First of all, she is fat, let’s just admit it. I saw her on TV with David Letterman, recalling how hurt she was when the tabloids called her “fat”.  Then she talked about her ex-boyfriends, and her new reality show.

Have you ever seen someone on TV who is so stupid that you want to cover your eyes? This is the true horror of Jessica Simpson. She brays loudly and inappropriately after making awkward jokes, all the time being fat. I had to turn away out of common decency.

Now I find that she’s involved with Billy Corgan, who wrote a song for her new show. I know how much everyone hates Billy Corgan but I love him!  Loved him, I guess. Why does he want Jessica Simpson?! Is it because she’s “sexual napalm?” Isn’t napalm a bad thing? And what if he wants a coherent conversation after the napalm?

I’m just depressed about the whole thing. And don’t tell me she’s not fat. She’s not fat like her awful sister didn’t have a nose job.

Mr. Palin responded to Obama’s speech last night with characteristic aplomb. I love her little head movements at around 1:28.  At around 5:03, we get “government takeover and mandation of healthcare.”

I also enjoyed the newly inflated lips!

P.S. The drinking word is disconnect.

There are too many names out there, and it’s getting way too hard to keep up. Who are these John and Kate people who are now having marital problems?

I saw one of them on TV last night, and she was sporting an old school Posh Spice asymmetrical hairdo. What is her point with that, can somebody fill me in? Is she married to a Hawaiian guy, and if so, why? Also, who do they have so many kids? Is it an Octomom kind of deal or just too much fertility drugs?

Also, who is Lauren Conrad? Pictures of her look just like Lindsay Lohan, right? Who is Audrina? Who is Tinsley Mortimer and for the love of god, who is Talor Momsen? I keep seeing these names as though I’m supposed to know who they are!  Oh wait, I know who Taylor Swift is, I think. Is she the girl who plays guitar but can’t sing?

I know who Heidi Montag is! She married some guy and everyone hates them. (I’m just proving that I know some of this shit.) And I know that Hayden Panti-something has an enormous head and looks  middle aged but is really quite young.

Are all of these people on the same TV series? Why are they all blond? Why do some of them have clothing lines while others don’t?

Oh no, one more just popped into my head…Whitney Port or Something Whitley? Make them Staaaaahp, Bethenny!

Speaking at a Right to Life banquet on Thursday night, Mrs P said she was energized about a lot of topics, including why more people should refuse federal stimulus dollars as she did.

Palin said, “We have legislators all around the country who have resolved to kind of go around their governors, that’s happening in my state, and accept that money anyways.”

(I LOVE a woman who says “anyways,” don’t you?)

At first, you assure yourself that no matter how pathetic you are, you would never stoop so low as to watch “Rock of Love,” because (a) You don’t watch Reality Shows, (b) You’ve always hated Bret Michaels, and (c) There are some things you Just Don’t Do.

Later, your husband develops a perverse fascination with “Rock of Love 3″ and you find yourself transfixed by the horror that is Bret Michaels’ face. Still later, you are enslaved by the unspeakably tawdry proceedings, and like a Roman at a vomitorium you lose all sense of shame.

As the series moves towards its conclusion, you are gratified that all the blonds have been kicked off the bus. It’s empowering for brunettes, if being a dumb whore willing to kiss the monstrous lips of Bret Michaels can be considered a good thing. Now there are two dumb whores left, the Girl Next Door and the Penthouse Pet.

Your husband has begun to turn to you and say: “I’m sorry, your tour ends here.” When you scream in anguish, he comes back with “Will you stay on the bus and rock my world?”

It’s beyond horrible. Everything about it is sickening and stupid. But you must know how things turn out!  Will it be Mindy, a moron from Kentucky who finally gets her moustache waxed in the final episode? Or will it be Taya, a steely pro with enormous tits and a husky smoker’s voice?

DUH!

My husband thought it would be Mindy, proving that deep down he’s an Incurable Romantic.

I figured it would be Taya, based on the old maxim that ‘A Penthouse Pet Outranks the Girl Next Door.’ Thank god I was right and thank god it’s over.

Oh dear! The Nostrilled One expands upon her appreciation of  homeless style :

“I was not meaning to demean homeless people whatsoever! I have actually talked to these homeless people. I’ve had conversations with them. It’s a choice that they’ve made. They don’t want to have a job. They enjoy being completely free. I’ll see people on the beach and aesthetically, they look awesome, and because it’s so uncontrived and uninhibited. I got a lot of heat for that. It wasn’t that I was like ‘Oh yeah, homeless people are so cool; it’s so cool to see people that are homeless looking cool.’ It’s the lack of complexity in the way that they dress and the fact that there’s no thought behind it whatsoever that’s so righteous. You know?”

Hahaha!  What a Fucking Cunt™!

Today I stopped at a Starbucks on my way home from an exciting outing to a box store. I checked out the two girls in front of me, who were decked out in a weird combination of work-out attire and leather. They were both tall and somewhat lesbitious looking.

One of them addressed the barista as though speaking to a member of a lower caste. “We want the coffee that gives money to AIDS,” she explained. “We want to make sure we get that kind, okay? That’s why we came here.”

(Now, I’ve seen the new Starbucks commercial, announcing that 5 cents from each coffee will go to the Aids fund.)

The guy looked baffled but game. “Uh, okay,” he said. “I’m not sure what kind that is.” He conferred with another guy and took the girls’ orders. They spoke loudly, like the Martian family on Saturday Night Live pretending to be from Paris.

“How do we know that the money is going to the charity?” demanded the more lesbitious of the two. The guy fumbled his way through an answer, obviously unaware of how the Starbucks ‘Red’ enterprise was supposed to work.

Watching this interaction, I was absolutely flabbergasted. I wanted to scream, “I’ll give five dollars to AIDS if you’ll just shut the fuck up and let me get my coffee, you fucking morons! You’re talking about ten cents!”

After politely ordering a normal cup of coffee, I wandered outside, filled with rage and wonder. Are there really people walking around, expecting the Nobel prize for giving ten cents to charity? This is why I’m better off staying at home and sending the husband to go to the box store.

I’ve just read about the Starbucks Red deal at the Starbucks website, where I learned that:

“In honor of the 20th World AIDS Day on Dec. 1, Starbucks will contribute five cents from every hand-crafted beverage sold that day at participating stores in the U.S. and Canada to increase awareness of AIDS in Africa.”

Hand-crafted beverage?! God. Just yesterday, I realized how much I hate the word “artisan,” thanks to hearing it attached to things like bread. Now I’m ready to hate “hand-crafted” too.

Two new collections of essays by George Orwell are as relevant today as when he wrote them. In Orwell’s “Politics and the English Language” (1946) he connects degraded language with the decline of contemporary culture and political thought. He also says this:

“All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred, and schizophrenia.”

Keeping that in mind, an important essay by Mark Lilla in the Wall Street Journal outlines the history of “Populist Chic”  and what it means for the conservative intellectual tradition. He describes how a disdain for liberal intellectuals slipped into “a disdain for the educated class as a whole.”  He laments that the result of this movement was the promotion “of a candidate like Sarah Palin, whose ignorance, provinciality and populist demagoguery represent everything older conservative thinkers once stood against.”

On the same track is an op-ed in the New York Times today called “Obama and the War on Brains.” Nicholas Kristof reminds us that the second most remarkable thing about Obama’s election “is that American voters have just picked a president who is an open, out-of-the-closet, practicing intellectual.”

Yeah, baby! That’s what I’m talking about. Let’s make stupidity a sin instead of celebrating it. Eight years of W have been more than enough. People who don’t read newspapers and scoff at science should know enough to be ashamed of themselves.

We need to raise the tone! We need to insist that people think and read and be proud of their vocabularies instead of being afraid to sound elitist. America is the only country I know of where “real people” means simpletons. We need to respect intellectuals instead of regarding them as suspect.

Today my friend Mark was visiting from Connecticut and he tried to describe how his hatred of Sarah Palin wasn’t just partisan but personal. That’s the issue that has set many of us apart from other Democrats and liberals: We fucking hate her and we still do! I think that above all, it’s the proud stupidity that she wears like a crown. Today in an interview at her home, while cooking up some moose, she said this:

“Regarding information regarding my record, that its now out there much of it that was based on misinformation was a very, very frustrating thing to have to go through when the record was never corrected.”

Huh? Say again, in English?

Asked to be specific about the misinformation, she said…..

“Some of the goofy things like who was Trig’s mom. Well, I’m Trig’s mom (raises her hand) and do you want to see my medical records to prove that?”

Hahahahaha! YES, YOU MORON, we do!  Until she does, I guess I’m doomed to keep hating her and writing about it.  Just not all the time.

Citing her right to privacy, Gov. Sarah Palin refused to say who she voted for after emerging from her polling place in Wasilla, Alaska.

That’s right, she wouldn’t say she voted for her own presidential ticket. We assume she did, but she stood on principle and wouldn’t say. She did say the secret ballot is one of the “cool” things about the U.S.

Hahaha! She can’t tell the truth about anything. God, I almost love her.

Goodbye, you stupid bitch. Close the door behind you. Let’s let Honeypants have the last word, since she found this beautiful picture that encompasses the entire story of Mrs. P.

‘HA! That same liberal Jew co-worker just got back from knocking on doors all morning in Hollygrove (the neighborhood of NOLA where Lil Wayne is from), and he said some old black man was crying and said “I never thought I’d live to see the day when a young white man came knocking on my door to tell me to vote for the young black man.” ‘

This is a quote from a piece about Mrs. P in the New York Times. I couldn’t agree more.

Surely your hair says something about how you perceive yourself and how you want to be perceived. Personally, I never liked to wear my hair up, because it would send the message that I was “trying.” I didn’t want to be thought of that way. Trying was okay if you succeeded, but trying was very sad if you failed.

Now, of course, I feel differently, thanks to Amy Winehouse. Wearing my hair in a beehive, I am making a whole new statement. I am saying, “Look! I’m not afraid of looking goofy! I won’t go to rehab, either!” It is empowering, not “trying.”

I know EXACTLY what that moron Palin is saying with her hair, and so do you! She is saying: “I could take this hair down and give you a lap dance, IF I FELT LIKE IT!” And every man with eyes in his head can read her message loud and clear.  You know who else hears it? Wig Salon.com.

Sadly, they don’t offer the Sarah Palin Style wig in brown with gold highlights, but they recommend trying it in Ginger Brown to get her look.

I know you’re getting sick of this subject, but try to hang on. Read this, I’m begging you, before you read anything else. If it doesn’t stir you to join Pap Smear or to some better form of political activism, you are beyond the prayers of Sister Wolf.