Saturday, May 24, 2008

The Bald and the Beautiful

Nothing tugs at my heart strings as heavily as the plight of a balding woman.  Let's call our prototype Betty.

Female Pattern Baldness is one of the greater tragedies mankind has ever seen and a situation that I for one, feel severely compassionate toward.  Why? Well for starters, Balding Betty's male counterpart is much, much sexier than she, and can rock a Bic'd head any day of the week (and still make the people swoon).  Coupled with some fatigues that hug nicely around Bobby's Bob, an American Apparel T and a jazzy sneaker, we've got ourselves a winner in Balding Bob. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that Bob has it all over Ugly Betty, wouldn't you? Good. Now dry off your stool and keep reading.

Betty, are you all right honey?

Sure, Betty - your Theory dresses and your Christian Louboutin's might make you feel better temporarily, but at your core you continue to feel bitter, useless and depressed, as you should!  
Nothing makes me sadder than the idea of you looking disappointedly at your reflection night after night, swollen eyed and solemn. I FEEL FOR YOU B.

When you flip your five strands of used-to-be luscious locks from side to side to catch the wind of yesteryear, what you're really catching is "poor-unfortunate-soul" looks from passers-by, who don't even care about your fat, disproportionate ass anymore.  Boo. It used to look so good with hair I bet.

As you age Balding Betty and spend more and more time at your office, you'll realize that the little life you did have before your noggin needed SPF has dissipated into thin air, or into clumps on your designer pillowcase. Tear.

As you attempt and fail again to hang onto the remaining follicles of grease that lazily cling to your mal-shaped head in order to counterbalance your pock-marked skin, listen up.  ALL HOPE IS NOT LOST.  

There are a few options to brighten your day - not your sphere - your DAY! Get a hold of yourself - not your hair.  Ok, enough with the stab em while they're down one liners.

a) You could employ the assistance of a lady wig  - shit Beyonce rocks those better than 
     anybody don't she?

b) You could rock a GI JANE throwback (dyketastic), then you'll surely get railed by all the 
     boys you keep batting your eyelashes at like you're still nineteen and failing out of a college 
     far away from your sad suburban roots.

c) Or you can ROGAINE it. I know! I know it's so depressing.  It just sounds so COARSE. 
    Think about it though.  Nothing would make you happier than watching that hair sprout back     at Chia Pet speed I bet.

So you see Betty, everything is going to be fine!  You can still hang out with C list celebrities. You can still pretend that you have anything to offer the world at large. You can still resemble a woman even with your A cup ninnies and the imaginary pole lodged in your rectum!  

So go out there, and shake what your Momma gave ya because you ARE YOU and Mommy always told us that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Go get em' girl!

Xoxo.

Monday, May 5, 2008

The Subway Dancer

Today a little local girl no older than nine decided to dance on the subway pole like a stripper. And the weirdest part about it was that she knew.   She kept slapping her breastless chest and saying "look at my stuff."

At the risk of sounding like an unfortunate sicko, I'll stop here.  I just really can't help but think that she "knew" a little too much about dancing, like maybe her mommy was a dancer with really saggy girls and bologna curtains for weeks. 

Wait - now Tony from Dancing with the Stars is wearing Satin pajamas.  Did they have a shortage in costuming this week?

Anyway, I wish they would hire local subway dancers to be on this show.  This girl was good a la the cross eyed little girl in Union Square.  You know the one.  Her parents beat those buckets whilst she just shakes her shimmy and crosses her eyes.  She's a sight.

Ugly Mother Fucker of the Week


Well I had to choose a pussy this time. I'm sick of people telling me that Olivia looks like a burn victim from Hurricane Katrina.  She is much, MUCH more beautiful than this unfortunate.

Herbert

I named today's template after the late Uncle Herb.

HERBERT.

I love talking SHIT.

It is clear that I enjoy roasting on the couch after a long day at the office and watching horrible primetime television.  It is during these times that I so often ponder the life of the mediocre, and imagine all of the great creative things I should be doing.

I say this as I watch Kristi Yama-something spin around wearing a yellow pom pom on her head on Dancing with the Stars while her partner dances next to her in red satin pajamas.

That said, my new favorite horribly bad show is Gossip Girl.  Especially tonight's episode. 

I love that Blair is a huge raging vagina and that Penn Badgley's sister "J" was dating a homo who also happened to be dating Blake Lively's Brother "Faggot."

I mean. It was just classic.  And I love how liberal everyone was when "Faggot"came in and announced that he liked the carrot.  People barely even gasped.  If that momo had done that in my high school, he would have been knifed in his scrotum.  I'm just jealous.  Anyway, it was nice to see someone ugly with a bad sidepart get outed in like the worst way.

And what up with Serena killing someone? I mean the writing couldn't get any worse/PHENOMENAL.

xoxo,
The Cheap Imitation