Adult is Not a Verb.

Posted on July 30, 2017 by Sister Wolf

adult is not a verb

A friend just brought up the subject of using “adult” as a verb, and I figured it’s time to complain about the latest words and usage crimes that are making me flinch.

“Parenting” was bad at first but now I accept it; it will never go away. But adulting? WHY? Can’t you fucking millennials get it through your heads that most of your lives will be spent as a grown up?? Why does it strike you as an amusing condition? Just because you’re too commitment-phobic to buy a car or a house or have children, it doesn’t mean you can act like a baby forever.

Call your Ubers and drink your cold-pressed coffee but don’t come up with these awful words, okay?

A word that’s been cropping up everywhere is “intentional.” It’s a perfectly good word, when you mean “on purpose” and the opposite of “by mistake” or accidental. But does everything you do have to be intentional now? Before you use it, stop and ask yourself if it’s an extraneous word that just makes you sound like an asshole. Better yet, if you like to use it, go here and get back to me.

What about “performative?” People seem to think it makes them sound smart to use this word, but outside of a college classroom, it’s pretentious. Just stop it.

I can’t remember if we’ve discussed “yassssss” before. It literally kills me. I mean literally, because I can feel my soul die a little, each time I see it. That and “woot.”

“Squad” is gut-wrenchingly awful. Are you in middle school? If not, don’t use it and don’t condone its use.

If you read Instagram comments, you should hate these two with all you’ve got: “This is life.” And “This is everything.” Usually it’s in reference to a sweater or something. Can a sweater really be life? Can it be everything? Can’t you just love it or say it’s nice or gorgeous or dope? If it’s life, what’s left?

I’m too angry to continue. Please feel free to add your complaints or argue with mine.

No, wait! I just remembered a word-related moment of joy I experienced last week. I was shopping at a local thrift shop, where the ladies behind the counter are around 100 years old. I heard one of them say to another, “That’s not my jam.” I was astounded; old ladies are that hip now???? Then I turned around and saw that she was talking about an actual jar of jam.

Okay. Your turn!

 

Posted in Rants, Words | Tagged , , | 22 Comments

Let The Cocksucking Begin!

Posted on July 28, 2017 by Sister Wolf

let the cocksucking begin

How many of you were thrilled by The Mooch’s unhinged tirade as reported by Ryan Lizza in The New Yorker? Of course we were astounded at first but really, what’s the big deal? In the Trump reality show, they have to keep upping the ante.

Now that Scaramucci has introduced cocksucking into the national dialogue, I personally could not be happier. Let’s all go nuts, okay? It won’t be long before someone in the White House calls Hillary a cunt. Should we count the days?

Meanwhile, the cocksucking.

Why won’t the Mooch try to suck his own cock? Is it because he’s so short? Does that make it harder? And why doesn’t Steve Bannon succeed in sucking his own cock? How hard has he tried? Maybe he has actually got it mastered, but the Mooch doesn’t know it?

Years ago, I came upon a portal to 1,500 photos of men sucking their own cocks. I swear to god I wasn’t looking for porn or even penises. I might have been looking at vintage photos of petticoats or something, but suddenly, boom, I hit a database of photos. I was afraid to open it. I know I talk a good game but in reality I am very squeamish. I once saw a picture of a girl with two penises in her mouth and all I could think was that she looked like a walrus.

Anyway. In the rough and tumble world of alpha men, is there shame in sucking your own cock? It seems like a feat you might take some pride in. The flexibility! The determination! The high testosterone count!

Vice has some advice on how to suck your own cock, Steve Bannon, but I’m not going to read it. Show it to the Mooch when you’re done.

Going forward, I hope Scaramucci will keep us apprised of all cocksucking in the White House. I’ll bet Melania performed her last duty in that regard many years ago. Good for her.

What about Jared? Has he tried sucking his own cock? Is he sucking someone’s else’s cock? As the season progresses, I hope to find out. In fact, I hope that all will be revealed without having to wait for next season. I’m praying the show will be cancelled just as soon as Trump gets impeached, so we can all wash out mouths out.

But I guess I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. As Winston Wolf says so eloquently in Pulp Fiction, “ let’s not start sucking each other’s dicks quite yet.”

Posted in Art, News, Words | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

All Fall Down: Trumpian Shoes

Posted on July 26, 2017 by Sister Wolf

all fall down

I’ve noticed a new trend in shoes, and it’s perfect for these maddening times. Heels that make walking dangerous if not impossible are kind of Trumpian somehow. Stupid, irrational, and mean-spirited….they are everything but fat and psychotic, right??

The Saint Laurent pumps above are a good case in point. Notice that even though the brand has dropped the Yves from its company name, they’re using it for these heels. Like Trump, they’re flip-flopping on their stated ideals. How dumb would you need to be to buy these shoes?

What about these elephant heels? Why? Just tell me why. Stupid and awful JUST BECAUSE! No one needs to walk on an  elephant, just like no one needs to marry a Slovenian prostitute. To anyone who does either, I remind you that you get what you pay for.

This design isn’t new, but we haven’t had to see it in a while. I remember that Daphne Guinness knew how to walk in shoes like this. But I still don’t get it. Do you have to hop? Is there a thrill in feeling unstable? Again, notice the Trump metaphor.

All roads lead to Trump, I’m afraid. And by afraid, I mean afraid.

Posted in Fashion, Horrible Stuff, Rants | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Feuding Artists!

Posted on July 22, 2017 by Sister Wolf

feuding artists

Anish Kapoor is a celebrated British sculptor whose grand scale works I find thrilling, not that I know anything about art. Last year, he pissed everyone off by gaining exclusive rights to a new color, the blackest black pigment ever created. It was developed by a company called NanoSystem, who believe it is “the blackest material in the universe, after a black hole.”

It’s pretty fucking black. Who wouldn’t be excited about that?

When Kapoor won the rights to use the color, Vantablack, he was ready to defend himself.

Why exclusive? Because it’s a collaboration, because I am wanting to push them to a certain use for it. I’ve collaborated with people who make things out of stainless steel for years and that’s exclusive.

Yeah, but come on, steel isn’t a color. Why can’t you share? What’s your deal? He addressed the issue obliquely:

The problem is that colour is so emotive – especially black … I don’t think the same response would occur if it was white. Perhaps the darkest black is the black we carry within ourselves. It’s not the night where you switch the lights off – it’s the night where you close your eyes. There’s a psycho side to blackness that we don’t associate with other colours readily. I suspect red does the same. I’ve worked with red a great deal, for not dissimilar reasons.

Well, obviously there is no reasonable defense for not sharing the pigment.  So another British artist decided to object by creating the “pinkest pink” and selling it online to anyone who promised not to share it with Anish Kapoor.

Hahahaha, Stuart Semple, you are a prankster after my own heart and I salute you. Here is Semple’s argument:

But wait!  Kapoor somehow got a hold of the pink paint, and posted a picture to Instagram, giving Semple the finger…a finger dipped in his pink.

Semple would not be outdone by Kapoor. He created the world’s “most glittery glitter,” again forbidding sales to Anish Kapoor until he’s willing to share his black.

Feud on, you guys! Life is unbearable except for stuff like this.

Meanwhile, whatever you think of Kapoor, check out his work online. I still revere him. And I want that glitter.

Posted in Art, revenge | Tagged , , | 9 Comments

Trump Twists the Knife*

Posted on July 13, 2017 by Sister Wolf

Piece of shit Donald Trump appraises Mrs. Macron’s body as the President of France and Melania are forced to stand by without killing him.

*the knife in my stomach. Honk if he’s giving you an ulcer, too.

Posted in Horrible Stuff, News | Tagged , , , | 13 Comments

Wentworth!

Posted on July 9, 2017 by Sister Wolf

If you’re not watching Wentworth on Netflix, you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. (If you voted for Trump, the second biggest mistake.)

Wentworth has it all. I thought it ended after the third season, so I’ve been binging to catch up. Watching three episodes in a row is like living in another dimension. It can be hard to readjust to life outside the Australian women’s prison where the series takes place. It’s emotionally exhausting but irresistibly addictive.

Wentworth’s villain is a monumental figure whose match is rarely seen on TV. Governor Ferguson, played by Pamela Rabe, runs the prison like a sadistic Big Nurse, scheming against the women with a vindictive malice than knows no bounds.

She is a fucking psychopath, and at six feet tall, she literally looms over the prisoners like a giant Nazi. I wish someone would agree with me that she looks like Alec Baldwin! The likeness gives me an extra frisson of pleasure whenever she purses her lips or sneers.

Ferguson’s opponent is Bea Smith, whose arc takes her from frightened middle class mom to Mad Max as she earns the position of Wentworth’s “Top Dog.” An earlier Top Dog who Bea must defeat is Jacs, a coarse mobster who looks like Martha Stewart gone bad. Jacs is truly terrifying. I had to cover my eyes constantly when Jacs was around.

Bea’s rival is a boyish lesbian called Franky, who has an enormous lovesick enforcer, Boomer. There is tons of grisly violence that everyone usually forgives as part of the territory.

The Australian accents are an added joy: Debbie is Dibby, and sex is six. Not that there is any six; the seductions here are more visceral and psychological.

Wentworth’s characters are cartoonish, but the actors are so brilliant and committed that they transcend cliches. No one is afraid to be repulsive or grotesque. And once you’re past season two, they’re your family.

Here’s a great scene between Ferguson and her lieutenant, Vera, that might be a spoiler, so beware. If you’re already a fan, please share your favorite Wentworth moments!

 

Posted in Art | Tagged , , | 16 Comments

Why Did God Allow These Boots?

Posted on June 16, 2017 by Sister Wolf

Just kidding, there is no god! But still, wtf with this “boot” by Dsquared2?  The longer you look, the more it doesn’t make sense.

DSQUARED2 incorporates rustic aesthetics with luxurious fabrics and embellishments. The Bou Bou biker ankle boots feature a stiletto high heel, open toe and embroidered denim details.

Fine, but what about that pocket thing? Is it a coin purse? Do you hide your Oxycontin in there?

What an abomination. A snap, a zipper, 5.3 inch heels, plaid cotton….add an open toe and somehow, it’s a biker boot.

It’s a little less scary from behind:

And yet, I just want to wipe it off the face of the earth.I want to see it drowning and calling for help as I watch it go under. Is that so wrong?

At $1,355, there is only one pair left at Farfetch. Because ugly has no price.

Posted in Fashion | Tagged , , | 10 Comments

Calm Yourselves, Children

Posted on June 13, 2017 by Sister Wolf

Noticing a spike in my blog stats, I traced it to a reddit group or whatever they call it, (subgroup? board?) for people who hate their parents. The parents are labeled “narcissists” for the purposes of explaining why they’re “toxic.”

Someone linked to the post I wrote about Mother’s Day, and people are disgusted by how awful I am. Not only that, but they are discovering that my firstborn child “committed suicide.” Aha, proof of my toxicity. One poster is creeped out by my boast of making good chicken.

Here is the problem, Children of Narcissists. You are viewing everything from a particular lens, and you are not seeing the big picture.

Once you’re a parent, you can see things from both perspectives. You know what it’s like to have kids, and you remember what it’s like to be one. And if you have gained any wisdom, you begin to see that we are all wounded. All of us. Don’t make me quote Hemingway here.

In all my posts called Crazy Mothers Club, you can see how widespread childhood abuse is. It is shocking but true. Those of us who were victims can learn compassion, or pretend it never happened, or join support groups. Before the Internet, we didn’t go around looking for other parents to disparage but that was then.

May I note here that my diagnosis is depression and PTSD, not narcissism?

I wonder what kind of parent can escape the wrath of angry, wounded adult children who congregate in forums to share their stories and single out strangers as perps? I know moms and dads who don’t have great or equal relationships with their children, but are nonetheless loving and conscientious parents. We usually do our best. I would say that even my crazy mother did her best, given her difficulties.

I can’t imaging joining a forum of parents who feel hurt by their estranged children. I don’t like groupthink and I don’t want to expose myself to the gripes of bitter strangers whose circumstances have nothing to do with me.

I wish the best to you reddit people. If you haven’t lost a loved one to suicide, maybe you can research it’s effect on those left behind. In your grief over your narcissist parents, you might also respect that there are other kinds of grief. There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. You know what I mean.

I am here for a dialogue, but not for hate mobs. Been there, done that already. If your parents (or kids) are toxic narcissists, please chime in. Help us to understand. Just refrain from bringing up my darling son or you will go straight to hell.

Love, Sister Wolf

 

Posted in Disorders, Horrible Stuff, Words | Tagged , , , | 21 Comments

More Fun With Senility

Posted on June 10, 2017 by Sister Wolf

more fun with senility

Last night I couldn’t think of Billy Holiday’s name when I heard one of her songs, and tonight I talked to my Keurig machine.

It won’t be long now, I’m thinking.

Observing one’s own senility as it progresses is probably a lot more fun than observing someone else’s. My trouble with names is the worst feature so far, but other words are now becoming elusive. Sometimes, in the middle of talking, I have to say “you know, the word that means the opposite of ___.” I find this pretty interesting, because it implies that words are stored along with their antonyms, or at least, in my brain they are.

I am also fascinated by my husband’s skill at retrieving names. He hates me to start a sentence with, “You know that guy in that thing whose name I can’t remember..” He has no patience with this but I keep telling him to get used to it. Soon, I will know nothing but old Dylan lyrics, as I have predicted here many times over the years. I’m great at playing music in my head, probably because there’s so little other cognitive action going on there.

I can’t follow Bosch any more. I have given up trying. I just concentrate on whatshisname’s cocked head and try to predict the dialogue. Every night when we watch TV, I can barely recall what happened in the previous episode. This might be the pot smoking or the late hour, or watching too many Netflix series at the same time, but it’s like, Didn’t that character die already? or “Do we know this guy or is he new”?

Do you believe that the more words you know, the more disturbing it will be to see them go? Maybe if you had a limited vocabulary, it wouldn’t be as frustrating to flail around in the black hole of your memory bank. Meanwhile, I am thrilled when someone uses words or phrases beyond the ones we all hear daily. My sister described walking in a sun-dappled field and I wanted to kiss her for being so descriptive. I’m still enjoying “contemporaneous,” as in “Jim Comey’s contemporaneous notes.”

What if senility lets me keep my old memories but not the words to communicate them? That will really suck. Wait. What happens to people who use sign language??? Oh my god. Do they just wiggle their fingers???

I intend to marvel at the process of losing my mind and to report my findings. If at some point I forget who I am, I’ll have my blog as a kind of dossier. I wonder what I will think of me.

Along these lines, or maybe not, today while we were out walking the dog, I asked my husband what he thinks is important in life besides hair. His answer was “manners.” I’m not sure if he was serious, but I agree that good manners are nice to see. Later, he came up with “food.” So now I have three things, or four when you add “love.”

What am I forgetting?

 

 

 

 

Posted in Disorders, Horrible Stuff, Words | Tagged , , | 10 Comments

Rabid Hatefest

Posted on June 4, 2017 by Sister Wolf

rabid hatefest

I was going to write about something else but a tweet from a journalist I like has destroyed my equilibrium.  Brian Stelter shared a threat he got from a disgruntled Trump supporter:

rabid hatefestWhat inspires a person to take the time to insult and threaten a complete stranger?

When you take this kind of rabid free-floating rage and hatred and you multiply it by ten million, you’ve got a real mess. Slobbering, irrational defenders of some twisted ‘ideal’ are everywhere, finally getting their chance to do some damage however minor. It all adds up.

It adds up and it spreads like a virus. I am part of it. When Ivanka Trump tweets some simpering crap about motherhood, I taunt her. It makes me feel better. However, I’m going to rethink this. I don’t want to be part of any social media hate mob.

I blame Trump for inciting misguided rage and hatred, but it began with the tea party and before that by American meddling in the Middle East. Trump harnessed it and exploited it after half of America went berserk about having a black president. And now, we look at our neighbors and Facebook friends with unease; are they one of Us or one of Them?

Look how easily fear changes people. The forces in charge want to generate fear because it grooms us for manipulation. Fear of perspiration, dandruff, dingy teeth, a limp dick, high cholesterol, cancer, malware, identity theft, militias, drug companies, pesticides,  poverty, terrorists, and nuclear destruction.

Now we’ve turned on comedians. How dare they! Me, I don’t want to suppress free speech. If you don’t like a comedian or Ann Coulter, don’t listen. But people seem primed to be outraged. The smallest things set them off. Maybe the big picture is too overwhelming?

Thinking about terrorists and the death cult that seduced them, I imagine how they’ve been groomed to become suicidal martyrs. That’s a lot of hardcore grooming. You probably have to start with a vulnerable person who feels bitterly cheated and immutably insignificant. Dying in a blaze of glory becomes more appealing that a lifetime of being a nameless dishwasher somewhere.

Poverty, hopelessness, lack of education, plus the systematic instilling of fear – is that the recipe?

Here in the US, Trump has used that recipe with the instincts of a mad savant. The sooner he is revealed as what he is to his deluded followers, the better we can think things through.

I’m not preaching Let’s All Be Nice and Love Each Other: just slow down and decide what kind of person you want to be. Start with compassion and you can’t go wrong.

Instead of tweeting “Shut up you stupid whore” to Ivanka, I’m going to remember that she is a victim of … I don’t know, incest? She too is a human being. I’m not so sure about Jared though.

Posted in Horrible Stuff, News, Words | Tagged , , , | 10 Comments