All babies look like Renée Zellweger pushed against a glass window.

September 10, 2014 by carlyjohn Leave a comment

I’m struggling to come to terms with Joan Rivers’ death, let alone put my thoughts into words that can honor her, but I was listening to Bananarama’s song “Cruel Summer” to commemorate the end of summer in America while feeling indifferent about my perpetual one here for the next two years, and it seems more appropriate now than ever. Joan, leaving me here on my own. It’s a cruel summer indeed.

Thank you, Joan, for being a bad ass bitch without any fucks to give. Your attitude was refreshing and a source of inspiration for people all over the world. I’ll cherish your comments on Gwyneth Paltrow, and pretty much every relevant celebrity from the last 20 years, until I too am six feet under. Many people think Joan was unjustifiably mean. She wasn’t, and if you’re really offended by her commentary on the lives of the richest and most famous people in the world, go do something useful or smoke a damn cigarette and get over it. Who cares if she hated Brittany Murphy’s dress at the premier of Uptown Girls in 2003 (I actually have no idea if this is true, I made it up)? Laugh and move on. She never meant for anyone to take her joke about North West being ugly and needing a wax seriously. Nor did she really think Anne Hathaway resembled a horse (but I certainly do! More specifically, an anime horse). Life kinda sucks at times and the world can be a mean place, Joan poked fun at it and wanted us to laugh. Read this quote from the legend herself:

“When I say, ‘No, this is wrong,’ people say: ‘See? She is a bitch. She is a c—.’ If I were a man, they’d say: ‘So brilliant. He’s tough, but he’s right.’ Nobody ever says to me, ‘You’re right.’”

Joan, you were absolutely right and a pioneer for women and comedians. Because of you, people like Sarah Silverman, Louis C.K., Ricky Gervais, Chris Rock, Chelsea Handler, etc. (sooooo many men) can say whatever the hell they want and make millions doing so. You were progressive and current, always, regardless of your age. Joan knew more about current pop culture than most 20-somethings I know (maybe this is because 20-somethings LOOOOOOOVE to think they are above literally keeping up with the Kardashians, this is a topic I don’t even want to touch right now) and was always on her A game, even after the debacle with Johnny Carson and her husband’s suicide.

In the 90s, Joan essentially created a whole new genre of entertainment, Red Carpet Commentary, when she told Julia Roberts “I hate your dress!” to Julia’s face in 1994. Because of this, red carpets are now an exciting and unpredictable forum for avidly discussing fashion and celebrity culture, all while fostering water cooler moments for those who enjoy them (PSA: Red carpets and award shows are my fucking Superbowl, and don’t you dare demean them). Her show Fashion Police with Kelly Osbourne, Giuliana Rancic, and George Kotsiopoulos, was always hilarious and gave me, my sisters, and other family members something to watch and talk about other than each other or Kendall Jenner’s budding modeling career (thanks Ray Jay!). I’ll never forget her joke about Jennifer Love Hewitt that went something like “If she’s a Ghost Whisperer, why doesn’t she hear the ghost behind her yelling ‘You…look…like…SHIT!’” Another one of my favorites, from the last episode of Fashion Police I watched, was on Gwen Stefani’s pink jumpsuit:”This is more pink than Tom Cruise saw in all three of his marriages.”When I can get a proper drink, I’ll raise my glass to you Joan and throw back five more in your honor. My new motto is “WWJoanD?” because life is too short to give a damn about what other people think or take yourself too seriously.

Before I discuss how I feel about site, I need to mention something about “Cruel Summer”. While filming the music video, the group went to a local New York pub where, instead of eating as planned, they did vials of coke with some blue collar workers. “That was our lunch. When you watch that video, we look really tired and miserable in the scenes we shot before lunch, and then the after-lunch shots are all euphoric and manic,” said one of the Bananarama members. After reading this, I obviously spent the next 45 minutes creating a timeline of the day based on their behavior in the video.

I’m relatively happy at site. There are times when I get annoyed, but if my biggest problem/complaint is that I’m doted on and taken care of too much, then I have it pretty easy. Creepy Teacher no longer sends me Coldplay lyrics via Facebook chat. Instead, he sings to me in person and asks me if I’m a fan. I was approximately 10 years ago in the pre-Gwyneth stages of Chris Martin’s life, but all good things come to an end AKA Apple and their album X&Y happened.

I caught Ibu sleeping on cement again. She managed to sleep through my screams after I saw a rat in the ceiling as I was going #2.

A little while ago I was in a parade and after my picture was taken for the 56465046512312th time, I finally started taking pictures of the people taking mine. They are probably pissed their pictures of the white girl suck, but I don’t care!