One Whipped Mother

It Isn't Easy Being Mean

I’m feeling hateful today, very much annoyed at nothing and everything, as well as sickened to the brink of emptying my stomach contents -- a feeling that can only be described by using this analogy:

It’s like taking a tour of the White House and having Karl Rove yapping at your heels every step of the way. You might kick out your leg, shush him, hurl priceless heirlooms at his big fluffy head, to no avail. Rove just won’t shut up, keeps yipping and ki-yiii-ing and nipping at your pant leg, and you finally lose all patience, roll up the Washington Post and give him a good swat. Unfortunately, to your horror, this seems to excite Rove, and instead of cowering, he immediately jumps on your leg, wraps his arms around your thigh, and begins humping with all his might. You promptly bend at the waist and empty the entire contents of your stomach onto floor.

So to honor this day of inexplicable resentment and churning guts, I present to you my second installment of Things That Make You Go Ewww! You can read the first installment posted just about a year ago today (heavens, has it really been a year since I started this blog?) right here. If you’re so inclined.

Onward, then, to my latest ewww’s…

#1 Danny Bonaduce’s black and white close-up during the promo ads for his new reality show, “Breaking Bonaduce.” I tried to find a still of that via Google, but all I could find was this:
Still pretty ewww-worthy, I think.

#2 The CNN reporter who, upon discovering a man wandering aimlessly after the levees broke, pounced with claws bared, whiskers back -- she wouldn’t leave the poor soul be. His wife had been swept away, you see, and he was in shock, despair, utterly devastated. Could barely talk. Yet the reporter, big ol’ crocodile tears welling, dramatic creak in he voice, hounded him, batted at his spirit like so much filmy yarn until she got the money shot. “She gone,” he finally said. “She gone.” And he wept. Oh, you could just about hear her purring.

Why, that disgusting, shameless bitch.

#3 Tommy Lee. Ms. Lori despises him. Ms. Lori often experiences numbing pangs in her jaw, a sensation many of us feel just before vomiting, when she looks at him. Yet, strangely enough, Ms. Lori has a tremendous urge to jump on his leg and hump with all her might. Go figure.

#4 The dream I had last night. I was suckling a baby snake, a little green snake, and I didn’t find it odd at all. The baby snake grew quite quickly, thank goodness, and its need for breast milk was short-lived. Its appetite, however, was voracious, especially for tacos. The remainder of my time in the dream was spent in the kitchen, frying hamburger and beans, chopping vegetables, rolling tortillas.

Wow. It just hit me that I had a dream in which I was suckling a snake. Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

#5 Commercials that feature “talking” or “dancing” babies (TV shows, too, for that matter --- one BIG reason why I never watched Ally McBeal). It isn’t cute, it isn’t endearing, and it sure as hell doesn’t make me want to buy the product or visit the restaurant. It makes me want to grab the holy water and fling it directly into the glowing green eyes of the ad executives until their eyeballs sizzle and pop, then fall out of their skulls.

#6 Shakira‘s bone-popping, torso-thrusting, puppet-like dance moves. It’s like watching a reanimated corpse being controlled by unseen theater wire. It’s like witnessing that corpse being pulled apart, each rib disconnecting from its sternum with each shimmy-pop-pull of the wire, the cold, dead flesh shiny as it’s stretched tight, tighter, tighter still, until thin cracks form on the gray epidermis, cracks that widen with every jerk, exposing decomposing layers of bloodless meat.

Okay, now I’m just being mean.

posted by Ms. Lori @ 10:49 AM