Monday, October 29, 2012

Sandy is a stupid name for a hurricane

WTF kind of name is Sandy? Wasn't that the name of the character that Olivia Newton John portrayed in Grease?

Why would you name a hurricane after her? She couldn't even tell that John Travolta was gay!

I seriously hated Grease. It tops my List of Worst Musicals Ever. Well actually, it is tied with Annie. But if American Girl ever makes Julie: The Musical that one will push them both off the List.

Anyway, I'm here to tell you that Sandy is a lame-ass name for the storm to end all storms, the storm-apocalypse, the Frankenstormaggedon of all times. Damn it, this storm is meant to contribute to the fulfillment of the Mayan prophecy of the end of days in 2012 along with the earthquake in Canada, those tsunami warnings in Hawaii, and Yoko Ono's latest album release. And they called this thing SANDY?

FFS. They could have at least called it Jess in honor of its scarifying natural wrathfulness.

Whatever. I just want you people to know that even though you piss me off on a regular basis, I've got your backs. Someone needs to step up and protect you lot from the horrors of Sandy. So fear not: I've sent Godzilla to the eastern seaboard. He'll be coordinating search and rescue operations.

Yeah. Now that American Girl is selling Licorice again, I expect you people to feed him well.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

"Insecurity is as cruel as the grave."

Yeah, that's what Nicki Minaj said related to her feud with Mariah Carey. Right after she threatened to shoot Mariah.

My, my my, this shit is gettin' REAL, people. I'm concerned.

See, Mariah is a charter member of my List. No one else has dibs and only I can take her out.

So back off Nicki, go pick on someone your own size. Judging by your emaciated status and abnormally chiseled facial bones, that would probably be one of those scary-ass Sybarite dolls.

OMG, that picture of red hot Nicki and Mariah?  Every time I look at it, I feel the urge to deflate all four of their boobs with a sequined red thumbtack.  But hey, we all know that the spilling-over boobage look sells. Let's face facts:  even little girls in AG's target market want dolly d├ęcolletage. They sure as hell don't want a sports bra for their flat-chested dolls. WTF, sports bra: 

No self-respecting pre-teen girl wants to look like that!  My American Girl, my muslin ass. Come on AG, market some inflatable boobs to slip down in there and sell them for $28 a pair. Imma tell you what, they'll fly off the shelves.

Yeah, maybe someday. Don't hold your breath waiting, though. After all, it took American Girl five long years to finally step up and emulate my own trademark fashion-forward look:

 Yeah. You know you want it.