| And I'm getting madder.

Goodbye to Johnny Depp

Posted on June 27, 2013 by Sister Wolf

I’m making it official. After twenty years of devotion to Johnny Depp as my go-to romantic fantasy, I’m breaking up with him.

The silly hats and the hobo outfits have been trying. The prayer-hands in response to applause have been embarrassing. The unceasing bromances with every male cultural icon from Hunter Thompson to Marlon Brando, ick.

Through it all, I excused his pretentious bullshit because he was Johnny Depp. He was just quirky.

But according to a new interview in Rolling Stone, Johnny Depp “always carries around a copy of Finnegan’s Wake, which he’s been puzzling through for years.”

Jesus, no.

There are limits to what is forgivable, and this is mine. Just last week, I defended Johnny Depp when my friend denounced him for dating a 27 year old model. I told her that he deserved a 27 year old model. His taste in women has always run to perfect doll-like beauties. Who could blame him, I lectured, he’s Johnny Depp.

But now I’m sorry I took his side. ‘Finnegan’s Wake?? ‘Ulysses‘ wouldn’t be poseur enough for him? Nobody can understand Finnegan’s Wake except my brother-in-law, and the rest of us know to stop trying after two pages. Johnny Depp is like a college girl carrying around Anais Nin. People who try to seem intellectual are just sad. I’ll always remember a pop singer who said in an interview that her idols were Madame Bovary and Anna Karenina. Every time I hear her voice, I feel sad for her. That’s how nice I am.

Goodbye, Johnny. You were so cute, so sexy, so fucking adorable in ‘What’s Eating Gilbert Grape.’ But it’s over.

Posted in Celebrities, Words | Tagged hotties, Johnny Depp, pretentiousness | 30 Comments

Desecrating Your Temple

Posted on June 20, 2013 by Sister Wolf

Everyone is freaking out about Michelle Kobke, who managed to create a tiny waist by wearing tight corsets.

Personally, I find it disturbing to look at, but if her body is her temple, she is free to desecrate it.

Our eyes may not be accustomed to this distorted hourglass figure, but I don’t think it’s any stupider than getting obviously fake breasts.

Women are doing horrible things to their bodies all the time and as we have discussed, men are up to no good too. I don’t know why people aren’t commenting on Angelina Jolie‘s choice of over-sized implants that are so disproportionate to her small frame. Is it because she’s supposed to be an icon of courage and righteousness?

Huge lips, tiny noses, enormous implants, hair extensions, fake cheekbones, it’s all bad. Michelle Kobke’s waist shouldn’t come as a shock at this point. Our bodies have ceased to be our temples and have become our enemies. My own body is generously providing me with hot flashes and a nice roll of flab where once there was muscle. I’m not going to make my temple a battleground! I’m not going to do ONE SINGLE sit-up.

Because all my energy goes to my hair.

Posted in Disorders, Horrible Stuff, News | Tagged Angelina Jolie, body image, plastic surgery, vanity | 22 Comments

Rating Douches

Posted on June 13, 2013 by Sister Wolf

Douches are easy to come by, but look how special they are when you have three. See here to refresh your memory.

Here’s a good one I found last week:

By ‘good’ I mean fulfilling most of the requirements, although he lacks a beard and those things in his ear-holes.

I’d like to have a point system for rating douches, like hunters have for deer, with 10 being the perfect score.

Neck tettoo
Beard
Shaved back of the head
Cigarette
Ear plug or septum ring
Sullen expression
Knuckle tattoo

Shit! That’s only seven. What attributes am I missing? Or should a full beard get extra points?

Please help. It’s for science.

Posted in Fashion, irritants | Tagged beards, douches, male models | 27 Comments

Shoe Choices

Posted on June 13, 2013 by Sister Wolf

Who wouldn’t want these expressive shoes?I love them. Only $59.95 and appropriate for every occasion.

These shoes, on the other hand, are crap. Worse than crap. They are an insult to humanity. Priced at $899.95, they will only attract the top tier of fashion victims and Daphne Guinness acolytes. If you’re wondering what they look like on a foot, here:

If only we could see her try to walk!

Both styles from Solestruck.

Posted in Fashion | Tagged hideous crap, online shopping, shoes | 9 Comments

Torturing the Guests

Posted on June 11, 2013 by Sister Wolf

Over the weekend, we hosted a small family birthday party. We had chosen the movie Edmond for the post-dinner entertainment, confident that none of our guests had seen it, since no one has, except for us and some disgruntled reviewers.

As we watched the movie, I began to regret choosing it. Maybe the guests weren’t in the mood to watch someone kicking the shit out of a pimp while screaming “Nigger! Coon!” or stabbing a waitress with such gusto that the squishing sounds are even worse that the images. I felt guilty for imposing such an ordeal on six innocent (or at least, fairly innocent) people. The movie is a bleak and punishing exploration of White Male Rage, but my husband and I find it hilarious.

My nephew and his girlfriend watched with wide grins on their faces, so that was a relief. I’m not too sure about the others. At least I found a reviewer who regards Edmond as a black comedy. See it at your own risk.

After the movie, we continued to eat and drink. The conversation turned to music festivals and LSD. I recalled a guy I knew who took some acid at a rock festival and never returned to his normal self. His blue eyes remained bugged out with paranoia and who knows what.

Now my nephew took issue with my description of tripping as a psychotic state. He argued about the meaning of psychotic. He denied that the patterns you see on LSD are hallucinations. The argument became increasingly energetic. Others joined in to try to define the word hallucination. My husband got our nephew to agree that if you saw a talking cow, it would be a hallucination. Unless there really was a talking cow in the room, then no.

The nephew’s adorable girlfriend gave an improvised performance of an acid-induced anxiety attack brought on by needing to pee. Her body language was perfect. It reminded me how grateful I am to not be tripping.

Now we started to argue about using the word ‘read’ as a noun. I find it unbearable. Don’t ask “Is it a good read?” when you mean “Is it a good book?” or “Is it a good essay?” Our nephew strenuously defended this usage, just to be annoying, but complained about using ‘gift’ as a verb. Voices were raised and dictionaries consulted. The word ‘curator’ turned out to mean something so broad that if you buy into the Merriam-Webster definition, you can rightly call yourself a curator of anything you’re in charge of, like nail polish or goldfish. Fuck that. I need the OED definition, or something else that I can agree with.

The guests stayed until around 2 a.m., but I couldn’t help feeling that somehow I had failed miserably as a hostess. But maybe tormenting people is preferable to boring them? I don’t know. However, that’s been my assumption and operating procedure for as long as I can remember, and I’m too old to change.

Posted in Art, Disorders, Words | 14 Comments

The Problem with Living

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Sister Wolf

On Thursday it will be three years. I never expected to still be around. Time doesn’t heal all wounds but it changes your emotional terrain.

A couple of weeks ago, I considered living for the first time. I was experiencing a patch of happiness that felt like peace. Naturally, I had to question this. It made me feel guilty and shallow. I forgave myself the guilt and contemplated the prospect of living the remainder of my life as if it mattered. Living on purpose, not just because I can’t bear to hurt my husband.

It occurs to me now that this is what Max was contemplating. He wrote that he wanted to wake up in the morning and feel like living, not just to avoid hurting his loved ones, but as a choice for himself. He gave up hope that this could happen.

I feel more hope than I did when I was going around looking for someplace high enough to make a successful jump. I feel like I could conceivably find a purpose in life and make a commitment to seeing life through to it’s natural end.

But then I would have to worry about all the stuff that people worry about when they want to live. I’d have to worry about cancer instead of mocking those people on the Cancer Center commercials who want so badly to survive. I’d have to worry about my bad cholesterol, which is sky-high. I’d have to worry about dementia and social security and losing my hair or teeth.

I’m just not sure. I’ve been hovering between this world and the next, trying to cultivate a saving level of numbness. Love can break through, and it does. Maybe instead of jumping off a roof, I can jump into life. It’s a new idea. It’s somewhat threatening. But I plan to explore it.

Posted in grief | Tagged life and death, suicide, time | 30 Comments

Real-life Photoshop

Posted on May 30, 2013 by Sister Wolf

Here is a model named Jazzma who’s been hanging out with a billionaire whose longtime girlfriend is Naomi Campbell. I snickered at the deforming photoshopped picture of Jazzma, and googled to see what she really looks like.

Wow, right? Look at that midsection. It’s like she’s a LIVING photoshop creation!

If I could photoshop my body, I’d give myself big boobs and toned thighs, and I’d stay away from Naomi Campbell’s boyfriend.

What about you?

Posted in Celebrities, News | Tagged body image, models | 17 Comments

Sisters!

Posted on May 20, 2013 by Sister Wolf

I am truly blessed in the sister department. One of my sisters who lives in a Scandinavian country and who I will call “Clinique,” posted this on facebook:

[My daughter’s school-class is taking a trip to Poland and] will be visiting Auschwitz concentration camps. It should be an amazing, informative, and emotional trip.

I can’t even describe my reaction to this.

But I’ll focus on the word usage. When she writes ‘Auschwitz concentration camps’ does she mean, as opposed to the Auschwitz Bar and Grill or the Auschwitz Shopping Center?

Meanwhile,Tennis just sent a list of her services to the trust, which included a charge of $600 to prepare six checks.

Posted in Disorders, Words | Tagged morons, Nazis, sisters | 19 Comments

Whole Foods Adventure

Posted on May 15, 2013 by Sister Wolf

Whenever I walk to Whole Foods with friends, we have an adventure, and not just the one where tall thin women ram you with their shopping carts.

This time, it was a guy with an enormous didgeridoo. We had been drinking coffee, watching the circus that is Whole Foods, Venice. My friend asked the guy if he had made his didgeridoo, and he said Yes. He added that he used it for Sound Therapy.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I saw a documentary called Kumare, about an American-born Indian guy who decides to pose as a guru, to see if people will fall for it. Sure enough, everywhere he goes, people lap up his idiotic impersonation of a Mystic, exclaiming how they can feel his powerful energy, etc, etc. I found it depressing. People are so stupid. Or as my husband put it, more charitably, “People want someone to follow.”

Anyway, there is a Sound Healer in Kumare who uses a didgeridoo, and he looks alot like the guy at Whole Foods. “Were you in that Kumare movie?” I asked him accusingly. He seemed baffled and said no. He wanted me to sit down and let him demonstrate his therapy. He instructed me to focus on “an intention.” I asked him if he was going to find out what’s wrong with me, secretly thinking “If he only knew!”

A handsome Black man intervened cheerfully, “Why does there gotta be something wrong with you?” He was wearing a fedora and eating a cup of Whole Foods ice cream. He looked as contented as a human being could be. I didn’t want to spoil his mood by answering him.

The Sound Therapist started blowing into his didgeridoo, moving it slowly up and down my back. It felt great! I could feel the sound waves vibrating through my body and I pretended they were evacuating evil spirits. It was extremely pleasurable.

When he was through, he asked me if I had pain in my lower back, noting that he could sense this with the didgeridoo. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings so I told him that while I had pain everywhere, my lower back was a place that sometimes hurt.

The truth is, my lower back is probably one of the few places where I don’t feel pain. I don’t believe in any kind of New Age healing. I don’t believe in gurus, gods, angels, the I Ching, the Secret, Tarot Cards, reiki, colonics, or anything else.

Time doesn’t heal either, as we know. But coffee is wonderful and so is Whole Foods, if you don’t buy your groceries there.

Posted in Art, Disorders, Religion | Tagged Frauds, pain, Whole Foods | 19 Comments

The Last Meal

Posted on May 6, 2013 by Sister Wolf

I’m too old and sad to enjoy mocking death the way I used to. But Death Row trivia continues to fascinate me, even though it’s politically incorrect to express anything but outrage on the subject of the death penalty.

Photographer Henry Hargreaves has recreated the last meals requested by some notorious killers in a project called No Seconds. Looking at the photos, it’s hard not to form conclusions about each meal and the man who chose it. The meal above, for example, increased my disdain for John Wayne Gacy: “What a pig,” I thought.

Timothy McVeigh, on the other hand, limited himself to his favorite ice cream. Clearly, he was more focused and less self-indulgent.

Look at what Victor Feguer asked for. What a cunt. Or maybe he was being a smart-ass. I can’t decide. I ‘d like to have told him ‘No way, buddy. You’ll eat a pitted olive or nothing at all.’

My reactions probably say more about me than the meals say about the convicts. That’s why this is art.

Here’s more to think about:

In Louisiana, the prison warden traditionally joins the condemned prisoner for the last meal.

In September 2011, the state of Texas abolished all special last-meal requests after prisoner Lawrence Russell Brewer requested a huge last meal and didn’t eat any of it, saying he wasn’t hungry. His last-meal request was for two chicken-fried steaks with gravy; a triple-patty bacon cheeseburger; a cheese omelet with ground beef, tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, and jalapenos; a bowl of fried okra with ketchup; one pound of barbecued meat with half a loaf of white bread; three fajitas; a meat-lover’s pizza; one pint of Blue Bell Ice Cream; a slab of peanut-butter fudge with crushed peanuts; and three root beers. The abolition followed a complaint by Texas Senator John Whitmire, who called the meal “inappropriate.” (Thanks Lawrence Russell Brewer, for ruining things for everybody else!)

You can read more about last meals here. If I end up on Death Row, I plan to ask for a Fatburger with fat fries and a vanilla milkshake.

Feel free to place your order or rant about the death penalty.

Posted in Art, Horrible Stuff | Tagged Death Row, food | 17 Comments