It’s Easter, and because I’m a) a bad mother, b) a bad daughter, and c) a bad Catholic I’m not celebrating. I don’t have the emotional strength to even buy a freaking Easter basket for my poor neglected children. Instead, I’m blogging. Aren’t you lucky.
I’ve been kicking around the idea of adding a new category to Deadpan called “Celebrities Must Die,” and today seems like just the right day to launch. This category will be devoted to stories about celebrities, the stupid things they say and do, and why they should be killed. You might ask yourself, is Wanda openly encouraging violence against famous people who should not be breathing the air? In a word, yes.
Today’s celebrity is Gwyneth Paltrow.
First, a little background. Lately I’ve been in a huge tizzy over the state of my life. As you know, I am a working mom. I’m a manager at my company which pretty much means I’m a mom at work too. All day long I listen to people whine and complain and act like they couldn’t possibly take a dump without my express written permission. Basically, I spent $60,000+ dollars on my education so I could be a glorified babysitter. Sometimes my (real) kids are asleep when I leave in the morning and they’re asleep when I get home, which sucks. I have no time for anything except eating, sleeping, commuting and screaming at people. Oh, and blogging so someone will discover my mad writing skills and hire me so I can work from home. That hasn’t happened yet.
This morning while standing at the sink over a week’s worth of dirty dishes and thinking about the 3 weeks worth of laundry I hadn’t done yet I suddenly realized I couldn’t take it anymore. I decided to cry for about 45 minutes, which seriously cut into my chore time and made me cry harder. This of course led to a spirited discussion with Mr. Rizzuto about how we could manage living on one income and still, you know, eat.
All this because someone decided that women could have a family and a career. Only nobody said anything about the guilt you would feel when you’re so tired that you forget to bathe or give your kid a dollar for the school bake sale. Or that stay-at-home mothers would hate you for being a working mother and working mothers would hate you if they knew you were thinking about staying home.
So, you can imagine what went through my mind when I read this crapola about Ms. Paltrow. She’s putting her “career” on hold so she can be a full-time mom. It’s all about the kids, didn’t you know. Alert the media. Oh wait, someone already did, because us poor slobs couldn’t possibly go another second without knowing what the crap Gwyneth Paltrow was going to do next. You’d think she’d learn to keep her mouth shut after getting slammed a few years back over this piece of brilliance:
“There are certain women in this business who have children and I just think, ‘You must never, never see them.'”
Gwyn? Sweetie? Get fucked. Get fucked until you bleed.
Listen bitch, when I want parenting advice from a vacant actress who’s never gotten up off of her bony, lily-white ass to do an honest day’s work in her life I’ll call you. OK? Go tell someone who cares. Go tell your nanny, who for some reason you just had to have even though you’re the most perfect stay-at-home, put your nasty celebrity ass on a pedestal mother in the whole gd history of womanhood. Go tell your mom. In the meantime I’ll be here trying to eliminate $700 out of my monthly budget, $20 at a time, because working suckers like me have to think about things like property taxes and car insurance. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you?
Gwyneth, because you look like a nice girl and it isn’t really your fault everyone has blown smoke up your ass your whole life and acted like what you say means something to someone, I’m gonna do you a solid. The next time someone asks you a question about…well, anything, but particularly about anything important, here’s what you should say (and please feel free to use it as many times as you like):
“I don’t know. I’m just a stupid, worthless, do-nothing waste of life. Evolution will eventually naturally select my genes into oblivion. Why don’t you ask Wanda or any of the other billions of real people that might actually understand your question!”
You’re welcome. Fucking bitch.
Editorial note: I know this made almost no sense. I apologize. I’m kinda tight right now.