As I’ve mentioned in past years, bloggers are required to create a gratitude list each November. I think it’s written in the Affordable Care Act (somewhere between “quagmire” and “socialism”). Here are the things I’m grateful for this year:
- My address doesn’t include the words “Syria,” “Juarez,” or “Detroit.”
- I wasn’t involved in a sex scandal. (I wanted to be, but couldn’t make it happen.)
- American Horror Story. Specifically Jessica Lange. Oh, and Kathy Bates. And Angela Bassett.
- Shaving cream.
- Lady Gaga overcoming her debilitating shyness.
- Denny’s bacon menu.
- CAPTCHA security codes. (I feel like a secret agent typing the indecipherable letters/numbers.)
- Dogs with happy, waggy tails.
- The NSA set up shop in my backyard. Now I can feel safe.
- Movie theater popcorn.
- Miley Cyrus taught us how to appropriately appreciate demolition equipment.
(Thank you, sledgehammer.)
- My city has not been used in a headline with the words “typhoon,” “hurricane” or “Anthony Weiner.”
- Dennis Rodman is our ambassador to North Korea.
- Pie. Any kind of pie.
- San Diego.
- Kim Kardashian finally found true love. Again.
- Swear words.
Give a dog a bone, and he chews it until it’s a messy, pulpy, disgusting pile of goo. Which he then swallows. Give the media a scandal, and they’ll do the same thing. Is the media just lazy, or are celebrities too easy to talk about? Either way–enough, folks!!
I don’t want to hear another WORD about any of these people(s):
- Miley Cyrus: I get it. She’s a dirty whore. Guess what? She doesn’t care. Let’s move on.
- Kris Jenner (aka, The Kardashian Kommandant): She had a talk show? She’s a tight-faced control-freak? Her daughters are tramps? Not news.
- Paula Deen: She lived in the South. She made a mistake. She apologized. NEXT!
- One Direction: Just ’cause.
(All they need is Ego and Super-Ego. Oh, wait. . . )
- Lady Gaga: What?? She did something crazy? She wore a see-through parachute with Converse high-tops? That’s like saying Alaska was cold last winter.
- Beyoncé/J-Lo (because they’re interchangeable): Beyoncé swinging her (daughter?) Clinging Blue Ivy at the park. Beyoncé getting mobbed by fans. Beyoncé’s hot-body advice. Beyoncé’s hot-fashion advice. How ’bout not?
- Congressmen: Professional re-speakers, they haven’t had an original thought in decades.
- Reality Show Judges: Don’t watch. Don’t care.
(I might watch if Judge Judy was an American Idol judge.)
- Justin Bieber: Maybe he and Miley can get together and out-disgust each other.
- Lindsay Lohan: Drug-addled Disney teen who lost her way. I sense a theme.
- Taylor Swift: If I watch another awards show where I see the camera cut to Taylor for her every reaction, I will throw a shoe at the screen. And then I’ll be angry ’cause I broke my TV.
- Jennifer Aniston: Married? Single? Pregnant? Upset? Stripping? Vegetarian? Really, people. Don’t you have a life?
I also don’t want to see anyone’s baby bump, plastic surgery scars, fashion mistakes, ultrasounds, blood tests results, tongues, shocking hair cuts/colors, paternity tests, or anyone’s “private hell” or “drop-50-pounds-fast” starvation routine. I call “uncle.”