Celebrity Weekend Round-up: Mariah Carey is still pregnant.

It's Friday, people, GET EXCITED.

People sure were excited for Friday all week at work. Remember the dry erase board artists? They struck again (sort of):

The "art" if you will accumulated slowly throughout the week. Today? GONE. All of it. I was sure I'd come in and some other clever individual would have some beautiful Friday artwork. Maybe they'd pull out the purple and yellow markers and design a Friday message so mind-blowing that we could all pack it up and immediately go home.

Instead some sourpuss erase the whole thing. Boo to you, sourpuss.

Let's celebrate this weekend with a few celebrity stories, shall we? Think of it as some virtual dry erase board art all up in your business.

First, Mariah Carey is still pregnant, and celebrated by taking some nudie pics with her husband.

Ok, so, why does it feel like Mariah Carey has been pregnant for 18 years? I expect, any day now, for US Weekly to run an article about how Mariah Carey gave birth in a bathtub full of Dom Pérignon and celebrated her twins' graduation in the same day. Cigars, birthday cake and placenta for everyone!

The pregnant body is beautiful and blah blah blah, but really? you're going to describe them as NASTY? I bet  Mariah Carey has a whole room in her mansion dedicated to hiding her embarrassing photography, including the picture where she painted her pregnant belly with a picture of a butterfly.

Mariah Carey has the cray-cray.

In reality TV news, MTV has ordered Jersey Shore spin-offs for three of the cast members. There goes the neighborhood. And by neighborhood, I mean a whole generation of teenagers.

Please join me in a rousing chorus of NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

What else, what else...Oh, Kevin Federline needs to be fixed. Seriously, whoever is telling him that continuing to procreate needs to stop. I'm thinking about putting a little donation button over on the sidebar for "Kevin Federline Vasectomy Awareness".

Some math!!

Kevin Federline + model/prettylady/popsinger = babies X 5 / 3 mommies

Now that's math I can get behind.

If Kevin Federline can have that many children with that many pretty girls, there's hope for everyone out there.

Your thoughts on any of these stories? What did I miss (besides a lot)(actually, pretty slow news week this week). Sound off!

My biggest fear has 6 legs

When I was younger, my biggest fear was failure.

I was always worried that I wouldn't be good enough, that I'd be broke, or fired, or dumped. All that equaled failure to me, and it was terrifying.

Then I got dumped. Then I graduated from college, and then graduated from college again with my Masters degree. Then I got married. Then I got laid off. So, once you've experienced a good amount of both successes and failures and realize that it's not the end of the world when you do fail and that you CAN succeed, it's time to get a new biggest fear.

Around that time we moved to Florida, and a terrifying new world opened to me: a world with lots of legs, antennae and pre-historic looking exoskeletons.

The world of roaches.

Now, nothing in this world frightens me as much as cockroaches. Lizards? Love em. Mice? I mean, not my favorite but whatever. Snakes? Please stay away, but I am only mildly scared.

When I see a cockroach, I scream like I'm being stabbed with a butter knife, and it's not just one scream, it's a long, drawn out, "there-is-a-serial-killing-clown-in-our-garage-please-someone-help" scream. I run and slam doors. I refuse to step foot in our garage where they love to chill near the trash can. Sometimes I scream at the thought of them being there. If they are in the house FOR-GET it. I will have a panic attack on your ass, TRUST ME.

Back in WV it seems like we had an ant problem every spring, and as much as they grossed me out, I always sort of felt sorry for them. They were just harmless babies of the insect world, trying to find a delicious meal of cereal or rice to take back to their queen. And good on them for picking up that giant piece of cat food that's 14 billion times their size and carrying it all the way back to their nest.

But cockroaches? To me, cockroaches are a sign of dirty-ness and living in squalor. Cockroaches are scavengers and harbingers of disease.

And they are also apparently all around and COMPLETELY NORMAL. One of my co-workers has them in her mailbox, so when she opens it they scatter and then she reaches in and gets her mail. OVER MY DEAD BODY would I EVER get the mail again. I'd be all, credit card companies, sorry, but you're just going to have to wait for my payment because the cockroaches are currently holding my mail hostage with their tiny little feet and 18 kneecaps. Sick.

Apparently there is nothing you can do -- they are just a part of life down there in the dirty South (is THAT why it's called the dirty South??). I was talking about (what I believe to be) our cockroach infestation and what we were planning on doing to about it and my work friend said, "well good luck with that. Nothing helps. They'll leave in the winter."


O.M.G.

Here is a chart to express my hatred of cockroaches:

TRUE STORY ALERT: This weekend I was home alone, right? And so I was getting ready to shower before bed, took my contacts out, turned the water on and noticed  A GIANT COCKROACH on the wall above the shower. I called my husband and was sobbing about this darn cockroach because what am I supposed to do? It's my biggest fear COME TO LIFE and staring me in the face. I asked him to come home from his conference, but when he told he he couldn't do that, I had him walk me step by step through the process of killing the cockroach dead. It included multiple steps, starting with "throw a magazine at it" and "hit it with a shoe".


Then after I killed it, I put on my glasses and discovered it was actually a beetle.


IT COULD HAVE BEEN A COCKROACH, you guys. You have to be diligent about those nasty things.


According to British researchers at the University of Nottingham's School of Veterinary Medicine and Science, cockroaches could be the key to fending off harmful, drug-resistant bacteria (DO NOT CLICK ON THIS IF YOU ARE TERRIFIED OF COCKROACHES OR GROSSED OUT BY BUGS).

I'm sorry, but e coli is one billion and a half times better than cockroaches.

What is your biggest fear? Do you hate insects? What do you think is worse than cockroaches?

Let's discuss this situation again, shall we?

On Friday I wrote a post defining the word asshat. I think I need to revisit this topic, even though talking about the Jersey Shore really gives me a creepy restless legs syndrome type feeling. 

This picture has to be a sign of the Apocalypse. 

Firstly, it turns out that the Situation himself, Mr. Mike Sorrentino, PHD, Esquire, President of the Misogynists of America club, man about town, did not actually follow my husband on Twitter. It's actually a fan of Mike Sorrentino who just tweets about his performance on Dancing With the Stars. I wish there was more to that story and trust me, I tried. I followed the person myself and attempted to bait her with derogatory comments about DWTS but alas, nothing. It's really disappointing, but the good, Twitter news is that Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus are now following me on Twitter, so get your Christmas wishes and dreams into my comments section ASAP.

Secondly, I'd like to delve in a little deeper to the nickname "the Situation". There are things that can be considered a situation and other things that are not so much a situation.

SITUATION: Some baked beans that have been sitting in your fridge for about a month and a half and have become a really disgusting science experiment.. Neither you nor your husband have the iron clad fortitude to dump out the beans into the trash and clean the Tupperware, and at the same time are so committed to your Tupperware that you don't want to just toss it. Thus, a situation.

NOT A SITUATION: Mike Sorrentino's abdominal muscles.

SITUATION: Being 8 months pregnant and not being able to physically roll over in bed without substantial effort, and then you realize your phone is in the other room, so the options are to use every last ounce of energy and effort to get the phone or play "When will my phone die?" all day the next day. Thus, a situation.

NOT A SITUATION: Mike Sorrentino's "little Mike Sorrentino" if you catch my drift. 

SITUATION: You're an investment banker who lost his job and now has to deliver pizzas for Papa Johns.You're driving down the street and realize something.....is missing....and that's when you realize you dropped the pizza hot bag or whatever it's call, WITH a pizza, in the middle of a busy intersection AT rush hour, and have to park your car in traffic, sprint 500 yards in your Papa John's shirt and visor, pick up the pizza and hope nobody realizes that you screwed up probably the easiest job in the world. Thus, a situation that I actually witnessed yesterday after work.

NOT A SITUATION:  Relying on your quickly fleeing and questionable "good looks" to pick up women instead of having a personality in any way, shape or form. 

OMG look what I found in my search for some Mike Sorrentino pictures on Google  Machine!

Epic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The phrase "What situation, exactly?" has blown up like WILDFIRE on the Interwebs (and, I'd like to believe helped me get promoted in the nerd mafia). I'd like you to just try it on for size. Let it burn into your brain like so many STDS burn up the urethra's of the Jersey Shore folks. It fits almost all situations. See what I did there? Some examples:

AT WORK: "Shoot." "What's the situation, exactly?" "My fax won't go through."

WHILST WATCHING TV: "Who do you want to be kicked off DWTS?" "I want the situation to be that The Situation gets kicked off." *which is an actual conversation my sister and I just had via text*

I'm sure y'all can think of more.

BIG BLOGWORTHY NEWS. Thursday, get ready for a first on this site....my first sponsored, coast-to-coast, taste test VLOG. That's right, a vlog. I had to wait for a good hair day before I committed to that mess. Get READY to taste it!

Bet your local news is better than mine

Today I'm going to talk about asshats.

The people you see daily who wear their asses for a hat.

I'm sure you guys see them every day at work, at the grocery store, whilst sitting in traffic. Maybe even sometimes at your own home when your husband won't UNLOAD THE DISHWASHER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD THERE ISN'T SOME MAGIC DISHWASHING FAIRY THAT DOES IT.

Ahem.

This post is to help us better define what it means to be an asshat.

Gross

You know who is a big ol asshat? Lindsay Lohan. Really Lindsay, you couldn't make it to 30 days of sobriety before you failed a drug test. I don't know who on earth she's paying off, but I don't think I've ever seen a person, celebrity or not, who have ruined as many chances as she has. She's like a cat with 9 lives. The latest is after she failed the drug test she was out boozin' it up with her paid friends -- I mean, assistants -- and Tweeted about how sorry she was for letting everyone down and how she wanted to take full responsiblity. But not full responsibility for actually crafting the message, because according to US Weekly (which as you know NEVER gets anything wrong), her assistants helped her write it instead of her team of publicists, which begs the question, what exactly is she paying them for?

Asshats are people who have multiple assistants, yet have no discernible responsibilities or job. And giggle while they are confessing to failing a drug test.

Gross.

Last night Hubby and I were getting ready to go to bed and he checked his phone one last time. Smart phones are a blessing and a curse. I was half asleep and I hear him say WOAH!

Hub: "The Situation" is following me on Twitter. I followed a bunch of people from  Dancing With the Stars [TIME OUT here: he claims he does not enjoy Dancing With the Stars, but tell me then, why is it he'd follow them on the twat, hmmm? A mystery for another day.]
Me: He's probably one of those people who follow everyone who follows him.
Hub: I didn't follow him though. I followed others but not him because he's stupid.

So basically "The Situation" sought my husband out on Twitter for what reason...so he could get one more follower? Something stinks here, and I don't think it's Axe Body Spray and vodka...smells like...desperation.

Let's talk for one moment about "The Situation" and his nickname. Dude, your name is Michael. Mike. Let's get real, Mike: nobody created that name for you -- YOU made up your OWN nickname and it doesnt' even make sense.

My blog friends have amazing nicknames. BBCD? That makes sense. Random Blogette? That makes sense. Chicken? That makes sense.

But "The Situation"? What situation, exactly? Is it his abs? His tan? His hair? I don't understand. Am I too old to understand? Maybe his situation is how terribly he treats women. Now that would make sense.

*Breaking news!  Apparently it is not the REAL "The Situation" but a "The Situation" imposter! well he's still an asshat if for no other reason that that ridiculous nickname. Definition updated to reflect this news.*

An asshat is also someone who creates a lame nickname for himself and then follows random people in a desperate attempt to increase his Twitter followers and thus his quickly ticking 15 minutes of fame.

Then, locally, there is a TV station who basically hires students all the live long day to stink up the place with their terrible reporting and inability to use a professional camera. It's like a comedy that is always renewed and never goes on summer hiatus. We were watching the other night and two things were notable:

1. One of the anchors not only has a severe case of bitchface, but also has recently gotten extensions. Let's just say that HD does not treat this lady well. You could hang a hammock in her frown lines and sit a spell. She clearly hates her co-anchor -- think Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy after they break up (and if you haven't seen it, what's wrong with you? go rent it now!) So anyway, sisterfriend had short hair and then suddenly the next day it's 6 inches longer. Lady -- you are on TV. We can see the change. Horse hair in HD is not a good look for you. You ain't no spring chicken.
   
2. The sports DIRECTOR is like, 14 years old. Or at least he looks 14 years old. Now I am thankful for good genes that make me look a little younger than I really am; however, I ain't no director of nothing. This guy looked like yesterday he was downing a bottle of formula and rocking quietly in a baby swing and then today put on his big boy pants and became sports director. It's like he crawled out of the womb with a microphone in his hand and on to the terrible set made of cheap Plexiglas, silver spray paint and dreams. The worst part is that he didn't have the fainest idea what was going on. I'm shocked he doesn't just wander around the set interviewing the desk or something.

An asshat is someone who goes for the cheap extensions even though her livelihood is in high-definition. And also someone who gets a promotion even though he is basically an infant. 


Actually, maybe I'm just a little jealous of that last one.


How do you define asshat?

This post has been a part of Word Up, Yo!, a vocabulary meme. Go play along!

Who wants to watch TV with me

My hubby went on a baseball trip this weekend with some friends. While he's gone, I like to watch stuff he doesn't like. Here are some random, snarky thoughts I had whilst watching some of my guilty pleasures:

Intervention

• QUIT GIVING HIM MONEY.
• Clearly, it's not so much your son's drug problem that's making you poor so much as the $100,000 you've lost on the slot machines.

Friends

• The best thing about the first season this show is the plethora of bibbed overalls.
• You can tell it's 1995 because 1) they are super excited about Monica's pager and 2) Rachael runs straight up to the gate to tell Ross she loves him and if that took place in 2010, they'd stop her faster than you can say 'that pretty girl is a terrorist!'

Jersey Shore

• Is there something wrong with these people? There is NO way they act this rambunctious in real life.
• They make HOW MUCH per episode?
• My, my, my, Snookie is just effervescent.
• How much does Miami hate this, I wonder.
• I wish there would be a Very Special Episode of  Intervention staring the entire cast of Jersey Shore as the people being intervened. 
• Seriously, I sort of want to put Snookie in my pocket and bring her out just when I need a giggle.

E! True Hollywood Story

• Aw. Kendra's alright. Just a wife and Mom who made some interesting  and unique decisions in life.
• WHY AM I CRYING OVER THE KENDRA E! THS?
• A Charlie Sheen E!THS right after Kendra's E!THS? It's my lucky day!
• Hey! I didn't know Charlie Sheen dated Kelly Preston!

Project Runway

• I wonder how many Frostys Heidi Klum had while she was pregnant. My guess would be -10.
• Maybe I should buy a sewing machine and make my own clothes....
• Oh for crying out loud, quit sobbing about being sent home SECOND.  Your clothes were crappy anyway. God, I haven't seen this many tears on a reality show since the Bachelor.