Things That Ruin Real Life (But Never the Movies)

Movies and TV are a dream world, and I get that. But lately, the trend has been gritty, hyperrealism–take the hungry, dirty cast of The Walking Dead and the depressing personal lives of everyone on Mad Men, for example. Everything about modern movies and shows is as real as possible…but damn, do they still forget some important details. Such as…

  1. Periods. Yeah, people, I’m going there. Sometimes–usually about once a month–girls have some “lady business” going on. And for those of you who don’t know, it’s not a one-day affair. I am really not sure how all the women of The Walking Dead are coping without tampons. And if you’re saying, “Oh, they have some but they just don’t show it,” bullpuckey. They made a whole episode about getting baby formula, so don’t tell me one of those girls isn’t in need of some feminine hygiene products. And Lost is even worse. There is NO WAY they were getting pads from anywhere, but nobody breathes a word about that.
  2. Haircuts. See above–how the fuck is anyone in end-of-the-worldia making time for a nice trim with haircutting scissors? Or a straight shave?
  3. Dead bodies. In a lot of movies and shows where a large number of people die, there are WAY less bodies around than one would expect. Or, said dead bodies are pretty as a peach, since no movie wants to show the beloved main character looking like a bloated beluga whale. Let’s get real here–corpses aren’t cute.
  4. Bullet counts. Oh, wow, the main character of EVERY MOVIE EVER has a magical 42-round pistol! Better buy me one of those before it’s illegal, ammIright? Count the shots in the next big fight scene you’re watching, and I’d bet my bottom dollar the hero is not reloading when his double-barrel shotgun kills 9 people.
  5. Makeup. Unless the movie is about beauty queens, you’re supposed to assume that everyone just looks like that. They show the girl next door lying down peacefully with a full face of makeup, and you’re supposed to believe part of her “natural beauty” are eyelash extensions and lipliner. Or said girl will be running through the woods for 6 weeks without food and water, but her eyeshadow is still flawless.
  6. Clothes. No one in movies or TV shows EVER repeats an outfit. Even characters that aren’t supposed to be loaded seem to have a limitless closet. Take Sookie from True Blood–she’s a bayou waitress with noooo money and yet she owns more sundresses than a Macy’s.
  7. Sex. I know that showing the two hot-and-heavy leads taking out a condom kind of kills the magic, but damn, people, STDs!

Now, I could go on and on, but I’m in the middle of a movie marathon, so I’ve gotta go soak up more deliciously flawed entertainment.

Advertisements

Crush That Girl

Everyone has a girl crush. Guys and gay girls, sure, but everyone else too–straight girls and gay guys and the people who fall somewhere in between. See, the reason is that a “girl crush” doesn’t have to be sexual, and usually isn’t, so EVERYONE has one. Girls are magical creatures, kind of like unicorns but with soft lips and shiny hair instead of a weird deformity in the middle of their head. Personally, I think it’s impossible not to have a crush on at least one.

Mine is my girl Candice, which I agree is probably narcissistic since I’ve been compared to her on more than one occasion. But far be it from me to make Girl Crush rules–if your girl crush happens to be the fox you see in the mirror every day, more power to you. But COME ON–look at Ms. Swanepoel. I don’t care who you are, she is gorge.

Now, I pretty much have a GC on Candy because she looks like a human Barbie and she has a really awesome accent that should be used to record soothing fall-asleep tapes. And girl has some serious yoga flex. But usually, people’s Girl Crushes are a little more complex. Take the most girl-crushed-upon girl of all time, the indie darling Zooey Deschanel.

Now, yes, people like Zooey for her looks. As with most (but not all) girl crushes, it’s all about appearance. Zooey is a normal-looking pretty girl with big boobs, so naturally a lot of people like her. But toss on the thick bangs, vintage dresses, and the occasional pair of quirky-cute glasses, and Zooey is the world’s Girl Crush extraordinaire. I’m not hating at all, I just don’t happen to have a GC on Zooey so that drooling, hearts-a-pitter-patter feeling Crushers have is absent in me. Which means I find it a little annoying when people squeal, “Ugh, I just love Zooey, she’s so unique!”

That brings us to…the dark side of Girl Crushes. When you have a total GC on someone, and your best friend says, “Oh, really? I don’t like her,” and you stare daggers into them because OBVIOUSLY THE PERSON YOU CRUSH ON IS PERFECT…yeah, that’s when it’s gone too far. Then you need to stop bidding on their used tissues on eBay, making a scrapbook of their tabloid appearances, and doodling their surname in your checkbook. A girl crush is just that–a crush. Obsession? Come on, now you’re just creepy!

Celeb-brattys

All celebrities must kind of be assholes brats. I mean, unless you’re the bestfuckingpersonever, I don’t see how all the endless adoration doesn’t go to you head. (It wouldn’t go to mine, of course, since I’m so great, but I digress.) People dedicate hours to making fan pages for you, they cry if they meet you, they spend $10 to hang a poster of you over their bed. You are larger-than-life to the average person, and if that’s not enough to make you a raging narcissist, all your people–agents, friends, directors, show hosts, journalists–fall all over you to give in to your every need.

But probably the most brat-inducing thing about being a celebrity is that people. Fucking. Love. You. I don’t mean all the stuff written above–that they love seeing you, and your work, and blah blah blah. In addition to that, they love YOU. The human. They want to know every little thing about you–your favorite color, how much you weigh, what your childhood was like, what you eat for a midnight snack, what movies are your favorites. They love you so God damn much they want to crawl inside your skin and be you. And that’s a lot of power for someone like, say, Lindsay Lohan.

It’s also the thing that I think (besides the free clothes) would be the best about being a celebrity. You get to talk about yourself all the time and answer stupid questions–that’s fun! Why the hell else would everyone take an hour back in 2003 to fill out those 300-question surveys on MySpace? WE LOVE OURSELVES. So, that shit would be cray.

And so I’m gonna do it! You should too, my regular-ass readers, because let’s face it–we’re all pretty and talented and interesting enough to be famous, we just don’t have famous parents or a coke habit (I hope). So feel free to fill out the Celebratty Full-of-Yourself Questionnaire in the comments–I promise, it’s almost as fun as having the paparazzi stalk your every move.

  1. Place of birth. I’ll never tell. What?! I’m not the famous one here.
  2. Number of tattoos, and meanings. One–freedom, beauty, and love.
  3. Favorite food. Spicy tuna roll.
  4. Pets? One kitten.
  5. Worst thing about being famous. Free drugs.
  6. Best thing about being famous. Free drugs.
  7. Favorite designer. Bags, Balenciaga. Shoes, Louboutin. Dresses, Oscar de la Renta.
  8. Favorite childhood memory. The lake.
  9. Inspirational quote. “C’est la vie.”

This is dumb, now that I wrote it. I’m going to post it anyway. C’est la vie!

Fall Favorites

Fall is my favorite season. It’s the perfect temperature–hoodie weather!–and everything is beautiful (extra so to me, since reds and golds are some of my top colors). Plus, the best parts are that you can wear anything. Literally anything! It’s still warm enough for skirts with cozy cardigans, or jeans, and…okay, if you couldn’t tell, this is just going to be me talking about the clothes I want for fall.

So, foxy little foxies, here is my mandatory wish list for fall. Feel free to buy anything and everything seen below and overnight it to me. Or buy it for yourself and roll around in leaves–or have sex in some! (Just watch out for slugs…I can think of few mood-killers worse than a slug in the wrong place.)

1.) Riding boots. Riding boots are sooo quintessentially fall. I don’t really know why, maybe because they’re preppy–all great fall clothes are, because of memories of going back-to-school or something? Who knows, who cares, buy me some. Snap snap, my delicate feet are catching a chill!

2.) Plaid. Especially in red. So cozy and cute and cuddly, and it crosses over into winter so easily. I have a super-cozy red plaid flannel button-down and you just look so effortlessly cute (or I do, anyway).

Best part? The gents look sexy too

3.) Wool skirts. Are you catching the drift here? Schoolgirl chic, with a kick! (Ha.)

Are you still just sitting dumbly at your computer screen waiting for more things to list? Well, so am I…but I refuse to post them until I get some creamy mocha leather riding boots in my size. Giddy-up!

Great and Terrible Beauty (Products)

If you read this blog, you know that I’m a pervert  I love Ian Somherhalder   most of my posts are stupid I love makeup. I love to put it on my face, in my tea, and draw on things with it. Okay, only the first one, but trust me, I. Love. Makeup. And I consider myself something of an expert, since I’ve been messing around with it since I was 11.

The thing about makeup, though, is that it’s just like a man: some of it is just fucking terrific and leaves you glowing, and some of it is trashy and awful. And, also like men, the awful ones might surprise you.

So I did what I do best and put together a little list. I full expect my lady readers to run to their makeup drawers and throw out everything I say is bad. And dudes, I would say to buy your gals some of the nice things, but then they might take it as a, “Hey, ugly, please put this on to cover up your face” kind of thing and that would suck. Maybe just stick with lingerie.

Maybelline Great Lash Mascara: Terrible. This mascara is super popular and is always winning beauty awards, but I think it is one of the worst eyelash enhancers ever invented. Personally, I think the only reason it’s popular is because it’s ghetto cheap and it’s been around since the 80s, so moms keep buying it while fondly reminiscing about Duran Duran concerts. It does NOTHING for your eyelashes except make them darker and clump them together.

Maybelline Volum’ Express Mascara: Great. See, I’m not biased against Maybelline or anything–this mascara has been my one and only since I first bought the yellow tube. I seriously have about five tubes rolling around in my makeup case. It does exactly what you want mascara to do: makes your eyelashes super thick and long. To be fair, I have very long eyelashes, but they’re not thick, so I’m not sure about the fantastic lengthening powers of this stuff, but it makes your eye-dusters super lush.

Covergirl Trublend Pressed Powder: Terrible. Okay, maybe it’s not terrible, but I gotta have some continuity with my rating system here. This stuff is just powder for your face, and it’s not good for your skin and looks like powder when it’s on. Not the worst thing ever, but certainly not good for the whole “flawless face” look that, um, everyone wants. Grandmas who like to look like they just dunked their face into a 40’s flour bucket, rejoice–this one’s for you.

Physicians Formula Mineral Wear Talc-Free Mineral Airbrushing Loose Powder: Great. And yes, that’s the full name. It is lovely. It doesn’t make my ridiculously sensitive skin break out, the colors are really blend-y, and unless you apply it super heavy-handedly it doesn’t look powdery. Plus, one container lasts forrreverrr.

Physicians Formula Blush: Terrible. (I can’t find it on their website, so I don’t know the full name, but maybe they know it’s terrible and discontinued it.) The palest pink gives you rouged-on bright red cheeks no matter how little you use, and the applicator is weird and doesn’t work. I love Physicians Formula but this stuff was/is terrrrible.

Logona Blush Powder Duos: Great. So great they deserve all-caps. GREAT! If you’re not familiar, Logona is a German, BDIH-certified brand of all-natural makeup that is fucking stellar. I get their stuff at a crunchy natural-junk store near my job, and everything they make is good (their red lip pencil is amazing). This blush is right on par, and the palette has two colors for the price of one.

L’Oreal HIP High Intensity Pigments Concentrated Eye Shadow Duo: Terrible. Now, I have only tried one color set of this, and it was greens, which is a little weird to begin with. So these might not be all bad. But holy fuck, do I hate this eyeshadow. It goes on really dark and uneven, some parts going on super matte and color-packed and other parts sheer. A clean sweep leaves you looking like you rubbed your eyes after crying. AWFUL.

Revlon Colorstay 16 Hour Eyeshadow: Great. I own about seven different color palettes of these. They are color-true, although a little sheer, but you can layer them to get the darkness you want, and they don’t smudge unless you fuck around with your eyes, and then what do you expect to happen! These are, I have to say, definitely not the best eyeshadows in the world or anything, but totally solid for the price.

Okay, stop reading, and go throw out your old-ass green-and-pink tubes of Great Lash already!

Why Women Hate Samantha Brick

(Hint: it’s not because she’s beautiful.) I’m not sure if any of you have had the pleasure to read Samantha Brick’s columns in The Daily Mail, but she came out with a doozy, titled, “There are downsides to looking this pretty–Why women hate me for being beautiful.” This is Samantha, by the way.

I’ll just let that sink in. Now, in the interest of fairness, Samantha is British, so the semi-busted teeth are not her fault. And besides her mouth (and looking slightly like Sloth from The Goonies if you look at her really fast then look away), she is really not ugly. She’s pretty, even–look at this picture.


But holy mother of pearl, is she delusional. You really have to read the article, but I’ll spare you and just pop in some highlights.

“While I’m no Elle Macpherson, I’m tall, slim, blonde and, so I’m often told, a good-looking woman. I know how lucky I am. But there are downsides to being pretty — the main one being that other women hate me for no other reason than my lovely looks.”

“I’ve been dropped by countless friends who felt threatened if I was merely in the presence of their other halves. If their partners dared to actually talk to me, a sudden chill would descend on the room.”

“Unfortunately women find nothing more annoying than someone else being the most attractive girl in a room.”

Um…yeeeeeah. Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t think people hate you because you’re so ridiculously beautiful that their husbands would fall at your feet and your smile makes them want to rip off their own faces in jealousy. I’m pretty sure the reason people actually hate you is that you’re more conceited than Kanye West.

Loving yourself is just ducky, and thinking that you are a hot motherfuckin’ tamale is also totally kosher. Even kind of secretly thinking you look better than everyone in the room is sort of acceptable. BUT YOU CAN’T ACT LIKE IT. That’s the cardinal rule. There’s confidence, and then there’s swaning around complaining in a newspaper about how tough life is when you’re sooooooooo beautiful. I mean, you just sound like a twat.

On one foot, I sort of feel bad for ol’ Sammy Brick, because she really isn’t ugly and the whole Internet has just gone insane with comments about how hideous she is. Her personality isn’t cute, but her face is–she’s just not drop-dead, knock-’em-over gorgeous, which is how she writes about herself. I mean, has she ever seen a model? Or a celebrity? Or, you know, someone with white teeth (stupid question, she’s English)? But still, she writes in the article about how “not one girlfriend has ever asked [Samantha] to be her bridesmaid.” She obviously attributes this to the fact that she’s so stunning, the bride’s husband would inevitably veer over to Samantha and give her the ring instead. But, tragically obviously to the rest of the world, it’s clearly because she’s annoying as fuck and has no real friends.

On the other foot, come on, Sammy. You get free champagne and have doors opened for you and all that, so shut the fuck up and enjoy it.

Do You, Unattractive, Take Handsome to Be Your Lawfully Wedded Husband?

I think everyone knows an “unattractive guy, pretty girl” couple. It’s just the way of the world. The Unattractive Guy is probably funny, and failing that, he is probably sweet, nice, and doesn’t mention his thing for BDSM choking on the first date. And the Pretty Girl is sick of hot douchebags, and so she goes for personality instead and lives happily ever after with Unattractive Guy.

If they turned around, you'd be shocked by how ugly he is.

It’s just life. Boys are shallower, and girls care about personality more. And there are exceptions and blah-blah-blah, but the general rule is that the dude is going to date the hot chick, and the chick is going to date the nice, funny guy. Every time some (usually hideously ugly) man posts on Facebook: “The good guy never gets the girl,” I think to myself, “Well, sweetheart, even she has limits.” I mean, a pretty girl will date a nice, plain-looking or even slightly-ugly-but-plays-it-off-well-with-a-beard guy, but if you’re fugly and fat (and nice), that’s a whole new plate of pie.

But the Unattractive Girl, Handsome Guy couple? That is way less typical. If you see a pretty girl walking around with a plain-t0-slightly-ugly guy, you probably don’t do a double take, unless you’re turning around to stare at her butt. But when you see a plan-to-ugly girl walking around with some handsome, muscular fellow, you think to yourself, “Whaaathefuck?” It’s weird. I mean, I’m happy for Unattractive Girl, although if I was dating way up I’d be constantly afraid someone not-ugly would swoop in and steal my man.

If you haven’t seen the UG-HG coupling in nature, well, you’re in luck, because last night I had the good fortune to witness the very beginning of an UG-HG relationship! That’s right, folks–The WildHearts strapped on her explorer hat and headed into the wild to witness this all go down. (Or, you know, I was at the bar casually sipping the world’s most expensive Appletini and saw it all play out.)

Handsome Guy was not my type, but he was definitely a lot of other girls’ dreamboat: tall, cropped blonde hair, handsome face and big muscly arms, one of which had a non-tribal tattoo on it. He was good-looking in that all-American Army boy kind of way, and he knew it. And all these little drunk sluts were flitting around him like whore-moths to a light, and what did he do?

Mack on the Plainest of Janes next to him at the bar. I mean, I am not exaggerating when I say that this girl could’ve stepped into a wallpaper and faded away completely. The only reason I was even aware of her existence was because it was so shocking that Handsome Guy was hitting on her. She had really lank, limp hair the color of mice poo, a plain, tired face, and a weak chin, which all matched her hideous grandma sweater and bad posture. I mean, she could be sweet as pie and all that shit, but that is what she looked like, before anyone accuses me of Level 10 Bitchiness.

And Handsome Guy LOVED her. I am not kidding; he wanted to drop to one knee and propose to her with a bottle cap. He didn’t even seem drunk. He laughed at everything she said, never so much as glanced at any of the twats screaming with drunk excitement a foot away, and basically looked like a little puppy wiggling at a new bone. In fact,  Unattractive Girl actually seemed less interested.

I guess my point is, it was weird? And everyone should date who they love, but if you’re so funky-looking that some bitchy blogger writes a post about you the next day, you should maybe not go to crowded bars in SalVo sweaters that probably smell like mothballs? And everyone should drink Appletinis if they have a $20 to spare?

Previous Older Entries