Tag Archives: Taylor Swift

I Am A Green-Eyed Monster


So you all know that I’m a happy girl who loves everybody and is extremely self-confident, right? Boy, have I fooled the shit outta you.

I embody the first two qualities perfectly, yes. However, I will tell you something now that you might not know yet- I go through life with a Jealousy Monkey fucking me in the ass every single moment. That being said, it may come as no surprise when I tell you that the constant butt-drilling I get leads to Jealousy becoming my dominant personality trait.

One of the things that makes my jealousy acceptable is the fact that I do not begrudge people for whatever happiness they receive from whatever it is that makes me jealous of them. I am jealous of those in perfect relationships, but I would never wish them to NOT have a perfect relationship just because I don’t. They say Misery loves company; the truth is- I prefer solitude.

I will give you just a few examples of the things that I am jealous of:

I am jealous of Carrie Underwood and her perfect face and her perfect voice, and the fact that she gets endless commercial deals despite the fact that she has the inability to choose good songs to sing with her perfect voice.

I am jealous of my friend Delightful, and the fact that she possesses one of those tiny bodies that make you want to stick her in your back pocket. She also has amazing sparkly eyes that are not poop colored, like mine are.

I am jealous of the people that own Mustangs, because I haven’t one; and I am jealous of the fact that these people have the dollars to afford the Mustangs in the first place.

I am jealous that deceased celebrities such as Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston are talked about more than I am. Why can they not have the decency to share the fame they no longer need?

I am jealous of all the excessively talented pianists on Youtube who can play Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu, because no matter how much I try to practice it, my timing is off and my fingers do not carry enough dexterity and speed to play it properly.

I am jealous of Nicole Kidman and her porcelain white skin, because though I possess the exact paleness she does, I just look pasty and all my veins show.

I am jealous that  untalented writers such as Stephanie Meyer have become household names because they had the gall to write about such ridiculous things as sparkly vampires and werewolves falling in love with infants.

I am jealous of the fact that my Rockstar’s Daughter received cuddling so much more easily from my Rockstar than I ever will.

I am jealous of Taylor Swift and the fact that her unimaginitive choices of subject matter for her songs has made her rich enough to buy a castle if she so chooses.

I am jealous of the fact that my douchebag of a former boss gets to continue working in MY bookstore, despite the fact that he hates books, and hates customers, and ogles young women, and sexually harrasses his underlings, while I slave away as a Pizza Slut.

I get jealous of people flirting with other people when I am readily available to be flirted with. This one is a bit confusing, because yes, I get jealous of the girls who are getting flirted with by men I don’t even find attractive. It IS all about me, you know.

I am jealous of those people that go around being happy all the goddamn time. I try that and find it utterly exhausting.

I am jealous of people that live in all the places that aren’t here. Sadly, if I were to move to any of those places, I would probably be jealous of the people that remained here.

I am jealous of those women (and men) who have perfect straight hair that can just wake up, run a brush through their hair, and go about their day. The fact that they can run a brush through their hair without creating an afro irks me most of all.

I am jealous of the fact that no matter how good of a writer I become, I will never be able to write lyrics as excellently as the band Black Stone Cherry.

I am jealous of Chris Meloni’s wife, and the fact that she gets to booby squish him whenever she wants.

I am jealous of women with babies, and pregnant women, and babies, and little children that are still adorable and not evil spawn from Hell.

One of the things that you all can be jealous of, though, is the fact that I have awesome readers who actually want to read this shit. 😉 XOXO

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Beauty, Books, Children, Entertainment, Friendship, Humor, Life, Love, music, Uncategorized

Random Thoughts on Celebrities


Do you think Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman actually ever did It? After all, she is a foot taller than him…is it even possible?

Disney makes child actors grow into booby/panty- flashing adults. Britney, Lindsey, and Anne Hathaway are just a few examples.

Am I the only one who thinks Demi Moore looked better with a shaved head?

I totally understand why Uma Thurman divorced Ethan Hawke. He seems like a complete pussy, even when he’s playing a bad ass.

Audrey Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart should have made a movie together.

Do you think Angelina ever looks at Brad and thinks, “Gee, he’s just not as hot as Billy Bob.” ?

I believe Charlize Theron would still be stunning if she were completely bald.

Pierce Brosnan is not as pretty as he thinks he is.

I don’t care if every man ever thinks she’s hot- Megan Fox has fucked-up thumbs.

Would American Pie still have been a hit if they has used a meatloaf instead?

Ryan Phillipe fucked up.

Do actors ever get turned on when they are filming sex scenes?

What happened to Harrison Ford?

I would love to hang out with Quentin Tarantino. He is delightfully disturbed.

It’s fun to say Keanu Reeve’s first name three times fast.

I would like to wash my skivvies on Ryan Reynolds abs.

I wonder if Al Pacino suffer from Short Man Syndrome?

I think Taylor Swift is actually a Russian Spy intent on taking the world over.

I wonder if Chris Meloni would be flattered or terrified if he knew about me…

 

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It’s Best To Be Prepared: A Friday the 13th Special


Happy Friday the 13th, my Lovelys! I hope that you make it through the day without breaking any mirrors or having black cats cross your path. Being an individual who is always properly prepared for the unexpected (OK, that’s not exactly true, but I go with the flow quite well) I decided to compose a list of bad luck things that could possibly go wrong on this Friday the 13th. (Just so I’m not surprised in any way):

1.The wives and girlfriends of my former lovers could find out  about their significant others’ indiscrections and band together to come and Get me. (A gang of Scorned Women could be utterly terrifying.)

2. A zombie apocalypse could occur before I have had the chance to properly administer a boob-squish to Chris Meloni. (That would be bad luck for us both, I think.)

3. Darth Vadar could show up, saying, “Sparklebumps… I am your father.” Therefore confirming my suspicions of bastardization.

4. The IRS could find out about my newly opened checking account and make off with my $2.31.

5. Megan Fox and/or Salma Hayek could show up at my door with the intent of robbing me of my Rockstar. (He assures me if this was to happen, he wouldn’t go along with them, because they’re not real. I don’t believe him for a second.)

6. My boss Frenchie could fire me because he has decided my bossing him around is getting old. (Or that looking at my ass is getting old.)

7. I could go to jail for trying to bribe an officer with cleavage if I happen to get pulled over  for speeding while driving to work.

8. My new friend Delightfulness could find out that I am, in fact, a psychopath, and withdraw her friendship.

9. My blog followers could finally realize that I truly have no writing talent, and desist reading; therefore making my site stats drop dramatically (which they seem to be doing anyway) and bringing me to the realization that I shall have to abandon dreams of a writing career and settle for Pizza Sluttism for good.

10. I could get home tonight and NOT have mind-blowing sex with my Rockstar. (Highly likely since I work until after he goes to bed.)

11. The Skin Man, or other assorted creepers, could find out where I work now and begin stalking me again.

12. I could somehow bang my head and end up in a coma, where I would be unable to leave my hospital bed when I could hear my friends and family that have gathered around me crunching annoyingly on snack foods, awaiting my awakening.

13. My books could catch on fire from an electrical spark coming from the cord of my vibrator while it’s charging.

14. My Rockstar’s almost-model ex-wife could hunt him down and want him back, and he could realize he is still desperately in love with her and she is not, in fact, a “stupid cunt.” (His words.)

15. I could once again, find a puddle of piss in front of the urinal at work tonight when I’m cleaning. (Highly likely, since no one admitted to being the guilty party after yesterday’s rant.)

16. I could come home to find my Rockstar wearing nothing but my undies and a pair of my sparkly heels. (When I think about it, this might not be such a bad thing…)

17. Alien life-forms could suck me up in their beam and administer an anal probe. (I might be ok with this if they look like the aliens from Signs; but if they look like the aliens from Independence Day, I shall surely die of fright. *shudder*)

18. Jon Bon Jovi could come out with another album. (We’ve already had Van Halen come out with a new single this week. That’s bad luck enough.)

19. I could hear a Taylor Swift song on the radio. Or see her on a magazine.

20. McDonald’s could decide to change their French fries.

21. I could choke on Man Juice and perish after giving my Rockstar a blow job. (Highly unlikely, but possible, I suppose.)

Good Luck to you all. XOXO

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Sinner


Good Friday to you, my Lovelys! So for some reason yesterday- perhaps because I was bored of thinking of saucing and cheesing at work (which I am very excellent at, by the way) I began thinking of the Seven Deadly Sins. I was not raised Catholic; instead, I was raised to believe that no sin is worse than the next. This thinking is still a bit ludicrous, since I believe most people would agree with me that chopping someone’s head off and wearing their skin as an overcoat is bit more dispicable than screaming, “Fuck!” when you stub your toe on the toilet, but who am I to judge? So, this morning I looked up the “deadliest” sins, and was disturbed to see that according to some religions, I belong in all the circles of Hell. I have listed them here for you, (with the Latin terms as well, so you can all be a bit smarter today) and the ways in which I have committed these infractions:

Lust (luxuria): OK, I’m sure you are all thinking that I picked this one to go first, when in fact, it was the first one listed on the Wikipedia. So there. Dante’s definition of this sin was “excessive love of others”, which I admit I am guilty of, though not in a naked way. If we go with the Wikipedia definition- desiring a person outside of marriage– that’s another story. So I guess there’s nothing more to do than tell my Rockstar he’d better marry me to keep me from going to Hell, eh? Of course, there would still be the issue of Chris Meloni…

Gluttony (gula): Wasting of food, either through eating too much food, drink or drugs, misplaced desire for food for its taste, or not giving food to the needy -I assure you, there is no food or alcohol wastage going on in my presence. However, my misplaced desire for McDonald’s french fries may be a sin. My need is assuaged when I make sure to buy myself some, though, so that makes up for the sin, right?

Greed (avaritia): This was describe as wanting more things than a person needs. But at least I USE all my shoes…

Sloth (acedia) : This is one I’m not quite as guilty of. However, I’m quite sure that someone would find a problem with me vegging out in front of the TV watching Sex and the City for 6 hours after my work is done.

Wrath (ira): Inappropriate (not right) feelings of hatred, revenge or even denial– I believe my feelings of anger toward my ex-boss for getting firing are completely appropriate. I have no such explanation for Taylor Swift.

Envy (invidia): I must say, I do not hate people for what they have, because I have more. (Boobs, that is.)

Pride (superbia): Wikipedia’s definition of this was:  A desire to be important or attractive to others or excessive love of self. I’ve been told this is a mental disease known as histrionic personality disorder.  If I were in court, I believe I would be found “not guilty” by reason of mental disease or defect…

So there you have it. Since I have seen fit to confess my sins, that absolves me, doesn’t it?

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Slightly Less Creepy Search Terms


Just when I thought I’d never have any more search terms to write about, there happened to be enough to do a third installment. There are not as sick and twisted (mostly) but some are very funny:

Paint his toenails: OK, I know this isn’t that weird, but it IS a habit I believe every girlfriend should develop. If he won’t let you, do it while he’s sleeping.

Dear Santa, got treats: Yes, I do. However, I do not think my Rockstar would wish me to allow Santa to motorboat on my “treats”.

Blow dry asshole: I realize this is in reference to the post I did about my Rockstar’s strange grooming habit, but when you read it like this, it sounds like a strange and wonderful new super hero- “DA da da DAAA! It’s the Blow Dry Asshole! Be careful, Villians! He’s going to… blow dry you!” That one needs pictures..

Stephanie Meyer shame: I think this is a new phrase I should patent and give to anyone rude enough to write horrid books that make lots of moneys.

I’m really sorry to hear about your job termination: Yes, I was too. But I’m over it now. I wonder if their sales are down immensely yet…

Meloni sex: this could be the term I use when I’m imagining Chris during… oh, nevermind.

Sparkle teen model my fruits: I’m not quite sure what to say to this one. I don’t really want to know WHO’S fruits they are.

Has Taylor Swift lost her virginity: There’s no way to know for sure, but do you really think she’d be so angry at that Jonas boy otherwise?

Book road at rainbow’s end: this sounds like it could either be the next installment of Pirate’s of the Carribbean, or a perfect name for my used bookstore.

Tube porn babysex: of course I couldn’t end with at least ONE completely fucked up search term. To this, all I have to say is, “You sick fucker.”

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A P.S.A. for Taylor Swift Fans


The following is a public service announcement asking the world to stop the madness that is Taylor Swift fandom.

Taylor Swift should be applauded, for she is an insidious genius. She has taken her vocal range of six notes and applied it to a plethora of  obnoxious songs that appeal to teeny-boppers everywhere. Where would the world be without the aggravating sounds of Taylor informing us that she lost her virginity at Fifteen, while listening to Tim McGraw? I will tell you. We would be in a far superior musical place.

I entreat all readers to shut OFF their radios, until the radio stations quit playing You Belong With Me, because I hate to be the one to break it to you, Taylor, but you belong anywhere that is far from me, with a piece of duct tape over your mouth. The fact that you have deviously brainwashed all radio stations to play your songs incessently makes me cry Teardrops On My Guitar nightly.

Taylor’s exertions to deceive young girls that Today is a Fairytale makes her as guilty as Disney. I would like to here her explanation to the pre-teens who grow up and find that there is most likely NOT a white dress involved, instead, there is a good chance they will  be shopping for diapers in maternity clothes by the time they are 16 because they have looked up to her, and decided it’s ok to have sex at Fifteen because Taylor did. Shame on you, Taylor.

I believe we also should rid ourselves of the clusterfuck that is Taylor’s face. I don’t know about you, but every time I see her on a magazine cover, I think ,”There’s Another Picture To Burn.” To all you teenage boys obsessed I say: I’m sure you would be able to find a much lovelier face and body to masturbate to if you just LOOK AWAY!

No, I do not believe that we need to hear any more of Taylor’s Love Storys, because, let’s face it. The girl is 21. The only thing she has experienced is premature ejaculation and cookie crumbs in bed. If we must endure one more Story of Us– like song, I believe our brains will implode and people will be walking around with brain matter oozing out of their ears.

To the record label that so unwittingly unleashed the Taylor Beast, I have only one thing to say, “You Should’ve Said No.”

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