Announcing My Reality Show, ‘I Am Cunt’

July 27th, 2015

I Am Cunt tv show

I decided to skip the new Caitlyn Jenner show because (1) I am just sick of her/him, and (2) I was busy watching my other Sunday shit as discussed only last week.

But upon reflection, I feel I should have my own Reality Show and of course, you should too!

Mine will be about My Journey. There will be laughter, tears, and whining, and then more tears. There will be a lot of yelling and cursing.

My family members will make appearances, nagging and berating me. My sister will bring her list of things she resents me for, like she did the last time we went out for coffee.

My gender will remain pretty stable throughout, but my mental state will be all over the fucking map.

Like I imagine Caitlyn did, I will invite you into my closet. I will grab a bunch of stuff and throw it across the room, announcing, “No more Bruce!” Or I can just moan, “Why did I spend money on this stupid shit?” as my husband wrings his hands in the background.

We will review the history of my hair, and we’ll wonder how long before I die of cancer from those ‘keratin’ treatments.

Fine, it sounds a little boring but in fact it will be mesmerizing, like Apocalypse Now crossed with Grey Gardens, only not. Maybe I can get a synopsis of every Caitlyn episode and just follow her/his lead. We can certainly talk about my tits and make-up and how fearlessly I insist on being Me.

I fucking love this. And it’s not just about me. It’s about everyone struggling with existence as an angry, self-involved shopping addict with mood swings who wants attention but doesn’t have a voice. Cunt or not.

Sunday Night TV

July 13th, 2015


Tonight we watched what my husband and I call ‘Our Sunday Shows.’

We’re like decrepit retiree’s, with nothing more exciting to do at night than watch TV. I can’t remember what young people do at night.

Anyway, Sunday night is packed with Cable series that are always ending or beginning a new season. One show will have its season finale, leaving me feeling anxious and abandoned, but another one will start up. Mostly they’re crap but we watch them faithfully.

Tonight we watched True Detective, Ray Donovan, and Ballers, all stupid and disappointing, but we’ll be back for more next Sunday. Despite the stupidity of these particular shows, we feel we have standards. I will never, and I mean never, watch Game of Thrones. I know in my heart that I don’t want to see dragons or women on horseback yelling at their armies.

Likewise, I didn’t watch Madmen because I can’t stand that guy’s face and I’m not interested in advertising or period irony.

True Detective was so magnificent last year! This year, it’s a big mess that’s hard to follow and doesn’t make sense anyway. No one can act, the dialogue is lame and stilted, and the Chinatown aspects are forced and idiotic. Plus, I miss every other line of dialogue because no one will fucking enunciate.

Ray Donovan is a truly terrible show but I’ve come to appreciate how bad it is. The best part is how Liev Scheiber refuses to make a facial expression. All the characters are repellent and all the accents are laughably inept.

Ballers is new but it seems promising in the stupid department. There’s a lot of male posturing and a lot of girls in bikinis, since it’s a Mark Wahlberg production. But it stars The Rock, who is always compellingly strange: Is he black or Mexican or Asian? Why is his head so small that he looks like a dinosaur? Is he gay or what? What is the source of his obscure charm?

During the week, we try to find things on Netflix that might actually be good but it’s hit and miss. If nothing is on, we are happy to play with our computers or read.

But Sunday night is special because Our Shows are on, and we hate to miss a single unintelligible moment.

What shows do you guys like to watch?


The Joy Of Trying To Tidy Up

July 2nd, 2015


In my continuing effort to make life livable, I’ve sunk to self-help books. It’s a poignant conundrum. The more you succumb to self-help books, the more of a loser you are, by definition.

Still. I have high hopes for The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. a worldwide best seller that makes a bold promise:

In this book, I have summed up how to put your space in order in a way that will change your life forever.

The book is slim, like The Prophet, and similarly filled with wisdom, only more useful wisdom. I vaguely recall stuff from The Prophet, like your children are arrows and sadness is a well or something. Great.

But compare that to the revelation that everything you own should spark joy. If you pick something up and you don’t feel any joy, YOU DON’T KEEP IT!

It’s such a huge but simple concept. All the shit you’ve acquired is shit that you have to put somewhere and there’s just too much of it. Duh, you know that. But you don’t know how to cull your stuff, and you’ve tried so many times. You can’t get rid of stuff because you paid good money for it, you might need it, you might lose weight. it’s a memento, it was a gift, it isn’t broken, one day you’ll give it to someone.

Anyway, the first brilliant edict from the author, Marie Kondo, that shook me to the core was this:

Don’t demote clothing to ‘lounge-wear.’

Right?!? Even my husband admitted to this practice. If something is too ugly or worn out to wear in public, you put it with your PJ’s.  Ms. Kondo insists that even when you’re at home, you should be wearing something that sparks your joy. Right now I’m wearing a green tank top that I’m going to throw away later tonight, because the color and cut bring me NO FUCKING JOY, none.

It’s that simple.

So, I’m not following Kondo’s instructions to the letter but I’m making a start. I emptied each drawer of my dresser and picked up each item. If there was a distinct No Joy feeling, I made a contemptuous face and threw it on the floor. If there was a ‘meh’ feeling, I hesitated.

But I did collect two bags of shit to throw away. I have to go around the house and do this with everything. It will be exhausting but I think I can eliminate tons of stuff from my amassed belongings, which have become burdensome.

I also got a book for parents whose adult children hate them. It is somewhat comforting.

Throwing shit out is the way to go, the road to harmony and contentment. Maybe the less I need, the less needy I will seem. I will be spartan, disciplined, and self-contained. I will accept no nonsense from green tank tops.

And throwing shit out puts you in a position of power, which is good. Like George Bush said about Donald Rumsfeld, I am The Decider.

The Tragic $1,500 Sandal

June 27th, 2015

DSquared Sandal 1500

Just in for fall winter 2015-2016 are these inexplicable sandals by DSquared.

DSquared Sandal rear 1500

Here are its ‘features’ as written on

Metal Applications
Solid color
Zip closure
Leather/rubber sole

And yet that tells us nothing. We need those proselytizing editors at net-a-porter to truly capture the atrocity on display here. It’s a biker-cowboy-bondadge mash-up that no one could or should walk in. They don’t even tell you how high that heel is.

Would anyone like to write the editorial description designed to sell (or even explain) this tragic eyesore?


The Awfulness Inside The Awfulness

June 21st, 2015

littlle shit

Let’s say your dad is a tattooed bully with pierced nipples who had a nasty divorce from your mom before you were even born, and later leaves you with his new wife four days a week.

Let’s say you changed schools six times before you dropped out after repeating ninth grade. Your dad still fights with your mom about visitation, his second wife can’t stand the abuse and finally leaves after dad beats her up.

You’re frail and weird looking and ‘painfully shy’, and you don’t have friends so you spend a lot of time in your room at your computer. No one pays much attention to you until you get kicked out of the local mall for acting strange and the cops find your Suboxone, a drug for opiate users trying to get clean.

Your sister plans her wedding but you’re not invited. She’s registered at Kohl’s.

You’re just an angry little shit with a bad haircut and probably some kind of brain damage from drugs or trauma, and you form some idiotic sub-KKK philosophy just to have someone to despise more than you despise yourself. You take a bunch of stupid pictures of yourself in your room with your Confederate flag, glaring like Robert Di Niro in Taxi Driver only worse.

Why the fuck would someone let you have a gun??

That made all the difference: You were just a little shit but now you’re a monster.


Fuck You, Redneck Boot Sandals

June 15th, 2015


I was so touched when three separate people sent me links to these stupid cowboy boot thongs. I thought, “Aww, how lovely, when people see grotesque shoes, they think of me!”

But when I read the text, I learned that the boots are the work of some smartass self-styled redneck who’s managed to make a splash on social media with his stupid faux product.

In other words, these boots are not found art like shoes that someone actually considered attractive and wearable. Instead, these fucking boot-things are ironic, get it?

We don’t need ironic ugly things, we’re already drowning in sincere ugly things! Fake ugly things bring no frisson of joy.

This guy’s Facebook page does not indicate what he intends to do with his new fame or whether we can expect other shoe-jokes in the future. But I can only hold him in contempt for intentionally fucking up a pair of boots, and for thinking he could design anything as innocently hideous as these ‘Open-toe Chrystal Boxer Booties’ by Giuseppe Zanotti.

Giuseppe zanotti shoes

Exciting News About Hideous Denim!

June 10th, 2015


Yay for me!

I have started a new blog devoted solely to hideous denim, so as to spare sensitive viewers (and impressionable children) from being subjected to this topic.

It you’re wearing your big boy pants, go check it out.


Getting Over Bruce and Caitlyn

June 8th, 2015

lauren bacall

How much longer do we have to hear about Caitlyn Jenner? It was fun for a moment, I’ll admit it. I’m as much of a ghoul as the next man when it comes to sensational news stories and celebrities.

It’s just that stories become so overblown now, with everyone needing to weigh in on their own angle and digging for cultural significance or subtext.

The tide of political correctness is so massive that there’s just one way to react to things, or else risk the collective disapproval of the entire worldwide web.

So now the Guardian has published a long and ridiculous exegesis on the Caitlyn Jenner Phenomenon, comparing her looks to Lauren Bacall and winding up on this note:

Like it or not, the Kardashians have done something positive, progressive and meaningful. The internet era of baring all can be a beautiful thing: prejudice can wither and fall, and acceptance and understanding blossom in its place. And I’m not just talking about Caitlyn Jenner.

Jesus god almighty, can we just shut up about this guy or woman? Fuck her/him already!

Soon enough, people will turn on Caitlyn, because that’s what happens. But until then, we’ll all be judged on our response to her ‘journey.’ Because I’m so awful, I can admit that I’m not impressed by the ‘courage’ it took for a media-savvy reality TV star to use Diane Sawyer to one-up his awful attention-seeking family.

If I were a regular every-day transgendered person, I think I’d feel even more fed up with the adulation this character has received. My inner gay guy (who doesn’t have a name but loves Japanese menswear) is not impressed.

Not to mention Lauren Bacall.

Five Years In

June 6th, 2015


I’ve read that the first four years are the hardest. And you are most at risk to kill yourself.

I’m still here. That can be tough to excuse or justify.

I’ve lit my candle. It’s only right to thank the people who lit candles five years ago when I asked them to.

So thank you. It really helped.


Disappointment #1577689864

May 25th, 2015

handbag raincoat

I was absolutely thrilled when I first saw this little Handbag Raincoat at Shopbop. It’s such an obvious solution to the problem of shielding your nice handbag from the rain! Why didn’t anyone come up with this sooner??

Think of all the times you tried to stuff your handbag inside your jacket when it suddenly started to rain.

When my rose-colored Chanel bag was new (and I’m talking to you David Duff) I worried about the slightest drizzle and I wiped the bag immediately to make sure it was dry. Now that it’s beat-up from years of service, I don’t worry too much about rain.

But what if you have a suede bag, for fucksake! Your bag deserves a raincoat.

It even comes with its own cute little pouch.

cute little pouch

So imagine how disappointed I was when I went back to consider buying one, only to see this review:

ashsmith review

A piece of junk that is nothing but an inconvenience?!

Ugh, you’d have to be pretty stupid to buy one now. Unless the reviewer, “ashsmith,” is just some crazy troll determined to dash my hopes and dreams.

Meanwhile, I’ve been wasting hours looking at expensive designer bags, conflicted about the whole handbag thing, knowing as I do that the nicest handbag won’t help anything. But still.

Does anyone out there still give a shit about handbags? I’d like to hear your thoughts. (But not yours, David Duff.)

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