I Still Want to Be BFFs with Jennifer Lawrence
“I thought it was gonna be food. It’s just … words.”
I read this article a while back, right after awards season culminated with Jennifer Lawrence winning and tripping her way into our hearts forever.
The author argues that celebrities like Jennifer Lawrence and Mila Kunis are so popular because they “act just like average humans, but [don’t] look remotely like them.”
And while it’s true that these women are stunning and talented, some others would argue that it’s their job to be likable and the envy of every girl in America.
Still, if we didn’t simultaneously put celebrities on a pedestal and in the spotlight, whatever would be talk about over mimosas at brunch? They become our scapegoat, because the wild things they do or say (or in Anne Hathaway’s case, the breathless humblebrag she reps regularly) are fascinating — and 100% accessible.
It’s easy to judge and comment and criticize on every thing we see in today’s world, because there is no escape. I can tell you what outfit Kim Kardashian posted to Twitter today just as easy as I can report Rihanna’s last picture from Instagram — and I follow neither.
We’re in a culture of over-share, as well as one that feeds off constant streams of information. We’re inundated with “news” about these things, and what’s worse, the generation behind me truly believes these situations in their own lives are news-worthy and should be shared to the world at large.
Stars: They’re just like us because they pump their own gas! How thrilling. I’m guilty of it myself, and yet I find it so mind-numbing to see the same stories churned out from hundreds of media outlets daily.
I’ll get off my soapbox now, but I have to say what prompted me to even mention the article was the following quote: “You must be gorgeous but humble, smart but self-mocking, talented but awestruck by others with talent, young but wise beyond your years, perfect but anxious to admit your flaws to the world. And you’d better do it every second of every day.“
And while I still want to be the new BFF to complete a Jennifer-Mila trifecta, I wish them luck as they continue to be scrutinized in the public eye.
Witty in Fitty: Fart Attack
Last night’s episode of “Parks and Recreation” reminded me just how much I adore the swag-tastic Tom Haverford.
Let’s take a moment to see poor Jerry go into cardiac arrest — and Tom’s ridiculous reaction (skip to 9:21 in).
And then, there’s this:
Is it possible to marry a fictional character?
How “Jersey Shore” Changed My Life
Tonight is the premiere of the sixth and final season of MTV’s “Jersey Shore.” A show that defined many college nights (and drinking games, as a result), I’m sad to say farewell to my favorite guidos and guidettes. Are they ridiculous? Absolutely. But they’ve changed my life in so many ways:
Every house should have a duck phone: Snooki struggling with the duck phone in the first season remains one of my favorite moments from the years. I hear eBay has a nice selection.
FPC is the only way to be: Fist pump, Push up, Chapstick isn’t just a motto, it’s a way of life — and I much prefer it to Gym, Tan, Laundry (GTL). Who wants to do laundry when you can just slather on some sweet lip balm?
Hooking up with roommates is messy: Virtually every cast mate has been with the other, and the only result is massive drama. This isn’t surprising, so much as it is a car wreck you can’t stop watching.
Dissolved my love of leopard: Any appreciation I had for animal print quickly dissipated after seeing Snooki and crew completely wear out the trend. The poof is right up there too.
What REAL drunk and disorderly looks like: I grew up in Daytona, and I went to college … but nothing can quite prepare you for a drunk Deena on the loose (cuca out and all).
Expanded my vocabulary: Among many other words and phrases, I am now familiar with these JS-ims: grenade (ugly person, usually girl), smush (have sex), cuca (lady bits), gorilla juicehead (buff dude, without brains).
How to be the “the sweetest bitch you’ll ever meet”: It’s Sammi “Sweetheart” Giancola’s trademark line, but I didn’t get it until we were a few seasons in. She’s a whole new level of cray cray.
No relationship will ever be as f’ed up as Ron and Sam: Speaking of Sammi, her on-again, off-again relationship with Ronnie Ortiz-Magro goes down in history as the most tumultuous of all time. God help us if they ever have kids.
How to goof off at work: Summers at The Shore Store, a gelato shop and pizzeria simply provided endless hours for the cast to goof off. Hiding from the boss, dipping out for a drink, picking up strangers … I’m not even mad, really; I’m impressed.
This is only a small sampling of the life lessons these crazy people have provided. What are your favorite “Jersey Shore” moments?
Breaking News: Jessica Simpson Isn’t a Complete Idiot
In national headlines because it’s a slow week for the zombie apocalypse, Weight Watchers has signed Jessica Simpson as its next star to shape up.
According to a radio report I’m sure I heard correctly, J. Simps gained 70 pounds during her never-ending pregnancy. SEVEN-ZERO. Daughter Maxwell Drew Johnson weighed in at 9 lbs., 13 oz. — so she has quite the uphill battle to shed the rest.
The ever-astute Simpson posted on her Facebook page, “The cool thing about the program is that it focuses on healthy habits for the long-term (and I can still indulge in my guilty pleasures every now and then, too).”
Lucky for her, WW is reportedly offering $4 million to get back into shape — I’m no mathematician, but that’s more than $70K per pound left to lose. Turning Simpson’s get-fat-from-food fetish into a multimillion-dollar deal? Maybe she isn’t a total idiot after all.
You better work (after signing for millions).
For someone who infamously asked whether Chicken of the Sea was, in fact, chicken … I sure hope her Weight Watchers consultant can help her determine Points values.
My Five Most-Hated Commercials
I’m blessed with a sometimes-functioning DVR, so I typically don’t have to watch commercials. Aside from the Super Bowl, I don’t see the point in sitting through them.
But baseball season is here, and I’m watching a lot of live games — succumbing to the awfulness that is advertising 101. Here are the worst five I’ve seen lately:
5. Toast to the Douchebags
Solid marketing plan, Bud Light Platinum: Repurpose an already-stale product into a fresh bottle and put Kanye — King of the Douchebags — West’s “Runaway (Toast to the Douchebags)” as the backup track. I’ll drink to that.
4. Kit Kat Krunching Kraziness
My co-workers all know how much I loathe the sound of someone eating. The guy next to me managed to crunch his way through lasagna last week, and I nearly had a stroke. Enter this commercial … and a full-on lobotomy for one.
3. Kids’ Voices Are … Cute?
Set aside the fact that Subway constantly smells like baked turds. My ovaries shrink every time I hear a child speak, and this ad makes use of it with no explanation whatsoever. Children are best when silent — I’m looking at you, Kidz Bop.
2. Sarah McLachlan Somehow Makes Puppies Depressing
I’m an animal lover and have a much better chance of becoming a crazy dog lady than I do of becoming a mother. So why is it that Miss McLachlan has to overlay slow-motion pictures of abused animals and make me cry every damn time her commersh comes on? Save it for Lilith Fair, you wench.
1. Virgin Discusses Richard Branson’s Sexcapades
There’s no rhyme or reason to ever announce that a 61-year-old man is “here to service you.” Let’s not forget that he looks like he hasn’t showered or shaved since the ’80s. Gag me with a spoon.
Instead of being a complete stormy rain cloud of negativity, here’s one of my favorite ads of all time (NSFW-ish). Thanks to copyranter for the incredible find.
Which commercials make you cringe? Any I left out — let me know in the comments section below!
WO: Weekly Obsessions
This week has been pretty rough — like a same shit, different toilet kind of week. I am in serious need of a vacay. Lucky for me, I’m headed to San Francisco next week for play (oh, and work). Until I get to The City by the Bay, here’s what’ll keep me happy.
Mila Kunis: I’ve loved Mila since her spoiled Jackie days on “That 70’s Show.” Her roles in “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” and “Black Swan” were great, but 2011 has treated her best. She’s agreed to attend a military ball with a Marine, was fantastic in “Friends with Benefits” and she just told off a reporter on behalf of JT — in Russian —удивительный (or, awesome!)
My Scrabble Ring: Arguably the best $5 I’ve ever spent, I absolutely adore the Scrabble ring I purchased from robotsnappingturtle on Etsy. It’s simple, sweet and it showcases my word-nerdiness … many thanks to Rachel for the find!
The Triumphant Return of “Jersey Shore”: Viva Italia! I know we’re still a day away from the premiere, but I can already guarantee that the guidos and guidettes will provide endless entertainment this season. Putting a bunch of Italian-Americans in a foreign country = let the clusterfuck begin.
All Things Football: The lockout is over, and America has been celebrating for a week straight. From a local strip club’s marquee (“Our girls won’t lock out NFL players”) to “The League” having something to film this season to the fantasy draft I just calendared, it’s about time the frenzy began. Let’s. Do. This.
Hope your week is swell, mothatruckas!
Bands I Love: Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
My iPod has been pissing me off lately — from its defunct headphones to periodic skipping to ripped case — but luckily, a little songstress and her crew have kept me from throwing MC Hammer against the wall.*
Grace Potter was recently on “Chelsea Lately,” so I Googled her stuff (natch) and fell in love. You may be familiar with “Paris,” as it’s appeared on a few TV spots here and there.
Seriously, if this song doesn’t get your blood pumping, check your pulse.
Some other singles to check out:
She’s got so much talent that I kind of want to hate her for being stunningly beautiful too. But alas, she’s super sweet with just a bit of bite.
Easy, breezy and all too cool — her sound is made even more interesting when you hear of her upbringing in New England on a family-owned compound.
Welcome to Potterville, population: you.
*I name all of my devices. I don’t want to throw the king of harem pants, nor do I have the physical prowess to do so.
WO: Weekly Obsessions
This week has already been positively cray cray, and it only promises to get more hectic. Here’s what I’ve been perusing to keep myself in check:
Maxi Dresses: Easy and breezy, I’m all about this still-happenin’ style. Paired with sandals and a cardigan, they’re office-appropriate. Ditch the sweater and shoes for a statement necklace and wedges to stand out at night.
This Damn Song: After appearing in a few commercials (and my head for the past 28 hours), I can confidently say that I still adore “Young Blood” by The Naked and Famous. It’s catchy and so stinkin’ cute.
Ladybug Push Pins: I got these for my desk a while back, and they still bring a smile to my face each day. Yes, I work in a cubicle. No, I am not confined to these walls. A memo or sticky note is just so much more pleasant when secured with ‘em.
Moustaches: After celebrating my roomie’s birthday with a full-on ‘Stache Bash, I’ve acquired quite the collection of upper-lip art. From those Urban bandages to this corkscrew (available at Target for $10), funny facial hair is a new fave. I just need to find my very own Wooly Willy.
Hope you and yours are having a splendid week!
All that Glitters
Even though I’m a beer- and sports-obsessed chick, I still have my moments of girlishness where I freak over sparkly things. Yes, glitter is the herpes of craft supplies. But, it makes everything so pretty. Imagine my delight when I found these:
Wish I had $94 lying around for this guy.
These mini cuppycakes look almost too good to eat. Almost.
If you know me, you know I can’t resist a one-shoulder piece.
Add shimmer to your eyes for instant drama.
I just saw “Mamma Mia!” live, and I am in love with this Dancing Queen Bolero.
In the words of the great lyricist Lil’ Weezy, “Get your shine on.” Just refrain from overdoing it … only GaGa can pull off head-to-toe glitter.
And for the love of God, do not come in contact with this “Glitter.” Yikes, bikes.
When Summer’s a Bummer
Between this summer’s relentless rain and suffocating humidity, my face melts off daily and I’m in a piss-poor mood. What’s a girl to do? Stick head in freezer, sit in front of fan and crank up these tunes. Presenting Wittyburg’s Summer Playlist:
- Big Pimpin’, Jay Z. Let’s get this started with a bang and ri-i-i-i-i-ide.
- Cruel Summer, Ace of Base or Bananarama. I prefer the AoB version, but whichever tickles your pickle will be just fine.
- Margaritaville, Jimmy Buffett. Classic, classic, classic. Best enjoyed on the rocks with salt.
- Summertime, Kenny Chesney. Any song that mentions bare feet, bikinis and Yoo-hoo is a winner in my book.
- All of the Lights, Kanye West. From the sick thumping beat to Kanye’s classic way with words, this is my latest iPod fave for summer workouts.
- Boys of Summer, Don Henley or The Ataris. I love both versions and will happily raise a glass to these boiz.
- Summertime, Sublime. The livin’s easy in LBC (Long Beach County), and the boys of Sublime are just too cool.
- Tonight, Tonight, Hot Chelle Rae. I can’t get enough of this upbeat hook and melody. Currently obsessed!
- Summer Girl, Jessica Andrews. Her bumper sticker reads, “Drink till he’s cute.” Hello, life motto.
- Hot in Herre, Nelly. You can put a Band-Aid on my face anytime, Cornell Haynes, Jr.
- Summer Nights, Rascal Flatts. I may or not be biased with the Daytona reference … but it’s still a great tune.
- Summer of ’69, Bryan Adams. It’s the quintessential light-rock song that you know every (fifth) word to.
- American Honey, Lady Antebellum. Sickly sweet lyrics and a heavenly voice make it a go-to.
- Summer Girls, LFO. Those Lyte Funky Ones sure know how to drop a rhyme. Bonus points if you like ruby-red slippers and a bunch of trees; the great Larry Bird, jersey 33.
- Steal My Sunshine, Len. The video was filmed in Daytona (biased again), but the beat is more infectious than Herpes Simplex I.
- Blister in the Sun, Violent Femmes. Heard at every bar all summer long, you can’t argue with this classic. Now, what the lyrics are about … well, that’s debatable.
What songs keep your summer spirits up? Am I missing any that are must-haves when temperatures rise?