- Courtney Stodden not only exists, but is frequently in the news for wearing stripper heels to the grocery store.
- Though we have a huge problem with poverty and unemployment, the current political discussion in the US is focused around chicken and magic vaginas.
- Everyone’s got their knickers in a bunch about this being a Christian nation, but there’s a Mormon running for office (Mormons don’t believe in the holy trinity or hell and there’s this whole thing about three heavens but I got bored reading about it). I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t believe in coffee.
- High fructose corn syrup.
- Miley Cyrus got a haircut. Are we really supposed to give a shit? There are bigger problems in the world, people. She’s a 19-year-old who had a TV show on Nickelodeon. Prioritize.
- Nobody smokes at concerts anymore.
- Honey Boo Boo is a reality show. I’m not completely sure what it’s about, but I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the apocalypse.
- American Girl dolls—seriously, I don’t get it. That shit is creepy. I really, really hope my daughter doesn’t get into those.
- We’re still talking about Kim Kardashian’s divorce.
Happy birthday, Leo! You always think everything is all about you, and today it actually is. Good for you, you narcissistic queen!
Surprise! It’s your OCD intervention today. Your friends and family will arrive in about an hour, so you better get to work dusting the top of your refrigerator!
Today you’ll realize that the screenplay you’ve been working on for the past eight years is a festering turd.
That girl at the coffee shop you’ve been flirting with will ask for your number today. If you give it to her, she’ll eventually smother you to death with a pillow while you’re sleeping.
Your life-long fear of clowns will be validated today when a clown stabs you in the shoulder with a rusted cheese knife. Congratulations!
You’re going to eat something really off at lunch. That hot date you have planned tonight is going to be ruined by a case of the back-door trots. And yeah, he is Mr. Perfect. Too bad he’s going to meet a prettier girl while you’re in the bathroom.
You’ve been nothing but a jerk since 1987, and it hasn’t caught up to you yet. Today is no exception, my friend. You’re going to be undercharged at Starbucks, and it’s uphill all day from there. Somehow, you just keep giving karma the middle finger. Way to go.
Stop whining and get the prescription. And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.
You’ll be served with divorce papers around noon, so go ahead and cancel the romantic weekend you have planned for your wife. Oops. Should I have said ‘spoiler alert’?
The ass indention you’ve made in the couch will become self-aware today and learn to operate the remote control. At first you’ll fight over what to watch, but you’ll eventually become best friends.
Your personal ad will finally be answered by someone super-dreamy today. And by super-dreamy, I mean straight-up nightmarish. Take down that damn personal ad before generation X’s answer to Ed Gein shows up on your doorstep with a bouquet of tulips and a pattern for a skin suit.
Everyone knows you’re sensitive, so today your friends will take turns making you cry in public. Happy Friday, you big pansy!
I’ve been known to plan a few weddings in my life, both as a job and one or two for personal use. During my time as a wedding expert, I became well-versed in the area of superstition. Please allow me to share my knowledge.
We all know that the bride-to-be is meant to avoid cutting ribbons while opening presents at the wedding shower. The number of ribbons cut supposedly represents the number of babies born during the marriage. Some brides avoid those ribbons like the bubonic plague, while others hack away at those little bastards with fertile glee. But come on, this is ridiculous. No one over got pregnant from cutting a ribbon. What actually happens is an evil spirit is released and sent directly into the brain of the bride elect every time a ribbon is cut. The spirit causes the bride to adopt bad habits immediately upon getting married. The more ribbons cut, the more vices she’ll have. Bon appe’boozing!
Every bride-to-be worth her purity worries about her groom seeing the dress before the big day. And for good reason! The last reported case of a groom seeing the wedding dress occurred in Beaver Crossing, Nebraska in 2003. The groom was a bit of a jackass and thought it would be hilarious to show his poor future wife that it was no big deal. Well, she turned into a sea monster. Since Nebraska is inland, she dehydrated like turkey jerky. Not so funny now, is it?
It’s believed to be unlucky if the couple doesn’t share a slice of wedding cake. This is rooted in the 1950’s when there used to be Valium chopped up in the frosting. The newly married couple was actually toasting with pills. It’s an antiquated tradition since we’ve all become squares, daddio.
Another cake related tradition: if a single girl puts her share under of cake under her pillow, she’ll see her future husband. Spoiler alert: her husband is a cockroach.
The most unlucky of all is if the bride and groom see each other the day of the wedding before the ceremony. This goes way back to the old days when a woman’s consent was unnecessary for a wedding to occur. If she saw the groom, she just might hurl herself off the cathedral’s roof before her father collected the goats and bag of coins for her virginal flesh. The consequences have adapted with the times (evolution is a beautiful process) and now if you see each other before the ceremony, one of you will die of dysentery before your tenth anniversary. No big deal, really.
The past few weeks I’ve felt chaotic to the point that I started to consider professional help. A psychic, not a shrink. I’m not prepared for the level of commitment a therapist would require. I learned yesterday (thank you, Kathy) that my irrational behavior and the sensation that a gazillion thoughts are going to make my brain explode and leave little bits of skull all over the place can be attributed to the fact that Mercury is in retrograde. I’m not losing my shit, you guys! This is fabulous news. In case you don’t know what this means, please allow me to explain.
The planet Mercury occasionally gets too big for its britches and decides to go so ridiculously slow, it appears to be going backward. “Look at me, I’m so special I don’t have to do what the other planets are doing…blah, blah…” This throws the entire universe off kilter. Energy is a sensitive beast, after all.
Well, before Mercury was a planet he was the Roman god of commerce. In some depictions he carried a purse, supposedly because he was a businessman. It was a purse, Tinky Winky. I think we all know where this is going: straight to mutha-flippin’ Chick-Fil-A! Mercury got his knickers in a twist and did something “inappropriate” at America’s third favorite chicken shop and then that man named Cathy said some things and now nobody but Fundies can eat cheap chicken sandwiches with waffle fries.
Mercury was also the god of sleep and dreams. Lots of us have suffered from insomnia lately. Why aren’t we conducting all night domino-tournaments? That’s better than lying awake trying to choose between world-domination or rehab. Let’s plan ahead for Mercury’s next hissy-fit, y’all. I’ll bring the big gay purse full of chicken!
Mercury was also the god of pranksters. So, basically he’s a bit of an asshole. That’s why he’s messing with each and every one of us right now. Are things just not making sense? Are your children taunting you to the point that you’ve considering joining the Merchant Marines but you’re not sure if that’s even a real thing? Have you considered using your creative energy to sew all the sheets in the house together because it would be really cool to have a giant sheet (you could drape it over your house and the neighbors would wonder if you had ET in there) but you sold your sewing machine fifteen years ago when that silver dress you made looked like something Courtney Love would have rejected for being too shabby? Calm down, sweetie. It’s not your fault. Blame Mercury. That prick.