Miley Cyrus Mom Wars, RIP Agamemnon, and Please Vote For Me

There is no overlying theme of this blog post, really. Just things I need to blather on about, as I sit here engorging on my salad and informing my family about how yummy the sprouts are in it, which I realize is just more proof I’m becoming a California hippy.

Before I punch myself in the face, here goes with the blathering.

Miley Cyrus Mom Wars

Everyone is yap, yap, yapping about Miley Cyrus at the VMAs last night. First, the teddy bear thing was horrifying. Not only did she walk out of the big bear’s vagina, but then she went on to dry hump the other bears, dance with them, and so on. It was really awful, and quite frankly: I didn’t get it.

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Then the foam finger and her supposed-twerking. To begin: twerking is not just rubbing your ass up against Thicke-the-one-hit-wonder. To continue: the penis foam finger suggestive rubbing thing and pretending it was a penis … just gross. GROSS. GROSS. NASTY GROSS.

Last: the tongue. If I were to write Miley Cyrus a letter, it would go something like this:

Dear Miley –

Your tongue is fucking nasty. No one wants to see that shit.

Sincerely – Horrified Viewer

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It would be inaccurate to call me a viewer, though, because really I don’t give a fuck about that broad.

Here is the last thing I have to say on the subject though before getting onto why I call this the “Miley Cyrus Mom Wars”: I bet dollars to donuts that dumb bitch knows exactly what she is doing. Look at all the attention she’s gotten in the last 24 hours since she dry-humped a foam finger on stage?! This is where media blitzes are at now: in the negative attention.

If you don’t believe me, just ask Linsay Lohan and Amanda Bynes.

Now why this is really a mom war, though – like the breastfeeding and the homebirthing and all the other crap mothers fucking fight about to no end now – is because of all the aftermath. Today on Facebook, I read no less than SEVEN status updates about whether or not good parents allow their children to see Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana as a “role model.”

Ok, so let’s not beat around Miley’s fake foam dick, here. It is true. In this day and age, people should not rely on celebrities and sports players to be role models for their children. We should be models for our children. True. True. True. BUT, there are a lot of horse’s ass parents out there. For every good parent, there’s like 20 guys owing back child support and moms taking slutty photos to post on Facebook while their kid is drowning in the bathtub. Kids need to look up to someone if their parents are trashy and tawdry, right? Beyond that, as kids grow older they don’t relate to their parents as well, and seeing mom as a role model becomes more of a challenge. People are not BAD PARENTS for recognizing those problems and looking to other positive role models in their community or popular culture. It’s OK for kids to want to look up to celebrities – dare I say it’s natural at a certain point – and there is nothing wrong with us expecting celebrities to act according to the responsibility of such a public life.

RIP Agamemnon

Our guinea pig died yesterday. It was really sad and all of our hearts are broken. We aren’t entirely sure what happened, but it’s pretty clear that either he accidentally ingested something toxic to his little body (unlikely – we keep a pretty close eye on him); or, he had a tumor that went unnoticed.

If there is one lesson Miley Cyrus could learn from Agamemnon, it’s this: keep your dry-humping of inanimate objects to private time only. Agamemnon of course never went after any foam fingers or one hit wonders (and yes, I would classify Robin Thicke as an inanimate object, because that guy clearly has nothing going on in his head), but his girlfriend Helen the stuffed hedgehog was quite used to Aggie’s private hump time, which he reserved for when he thought no one was looking.

We will miss you, Agamemnon!

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Please Vote For Me

This last point doesn’t have anything to do with dry-humping, unless of course you get overly excited by watching the trailers for any of the steamy romance novels my book is going up against.

I entered my book trailer into a video contest on YouGottaRead.com a few months ago, and was finally included in the August contest. The voting is open until tomorrow (August 27th), and I would think it just splendid if you would click on the link and head over to cast your vote. Otherwise Spunk, A Fable (about Amazon Women taking over the world and murdering men after using them for procreation) will beat me.

So the morals of this blog post were: don’t be a whore, avoid dry-humping foam #1 fingers, Robin Thicke is a one-hit wonder, stop judging other parents, hug your guinea pig while you can, and vote for me, not Spunk, a Fable.

Vote Here!!!

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STFU Fridays: It Ain’t No Harlem Shake

The Harlem Shake: another cultural phenomena that makes any of us with an IQ over that of a banana cringe. It’s another Gangham Style, or series of photos where people plank in weird places. It’s stupid. It’s pointless. It reeks of a culture that is easily entertained and entirely moronic.

And what’s really fun about this one is that it’s disrespectful.

A born and raised Chicagoan, I am familiar with the closeness and affection for dance a city can have. In Chicago, Blues and Jazz gave rise to an entire culture of movement in dance that – I believe – continues today. Quite frankly, it’s beautiful; and while not all people can dance well, growing up near a city such as that taught me that an expression such as dancing (done well or not) can bring people together, even in the starkest of circumstances.

I’m sure without even watching the video, then – “Harlem Reacts to the Harlem Shake” – you faithful blog followers can imagine the response from Harlem.

The Harlem Shake is an actual dance,

and it does not involve dry humping

… the air, each other, or a canon. Yes, this morning when YouTubing this new dance phenomena, I found one that started where a guy in his underpants, wearing a mask, was simply dry humping a statue of a canon. Tasteful, indeed.

So the Harlem Shake is an actual hip hop dance; and an old one, at that. It does not involve dry humping the air. It does not involve dry humping anything – it involves an actual shake. There is an actual method to it too – so much so that instructional videos have been made on how to do it. You don’t just shake and hump and strip to near-nothing. It used to be called the albee (after the guy that invented it), but was renamed the Harlem Shake, and has been featured in music videos, as well as high profile hip hop clubs.

In other words: it’s legit.

The Harlem Shake Internet meme where large groups of complete morons imitate having anal sex with each other, as well as hump the air while making a slapping motion, is not, and never will be, a version of the dance.

You people are stupider than we all thought you were

if you find that entertaining

With Gangham Style, I did (sort of) get the appeal. There was a method to the dance. The video was entertaining in a “what in God’s name is going on here” way. I do believe the whole thing was (and remains to be) dumb, and that Psy guy – well he is quite a piece of work, in his mink coat and fancy eye makeup. But I still got it.

This Harlem Shake thing, though, is a totally different ballgame. It’s like planking was – stupid, pointless, not unique by any stretch of the imagination, and in some cases dangerous. There is nothing unique about people dry humping the air and just shaking like morons. There is not a thing fascinating about people stripping down to near-nothing in large groups (as they do in the majority of the videos I’ve seen).

There has to be a lot missing upstairs for someone to find this so-called dance truly entertaining. Sanity, decency, respect, and intelligence are among those things.

The question we should all ask ourselves…

Whenever an Internet fad comes up like this, I always ask myself “would I do that in front of a group of people.” Or more specifically when it comes to this so-called Harlem Shake – would I do that in front of a group of people in Harlem?

Shit no. Shit no I would not.

I wouldn’t dream of doing that in front of a group of people in Harlem, and I especially wouldn’t dare call it the Harlem Shake. Now personally, I have never been to Harlem. But I have been to places like it, and it isn’t often that – in places like Harlem – I have seen a bunch of stupid white people dry humping the air to weird, new age techno music. Yeah … no. I just haven’t, and I wouldn’t do it.

The same went for planking, Gangham Style, owling, fridging … all of it. All of the idiotic Internet fads that seem to prevail in our ever-devalued popular culture. I wouldn’t do any of them in front of a large group of people.

Clearly there are those that would, but I am just not one of them. Maybe you would. Maybe you would strip down to your tighty-whiteys and throw on a mask. Do the stupid intro where one person softly humps the air, inspiring gads of people to show up and then violently do the same. Slap the air as if there is an actual woman there being slapped. You enjoy your dry hump to tacky techno music. STFU when it comes to the name of it, though. It may be a tacky, crappy dance fad. But it ain’t no Harlem Shake, that’s for sure.

STFU Fridays: JerkMom, One-Uppers, Pinterest Users, Contemporary Ballers

Have you “liked” my blog on Facebook yet? No? Shame on you… Well, here’s something you can really do for me – click the link for Top Mommy Blogs dot com to register a vote for my site as one of the best. Thanks!!

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I have a new, weekly theme on my blog. It’s called “Shut the Fuck Up Fridays.” Quite bluntly put, there are a lot of people in this world that really just need to STFU. But they never do because no one seems to have the balls to tell them so. People are so worried about having positive vibes and not offending anyone that it’s like we’ve let stupidity and asshattedness run rampant for the sake of everyone feeling good.

One of my favorite philosophers – Søren Kierkegaard – said that his mission in life was to make things more difficult for people by telling them the way things are – even if they did not want to hear it. Just under 200 years later, I’d say this was his way of telling people to STFU.

For this, the first installation of Shut the Fuck Up Fridays, we’re taking on JerkMom, One-Uppers, Pinterest Users, and Contemporary Ballers. And I’ve brought along my friend Angry Schoolboy to help.

JerkMom

Yesterday I went to lunch with my dad. We were planning on going to a locally owned place by the airport, but it had a one hour wait with tons of booths open. So screwing that place, we moved on to the closest spot – another trip to Johnny Rockets.

We sat outside and were enjoying our meal when all of a sudden this horribly pretentious-looking woman with nostrils so large I could be inhaled into them came up to the host with her old hag of a mother (similarly as pretentious-looking as she) and her kid in a stroller. There was a sign that said no strollers and she said “can you make an exception on this ‘no stroller’ thing for us?”

Really bitch? Angry Schoolboy has something to say to you:

 

One-Uppers

Have you ever had a conversation with someone that constantly has to one-up you? The first inherent sign of this person is that they constantly “know” or “have experience” with everything you are talking about. I was in a relationship once with a one-upper and I called him on his shit by making up a fact about the US dollar bill and saying “did you know that …” and he said he knew; to which I (of course) had to tell him I had made the whole thing up to prove he’s a dick. The relationship didn’t last long after that.

Recently I’ve come in contact with a lot of one-uppers; the most notable of which responded to every story I told with “Oh yeah? Well I’ve got a story that can top that.”

You don’t say? You have a story that can top mine in every single thing that I do, experience, think, or feel? Angry Schoolboy has something to say to you too:

Pinterest Users

Yesterday I posted a blog about how Pinterest and Instagram have ruined my life, by virtue of making everything I cook or do have to be an event worthy of photographing. I included photographs of things I had cooked, quite obviously to illustrate my point. Then – in a moment of true hypocrisy – I pinned the blog post to my Pinterest board set up for my blog, with a clear title and description of the blog included.

I got quite a few click-throughs, none of whom enjoyed my blog. In fact, they apparently didn’t even read the title or description on the pin because they were expecting a recipe.

I don’t understand, where is the recipe for that cake?

Cute blog, although you could get the point across with less bad words. Are you going to post the recipe for those BLT bites at some point?

LOL on me for thinking you actually posted something on Pinterest that Pinterest is for.

Can you at least include links to the cake recipe next time?

Came for the cake recipe. Left because you have an attitude problem.

Oh, Pinterest users. Oh, silly, silly, closed-minded Pinterest users. Angry Schoolboy has something to say to you:

Contemporary Ballers

This morning I saw on Fabulous and Flawed’s Facebook page an eCard about people that use the term “swag.” I wholeheartedly agree – the majority of the time that I see a person use the term “swag” or it’s derivative “swag life” I cringe.

What the fuck does swag even mean now? When I worked in politics that was the term we used to refer to political buttons and t-shirts; although, I am almost certain that popular culture has completely redefined it, like they did with “epic.” Now I see people using the term everywhere. “I’m so swag.” “Got my swagger.” “Kickin’ it on the roof #swag #swaglife.” Do the people using this term – I can only assume inappropriately or out of its original context – realize how stupid they sound?

If I am way off base and it makes sense or actually means something, well then my bad. If I am correct though, Angry Schoolboy has something to say to these contemporary ballers:

 

The Kardashians

Am I the only person on the planet that isn’t a fan of the Kardashians?  I mean, it’s cool to say they’re overindulgent whorelets and all … but in the end, most of the people that claim to hate them watch more of their shows than anyone else.  When I say “not a fan,” I mean really not a fan.

I’m not entirely sure why I don’t like them (except of the fact that I don’t really like many people … or things ……).  They are just typical Californians:  self-indulgent, promiscuous, loose-moralled, foul-mouthed, and obsessed with being as trendy as possible.

Possibly it’s because about a year ago we sat behind them at a Lakers game and I got the real inside scoop (so to speak) of their regular activities.  I’m not a Laker fan, in fact I hate them (BULLS!); so obviously I was more interested in what was going on around us than the actual game.  While Khloe seemed more devoted to her man than hob-knobbing like her mom was, I think that all of them put their phones away for all of thirty seconds on the entire game clock.  Having never watched their shows, I was also pretty surprised to learn that Kris is super nosy in the matters of her adult children’s lives – every time one was texting or Facebooking, she was (literally) leaning over their shoulders reading what was being said.  The only thing that really reeked through the entire experience, which might have lead to my general dislike of them, was that Khloe kept brushing her nappy, dandruffy hair at me (we were sitting directly behind them in small folding chairs).  At one point some of her hair wound up in my nachos.

And have any of you ever heard that retarded song Kim did on auto-tune?  It’s astonishing how horribly that girl sings, and auto-tune did little to help it.  Probably this has a big part in my general disdain for the family of excess; although, not for the reason you’d think.  I don’t care all that much that another crappy song was released .. this happens every day.  What I care about is that these girls have become so insanely popular that even their crappy songs are inspiring massive levels of stupidity, like these broads (who have made their own music video to Jam (Turn It Up)):

I also wonder if it has anything to do with just how much the three sisters (Khloe, Kourtney, and Kim) are plastered all over the place.  On billboards in LA, on magazines in the grocery store, everywhere on TV, all over my Google News even.  I can’t even go to the mall without being forced to look at the ads for their ridiculous new underwear line at Sears.  (And the thing that shocks me about that is the fact that Sears is so below their typical fashion senses.)  They are just everywhere:  but why?

I still cannot even really figure out what these people have done to be as famous as they are.  It’s as though they are famous just because they were famous; or famous for being so famous.  In any event, I don’t care about Kim’s wedding footage on E!, just as I could give two shits about who is having a baby and what that poor child of Kourtney and Scott is up to.  You have to really question what is with our culture that we obsess over the lives of people that have absolutely no idea any of us exist.

But then I could just be doing the cool thing … hating on the Kardashians while secretly waiting for the show to come on…