little blobs of fat that stick out through the holes.

Nothing cheers me up like a browse through the wonderland that is Karmaloop. Complete this sentence:

These jeans would be great for —————————.

This Shopbop girl has been bothering me for ages. Why does she always have to jut her head forward like this? Who tells her to do it? Or is it her trademark or something? Waaah, make it stop!

Now, this Shopbop girl really kills me. She’s just so awful! The horrible asymmetrical hairdo, the aggressive facial expression and the weird body-language. I totally hate her! Why is she there? I think of her as The Goony Bird Girl but I’m open to a new name for her if you’ve got one.

Now! Here’s a good contest. Even though I still haven’t announced the 2 winners of the Name the Baby Contest, I do have the prizes ready. (Say hello to Hazel here.)  For this new contest, the prize will be the Dead Sweater by Lucky Jeans. It’s a size small.

Okay:  Find the Shopbop girl I would like to be if I could be a Shopbop Girl. Hint: Think “slutty.”