See this fabulous beehive? This is what I’d like to take to the bank so that I might accept this gracious invitation from Opening Ceremony:
But no, the bank won’t send me to Paris. Fuckers. Why? Because they don’t want me to look at Chloe Sevigny‘s latest shit, or even Erin “Homeless” Wasson’s! There is no justice in this world, as I had already suspected.
Next, that fucking Octomom is driving me insane. Is there no end to this?! Her lips are even bigger now, on the verge of exploding. Go here and watch her argue with her mother. The sound of her voice is maddening. Quick reader poll here: What’s worse, her face or her voice?
Third, the boyfriend jean has now spawned the ex-boyfriend jean. This is an incredible development that signals the coming apocalypse.
How do you tell the difference? Will there be an ex-husband style, too? God, I can’t stand the ripped jeans thing. We baby boomers have already been there, done that, or at least sneered at the people who did.
Finally, summing up tonight’s complaints are these crazy new pants that I think are pretty awesome (and not in a homeless way) but can no longer afford.
Do you love them or do you love them?! Imagine them with a beehive! Waaaah!
I could shop my closet forever without finding these Kirrily Johnston pants. They’re so epic, right? Well, there you have it. I was planning to complain about porn too but I’m already too mad to think clearly. If you want to read some idiots trying to decide if porn is art, go here.