Godammit, I’m Mad!

After all my labor at Refinery 29, I won a contest at Fashion Intel! Yay! I haven’t had a watch since I lost mine in January, so this is the perfect prize.

Some bitch castigated me for entering the Refinery 29 contests, like it was proof positive of my lonely boring wretched life as a guilt-ridden old crone with no purpose in life.

Fuck you, bitch! My purpose was winning a watch and now I’ve done it.

Why I didn’t win the latest Refinery 29 contest where you had to describe your “steamiest seduction story” is a total mystery, though.  My story was by far the least nauseating. Oh well.

In any case, it has been exhausting to read the hate mail that’s been pouring in this week. If you’re a raving moron who can’t spell “you’re” but you like the word “vitriol,” I know I’ll be hearing from you.  But try to remember: You can’t hurt me and you can’t shut me up.

Love, xo SW

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.

How does the rest of it go? Oh, never mind. How about this instead: In a letter to her followers, trying to clarify her reason for quitting, Mrs. Palin explained “It’s about country.”

Sheeit Negro! That’s all you had to say!

Not that it makes any sense. Here’s her letter, if you want to bother with it. It’s more of the same incoherent whining. “It’s about country” reminds me of Donna Karan saying “It’s about comfort.” I just don’t like sentences that begin with “It’s about.”  But at least Donna Karan has given us some  good fashion, which you cannot say of Mrs. Palin unless you live in a trailer park.

One of Mrs. Palin’s stated reasons for quitting her job is that people have been mean to Trig. I didn’t give it another thought until I read this statement given to CNN by Palin’s faithfully deranged spokesperson Meghan Stapleton. Brace yourself.

“Recently we learned of a malicious desecration of a photo of the Governor and baby Trig that has become an iconic representation of a mother’s love for a special needs child. The mere idea of someone doctoring the photo of a special needs baby is appalling.”

Oooh, you can doctor a picture of a regular baby, but not a special needs baby. Good to know! Here’s the desecration, posted by Alaskan activist Celtic Diva.

The face superimposed on the baby is Eddie Burke, a talk-show host who supports Mrs. P.

This photo was so horrible, so mean, so un-American, that Stapleton wanted President Obama to intervene. She went on to say:

“Babies and children are off limits. It is past time to restore decency in politics and real tolerance for all Americans. The Obama Administration sets the moral compass for its party. We ask that special needs children be loved, respected and accepted and that this type of degeneracy be condemned.”

Wow! It’s degeneracy! I thought it was just photoshopping.

Now that Mrs. P is threatening to sue the internet for spreading rumors about her reasons for quitting,  I can only hope she finds out how many times I’ve called her a crazy bitch and a stupid cunt. A nice lawsuit would direct more traffic here, and then maybe I could designs some shoes for Urban Outfitter or somehow get enough money to pay my car registration bill!

Help me out Mrs. Palin, you fucking numskull!

Mrs. Palin gave a speech the other day, appearing with her new BFF, Michael Reagan, who is one unhinged windbag.

I know it’s distasteful, and also too it’s scary, but if you can gather your strength for a  few minutes,  listen to the audio recording over here, and read about it here. The sound of her voice brings back the whole election nightmare…. and launches a new one.

This bitch is so fucking crazy, and as stupid as the Alaskan summer solstice is long. Be afraid.

* Thanks to Palingates for the lipstick (on a pitbull) collage.

Nah, just kidding.

They don’t know me and I don’t know them. I have never looked at the Satorialist or any other blog that shows people on the street. I don’t want to know about Twitter. But I do spend time looking at blogs, and writing this one.

I would like to pose a question to everyone who is reading this:

What do you want a blog to deliver?

I asked myself this question, more broadly: What am I seeking on the Internet?

I want to be distracted, informed, entertained, amused, enraged, or inspired. I guess I want that all the time, online or off. But looking at what someone wore today, or what they plan to wear tomorrow, is not working for me. I really don’t give a shit, just like no one should give a shit about what I’m wearing.

I love fashion but I don’t love to see people posing in their clothes. Call me crazy. I wish I could find more blogs that fascinate or stimulate some brain activity. I want some wit, some ideas, some raw emotion, some aggression (not aimed at me though, Russian Lady!) I want to see shoes, but not if I have to hear how Smitten you are by them!

Meanwhile, I love nothing more than to engage in conversation with my readers, friends and enemies.

What draws you here, and to other blogs?

Once upon a time, a Crazy Russian Bitch launched a bizarre attack on me on a blog I visited. Then, she started attacking me on her own blog, mocking the way I wrote about my broken pelvis. She blocked me from commenting on these personal attacks, and she finally became so belligerent about me on the first blog that she ended up in a feud with its authors.

Then, she mocked me to one of her readers, David Duff. I found David Duff’s blog and left a friendly comment there.

The Crazy Russian Woman was beside herself. When Mr. Duff refused to be discourteous to me, she was furious. She wrote a post about why he was a bastard, and why she was deleting him from her blogroll!  Ooooooh!

Since then, she has written a vicious post about another blogger who has cancer and had inadvertently enraged her by turning to God.

She has continued to behave like a crazy African dictator, so obviously she can often be enjoyed just for her delusional arrogance. Here, she calls Obama a ’socialist piece of shit.’

Meanwhile, David Duff has continued to defend my honor by maintaining a civil and warm cyber-friendship with me despite the fearsome wrath of Her Craziness.

The internet can be full of potholes for the unwary, but it’s nice when someone turns out to be a true gentleman, even if he’s an archconservative. David Duff is therefore the first recipient of the Sister Wolf Samurai Award. All hail him!

According to this report, Urban Outfitters pulled this t-shirt from its shelves and online store, less than a week after it first arrived. A buyer for the company cited ‘too much bad press’ as the reason for pulling the shirt.

The CEO of Urban Outfitter, Richard Hayne, is a right-wing Republican who supports senators who vote for legislation against gay marriage.  A British business website wrote about this guy in May: “Hayne must be the only retailer whose expansion plans depend on no one finding out who he really is.”

Uh-oh. Now what?

If one were to boycott every company that behaved badly, well, one would be screwed. But it seems especially repellent of Urban Outfitters to cultivate a cool, hipster-ish image for its targeted market, when in fact it’s run be a right-wing homophobe.

I don’t like it. Should we write to Urban Outfitters, expressing our dismay about this? Or should we keep buying their crap because it’s cheap and trendy? My answer is: DUH!

On a happier note, here is a t-shirt my kid designed, to promote autism awareness. Hammie isn’t crazy about the puzzle piece logo, so maybe we’ll get rid of them.

Finally, the crazy lady posted more crazy-ass shit about me, including this:

Свинья всегда лужу найдёт

Can you believe it?!  Sure, I’m a cunt and everything, but not Свинья всегда лужу найдёт, right?

Unexpectedly, the discussion of Triggergate has started up again, and who am I to ignore it? God bless Andrew Sullivan and others who just won’t let it go. Why should they, particularly when new photos are discovered, raising the same questions about Mrs. Palin’s strange secret pregnancy.

Also too, this journalist has compiled some pertinent information, including a link to a video interview where Mrs. P is supposed to be in the final month of her pregnancy and says, in the SAME SENTENCE, that she was able to hide the pregnancy because of her “tight abs” AND ALSO TOO that she wasn’t trying to hide it at all. It is classic Mrs. P, gibberish and lies in the same breath.

Again also too, I have questions about the photo above, showing Mrs. P at her baby shower, just 4 weeks after Trig’s birth.  May I ask, who wears a short skirt in the first month post-partum? Is it Mrs. P’s need to always call attention to her legs? Or is it……you know, the other reason.

Since it isn’t nice to focus only on the negative, and god knows I like to be nice, Mrs. P may be trying to redeem herself with her constituents in Alaska by unveiling a plan to invest an extra $5 million to support children’s health, including a proposed increase in a program for low-income children and pregnant women.

“Interestingly, last year Palin opposed an increase in the program despite the fact that the state had a large surplus because of high oil prices.”

I strongly suggest watching the video of her announcement of this initiative here, because the difference between having a billion dollars worth of make-up artists and stylists is strikingly evident. Mrs P looks like shit, in other words, and who wouldn’t with four kids and a diet of moose, in a horrible freezing climate and a private sunbed to bake one’s face?

The Botox has worn off, and also too the Restylane.

Speaking of ageism, my pesky Russian nemesis has said this about me in a comment thread at another blog:

“No, what’s sad is a 55yo bulimic woman with no profession, no wit, no smarts, no morals but burdened with delusions of grandeur (what passes for grandeur in her tiny brain). Who calls herself [alternatively] a commie, a lesbian, a negress (even put it in email address), or a Devil – while in reality she’s just a grimacing macaque. A yapping chihuahua.

shooo! ”

Why oh why the chihuahua?! I just can’t see it. Why not a Sheltie or Labrador?!

In any case, please refrain from going to her “Salon”, as the increase in traffic makes her gloat. Nyet on the gloating, since the goal is to spoil her fun, if not something a little more, ahem, diabolical.

The Crazy Russian Lady has been busy on her blog lately and while she continues to offend me, it would be wrong to link to her; she would only brag about her new readers. And yet her comment following the news of a neo-Nazi plot against Obama managed to compare it to the Reichstag Fire. (!!!) She is koo koo for cocoa puffs, as I’ve said before, and a mean one, too.

So I’ve decided to copy some of her posts at my, ahem, Tribute Site. That way you can share the hatred without giving her any pleasure. In any case, if you take issue with her at her blog, she will delete your comments and/or “blacklist” you. (Hi, Crazy, I know you’re reading this!)

Earlier today, I was reminded of a person who became my nemesis on eBay. I used to collect Victorian tiger claws, and I know this might be horrifying but there it is: I collected them. I got my first one at a flea market in London and I didn’t know what it was but I loved the engraved gold setting and I wore it on a chain.

When I first discovered eBay, I looked for tiger claws and found there were often five or six every week, usually offered by someone in the UK. I managed to buy a beautiful brooch. Then I realized that nearly every tiger claw was won by the same bidder, whose handle was “shellyel.”  I grew to hate that greedy shellyel, and I wondered what her deal was. I wanted to email her and say “Will you ever have enough tiger claws, you fucking bitch?!” I had to face the fact that whoever she was, she had cornered the entire world market for Victorian tiger claws. It seemed so unfair! Where did she get all that money? Each piece sold for around $150, or up to $300 if it was set with a precious stone or something.

One day, long after I stopped looking at eBay, I was in a boutique with my BFF when I saw a bigass tiger claw hung from a raw leather cord. It was in a glass case. A sales person saw me looking at it and said, “This is by one of our new designers, Shelly Litvak. Isn’t it cool?”

I screamed “IT’S SHELLY!” loud enough to scare my BFF. The price was $3,000. Shelly was pretty smart, some would say. In my world, she’s a fucking, fucking cunt. How can collectors collect stuff when there are wealthy Shellys around?

You can buy her absurdly overpriced necklaces here or you can also look out for her crappy suede handbags that are priced at around a billion dollars.

In case Shelly googles herself and finds this post, Look, Shelly! I have a big double tiger claw necklace with 22k gold thingies, and you can’t have it!

Shit. I need to move on, but how?!?!

I really think I was making progress getting over her until I read this quote:

“I want to be able to help also Americans to know that they can trust their media.”

WHAT IS THAT “ALSO” DOING THERE ?!?!?!?!?!?!?! It’s fucking maddening. Can’t someone sever her vocal cords?

Neiman Marcus is having a special two day sale, but it’s dead to me now, as Tony Soprano would say. I know that’s a good thing, but still. I’d like to hate Neiman Marcus on its own merits.

I do plan to write about fashion here, but only in a complaining way. I’m mad, remember? There are already enough fashion bloggers out there, but I still haven’t met anyone as mad as I am. Today I’m mad at my OTHER next door neighbor, who I’ll call Steven because that’s his name. Steven is divorcing his nice hard-working wife and he’s taking her to court to get spousal support, so he can keep flying to New York all the time, pretending he’s not gay.

Also too, I’m really really mad at that horrible crazy Russian Lady (who famously got all up in my grill) because get this: In her boring and pointless blog, she is comparing Obama’s forthcoming presidency to the reign of Josef Stalin. You heard me. Stalin. And yet, I can’t have her deported or sent to the cornfield!

Okay, that’s it for now. Any ideas on how to overcome my PDS, please advise! Or just go here and scream out loud.