Let’s get things started here on the right, pedicured foot, shall we? It’s important that we be in agreement that Paris Whatsherface* is against most things that Nice Ladies Everywhere hold dear, with the possible exception of our mutual affection for highlights. *Yes, I should have moved past loathing
In any event, it has come to this blog’s attention that Ms. SkankyPants (SkankyNoPants?SkankyInvisibleSkirt?) has yet another reality tv show in the works, in which the ever-so-fortunate guests compete for the ho . . . ho . . . I just can’t get “honor” out, and the surely the former is more instructive here . . . of being
While I am not necessarily in the market for new best friends, being fortunate enough to have a few lovely ones already, I have recently relocated to Austin and found myself in need of girlfriends. After all, I need to learn where to go to maintain (1) said highlights; (2) my wine –to-body fat ratio. NBC seems unenthused about my concept, so I’ve taken to the web in my quest to defeat She Who Cannot Be Named at her own game. I propose the following reasons why you should join me:
1) I bring a great love of all things 80s / early 90s to the table. While SkankyPants might actually know Tori Spelling – and I obviously am 105% jealous of this – I triple-dog-dare her to compete with my knowledge of the Peach Pit After Dark and the magic that is the Opening Music Montage.
(photo credit: NYCArthur at Flickr)
*Important, special note to the CW*: you’d best not screw up this “90210” spinoff. We’re watching, and unlike the college years - both at “CU” and in reality - we are (most likely) not under the jello shot influence this time around.
2) Although the Bachelor and Bachelorette are on my permanent TiVo rotation, I have my very own drama-free, adorable husband. I don’t mention this because of some dark belief that being married conveys ultimate moral superiority, but merely to illustrate that I managed to end up with someone who is not a) an addict; b) an actor/model/whatever; c) in a questionable “rock” band; d) an addicted actor/model/whatever who is in a questionable “rock” band. Take that, Mr. Good-God-Charlotte-Why-Do-You-Keep-Wearing-That-Tragic-Hat.
3) Like Whatsherface, I too have a foofy dog. I, however, have only one foofy dog, and it must be said that he is reaaallly, reaaally good looking. Most importantly, I do not carry him around in a freaking Louis Vuitton dog carrier. OK, so it might be that Boobs Simpson is the one doing that, but whatever. Make my
4) I have interests (aside from) that do not include starring in b-list movies and challenging my too-short skirts to just once, just not today, make my assets well acquainted with all passersby. I may be a cotillion dropout, but somewhere along the way I did learn how to politely remove my gloves from my hands and keep my undies from public viewing. Not to say that observing and making fun of the above isn’t a right and joyful hobby in and of itself. And yes, my interests would include shopping on
However, in addition to the usual shopping and beautification hobbies, I’ve managed to graduate from high school and more. I’ve also been known to read , see a movie, and watch strange comedy – sometimes all at once. In fact, if you’re one of those sorts who sighs, “I just don’t get British humor”, you may as well turn around and go back to watching Mario Lopez on Animal Planet or what have you. Not that I’m British, or Aspiring British like HRH Madonna and her tragic accent of late – I'm just saying.
5) Um . . . did I mention shoes? Oh, sure,
(credit: Neiman Marcus)
Thank you for your vote of support. I stand for CHANGE . . . well, that’s actually the guy who’s running for President, in case you hadn’t heard it everywakingmomentfromsunuptosundowndangit. OK, maybe I just stand for nice stationery, good jewelry, and just generally seeking out the good life, but that’s a stance I feel like The American People (have you ever wondered who The American People are, exactly? And how they must have forgotten to call you while polling these mysterious TAPs?) can embrace . . .