Archive for the ‘teh stoopid’ Category


wherein disses my akaWedding

May 13, 2008

my akaWedding has been officially dubed a “cocktail party reception with no motherfucking ceremony”. and like any good citizen of the information age, i’ve used the interwebs a lot to help me with planning. from invitation wording, to food budgeting, to music, the world wide web is chock full of great ideas. with pictures!

for those who don’t know, the is the premiere tube destination for “couples seeking information and services to help plan their weddings and their future lives together”. gag me, right. but they are a resource nonetheless. and i was pleasantly surprised to find them at the top of a google search for “cocktail party reception with no motherfucking ceremony”.

the pleasantness ended there as we shall see below…

If you’re looking for a classy, low-cost, low-stress option, a cocktail reception may be for you. This type of reception focuses on hors d’oeuvres — either all stationary or passed, or some stationary and some passed — instead of a full meal, and guests stand and chat holding small, snack-laden plates while trying to balance their wine glasses.

the article starts off fairly well, with a complement if you will, by stating that a reception of this nature can be “classy”. i like classy and it is the most often used adjective when describing what i want my akaWedding to be. but “low-cost” and “low-stress”? not so much. and not the first insult theknot will throw my way.

i mean, i hardly think it nice to insinuate, in the first paragraph, that my guests will be holding “small” plates and uncomfortably balancing their drinks. any good cocktail party aficionado worth their weight in free booze knows you get drinks first, then scope a proper place for them, then, leaving your boyfriend to stand guard of said drinks, make your way to the food where you balance three plates of which one is for snacking off of on the way back to the above mentioned free booze. maybe i’ve been to a few too many cocktail parties in my day.  or maybe, DUH!

Because this type of reception isn’t an ideal format for the standard scheduled wedding events (bouquet toss, first dance) it may feel more like a party than a wedding reception. But if that’s what you’re after, this may be the perfect choice.

actually, there will be standard scheduled wedding events, namely champagne toast, first dance, dollar dance (we’re paying for the shit ourselves, people!), some roasting, cake cutting, and strippers. okay, maybe not strippers, but shit, theknot, good to know i have a “choice” other than stuffy ass sit down dinner and bouquet toss.

i also love their tips on timing and type of food. apparently, guests expect a “full meal” if your reception is between 6 and 10 p.m. the akaWedding is scheduled from 6:30 until whenever they kick us out (likely 11 for those who care but an afterparty is inevitable, trust). and, get this, i have to have forks if seafood ravioli is on the menu. you don’t say!  i mean, how insulting.  i’m not four.  i know what a fork is.

lastly, and the biggest fail in my book, doesn’t know my friends:

Keep in mind…[at this type of reception] guests may drink more than they would at a full meal, so liquor costs may be higher.

full meal or not, my peeps can drink. one of the many reasons why i love them so dearly.

is there no one out there in wedding planning world who understands that we’re dong it this way because WE WANT TO? because we think our friends and family will enjoy it more? because it’s not a “wedding” it’s a “cocktail party reception with no motherfucking ceremony”? it’s a celebration bitches [grab a drink, grab a glass, after that I grab yo ass]!


contradiction of the day

February 19, 2008

virago \vuh-RAH-go; vuh-RAY-go\, noun:
1. A woman of extraordinary stature, strength, and courage.
2. A woman regarded as loud, scolding, ill-tempered, quarrelsome, or overbearing.


so? which is it?


Ann Coulter: Man Hater

October 4, 2007


If we took away women’s right to vote, we’d never have to worry about another Democrat president. It’s kind of a pipe dream, it’s a personal fantasy of mine, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. And it is a good way of making the point that women are voting so stupidly, at least single women.

It also makes the point, it is kind of embarrassing, the Democratic Party ought to be hanging its head in shame, that it has so much difficulty getting men to vote for it. I mean, you do see it’s the party of women and ‘We’ll pay for health care and tuition and day care — and here, what else can we give you, soccer moms?’

The story here isn’t that Coulter is bashing women or the Democratic Party, that’s par for the course for with good ol’ Ann. The more interesting notion is that she’s men bashing. Men should take Coulter’s comments as an insult to their masculinity. To suggest all men are Republicans is absurd. Moreover, to suggest that men who consider health care, education and child care worthy cultural and political values are stupid or shameful is seriously degrading.  She obviously hates men.


Dear Jenna,

October 2, 2007



I was going to wait to write more on this once the transcript materialized in the SoT, but here I am…fuming. I happened to catch the interview this morning before work and again while I was home for lunch. What luck, right?

The gist is that dear Jenna is on a book tour. Apparently she volunteered with UNICEF and has written a fictional novel based on the life of one of the children she met while in Latin America. So interviewer Ann Curry is asking about her courageous work with UNICEF and the awful things she must have seen while teaching in third world countries and blah blah.

And then, of course, the interview turns to the fact that Jenna is GDub’s daughter. And, Oh My Fucking God, she gets all goddamn misty eyed and shaky chinned over all the disapproval her Paw gets for his “word mix-ups”. Yes folks, the whole world hates our President because of his “word mix-ups”.

She says, whimpering, that she tries not to watch the news so she doesn’t have to hear the criticism. Jenna then goes on to say that sure, she and her family discuss The Iraq, but those conversations should be private.

Excuse me?! At this point ya just wanna go for the pencils and live out your remaining years with bloody eye sockets.

Let me get this straight, dear Jenna, you are keeping quiet about this and this and THIS because it hurts your fee fees? You should be ashamed.


Home of teh stoopid

September 10, 2007


“Do you think Saddam Hussein was personally involved in the September 11th, 2001, terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon?”

Yes 33
No 58

Ex-squeeze me? Baking Powder?  A freekin’ third of those polled still believe Saddam was personally involved in 911! After so much evidence to the contrary!!  Are these folks living in a basement smoking rat droppings all the live long day or what!?!?  And I thought my Uncle was the only batshit crazy human left with the ability buy that bullshit (and try to sell it to others with a straight face). 

The Dumbfuck.  It burns, I tell ya, it burrrrnnnns!

On top of this, as my friend G. just pointed out, we have people trying to explain why “x” number of American’s can’t find the US on a map by saying it’s “cuz they don lik no readin’ in thu Irak”.

America.  Home of teh stoopid. 


What will they think of next?

September 5, 2007

What.The.Fuck. [sorry, the link is no more, but trust me.  it’s vile.]

Scented underwear?  First of all, they’re big, ugly, wedgie inducing grannie panties the color of what sometimes comes up after too many glasses of Shiraz.  And I don’t care if they come in a “thong” version, although I prefer thong underwear, they look super uncomfortable.  For reasons mostly related to utility I would never ever wear underwear that looks like that.  Secondly, um…excuse me…did you say SCENTED?!  I don’t care that the description claims that these panties were designed by two women.  Only a man would come up with something like this.  I don’t know any woman who would choose to walk around with a dryer sheet rubbing against her squishy pink parts.  Unless it was to impress a man.  Talk about reinforcing the patriarchy.  I mean, Holy Shit!  Call the Pussy Police ’cause my vag smells like VAG.

Am I the only one who thinks this is absurd?