Not Just Stupid But Age Inappropriate

When I saw these boots online,  my heart started racing. Literally. I’m lucky I didn’t have a stroke.

Because I’m old. O.L.D. Too old for these Union Jack boots, even though I love Union Jacks, from a graphic standpoint and because some of my happiest years were in London.

I ordered the boots in two sizes, because with free shipping and returns, who cares? When they came today, I was amazed at how much they looked like the pictures online. Even more so, actually!

I stood up for only a moment before realizing I could never walk in them. The heels are at least 6 inches high. I’m too old to get up and measure them but trust me. I thought the platforms would help but they didn’t.  I was way up in the clouds, far far away from the ground that I desperately don’t want to fall on.

I showed them to my husband before putting them back in the box. He tried not to smirk and quickly looked away.

What does he know?! I thought.

Later, he shared his epiphany about the boots: I’m just too old for them.

I’m pretty sure this is a first. We talk about aging and how we plan to continue doing it. We don’t want to be slobs and we don’t want to change our respective styles. We don’t want to be deluded assholes, though. And so far, so good.

But now I felt defensive about the stupid boots. I insisted that if only I could walk in them, I could make them “work.” I would wear them with long wide jeans, and only the toes would show. IT WOULD BE A POP OF FUCKING COLOR, ALRIGHT?

He was dubious and I took it as a vote of no-confidence in my taste and self-awareness. Like I might suddenly wear black lipstick and a mini-dress with a lampshade on my head. Like I don’t know what I’m doing.

Or do I?

Tell me the truth: Are the boots a sign of senility or a grave miscalculation? Or both or neither? Don’t hold back.

 

Posted in Disorders, Fashion | Tagged , , | 17 Comments

My Fellow Americans

my fellow Americans

I sink I need help.

I come to America to marry rich businessman, not to be chudged every minute by the crooked press and my hussband enemies.

I hate dis song “My Way” but Donald he don’t care. I tell him maybe Sid Vicious version but he von’t listen.

He get Ivanka to choose dress for me and look, a big roll of toilet paper across my breasts! She also give me underpants not spanx and you can see butt-cheeks! So embarrassment. Ivanka you little whore, I will heet you TEN TIMES HARDER.

Ivanka should have to dance with her papa, let her smell hees breath and the crap on hees hair. Let her keep face still when he sing words in ear and try to step on foot.

Whole event make me miss Slovenia for first time. Back with friends and beauty contests and time for my language studies! Now it’s all Donald Donald Donald and Where is Barron.

My poor little Barron, how I can protect heem I don’t know. He chust want to play peek-a-boo and count his fingers all day. Now he start wetting bed again unless that is Donald, no way to tell.

I bring Michelle Obama present from Tiffany and she look like she never see blue box in whole life! The blacks maybe don’t allowed in Tiffany? But I show I am gracious First Lady, that ees all.

I hope they make up separate bed for me and Barron tonight. Then I vill know who peed.

 

 

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Did I Speak Too Soon?

did I speak too soon?Was I wrong about the Worst Thing you would ever see?

Just look at this. This is what someone would do to your jacket if they really hated you. I don’t even know what you’d have to do to make someone that mad.

Maybe if you fucked their husband? This should be called the I Fucked Your Husband jacket, instead of the MOTO Extreme Cold Shoulder.

Topshop says:

The denim jacket gets an unexpected twist in this unique spin on the staple. In a distressed style, it comes with extreme cold shoulder cut-out detail. Comes with a button-down placket and patch pockets. 100% Cotton. Machine wash.

Now see it in action.

did I speak too soon 2?Poor girl.

At only $100, if would be a nice prank gift. Especially for someone who fucked your husband!

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The Wrongest Thing You Will Ever See

the wrongest thing you will ever seeThere are no words.

Whoever Ronald Van Der Kemp is, he is out of his fucking mind.

He wants $1,980 for these…..pants?

yuo will never see anything wronger than thisCan you count the things wrong here? Net-a-Porter gives you some clues:

Ronald Van Der Kemp’s pants take inspiration from military cargo styles and are designed to create the illusion of a checked shirt tied around the waist. Crafted in the label’s couturier in limited quantities, they are artfully patchworked from upcycled cotton-flannel, light-blue denim and camouflage-print twill.

I was going to say that this would be good to wear for the apocalypse, but here’s something funnier: They are sold out in size large.

What a bittersweet moment! Nothing will ever be this hideous and stupid.

Thoughts?

 

Posted in Disorders, Fashion | Tagged , , | 8 Comments

Kellyanne Conway, Still A Fucking Cunt!™

kellyanne conway still a fucking cunt

Dear Kellyanne,

Could you please stop lying for just a moment, you fucking lying cunt?

I know you’re good at it but you’ve already proved yourself a master, okay? What’s your deal? Are you Satan? Carl Bernstein called you Trump’s “Minister of Propaganda” last night and of course that is your real position in the ‘administration.’

Here’s the thing. We need you to shut up.  If there’s no way to shut you up, can you please wear a bag over your head so we don’t have to look at that smile? You look like you would eat a live puppy without flinching.

Please girl, I am begging. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

Thank you so much.

Love, Sister Wolf xo

p.s.  Your hair.

Posted in News, Rants, Words | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

Let’s Cleanse Our Palates With Denim

lets cleanse our palates with denimAs we struggle with a rising national nausea that’s about to hit its apex, let’s calm our acid reflux with some very special denim.

Above, a jacket by Y’s, a line by Yohji Yamamoto. At only $699, it’s a good price for this brand.  Who can finish this sentence:

Sleeves like this are great because _________

Next is an offering from the fabulously popular and overpriced DSQUARED2.

lets cleanse our palates with denimThis is the Cool Girl Cropped Jeans,$775.

Layers of shredded denim lend a patched and worn look to these signature DSQUARED2 Cool Girl cropped jeans. 5-pocket styling. Button fly.

Oh, don’t be so modest, Shopbop! Tell us about the strategic distressing and the bleach stains! Believe me, these jeans will scream Cool Girl no matter what a lame-ass you really are. Worth every penny.

Finally, a nice poke in the eye at a friendly price point. Behold the Turn Up Culottes by EDIT.

lets cleanse out palates with denimFixed, exaggerated cuffs lend an avant-garde touch to these pleated, high-rise EDIT culottes. Slant hip pockets and welt back pockets. Button closure and zip fly.

Welp, they are nothing if not avant-garde, where avant-garde means hideous. I love the pleats, which ensure a bloated look around the middle. The rear view is just as flattering.

lets cleans our palates with denimWho doesn’t want to create this indelible memory when exiting a room?

At only $275, the culottes are a great deal, using the standard formula e (eyesore) x p (price) ÷ sv (shock-value) + u (unwearability) x ? + s (sadness)2 .

 

Posted in Fashion, News | Tagged , | 10 Comments

The Men of The Golden Globes

the men of the golden globes

First of all, there were too many beards.

Jon Hamm, Jake Gillenhall, Ryan Reynolds, Ben Affleck, Dev Patel, go and shave already.

Donald Glover of Atlanta has a beard, but he gets a pass for being so cute and serious and funny and soft-spoken. And for wearing a brown velvet suit. Clearly, he’s an original. He can get away with a lot.

Casey Affleck upped the ante with a low man-bun, but he radiates an intensity that makes you want to forgive him. Almost. He also looks a little nuts, but in a good way. Not like his brother.

Timothy Olyphant was clean shaven but should go back to facial hair. If you didn’t watch Deadwood, you have no idea how attractive he used to be. He walks into a widow’s bedroom and quietly confesses, staring into her eyes,”I stand before you, a married man.” I still nearly pass out when I remember it.

Hugh Laurie won an award for some of the worst acting of all time. His over-the-top villain in The Night Manager was excruciating.

Tom Hiddelston (who had a sparse beard) won for the same series, with acting that was likewise an endurance test. Tom had the incredible bad manners to insist on telling a story about his trip to  South Sudan for the United Nations Children’s Fund. He boasted that the members of Doctors Without Borders had binge-watched The Night Manager, and then praised himself for providing relief and entertainment in “places where the world is broken.”

Are you kidding, you idiot?!? No wonder this douche dated Taylor Swift. I hope this is the last we hear of him.

Leo DiCaprio (bearded) is on the cusp of being too old and portly to play Leo DiCaprio. He didn’t add or detract anything with his appearance. It’s time for him to find the right model girl and settle down.

Then there is Ryan Gosling. Did he have a beard? I think so. I’m pretty sure. Who cares? He is the most charming man on earth. Let’s just thank him for existing.  He is so delectable that I’m going to excuse him for thanking his “lady.” Maybe he thinks “wife” isn’t romantic enough. No one else may say “lady” though, ever.

In general, there were too few men of color. Mahershala Ali, I saw you and I approve, but we need some more brothers up on the stage.

Finally, can I say that Jimmy Fallon ruins everything? May he spend eternity stuck in a room with Tom Hiddleston.

*Let me know if I forgot anything important.

 

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An Exciting Offer From The Neptune Society

A letter from the Neptune Society is a rite of passage I would gladly forego, but they are relentless.

I’ve been getting them for a couple of years, and it occurred to me that it might be nice to share them with those of you who don’t have death breathing down your neck, in the form of cremation offers.

The Neptune Society has the market cornered in name recognition. There are many companies that provide the same services for less than half the price, but in California, most people think Neptune Society. In fact, that’s what my mom arranged for herself.

(Remember when she left me one dollar in her will? She thought of everything!)

Inside the envelope is a syrupy letter explaining why you should ease the burden on your loved ones by planning your cremation in advance. There are a lot of euphemisms, naturally, but here’s the essence of the pitch:

Cremation planning grants your family time to grieve your loss and celebrate your life rather than face confusing choices and high costs.

Fuck my family, know what I mean? Let them face the confusing choices, I’m certainly not going to do it for them.

Here’s what I love about the Neptune Society letters – this hilarious insert.

It’s their clever way of getting your phone number so their salespeople can torment you. Because who could resist a PRE-PAID CREMATION! They make it sound like a trip to Hawaii. And why does that guy with the baby look so happy? Did he just win a cremation or did he find out his parents “planned ahead”?

People in my neighborhood by the harbor are inclined to borrow a boat and throw their loved ones’ ashes into the sea. It’s a DIY kind of thing that really appeals to me. I once wanted to be scattered at Nordstrom, but now I’m conflicted.  And truthfully, I’ve been spending more time at Marshall’s.

As an unwavering Doubter, I wouldn’t trust the Neptune Society or any company to scatter my ashes at sea. How would you know they didn’t just throw you in the trash in a Walmark plastic bag full of coffee grounds?

If you want to see a comprehensive breakdown of fees for cremation and burial services, go here. Note that it’s $25 extra to remove a pace-maker.

Maybe there’s a way to get these fuckers to take me off their mailing list, but it’s a nice reminder of my mortality. Plus, it inspires me to face a new day, just to spite the Neptune Society.

Posted in Contest, Horrible Stuff, Words | Tagged , , | 7 Comments

Giving Up Celebrities

giving up celebrities

When I stopped writing for Popdust a few weeks ago, I never thought I would lose interest in celebrities.

Having to write about them every day involved a total immersion in their real and made-up antics. I labored over the Daily Mail, looking for some news or photos I could spin into a post. I refused to just copy something that had already been posted somewhere else. Even though my writing and the website itself were garbage, I took a pathetic pride in being original.

I became an expert on Kim and Kanye.

My husband had to ask me several times when we were out walking to stop talking about Kanye. I found it hard not to share the contents of my knowledge base. I thought about Kylie and Khloe and Madonna and Gwyneth even when I was off the clock.  I started checking in on them several times a day, worried about missing something.

I followed Rumer Willis on Twitter, and tried to decode her tweets to her sister, whatshername.

Now, I am blissfully unaware of Rumer’s musings, and I don’t know where Kylie stands with Tyga.

Without any deliberate detox plan, I quit celebrities, just like that!

It feels like a miracle. No longer preoccupied with celebrities, I haven’t become more productive and I haven’t developed a new interest, but at least I don’t talk about Kanye. I think it’s a win.

On the other hand, I may have a lot more free-floating rage and hatred. But I will need it for our Insane Clown President. 

In fact, given Matt Taibbi‘s brilliant nickname for Donald Trump, it would be wonderfully fitting if Insane Clown Posse and a few thousand juggalos could perform at the inauguration! Please, universe, make this happen.

Where once I could rant about Taylor Swift with the passion of a crazed zealot, now I have no idea what she’s up to, and I wonder how I could once get so worked up about her.

Maybe it’s the emergence of actual villains that has drained my hatred for celebrities, or maybe familiarity really does breed contempt. Getting some distance from Kim Kardashian’s ass has helped me to refocus on my own ass,  such as it is.

If you fear that you are a hopeless celebrity addict, take it from me, you can live without them. Step 1 is to renounce the Daily Mail, and if I could do it, so can you. Then, move away from your computer and start thinking about your ass.

 

*photo by Juggalo4U

 

Posted in Celebrities, News, Uncategorized, Words | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

Minor Improvements For 2017

minor improvements for 2017As passengers on the Titanic, we should brace ourselves for the iceberg, but there is still stuff we can do to take the edge off.

Let’s think of the small ways we can make our doomed existence more tolerable in the coming year.

I’ll start with words, because they matter.

In 2017, the following words and expressions are hereby banned. If I catch you in the act of using one, I will kill you.

Yassss – No excuse, even ironically. I WILL KILL YOU.

“Dem/Dat ____, though.” – Stop it. You aren’t in Compton. Enough with dis shit.

Push back – Just say disagree or contradict.

Cross-body –  I just hate it and that’s that.

Crop jeans/pants – CROPPED, motherfuckers!

Guys –  Even newscasters now address us as “guys.” It’s not just Taylor Swift. Knock it off.

Athleisure – We’re better than this, aren’t we?

Insta – If you’re too tired to say Instagram, just don’t talk.

 

Now, let’s do topics that need to be put to rest.

Why Trump won– If I hear “The people wanted change” or “You don’t understand” or “She ran a bad campaign” ONE MORE TIME, someone’s going to die.

Misogyny – I know, it’s bad, and so’s the patriarchy. Next subject!

Ridiculing college kids – what babies, safe spaces, microaggressions, stop coddling them bla bla bla. Shut up with that superiority already, we get it.

Anal sex – no longer shocking, just annoying. Happy now, Lena Dunham? Now move on.

Netflix binging – I don’t care what you loved watching if it includes anything with zombies or cyborgs. It’s safer to keep your awful taste to yourself.

The gig economy – Nope. Shut it.

Millennials –  Same as above.

 

For clothes, in 2017, here’s my tip: Find out what’s “hot” (bare shoulders, bedroom slippers) and staunchly reject it. If everyone’s wearing it, don’t.

For music in 2017, try listening to 70’s soul or old gospel or garage bands. Make up an obscure rapper and go around praising his influence as the real OG. I thought Lil Yachty was made up but sadly he is real.

Now it’s up to you. What are your suggestions for easing the horror of 2017?

 

 

Posted in irritants, News, Words | Tagged , , | 12 Comments