Old People who Dress Like the Olsen Twins

A Fashion-Don't-EVER.

Dooky-brown, polyester knit trousers. Ewwwwwwwwwwwww. No one—NO ONE— looks good in these, and I can’t for the life of me figure why anyone “designed” these ugly fuckers. 

Come on! Who would buy these pants and think, “Yeah! These will look great with my white tennis shoes and short-sleeved, plaid shirt that has absolutely no brown in it and an off-white cardigan?” Who? Ohhh. Yeah. I know who. Male community college teachers. You know. The ones with so much dandruff that you just think the cardigan is off-white? Jesus. How can those bastards not see all the half-dollar-sized flakes of old, crackly skin that adhere to their liver-spotted scalps and three spindly grey hairs like extra-giant-head-lice snow sleds? Do they not realize the wife quit buying corn flakes years ago? Do they not have a clue that they walk around scenting the world with their essence of funeral home? And what about that pasty white shit in the corners of their mouths that wiggles and snaps when they speak? How can they miss that when they glue in the dentures each morning? Rinse, for God's sake!

I have just discovered a wonderful way to lose lots of weight. It’s even better than NutriSystem ®. I am going to picture that fellow who brushed by me this morning on the way to his classroom. I will see the stark contrast of the white sneakers below the too-short brown slacks. I will imagine the aroma of death and antiques. I will conjure the image of great chips of dead skin floating toward me. And I will never be able to eat again.

Some MORE People Who Need to STFU.

Sooooooo. People just love to talk. Especially  me. That’s a given. But in the last week or so there has been entirely too much discussion about the bullshit between J.C.Penney and Ellen DeGeneres and One Million Moms. (So of course, I've got to add my two cents.) The latter, a group of, like, a gazillion moms, came out and said that J.C.Penney spokesperson, Ellen, should be fired because she’s gay. And I say, “You go, girls! That’s the way to call the shit.” Who wants some fucking lesbian spokespersoning anyway? I mean, we need to keep as many of those immoral bitches in the closet where they belong, am I right?

Nah. I’m just fucking with y’all. 

One Million Moms should eat steaming shit and live to regret it. I probably shouldn’t have said that the One Million Moms “came out,” huh? Heh.

So. Dear One Million Moms: Are you completely and totally shitting me, you fucking stupid bunch of crack-whore-minivan-chauffeurs? What? Do you think being gay is somehow contagious? Do you think those ugly-assed children you all vomited out of your vaginas will “turn” gay because they wear clothes promoted by a woman who probably has better sex than you do? Are you afraid that if you shop at J.C.Penney now that people might think…gasp. The unthinkable? That they might think you have had oral sex before? Ohhh. Wait. Clearly, oral sex is not just for lesbians, now is it? And WHAT makes you so different, huh, you far-right-wing flaky tarts? Are you BETTER because you allow male sex organs all up in your woman parts? Should we assume you are all gonorrhea-infested sluts because you show unmistakable evidence that you’ve had sex with male sex organs? Damn. I’m not sure I want to wear heterosexual-marketed clothes now. Bleck. But that gonorrhea-infested-sluts assumption is about as stupid as ANY assumption that homophobes ever make about homosexual folks. Plus I just like saying “gonorrhea-infested sluts.”

To be absolutely fair to J.C. Penney, the management stood by our fair Ellen. And I could live in that store. The A.N.A. t-shirts come in the best colors and have actual sleeves for maximum underarm-fat coverage, unlike most t-shirts these days with their unflattering cap sleeves. And Decree jeans rock so badly that I’ve had on the same pair for approximately six months now, and they hardly smell.

If you haven’t been to JCP lately, you need to get your butt over there because their sales are insane. I went there recently, and the clerk handed me the bill. And it said $0. I was all like, “STFU!” And she was all, “Nuh uh.” And I was all, “STFU!” And she was all, “For real!” And I was all, “STFU!” Then she finally had to threaten to get security to usher me out. But, I shit you not about the $0. I had earned $10 in JCP rewards cash, and I found an amazing pair of pants that was originally priced at $55. There was a natty 70% off sale, plus an additional something-percent off all sale merchandise, so the final price came to $10, and you can figure out the fucking math because I’m too damned tired right now. But, yeah. I just handed the clerk the $10 JCP rewards coupon, and she handed me a free pair of pants. Best. Shopping. Day. Ever.

Not only do I love JCP, but I LURV Ellen DeGeneres. I cannot read a single one of her books in bed because I snort laughter so loudly that I wake up my husband. Or I try to contain my reactions but end up shaking the bed so hard that he wakes up anyway. I can’t help it my massive belly laughs register on the Richter scale. Shut the fuck up. I’m working on it. I just limited myself to three handfuls of Peanut M & M’s ®.

Ellen is hilar and beautiful and brilliant. She once did an entire stand-up routine that consisted of her eating a hamburger meal while she repeatedly—with a mouthful of cow and bun— asked the audience to hold on one more minute. I’ve loved her ever since her phone-call-to-God gag in which she said, “Hello, Mr. Dammit.” She handled with élan the initial brouhaha over her coming out years ago, and, again, she’s proven herself a classy dame in this horseshit with One Million Moms. Hell. She even got Bill O’Reilly’s support, and that is the shit. So, to all you One-Million-Mom-gay-haters, I’ll say what I’m sure Ellen would LOVE to but won’t: Suck my dick. (Said Ellen. Not Bloggurl. Yep. Just filling in for Ellen.)