This Is Literally Renée Zellweger

You know when people are all, "This is LITERALLY the worst day of my life," when really the Starbucks barista gave them an (Ariana) grande instead of a venti (AKA A LARGE), or some shit? Well, they're using 'literally' wrong. And you probably think I'm in that same boat. Because there's no damn way that this is literally and actually Renée Zellweger.

BUT YOU'RE WRONG, BRO.

Listen, I am the first person to say that if you feel like effing around with your face, do the damn thing. I don't care. It's your face. What the hell do I care? But the fact that I thought that this was Robin Wright and Christina Applegate's first cousin is slightly problematic. And not through marriage.

RZ hasn't been in a movie since 2010, so I don't know what her life is all about. The singular thing that I do know is that her signature Zellweger squint started bumping "Since U Been Gone" and peaced out this bitch sometime in the last four years. And that I would love to get my hands on her eyebrows.

Live your life and do what you want, Renée, I just don't want to feel like this every time I see your mug.

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The Chef Too Sexy For His Shirt, And The Other Best Stories Of The Day

via buzzfeed

This all-around sexpot was fired from my hometown-area Chili's for doing generally gross shit like lying shirtless on the area where they make your Southwestern Eggrolls. How rude. He also uploaded the pictures he took of his unsanitary ass to Facebook, and created an album called "Sexy Cooks of Chili's," TAGGING THE LOCATION WHERE HE WORKED. Is it too late to use Antoine Dodson's "You are so dumb" here? Too late if it's too late. -- Buzzfeed

via daily mail

In other dude body news: A new virtual autopsy (what the eff is that?) revealed that King Tut had "girlish" hips because his parents were brother and sister. Hot. My own observation reveals that homie's alleged thorax looks like a boobless Kim Kardashian. -- The Daily Mail

via abc 7

This kook in a chute tried to get into a dude's house and ended up getting stuck in his chimney. She did this sexy Santy Claus deed after they met online, went on a handful of dates, and the house guy broke up with her. My main concern is how her hair still look so damn lustrous. On another note, dudes until the end of time will be quoting this in an argument for "bitches be crazy." Thanks, lady. But seriously, what shampoo do you use? -- abc7.com



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Make A DIY Curling Wand In 30 Seconds

Sometimes life hands you lemons. And those lemons are in the exact form of a curling iron that happens to be the perfect size, but the handle is c-blocking your hair styling flow. I love this curling iron because it's as big as a mofo and creates treasures of loose waves, but my hair is always getting yanked the hell out by the screws and springs on the clip thing-y. It's like I'm involved in a Real Housesives-esque fight every day.

So I decided to get rid of that shit. And it took 30 seconds. Here's how it works:

Use a screwdriver to remove the clip. Be careful, it kind of springs off at the end. Don't poke your eye out. While you're at it, avert your eyes from my gross nails. I'm a trash heap.

Then unscrew the spring part.

If you want, put the whole shebang in a ziploc and put it up. Who knows, you might want your OG curling iron back one day. I don't know your life.

That's it! I told you this was quick. No more hair-ripping-out-age for this beyotch.

Now you're free to...

(or whatever your flavor might be) your hair freely all up on your brand new curling wand.



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The Halloween Tutorial You've Always Wanted In Your Life: Honey Boo Boo

I'm such an old. I can't even do peace fingers the "cool" way.

Are you guys all hyped for Halloween? That shit is my favorite time of year. You can look completely ridiculous and not get one single judgey look. So I felt it necessary to do a solid Halloween tutorial.

And because I'm always on time, like Ja Rule and Ashanti, I picked Honey Boo Boo. Yes, I have a calendar.





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Hide Your Lady Flowers, Robin Thicke Is Back On The Prowl

I hate everything about this picture. You need to know that.

According to Page Six, Master Thicke (many dry heaves abound) threw himself an endlessly classy Divorce Party last Friday, where ". . . he was in great spirits, and put on a mix of music including pop, hip-hop, older stuff from the ’90s and soul. Everyone was dancing until past 3 a.m." Thanks for the playlist and sched, anonymous source of boring. Also, using the phrase "older stuff from the '90s" is troubling to my brain.

But that's not all. LEONARDO MF-ING DICAPRIO was there to assist in the popping of the bottles and whatever-ing of the models. He was probably blowing vapor ciggie smoke all up in that bitch. And you KNOW that Leo wore that damn hat. He had to. The dress code was douche casual.

Whatever, Robin. Slang that thang all over the globe and see if we care. We're all collectively too busy for your shit with preparing our Halloween costumes. I've already called being this kid, so everyone else can get off his jock, that costume is officially taken. I WROTE IT ON THE SIGN-UP SHEET.







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My Attempt At One Of Those "What's In My Bag?" Things

I'm sorry for coughing all over your face. I would have edited that shit out, but then my eyeballs were all watery, and I didn't want it to seem as if I was just emotional over a purse. I really over-explained all of that.

Anyway, here's what I keep in my purse all the time. Do things feel awkward between us now?



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I Was On Conan Last Night, And Now I'm "The Audience Lady"

I'm also a super-slutty liar, according to YouTube comments. But more on that later.

I went to Southern California this weekend. It was my fifth wedding anniversary, and my husband friggin' loves theme parks. Like, nine-year-old-kid levels of loving theme parks. I attempt to be generous of spirit for 0.0343% of my life, so I decided to go to Disneyland et al with him, even though I was all:

I was LITERALLY like this while we were there:

That's me in the blue hat, in the fetal position. Like an actual unborn baby. On a ride created for small children. I hate theme parks.

But, on a more fun note, I got some tickets to go see a taping of Conan. My husband and I have both been big fans of Conan O'Brien since he started his show in the early 90s (#weold), so I thought it would be perfect for our anniversary trip.

We decided that I should make a sign for the show, because we had the idea that maybe we would get closer seats or some shit. You know I like to get Latarian in this bitch. So this is what we came up with.

The bottom one was my husband's original sign idea. I came up with the top one, because it's effing true. Nothing really more to that short-ass story. Except that I suck a big one at drawing (writing?) a block letter 's'. In hindsight, I should have just gone for a solid one of these:

The next day, we get to the taping and get really great seats. No one even took a cursory look at my sign. I still hadn't decided which side to hold up when Conan came out of the monologue. I'm a shitty planner. Here's part of what happened next.



We had a good time with it. I got to share a few of my unique crushes (King of Breakfast, anyone?) with America. We three-way hugged Conan after the show. It was a good day.

Today, I woke up to people texting me this screenshot.

THE AUDIENCE LADY?!? Did I wake up as a matronly 74 year old? Am I Dorothy Zbornak? Did I menopause overnight? Actually, maybe. I've been having the night sweats. We'll discuss that later.

I jokingly told a friend that I would rather be called a tramp than a lady. But be careful what you wish for, and all that shit, because then came the YouTube comments. Here are some of my favorites.

Well, that escalated MF-ing quickly.

It actually wasn't. At all. Unless you mean a script in my head, where I created a moderately interesting sign on a drugstore posterboard and somehow became a writer for Conan's show. That was my brain script.

"Shit cray." Okay. Possibly.

I can be a bitch. How did you know? Are you my mom? Now for the one that hurts the most.

Screw you, "I'll just pick random numbers as my screen name" person. Screw you.



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