Just Sayin'a tumblelog

molls:

Dearest Kathy Griffin,

Can we talk?

OK, so first of all, I kind of love you. Let me explain: Watching your comedy is akin to the feeling one might experience when sitting around wearing a maxi pad they haven’t changed in eight hours. It’s incredibly uncomfortable, while simultaneously comfortable. I hate the thought of bleeding on to a hunk of cotton, but I also hate the idea of facing that cotton and then replacing it with a new hunk of cotton. That analogy might be a little fuzzy, but you’ll have to excuse me because I haven’t used maxi pads in over a decade. Trust me, though. It’s like that. Watching you is like wearing a dirty maxi pad, but in a good way. Kind of.

I appreciate you, Kathy Griffin. Here’s why: You are difficult to like most of the time, but you made it. Come hell or high water, you fucking made it. You are an example of Los Angeles Darwinism at work. You give faith to anyone who’s ever waited outside a literal or metaphorical back door, waiting to sneak in so you could then sneak in to another back door which would bring you to a third back door, which maybe eventually leads you to a side door and then finally, at last, a front door that still has an 80% chance of rejecting you, but at least your name was on the list. And when making it in the front door no longer seemed to be an option, you accepted that as your role and then came up with something that put your name at the top of all those lists that you were at the bottom of before. That’s impressive. I don’t give a fuck if anyone out there disagrees or thinks I’m crazy for thinking this way: I think the way Kathy Griffin has managed her career is fucking artwork.

All that aside, there’s really something that you need to hear, and frankly, I’m sure I’m not the first person to say this, but maybe you’ll listen to me: You need to learn how to match your blacks.

Someone in your life has done you wrong. In fact, I would assume several people have done you wrong in order for this to keep happening. You have all these “gays” your constantly talking about, so why the fuck don’t any  of them hold a light over your stage outfit before your shows so you can see that your black slacks are a completely different color than your black top? Where are your gays when you’re trying to match a summer black with a winter black?

In fact, some of your black tops are much more navy than they are black. Have you not a decent set of lights in your rich person closet? Have you not a more colorful top or bottom choice? I know, I know: You’re doing the “all black outfit for your TV comedy special” thing, but it’s not working. Instead of slenderizing you, it’s making you look sloppy. Kind of like a part-time cater waiter who refuses to sink the cash in to an appropriate matching black outfit and is instead just wearing whatever old black top and pants you have. You can do better, Kathy. You are better than your outfits.

I watched your new special tonight, Kathy. Well, the first half an hour but then I accidentally passed out. You did a better job this time. It seems to have come to your attention, this black issue, and you seem to be trying. I applaud you for that. However, I think you really need to rethink your entire approach. I would hope that you’re spending your money on new outfits for these specials. I would hope you’re not wearing something that’s already been washed or dry cleaned and therefore the color is undoubtedly altered from its original shade. I would hope you’re buying the same brand of tops and pants for these shows so the chances of your shades matching are better.

Here’s the next step: You know how Barbara Streisand has Donna Karan make her all those cream colored pieces? You notice how from piece to piece the shades of cream DON’T CHANGE? You should consider having someone do that for you. I am sure that there are one million gays in your herd who would be more than happy to tailor you a two piece outfit out of the same fabric. And you know what? You’d probably get it for free. Don’t you love that, Kath? I don’t just come with criticisms. I have solutions for you.

OK. Hope you’re not mad. I’m sure you’re reading this. I think you’re funny, in a used maxi pad kind of way. I know that sounds really awful, but trust me, it’s actually the nicest thing I ever said.

Love,

Molls

So true Molls!  I’ve always thought the same thing.  What’s the deal with the mismatched blacks?  She spends bundles on plastic surgery and she can’t figure her blue blacks from her grey blacks (from her faded blacks) and also: what’s the deal with her circa 1990’s bulky platform doc martin/john fluevog boots?  C’mon Kathy…your black stage uniform needs some help.  Take it.  (but don’t forget, you’re hard to love, but we like the punishment!)

I live 7 blocks from where these two met! The story is really quite an odd/interesting/train wreck…I think they’re still together with 2 kids! AND one was conceived while she was still incarcerated on some sort of prisoner pass! (They got caught in a parked car not too far from here…no shit.) Mary Kay was the 1st of many leacherous-lady-teachers who now have become commonplace (click on the picture for a link to others)…but I have to admit, at the time, I thought it was almost funny…she was kinda the first. Really though, she did molest Villie (Villy?) (he was in 5th grade when they started “getting close”) and then she “fell in love” with a 12 year old and decided to leave her husband and 5(?) kids. Crazy shit that Mary Kay… you just can’t make up stuff like that.

heyitsnoah:

Beware the Underpants Gnomes

These gnomes run a vending machine cartel in Japan …crafty (& wealthy) little guys.

Let’s move to Turkey and eat all day!

heyitsnoah:

Obesity and the Fastness of Food - Economix Blog - NYTimes.com

semisetadrift:

letselliott:

beccaginns:

obviously a sewing kit brings all the boys to the yard.