Godammit, I’m Mad!

Every time I read a thing about bloggers having to find a niche, my heart sinks.  I’m not doing anything right. I’m also supposed to put keywords in my post titles, and to figure out what kind of posts bring the most traffic. That way, I can give the readers more of what They want.

I’m terrible at following rules, even when it would be in my best interest.

I also read some shit about finding your Voice and establishing your Brand. No problems there, I think. My Voice is my actual voice, and the Sister Wolf Brand..well, duh.

But here’s a great idea for a niche. Shopbop, my favorite online shopping site, has announced that returns of their merchandise are now free! So is shipping. Wouldn’t it be great if I spent the rest of my life ordering stuff from Shopbop, modeling it, and then sending it back?!

I could let readers vote on what I have to buy and model! I could try to pose like Goony Bird! I could glower like Starvng Girl! I could wear rompers and sequin shorts! The possibilities are endless. And horrible!

I wish I had the energy to carry this out, don’t you? I could get really famous as That Crazy Woman Who Models Shopbop Crap. But would I get a book deal, do you think?

I’m not doing anything that won’t get me a book deal. In fact, that is my motto from now on. I’m going to try it out on my husband when he gets home tonight.

Dear Jesus,

I try to be a good person but why is it so hard? Today, I went to a nice Superbowl party and spent most of it in the kitchen at the host’s computer, listening to Mrs. Palin talkin’ about runnin’ for President.

People walked past me, wondering why I was looking at Mrs. P. I explained that she is the wind beneath my wings. I knew I should have been socializing, but when I did, I made someone cry by telling her about my personal difficulties. The hostess made another fabulous nine-layer Jello and gave me some to take home.

At home, there were chores to do and messes to clean up. Instead, I went back to the computer and read more about Mrs. Palin. Why did she allow her hand to be photographed with stupid reminders written on it? Is she really that stupid retarded? Is it some sort of conspiracy? Is she trying to connect with her “base” by showing that she’s too gosh-darn dumb to remember her three talking points?

And then, Jesus, I went to look at Mom of Shoes, who is boasting about her “find” on eBay: a pair of Chanel Ponyhair boots for $1,199 plus shipping.

Why, Jesus?! Why do I sully myself with the folly of others, when I shoud be looking for a job or washing the dishes? Why can’t I get my priorities straight?

I’m already full of Effexor, so I can’t increase my dose. I think I’m looking for escape. I know I’m looking for escape. I can’t hold my liquor, so that’s out.

Can I use my stress and depression as an excuse to scroll through Mom’s eBay purchases…55 in the last month alone, mostly comprised of tragically ugly animal-themed costume jewelry?

Show me the way, Jesus. Give me a sign. Just don’t fuck with my Internet connectivity.

You know that website bloglovin? Well, nobody likes me there, but people who do (even though they don’t exist) also like a blog called Nubbytwiglet.

Nubbytwiglet is a really horrible girl who looks alot like Sarah Silverman, which for me is not a good thing. Not at all. She has lots of advice about how to be successful and famous. She is the last person I would want to be associated with.

Fine, maybe not the LAST but close. Why aren’t I popular?! I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, dog-gone it.  Shit. Is it because I’m a cunt?

My friend and fellow blogger Janet, who goes by the name Iheartfashion, has lost her husband to suicide. It is a terrible time for her and her two kids. No one saw this coming, and now she needs our support. If you can make a donation, even a tiny one, go here. If you can send her love and strength, go here.

Janet has listened to me in my moments of darkness. She is a woman with a big heart who now has a tough road to walk, but let’s remind her that she’s not alone.

Remember when Lady Gaga said that on live TV? I thought it sounded insulting, until one of my own gays explained that she used the words ironically.

Watching Anderson Cooper reporting from Haiti tonight, I was struck anew by his charisma, courage, and palpable warmth. He manages to convey such genuine emotion without sacrificing professionalism. He is the essence of calm and confidence. He is hunky in a tight black t-shirt. And all the time, he’s as gay as the day is long!

I want Andy to come out. I know, I know, he’s not in the closet, but he’s not totally out yet, not officially. I can understand the notion that he doesn’t have to share his sexual orientation. There is dignity is keeping your private life to yourself, god knows, especially in this age of blubbering celebrity confessions.

But Anderson Cooper needs to let “Middle America” know that this is what a gay man looks like. He’s not some Other who’s threatening their Way of Life. He would give gay teenagers someone to look up to, a role model to guide their way. Does he owe it to gays to come out?

I think he does.  Because if he doesn’t, he’s implying that it needs to be a secret. And that has to change.

A popular blogger ‘came out’ recently to reveal that she’s been diagnosed with MS. She is aware that society feels uncomfortable around people with incurable illness, and people in chronic pain. But she empowered herself (even though I still hate the word “empowered”) by speaking up. Now, more people will feel okay about being who they are.

Everyone needs to practice tolerance and acceptance. We should condemn only stupidity and narrow-mindedness. I don’t know if it’s PC to call myself a fag hag, but I do love my gays and I want them to get married so I can nag them to let me be Best Man at the wedding.

Should Anderson Cooper come out? Or should he keep quiet like Tom Cruise, John Travolta and George Clooney?

I came across this picture of a Nature Girl With Lesbian Stick while browsing at twistedlamb, a blog with a very strong sensibility I’ll call Pagan Hipster. It involves S & M, sexual ambiguity, Goth glamor and a whiff of bestiality. It’s the work of a stylist who manages to find strikingly sinister images that often attract and repel, without just relying on leather and spikes.

When can we call for a moratorium on leather and spikes? It’s like every sex-shop since the beginning of time has spewed its merchandise all over the fashion industry, leaving moto-this and moto-that everywhere. Enough, for godsake! The backlash is bound to be a return to modesty and preppy cleanliness. I think I’m ready for it.

Looking around the fashion blogs, I see how many are basically a collection of images, sometimes punctuated by a collage of “Stuff I Love!” or “Things That Inspire Me!” Kate Moss,  Bridgette Bardot, Anita Pallenberg, and Jane Birkin are the usual style muses, then there’s some obscure Death Metal Band or European poet.

I’m more inspired by people like Tragic Fashion Boy, who makes a bold new statement with red (thanks to andrea for the tip!)

For some reason, even though he evokes my maternal instinct, I just can’t imagine being his mother. But in the photo below, I feel he is talking to his mom. Am  I right?

Who is he talking to, and what is he saying?

Look what my brilliant friend Hammie developed to help non-verbal kids communicate, starring her daughter Grace. If only we could all have mothers like Hammie (and daughters like Grace!)

And not only that, she called me a stupid cunt! See, this is why I’m against comment-censorship. Instead of deleting Ellen’s rant, I would like to deconstruct it. I will need all the help I can get, though. Here is Ellen’s reply to my last post:

dude, don’t hate the player, HATE THE GAME. opiates feel so good. im sure you don’t hate on people who drink booze, and yet look at all the damage alcohol causes to peoples lives. on one hand you are ‘taking up bandwidth’ as you call it, with your endless bitter pap, yet you encourage (nay, harrass) people you don’t even know to ‘look at themselves’ and accuse them of being unhappy and damaged. I think in the case of bloggers who don’t walk their own talk, they SHOULD censor THEMSELVES, so we don’t have to constantly roll our eyes at their bullshit, denial or not.

First of all, why do these people call me “dude?” I feel like the Elephant Man! I AM NOT AN ANIMAL! I’m a  female! Next, “don’t hate the player, hate the game:” Is that a lyric from a rap song? I don’t understand it. Can I hate the player AND the game if I want to?? And also too, must I hate “on” things, rather than simply hate them?

Then the opiates. Jesus. Anyone who promotes the use of opiates is either hopelessly naive or contemptible. It’s like being in favor of drunk driving. The only outcome is prison or death. Anyone who persists in thinking that drug addiction is cool is in for an ugly awakening.

Let’s see, what next. There’s the “endless bitter pap,” but that’s fair enough. One’s person’s pap is another person’s epiphany.

But what about the “nay?” That is a problem. Why does Ellen use the archaic form of “no” in that sentence? Is it ironic or just pretentious bad writing? English majors, speak up!

In the last sentence, Ellen suggests that I don’t walk my own talk. I have searched for the meaning of this expression and it seems to mean “practice what you preach.” Ellen, I wish you had been more specific! I do use a walker at present, so try to go easy on me. If you’re trying to say I’m a hypocrite, then yes, I’m at least as hypocritical as the next person.

Finally, in her follow up comment, Ellen suggests that I’m a stupid cunt, and here I must vigorously disagree. Stupid is such a relative term, after all, and while I’m certainly stupid in my own way, I’m not nearly as stupid as Ellen. Therefore, I remain a cunt, but not a stupid cunt.

I subscribed to a fashion blog called Fashion Copious a few weeks ago, and felt increasingly creeped out by its contents.

Today, upon realizing that I’ve become more familiar with Kristen McMenamy’s waxed landing strip that I am with my own Female Area, it suddenly hit me: This isn’t fashion, it’s porn. Soft porn, to be sure, but still. The focus of this blog is not just naked models, but very young naked models. The girl above looks like a starving pre-adolescent, but the blog’s author finds her rapturously beautiful.

Who the hell is this guy, anyway? Does anybody know his credentials, besides a keen appreciation of nude models?  With every post, he has a feature called “What My Girls are Liking” that usually features trampy girls posing in trampy outfits. What does he mean, “My Girls?” Is he a pimp or a modeling agency or what?

I feel tainted and ashamed. Sorry, naked young models! Please go home now and have something to eat!

Wendy Brandes hosted a dinner in L.A. for her blogger friends, and she wore this ring, one of her more spectacular designs. She even let me try it on!

It was a lovely dinner and everyone had a great time.

Here’s the thing that surprised me most: She is not just pretty, but stunning. I nearly fell out of my chair when she arrived. She appears to be made of porcelain, or white marble. She is small but perfectly shaped. She looks brand new, like she just came out of the box. She is a sex kitten, frankly, despite her big brain.

I nearly molested her, but since we both agreed that we don’t believe in ‘bisexuals,’ I restrained myself.

If you have money and taste, buy youself a piece of  Wendy Brandes jewelery. And try to see her in person, if you have the chance.