Friday, January 7th, 2011
How’s your life? Good? Great. I’ll be honest, I never really ‘got’ you. Sure, you’ve had some good movie roles, nothing really outstanding per say. You won an oscar for something – I can’t even remember what, which is scientific proof that it was forgettable. I do however, remember that you wore some sort of tutu to accept said Oscar, but that’s not the point. Well, it’s kind of the point, but I’ll get to that later.
Anyway, here’s the thing: you’re boring. I mean that in the nicest way possible of course, but it’s just an unescapable fact that staring us all in the face. You’re a bore. I’m sure you’re just delightful in person, perhaps even charming with a hint of self deprecating humour, but to the outside world, we need matchsticks to prop our eyes open when you appear on a screen.
I’ll tell you what hasn’t helped the situation: the fact that you married the front man of the most boring band in history, Coldplay. That did not up your cool points at all, though I’m sure the two of you bore your children into trance-like sleep with your remixed versions of traditional lullabies. That takes me to my next point Gwennie (can I call you Gwennie? I feel like we’re there now. OK, good), what is up with this whole foray into country music that you’re trying? Admittedly, I haven’t taken the time to actually listen to your country vocal croonings because a) I’m really not that interested and b) it’s you, singing country music. I mean really Gwennie, I expected more. Actually, that’s a lie, I didn’t.
You’re friends with the likes of Jay-Z and Madonna for Christ’s sake. While Madonna (well, more specifically, Madonna fans) and myself may not be on the best of terms after I made a few suggestions about how she should maybe cover her snatch at her ripe old age, I’m not so unwise as to not recognise her global appeal and relative ‘coolness’. And Jay-Z? Well, come on, he’s the king of cool. So with those two forces of nature surrounding you, I’m not sure what lead you to be so dowdy and boring, or to have a penchant for country music for that matter, none of it adds up.
What baffles me further is that whenever you step onto a red carpet, you’re deemed best dressed and while you do look nice, I dare say none of your ensembles have ever really been anything other than that, just nice.
So here’s what I suggest Gwennie – kick it up a notch. Chop the hair, dye it an outrageous colour (or you know, go brunette – we have more fun and blonde is like, so over), ditch the Uggs and mummy wear, get yourself in some killer heels, get your pins out – hell, why not take a page from your friend Madonna’s book and get some attention with a snatch flash? Just the once mind, anything more than that and you fall into Lohan territory, which would be tragic. Take a lil walk on the wild side. I’ll take anything at this point – do you curse like a sailor? Smoke the odd joint? Yell at your nanny? Look even wearing a truckload of black eyeliner on a Saturday night and smudging it would give you a bit of edge.
No need to thank me Gwennie. Seeing you develop some sort of personality will be thanks enough.
Monday, December 21st, 2009
Well, things got really crazy for me in the last quarter of 2009. Overwhelmed with the direction the world was going in (you know, global warming, financial crisis, the over-popularity of Uggs), I decided I needed to change things. So, I whipped the world into shape and I’m proud to say, as we’re about to go into 2011, everything’s looking rosy.
Me and Idris Elba are married and he’s totally cool with me seeing Elliot Stabler from Law & Order SVU, Robert Downey Jr and any man who can speak French on the side. I had it written into our wedding vows that he’d find a way to resurrect The Wire for a few more seasons, so, there’s that.
I met with world leaders to discuss energy efficiency and it was decided that rather than using central heating and such like, people should burn their Uggs to create a natural source of heat. President Obama personally gave me a terrorist fist bump of congratulations for that one.
I had a sit down with Madonna. She managed to detach her crazed fans from her balls for a sec. We have negotiated a deal whereby she will retire within the next five years. She has also agreed to wear a knee length skirt every second wednesday. This will be increased each time she adopts another African baby.
I started running masterclasses on ‘How to Dress Like a Lady.’ This was a major step forward in my ‘No Pants’ campaign (the co-founder of which is Casie Stewart). We have seen a significant drop in the number of women wearing running shoes as regular footwear, leggings, sweats, pajama pants, babydoll dresses and maternity wear on un-pregnant people.
I banned use of the word ‘comfortable’ in regards to fashion for anyone under the age of 60. It’s taking people a while to come round to this, but we have seen more women enroll in my ‘How to Walk in Heels’ classes, which is encouraging.
As part of his therapy, I slept with Tiger Woods to see what all the fuss was about. Results are still inconclusive.
I think my major achievement of 2010 was having ‘bitch slap’ and ‘motherbitch’ added to the Oxford English dictionary. Additionally, now that bitch slapping is no longer a crime (except for the 6 US States in which it is still outlawed), society has become much more tolerable. Pent up frustration is virtually a thing of the past now that you can just give anyone a swift back hand when they’re acting up.
So as you can see, my 2010 was pretty packed, trying to make the world a better place for you people.
Well, must dash. Idris is in the kitchen, naked, cooking for me and I still have to treat the third degree burns he sustained doing that last week. He’ll never learn.
Until next time, ask yourself, what did you do to change the world in 2010?
Wednesday, October 7th, 2009
Yesterday’s blog on Madonna saw me being called a ‘judgmental bitch’, a ‘cu*t’, a ‘whore’ and told to go kill myself. Mama…I’ve arrived!
I must say though, the degree of crazy I witnessed here yesterday is actually quite disturbing. I have never idolized anyone in my life and I didn’t think that anyone did past the age of 12. Unless you’re a little girl who wets her knickers over a boy band, it is wholly unacceptable to go batshit crazy in defense of someone you’ve never met before in your life.
And that’s just it you see, you don’t know Madonna and she doesn’t know or care about you. It’s one thing to be a fan of her music and her look. It’s a whole other thing to tell someone to go kill themselves because they don’t share your opinion. You don’t get a special Madonna badge of honor for such stupidity.
People seem to have missed the entire point of the post. Nowhere in there did I say Madonna is ugly. I don’t believe she is. She looks great for her age. No one can really deny that. I am fully aware that we all age and that one day, I will be 50 (unless one of these deranged Madonna fans gets to me first). But I don’t think it is ageist for me to suggest that one should perhaps try aging with some grace. As one commenter pointed out, look at Tina Turner if you need an example of still being sexy over 50. And a huge thank you to those of you who suggested that I will be a dried up, shriveled prune-like wench when I come of age. My mother is about to be 62 and looks fan-fucking-tastic. Good genes run in my family douchenozzles. I’ll be a knock out.
My point was that as a mother, dressing the way she does and gyrating around is a little cringeworthy. Just as I think it is for Britney or Christina or any of these young mothers out here doing the same thing.
Can you see the sheer hypocrisy of it all? If you saw a regular woman over-50 walking down the street dolled up as ‘mutton dressed as lamb’ as we say here in England, you would, without a shadow of a doubt, be the first to say that bitch needs to cover up.
To all of you who said ‘She’s Madonna. She can do what she wants!’ – if she were The Madonna as in, the religious figure, I would see your point. Where do we draw the line? If she kills someone should she go free on the Madonna defense? Oh, I’m sorry, was that hyperbolic? I thought that’s just how you Madonna fans roll.
I am not jealous of Madonna. She is merely not to my taste. Just because you don’t like something doesn’t mean you’re jealous of it. As a commenter pointed out, if I don’t like beef, am I jealous of cows?
For the commenter who said ‘Madonna is the most beautiful woman in the world!’ – to put Madonna before your own mother nicely displays your degree of lunacy. Kudos.
For those who said the first picture I posted of Madonna was photoshopped but don’t seem to think any other pictures you see of her are, exactly whereabouts did the special bus drop you off?
To the other commenter, who said (speaking of Madonna’s daughter): ‘Lourdes is one of the most graceful, well mannered, intelligent, talented, educated, fashion forward, respectful, happy, outgoing and emotionally balanced children I have ever observed.’ HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW?! Seriously, have you heard yourself? Get a grip.
In conclusion, if this showed anything, it showed that fanatical lunatics are not now, nor will they ever be, open to logic, reason or the other side of an argument. But if you are actually all twelve (which I’m hoping you are, as it’s the only way such spirited defense of a stranger could be excused), then maybe it’s time for milk, cookies and bedtime. Run along.
Tuesday, October 6th, 2009
Let me start by saying this: I’ve never liked you. There you have it. You’re not that great a singer and your appeal has baffled me for years. Sure, I can get down to a bit of Holiday or Papa Don’t Preach with the best of ‘em, but for the most part, your bitchiness and fake British accent irk me beyond belief.
But that’s not what I want to talk to you about today. I think it’s time we had a little chat about age appropriateness. Maybe the people around you have neglected to inform you (and you are clearly in denial of this fact yourself) that you have aged. Considerably. You now have to tick the 50+ box on forms.
And by no means am I suggesting that you should stop living life. I mean, if we’re going by the news, us mere mortals just have part time shifts at B&Q to look forward to during retirement. No, no, don’t stop what you’re doing. You just need to do it in a more age appropriate way.
Unsure what I mean? Well, the leotards need to stop. Effective immediately. We get it. You keep in shape. Merry Christmas. High five. Now kindly go put some clothes on.
You are also a mother of a soon-to-be teenage daughter. As a daughter myself, I can tell you, the last thing I would ever want to see my mother doing is this:
If you have the ability to close your legs, for the love of Christ, exercise it now. Most kids just have to hang their heads if their mothers pick them up from school in Crocs. Do you show up at your kid’s school in a leotard, legs akimbo with a microphone shoved down your pants?
Perhaps one of your assistants could introduce you to these marvelous things called ‘trousers’ or ‘knee length dresses’ – they’re a whole world of fun.
I know this advice will be life changing for you. You can send me a thank you note with a $50,000 cheque at your earliest convenience.
Thanking you in advance.
Muireann AKA Bangs.
Monday, May 5th, 2008
Recently, I have been exposed to the torture that is mainstream radio, on a daily basis. It seems like the same seven or eight songs being played on rotation, all damn day. By the time it’s gets to about 2pm, I’m ready to throw my computer out the window and smash the radio into iddy biddy pieces. However, I think there might be something in my contract about damaging work property or something – so before I unleash my rage and get my ass fired, I thought I’d share with you the songs that are working my last nerve.
Four Minutes – Madonna Featuring Justin Timberlake
The four minutes are up now Madonna. The world was not saved. Mission not accomplished. Time to go back to the lab and come up with a different way to save civilization – preferably one that doesn’t involve a Timbaland beat.
No Air – Jordin Sparks Featuring Chris Brown
‘Tell me how I’m ‘spose to breathe with no air’. Well, Ms Sparks, perhaps if you’d have stayed in school a little longer, rather than chasing dreams on American Idol, you’d have found out. You’re lucky Chris Brown is on the track. Yes, it may be bordering on illegal for me to lust after him, but frankly, if loving him is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.
Pocketful of Sunshine – Natasha Bedingfield
A pocketful of sunshine, huh Natasha? Well, I’ve got a pocketful of bitch slaps. I win. You’re still not forgiven for making that annoying little ditty which has since become the theme song for The Hills and countless commercials for everything from razors to shampoo. Surely you made enough money from that number for us to never have to hear from you again?
Bleeding Love – Leona Lewis
You seem to have been bleeding for a while now. You might want to think about getting some medical attention. Ever heard of a bandaid? Slap one of those bad boys on there and you’re good to go – you don’t need to be wailing about it constantly.
Sexy Can I – Ray J
Well Ray J, lets see – you’ve been with a plethora of women from Kim Kardashian to Whitney Houston. So, can you? With crackheads and hos, apparently, you can. Must you keep asking?
I’d like to have a few words with you, if I may. You have the social networking market in a choke hold right now. It’s understandable that you want your product to evolve. But I gotta tell you, I have a beef with your ‘people you may know’ feature.
I appreciate the heads up, but I know I may know those people and I don’t want to know them. Hence, why I have not added them as friends. So, I don’t really want to see their ugly mugs pop up every time I check my facebook. It’s a constant, daily reminder of why they suck and only serves to anger me. I’m sure there are people who feel the same way about my face peeking back at them as ‘someone they may know’ on their page.
If I want to know someone, you have already conveniently put all sorts of search features on there for me to find them. Please don’t bring those losers to my doorstep and urge me to befriend them. Trust me, I have known them and they ain’t all that.
What’s more, this feature seems to have confused some people. I have been getting relentless friend requests from people I went to high school with. Specifically, people who couldn’t stand my ass in high school. Yet they must have seen me on that damn ‘people you may know’ list and, in their desperate attempts to accumulate more friends, send me countless requests, seemingly forgetting the fact that they actually hated me 15 years ago. Forgive me for not wanting to exchange wall posts with these classy broads.
So, thanks for trying to connect me with every last living soul I may have known over the course of my existence, but I think I’m good.
Monday, February 18th, 2008
Can you please just go and have some Jay-Z babies already? We all get it – you’ve impressed it upon us for the past ten years; you have a weave, you have an ass, you have a voice (in that order). We get it. You have made your point. Ten-Four. Roger that. Over-and-Out. Seriously, get OVER yourself and get OUT. Thank you and goodnight.
Listen Justin, you either need to stop or kick it into overdrive. These intensely long gaps you leave between albums is burning my brain. You did it with the first one. After damn near two years of that being on rotation, I had zero desire to Let You Love Me or to Rock My Body. I got tired of Rockin’ My Body after a couple of months. It’s a lot of work. And you’ve done it again with this album. What Goes Around has been going around and around and around. Then you’re telling me it Comes Around? Can I get an ETA on when this will end?
Also, you’re not the savior of music my dear. The first album, you had Pharell, the second one, you had Timbaland. Shit, I could make a hit record with that team behind me. You are merely a puppet. Anything you’ve done has been done a million times already; you are just the white version. Get over yourself.
How you weren’t banished to the depths of hell after releasing ‘I’m So Lonley’ really boggles the mind. Then you had that whole crazy-dry-humping-of-a-teenager thing and Lord only knows how, but you prevailed during that controversy too. Not content with making our ears bleed with your own ‘music’, you insist on jumping all over everyone else’s tracks. Even people one assumes would have better taste, like Gwen Stefani, for example.
How do you do it Akon? What’s your secret? Your voice has a Chipmunk-esque quality to it. You should have been a one hit wonder. Could it be your looks? No, you’re painfully unattractive. Is it your deep and meaningful songs? Well, it’s unlikely ‘I Wanna F**k You’ will go down as a classic in music history (though you did really drive that point home while dry humping that teenager).
Oh, I know I’m gonna catch hell from the gays on this one, but Madonna, you’ve got to stop.
Sure, I was down with you during the ‘Holiday’ and ‘Papa Don’t Preach’ era, but you kinda lost be when you started shagging everything with a pulse. Since then, I’ve found each of your yearly, attempted reinventions equally yawn-inducing.
I think you’d be the first to admit, you’re not that great a singer and you dance like a drunken aunt at a wedding. In interviews, you come across as a completely stone cold and vapid bitch. So, what exactly is your appeal?
I can’t even watch your interviews anymore because of your fake, forced British accent. Just ‘cause you married a Brit and live in the UK doesn’t mean you have to adopt our accent. Stop embarrassing yourself.
Just out of interest, are you just injecting botox or have you switched to straight up formaldehyde? You look eerily unnatural and are starting to scare me.
So, chop chop! Retirement beckons – oh and please take those Godforsaken leotards with you on the way out.