Godammit, I’m Mad!

It’s about time that cunt resigned. I can’t believe he’ll get immunity.

Yesterday, I made the stupid decision to google “Sister Wolf.”

It’s weird to see yourself as others see you. I’m used to interacting with strangers on my own territory but finding yourself being discussed elsewhere is the equivalent of hearing what people say behind your back. And naturally, they want to talk shit about you.

I was so pleased to find several people who loved my blog! But the pleasure gave way to annoyance when I came across a website devoted to criticizing bloggers. There was even a forum for the critics to chat among themselves, but I didn’t read it. It was enough to find some people dismissing me as crazy, with one commenter even noting disgustedly that I should be getting grief therapy instead of blogging.

It has never even  occurred  to me that people might disapprove of my grief.  And I never think of myself as crazy, or even weird. I think the critics were upset that I outed a troll, and that’s something I’ve thought about a lot. Upon reflection, I’d do it again, because that’s the only way to effect a consequence for cowards who want to hide behind anonymity.

Well, you can’t please everyone, right?   It’s better to not google yourself. It’s the one instance where ignorance actually is bliss.

But then, I was buying my kid a wallet at Ross Dress for Less, when a sales assistant asked me if I was aware of their Every Tuesday Discount for seniors. Sure enough, my reflexes are so slow that I didn’t slap her in the face for suggesting that I am a senior. She went on to explain that it’s for people “55 and older.”

I glared at her and said something like, Okay, I’ll take the discount but you’re not supposed to think I’m 55 or older. She smiled back, sweetly and blankly. What a fucking cunt! ™

God, it’s so awful how you can’t control people. I’ll never get used to it. But I can write to Ross Dress for Less and complain about this assault on my self-esteem. It might be fun to try to get them to apologize. I could even call it grief therapy!

Good idea or not?

Godammit, I told you so!.

I can’t stand Arnold and I have never figured out why people believe he is anything other than a big stupid moron. The myth that Arnold is “actually very smart” is just preposterous! Fuck!

Way back in another lifetime, I lifted weights in the gym where Arnold worked out every morning. He was a loudmouthed bully who had a coterie of middle aged halfwits that followed him around and laughed at his stupid jokes. Arnold was an arrogant cunt who bothered women with comments like “I’d like to see you with your panties off!”

He’s what my mom would call a “lowlife.” We’ll never know why Maria Shriver married him and thus gave him a legitimacy that led to his political career, which in turn has left California in fiscal shambles.

Maybe the Kennedy women have a deep-seated need to be humiliated by powerful men. Whatever. I feel bad for Maria and her children, but WHAT THE FUCK WAS SHE THINKING?!?

Thoughts, rants, crap about how “personal lives are nobody’s business?”

It serves me right for reading Bazaar magazine, but when I came across this picture of Sting and Trudie I was filled with horror and outrage. Why does he keep trying to make us sick?!?!

Here’s the good part: If you read the interview, you will grasp the folly of designer labels.

“We like fashion,” Sting says, wrapped in a Rick Owens coat, while Styler wears an artfully ripped Balmain T-shirt and Yohji Yamamoto coat. “We enjoy it; it’s fun. We like going to shows.”

Ugh! Designer labels just define you as a stupid greedy knucklehead. Better to buy your clothes from Target or Walmart.

Thanks, Sting. Now leave the planet. Your work here is done.

*(photo by that other cunt, Terry Richardson)

First of all, I see that I foolishly omitted a blogger rocking the black-hat-with-shorts uniform. This one is called Stylorectic and she just had a baby. She seems to really, really love herself and that makes me uncomfortable. I think this may be the   key trigger of my disdain for certain style bloggers. No one should be so in love with their own self. Einstein didn’t love himself that much!

Then there is the-coveted imbroglio.   Here is a blogger who is an institution, whether you follow her or not. And some cunts come along and start a website with the same name.   Then, they send her a threatening letter, demanding that she not disparage them. Ha!   Let us all support freedom of expression.   Join Team Jennine.

Finally, there is the matter of a strange German man who has sent me an extremely nasty and ominous letter about posting one of “his” images, and then warning me that he’s going to give me a lesson in “RESPECT.”

I will not march to the ovens, Mister Respect! Leave me alone! No one can teach me anything, that has been proven over and over again.

I wish the world would stop trying to make me mad. Even temporarily.

The night before last I stupidly watched a movie called Sisters, directed by some cunt named Douglas Buck.

I admit that I missed the beginning and since it was around 2 in the morning, I was somewhat medicated, ahem. But oh my god, what a piece of shit! Surely it rates as one of the worst movies of the decade and I don’t mean the kind of bad that’s so bad it’s good.

Who is this cunt Douglas Buck and why do people give him money to make films? Before we explore this mystery, let me give you a brief rundown on Sisters:

Lou Doillon, looking more like a horse than ever, is a nutcase who all but emits NUTCASE in neon letters over her head. A doctor played by Stephen Rhea as though striving for a bad acting award, is obsessed with the horse, as is Chloe Sevigny, who plays a reporter but looks like a lesbian college freshman. Weird flashbacks crank up the confusion, and the low budget is like a whole separate character, dominating every scene, Finally, Lou or someone stabs the doctor (or someone) and Chloe puts on Lou’s cheap wig to signify that she is nuts, too.

Back to Douglas Buck, the director. His IMDB credits are pretty sketchy. A forthcoming movie called “The Theatre Bizarre” features characters called “the Writer, Homeless Woman, Junkie Girl” and “Mere Antoinette.” He is credited as one of 6 directors.  Even better, a movie he made in 2003 called “Prologue” has this logline:

A young woman returns home one year after losing her hands in a savage attack. She cannot remember who her assailant was, but a trip to the local post office leads her towards the truth.

Why, Douglas? Why are you so insistent on making awful puerile crap? Is this what you went to film school for? I can’t think of one good excuse for you unless you’re donating your fees to cancer research.   I’m not saying you should lose your hands (in a savage attack); I’m just saying you’re a fucking cunt.

Listen, I don’t know who “Cyril Style” is either, but he’s a complete cunt. In describing a series of photos by Julia Chesky called “The Original Hipster,” featuring a homeless guy in New York, Cyril notes:

Personally I have always found the homeless to be a great source of inspiration and totally agreed with Julia’s title “The Original Hipster”.

A great source of inspiration?!? Who the fuck does he think he is? Erin Wasson?

Cunt.

***UPDATE:   Cyril is a double cunt for modifying his statement with the words “specific details about” after I posted this.   I copied and pasted his statement last night.   I would never edit a quote just to serve my purposes.   Cunt ².

Please force yourself to watch these two minutes of  gibberish, as they will raise your spirits even as they insult your intelligence.  Keep in mind that she’s speaking at a college and yet denigrates college students.

I love this stupid bitch! It’s fun to watch her self-destruct. Cross your fingers that she’ll run in 2012.

Last night I stayed up late watching 44 Inch Chest, a movie that was not appreciated by film critics. As a huge fan of Sexy Beast, I figured it must have something going for it.

If you like British gangster movies, 44 Inch Chest will not disappoint. A bunch of thugs screaming “CUNT!” at each other is my idea of heaven. Ray Winstone, John Hurt, Tom Wilkinson and Ian McShane are fabulous, all obviously relishing the chance to use Cockney accents and slang while inhabiting their violent, sociopathic characters.

Several critics note the undertones of Mamet, Pinter and Tarantino but they forgot to mention Derek & Clive. I fucking loved this movie, you fucking fucking cunts! A movie about revenge and the difficulties of being a man, it is a must for anyone who loves this genre.

President Abdoulaye Wade celebrated Senegal’s 50 years of independence by commissioning a gigantic bronze Soviet-style monument that cost $27 million and was built by workers from North Korea.

Wade calls it a monument of The African renaissance, but critics call it the work of a power-drunk president, who has announced that he will collect 35% of the revenue generated by the monument because “it was his idea.”

Thank you to Braindance for alerting me to this week’s cunt! She has made me realize that I know more about Demi Moore’s body issues than I do about world events.

With 54% of his countrymen living below poverty level, Wade has chosen to indulge himself with a hideous, sexist monument to stupidity, corruption and egomania. I know we can all agree that he’s a complete fucking cunt.