Archive for the ‘bitch’ Category

As Promised, Tension At The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

April 18, 2014

Holocaust-interior_2344

This post should be an interesting attempt to relay an uncomfortable yet amusing incident whilst still maintaining an a modicum of respect towards the setting. Hopefully, this won’t come off as “yah, so we were at that Nazi place in DC and these bitches…” Knowing me, it probably will. Alas!

The other Mr. Harvey and I were in DC to celebrate his 40th birthday at the beginning of this month. He’s not one for big parties where people look at him (that was actually a concern he voiced once…people looking at him…when he doesn’t have his hijab on) so we thought a quick jaunt somewhere fun would be keen. Plus, we’re both currently unemployed (we’re the American nightmare) and had the time laying around and look, Jet Blue has a deal! Cherry blossoms and new bars in which to get intoxicated and new sidewalks to stumble upon while drunkenly abusing Uber!

Despite it being a birthday trip, there were some tourist attractions we had wanted to see that weren’t exactly going to be the ball pit at Chuckie Cheese (that’s not a gay sex reference). We had both heard that the main exhibit at the Holocaust Museum was a sobering must-see. We got our tickets online for our 1st day there so we could get the horror portion of the other Mr. Harvey’s birthday out of the way.

It’s an interesting space. I wouldn’t call it pleasant because it’s designed to evoke concentration camp imagery with a lot of brick and exposed girders. Another interesting feature? The staff, for the most part, are made up of some really extreme personalities. Most of the service industry members we encountered in our nation’s capital that trip were really friendly, laid-back and warm. I’m not sure why, but most of the staff at the Holocaust Memorial were WROUGHT. Witness our first exchange with the female human that womans the entrance elevators to the main exhibit.

We make our way in-between her velvet ropes (that came out dirty) but Scotty has us pause so we can call up our tickets on his phone. Please note in advance that there is no line behind us or in front of us. At that moment it’s just the Harveys. My husband has been searching and scrolling for maybe two seconds when she attacked.

Holocaust worker: Tickets?

Husband: Just calling them up on my phone here…

Holocaust worker (perhaps she didn’t hear him?): I said, do you have tickets?

Me: He’s just getting them on his phone.

Holocaust worker: Well, maybe you should move over there to find them so you’re not blocking the way, ok?

I look behind me and note the absence of any other people behind us. Just some velvet ropes. Air. Is this a fire exit? My husband, who does not suffer being spoken down to by fools, bitches, or maniacs, jerks his head up from his phone. Sometimes I feel like there’s a rubber band stretched to its extreme in his brain. That rubber band is marked “JUST TRY IT, BITCH.” I myself loathe confrontation. I’m the shrinking violet who nervously laughs when he forgets to hold a door for someone AND RUNS BACK TO DO IT because I want them to know I didn’t do it out of spite. It makes me look like a wackjob but it’s all designed to not get a dirty look or have anyone think “remember that asshole who didn’t hold the door for me at the mall” before they fall asleep that evening.

Anyway…

“I’M CALLING IT UP RIGHT NOW,” he said in a slow, emphatic tone. Oh dear. Before Officer Friendly could ignore that and ask for tickets again in a disgusted monotone, they popped up on his phone. She waved us through towards a bank of elevators with a chubby, indifferent hand. Another holocaust worker shot out of nowhere with blond curls and a peppy demeanor. She was the radiant ying to ticket bitch’s yang. You would have thought she was seating us at a Disneyworld character breakfast. She had obviously never read up on XYKLON-B or what they were making the lampshades with in Nazi Germany.

We were put in an elevator with a large, equally happy family. Mom was smiling widely as they bantered. She was standing directly in front of the elevator’s panel of buttons. Smiling. No button was pressed. Nothing was lit up. Nothing was moving. A couple of dreary pics of German soldiers added to my discomfort from above. Do I…move her? What do I say? Can I get in there? What if she thought I meant her ass? Her ass was almost ON the panel. NOTHING WAS HAPPENING. WE WEREN’T MOVING. There’s no switch outside they can press? It’s hot in here. They’re talking like it’s fine. Is this like the Haunted Mansion and we’re actually going down but it’s so mechanically deft we can’t feel it? Scotty didn’t notice. He’s looking at his phone and reading the walls. Swiss Family Oblivious are laughing and chatting like it’s the cherry blossom festival. THERE’S GONNA BE FOOTAGE OF EMACIATED CORPSES BEING MOVED OFF OF TRUCKS WITH PITCHFORKS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THOSE DOORS. I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE. I made my move.

“Can I…” I advanced towards Denim Elevator Panel Ass, weakly pointing behind her. She looked at me, and then turned to see why I was invading her space. Her mouth opened wide and she began giggling.

“Oh! OH! We were just sitting here! I’m sorry!”

“Way to go, Mom!”

“Duh, Ma!”

I smiled nervously (“Oh, that,’s ok!’ I shrieked), sweat beads barreling down my ivory expanse of a 10-head. Social anxiety is the fucking worst. Button pressed. Nothing happened.

Nothing happened. We were in a hot elevator with nothing happening. They didn’t even give us a button light for assurance. Was this part of the show? That’s fine, we deserved to suffer. We deserved a portly ticket taker making us feel stupid. We didn’t go through what all those people went through. We deserve to sweat and feel awkward in this hell-avator.

The doors sprang open. Cool air rushed in. The happy Holocaust worker regarded us quizzically. Blonde curls bounced as she cocked her head to the side like a curious toy poodle.

“Well, um, wait? What happened?”

“I guess we weren’t going anywhere…” Denim Elevator Panel Ass Mom offered helpfully. Happy went to get Grumpy. She waddled over with a ring of keys and her usual stank face. Resentfully flipping open a little door on the panel, she shoved a key in, and pressed the button again with a girthy finger.

“This breaks…,” she announced moodily to no one in particular. She was never one for an apology.

The doors shut, the floor shook and hydraulics hummed. Up.

(more…)

Apparently Julia Roberts Is A Huge Bitch

August 13, 2010

I'm going to have my own party in your party so you feel shitty about your party.

America’s Sweetheart (apologies to Sandy Bullock) Julia Roberts is reportedly in no way reluctant to flip the I’m A Star, So You Can Die switch. And here’s the thing…I can’t really fault her that much. She’s Julia Roberts. She’s one of the few real movie stars left. And when I say “movie star,” I don’t mean amazing actress. Julia is no Meryl. Hell, Julia is no Jodie. Or Annette. Or Julianne. She’s just charisma. We love the big mouth, and sparkling eyes, and the infectious laugh. Unfortunately, Julia REALIZES she’s one of the last real move stars left and it’s gone to her head. Someone needs to remind her ass that she once played second fiddle to Justine Bateman. Mallory, get over here!

So, Julia’s new epic Eat, Pray, Drugs is out..and ok, basically the gist of why she’s a bitch is that she went to the premiere party and then commented that it was “tacky” and threw her own party within the party and excluded a lot of people (including the author of the book) and people had to like abandon family members to be able to enter and it was really shitty of her. The rundown is over on Lainey Gossip (a very good gossip blog) and there are even more instances of why Julia is a huge bitch. Especially THIS one in which it’s evident that the people around her basically tell her she’s a goddess all the time so when she gets whiff of criticism, she goes berserk because she’s a STAR, damnit! A NEELY O’HARA-SIZED star.

But what I decided I wanted to post about is how everyone loves Eat, Pray, Drugs and a friend (who senses I’ve been in a questioning spiral of what the fuck? for decades) RECOMMENDED it to me because she thought it could help. Which was nice, but after reading the book jacket and seeing the trailer for what looks to be an eh-type of movie I’m left with this one thought:

THAT BITCH CAN GO ON A SOUL-SEARCHING WORLD TRIP AND EAT COUNTRYSIDES AND MEET AMAZING PEOPLE AND EXPERIENCE DIFFERENT CULTURES AND DRY-HUMP ELEPHANTS BECAUSE SHE HAS THE MONEY TO DO SO!

Bitch is like a high-powered editor or something! She has riches! She can just jet around the world. Regular people who are lower middle-class who are depressed and questioning why they’re even here can’t just hop on a fucking plane and make like some sort of entitled Carmen Sandeigo (sp.)! I can barely afford to find myself and commune with our world in the ice cream freezer down at the Tedeschi’s!

It’s a big slap in the face to those of us who feel they aren’t fulfilling society’s expectations of “successful.” Howabout a popular memoir and movie about two queers in an apartment who are barely making rent and have job woes and the puppy is barking REALLY loudly and what’s on the DVR and the only thing that anesthesizes at this point me is a Golden Girls re-run and microwave risotto. The meds aren’t working. It’s hot in the city, and sometimes I sit on the edge of the bed in my towel after showering in the morning (control your boner) and I have to physically summon the effort to get up and get dressed and go out the door into this shitty world. I can always wear a sari or something to give it a more multicultural flavor for the film version.

No one’s going to buy that, huh? Julia is pretty and even if her character doesn’t have her shit together, she’s representative of the people in the world who actually DO. The people who seem like a conundrum to me. Whom I ask “how?” about…

Anyway, as for Julia being a huge bitch, so be it. She’s got money. Though I am reminded of what Cher supposedly said about Madonna back in the late 80s. “I think she can afford to be a little more magnanimous and a little less of a cunt.” Dude, when that happened, did all the gays spin and die? It’s like if you were in Ancient Greece and Athena threw some shade at Hera.

Perez Hilton Is One Dumb Bitch

June 15, 2010
Please tell me someone punched him after this picture was taken.

Please tell me someone punched him after this picture was taken.

Anytime Karma twists its lips into a sneer and kicks Perez Hilton in the cooch (don’t make an argument that there’s a penis there, we all watched his sobbing Wil.i.am beat me up video), I consider going back to being Catholic and hauling ass to the nearest church to thank Jesus. Because he was dumb enough to allegedly Twitter a link to a photo of Miley Cyrus‘ vagina. And she’s 17. Which means she’s not of age. Which means it was illegal. Which means someone at the LA DA’s office with a particular dislike for his gross ass could pursue this in a court of law. Which means he could go to jail. Which means I could take over, be way (ok, a little) less irritating and ascend to that bitch’s throne. Oh, who am I kidding…it would totally be that slut over at DListed.

From Salon:

“We’re not talking about a misdemeanor,” attorney Jeffrey Douglas told the website. “You don’t have to know what the definition of the law is; all you have to do is knowingly distribute the photograph.”

On Monday night, Hilton posted a video — not a direct response to the photo link, mind you — in which he says that “it’s OK for Miley to be a little sexier, because she’s almost 18.” And on Tuesday afternoon he posted a link to a picture of Miley fully clothed, allegedly “proving” underwear was present because you can see it through her frock.

Which makes it so much more wholesome, as he’s trying to drill to see if a 17-year-old girl has panties on to prove his point. This is one dumb cow. And I don’t mean Miley. She’s a woodchuck. Miley is annoying me lately, but I hope she and her boyfriend father run with this and sue that tub.

Where do I sign the petition to make sure they prosecute him? Then again, this is LA. Lindsay Lohan could fucking behead a nun and throw it at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre while driving past in a stolen car and only catch some community service time which she would ignore.

Oh yeah, and I realize that I do the same thing as Perez does. But I think I’m at least a little more entertaining. And I don’t wear those clothes. Or that wig. Or those hats. Fuck, compared to him I should be receiving some sort of citation for bravery and the key to the city.

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Hey, Katy Perry – Shut Your Mouth

June 9, 2010
She's just mad because she wore half of Lindsay Lohan's outfit.

She's just mad because she wore half of Lindsay Lohan's outfit.

Ugh, this bitch just fell off. So Katy Perry seems to have watched Lady Gaga‘s new vid for “Alejandro,” and being a devout Christian got all offended. So people should only be provocative on your terms? She should be more offended that her music is fucking awful. Did you hear that dreck song “California Gurls?” Is someone holding Snoop Dogg’s family hostage so that he would guest on it?

Anyway, E! reports that she threw shade at Gaga on Twitter, The Social Messaging Choice of Twats Everywhere.

“Using blasphemy as entertainment is as cheap as a comedian telling a fart joke,” Perry tweeted yesterday.

I don’t like her point. I, myself, am not into toilet humor but Sophia had some pretty good fart jokes on The Golden Girls, and they were comediennes extraordinaire. And doesn’t this trick realize fauxmosexuality is blasphemy (as well as the supposed bisexuality she was singing about) to her Christian community? I kissed a girl…to sell records! Eat a dick, Katy.

What’s blasphemy is co-opting every single musical style possible in a soulless manner just to get your corny ass on the radio. Rock, dance, bubblegum pop, oh she’s SO diverse. Right. And your blue wig sucks.

Look at me, defending Gaga like some hysterical queen. I wasn’t overly jazzed about the clip myself, but I will totally send Katy’s high horse to the glue factory for her.

Oh, and yeah, in the interest of fairness…I have “Self-Inflicted” on my iPod. I heard it on Pandora one day, and I got into it. See, my honesty might reveal me to be a hypocrite but it’s still honesty! I’m not perfect! I have flaws! But those flaws comprise A DIAMOND!

Check this out. AWFUL.

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Get Her!

June 5, 2010
I love you way more than Daddy does.

I love you way more than Daddy does.

So Kate Gosselin and her child junta will once again grace TLC in a new special called Kate Plus 8 Minus Fucktard Still Cunty. The actual title is Kate Plus 8 but see what I did there? Anyway, People has a sneak preview and Kate takes her kids to the Everglades for a vacation? Check the adventure!

What else is in store for Kate and the kids on Sunday’s show? More close encounters with creatures — they’ll feed sting rays and exotic birds and swim with dolphins — as well as some tasty treats. They’ll participate in an orange juice squeezing contest and eat birthday cake, of course!

It’s the kids’ sixth birthday celebration. Uh, have you heard of a place called Disney, Mom? Cuz’ raping hillbillies in swamp shacks on stilts and deadly water moccasins are not my idea of awesome birthday times! Alexis needs to drop her a note or something!

Anyway, they go on one of those Everglades tours that I will never ever be a part of because of my fear of reptiles. Here’s Kate’s battle with an alligator. The alligator needs to get on the stick and handle this business! But it’s too damn lazy! Couldn’t someone have put some raw meat on Kate’s head?

Oh, and my kingdom for the ability to make one of those gif things of Kate imitating what the alligator sounded like when it supposedly threatened her. “AWWHEHHHH!” Say it again, Kate! “AWWEHHHH!!” That’s the sound Jon makes when he squeezes into his Ed Hardy shirts and prays that coke dick won’t mess up his swingin’ new bachelor lifestyle again.

In other news, it’s wrong that I miss Kate’s angry cockatoo hairstyle, right?

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Kristen Stewart Is Such A Surly, Complainy Little Bitch That Even The Things That She Says That Aren’t Surly And Bitchy Come Out Surly And Bitchy

June 1, 2010
Oh, the bitter taste of fame. And wealth. And general good fortune. Shut up.

Oh, the bitter taste of fame. And wealth. And general good fortune. Shut up.

What is it with this one? Remember at the Oscars when she was like coughing and looking like she wanted to be anywhere else in the world and every bitch across America was like “Then don’t be there, ho!” Every move this one makes is just fraught with grouch. Fuck, Kristen Stewart. If it’s that difficult for you being rich and famous, quit and move to wherever the hell Shelly Duvall hangs out now. Open a fucking pie shop and get laid in the back of an RV and have some crib midgets and save us from your stank.

As for my headline, case in point. Popsugar has some quotes from Kristen’s interview from Elle UK in which she talks about that shitty vampire series of movies (seriously, I still laugh when I think about the part of the trailer for the last one when she’s like in the Vatican and running through a fountain screaming and I’m like..really? Can Sookie, Bill, Tara, Angel, Buffy, and Spike kill this bitch soon? Please. Still haven’t seen either of these bullshit movies…). And you can just hear the mewling and mumbling in these quotes, and the eye rolling, and finger sucking. Hey Bella, fuck you. There’s about 13 jillion little actress types who would be grateful for the work. God, can she just have Renessme (isn’t that the name of the baby? Iesus! Spoiler.) and finish this once and for fucking all?

On her relationship with Robert: “People always ask me if I’m dating Robert. It’s beyond annoying . . . What I say is, that, why would I want anything that’s private to become entertainment for other people? This is what I wanted to show you on here. People say that if I just tell them everything I’ll be left alone, but God, you think if I tell people they’ll leave me alone? They pick up every little scrap, and that’s much worse.”

Hi, I can barely afford rent. And I eat pasta by necessity every once in awhile. Shut your whore mouth. Give me your job and I will give scraps til’ people don’t want my scraps no more. You are a CELEBRITY. When this shit is over, you will be crying for it back.

And here’s one in which she kinda sounds happy about Twilight’s success but then kinda shits on it. Read it and see if you feel the same way:

On Twilight growing into a series: “We never thought it was going to be so huge; we never thought we’d do a second, a third. I’m quite nervous about the third one, actually. It’s such a privilege to be able to play a role for so long. Also, it’s such a product now; it didn’t start out as a product. I read the first book and thought, ‘Wow, this is a page turner.’ There was something in the script — the energy. It’s raw desire, that’s what that book is. Which is why it’s weird that little kids read it. I’m like, ‘What are you thinking about when you’re reading it?’ I thought that it was going to be a really simple, overly dramatic — which was what was attractive about it — rotten love story. When they cast me it wasn’t like, ‘Omigod, I got this huge movie’; it was like, ‘OK, I got this film.’ You have to rev up to it.”

Like when she denounced it as product. I mean, she’s RIGHT and everything. But it’s the PRODUCT that’s keeping her in weed and not having to ride the subway with the rest of us savages. So celebrate that product.

Anyway, she sucks. Although there is a bit where she refers to her upbringing as positive and says that it’s the reason why she’s not as “off the rails” as Lohan. That was hot. She’s still in the red with me, but anything that might get Lindsay to try and set Bella’s lawn on fire and then get Tasered over it is at least trying with me.

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