No shit?! We have a BLACK President? And he’s being sworn in TODAY?
I’m a big fan of Obama, but even I am tiring of all the coverage of the Inauguration. It’s incredibly repetitive.
I’m glad he’s in, he’s safe and we’re all looking forward to a brighter future, but how about we give the man a few minutes of privacy to take a crap (or at least find his new bathroom)?
Last night, I took my best friend Holly out for her birthday. We settled into the bar, ready for a night of cherry bombs, karaoke and snarky gossip when Holly’s face gets this…EXPRESSION.
“Oh. My. God. TURN AROUND.”
“What? What’s over there? Do I really wanna see?” I ask her, cocking an eyebrow.
“YES. It will MAKE YOUR DAY.”
She knows me well, because I turned around and saw this poor, misguided woman rocking the biggest fashion mistake I’ve seen since…well, EVER.
Picture if you will: WHITE Mom jeans. Itty bitty, white tank with racer back straps. Pancakes for breasts, each adorned with its own stretched-out tattoo. Ratted out hair, topped with a scrunchie. And, the best part: a shoulder tat of the Confederate flag. Yee-haw.
Throughout the night, she’d walk past us and I’d beg Holly to get me out of there. See, I’d already reached my limit on cherry bombs at the last bar, and I was about to say something mean – directly to this girl’s face.
Holly, of course, buys another round. Which pisses me off, cause it’s HER birthday, dammit, and I’m supposed to be buying the shots. So then I buy a round too.
Then my brother shows up, and I try to set him up with this chick. I mean, come on, it’s the woman of his dreams, right? He’s wasted too, so I don’t think he remembers this, which is good.
What happened subsequently is kinda blurry, but at some point she ended up throwing on a large hoodie, and I remember loudly yelling, “Thank God! I was HOPING you’d put some fucking clothes on before I got the heaves.”
Man, where the fuck are those two sycophants from What Not to Wear when you REALLY need them? Must I do ALL the fucking work around here? Because there is just not enough goddamn Jager on the planet for me to get that job done.
Please stop naming your kid dumb things just because you think your kid is the second coming of Christ.
Today I heard that someone actually named their child ABCDE (pronounced “ab-suh-dee”) and I nearly went into a murderous rage.
You can’t name your kid after the scoop of Alpha-Bits you had this morning, you asshole. You also can’t name them after streets, cities or classes you took in college.
Please rethink, or the rest of us will have to cauterize your genitals.
* What could you possibly talk about on the phone during your morning train ride that can’t wait until later?
* Does anyone else think it’s more than a coincidence that the last two Batman movies, centered squarely on corruption, have been filmed here in Chicago?
* Can Barack Obama just be President already?
These are the burning questions, people.
