Friday, September 24, 2010

Let's Talk About Matt Damon on 30Rock Last Night


He was on it. He is a pilot and he dates Liz. Liz is conflicted about being with. Uh-huh. And she wants to break up with him because he cried. Or something. Anyway...

I do not posses the powers to suspend my disbelief enough so much that I find it even slightly believable that any woman would not be going batshtfucking crazy over the fact that she gets to nail Matt Damon. Pilot Matt Damon. Let me tell you how stupidly unbelievable this is. I have a few reserve sexual fantasies, that I only pull out for very, very special occasions. I do not allow myself to fantasize about these scenarios very often, because I do not want to dampen the effect. It's only for very, very, very special moments...like when I beat jury duty or figure out my neighbor's WiFi password. One involves Pirate Johnny Depp, another involves a young Harrison Ford and a very complex international spy and time travel plot...but at the very top of that special reserve go-to sex fantasy is Pilot Matt Damon. I'm supposed to believe she's put off because he cries a little? Please. If I came and found him masturbating to videos of monkeys having sex, I wouldn't care because PILOT MATT DAMON.

--RR

Let's Talk About Matt Damon on 30Rock Last Night


He was on it. He is a pilot and he dates Liz. Liz broke up with him because he cried. Or something. Anyway...

I do not posses the powers to suspend my disbelief enough so much that I find it even slightly believable that any woman would not be going batshtfucking crazy over the fact that she gets to nail Matt Damon. Pilot Matt Damon. Let me tell you how stupidly unbelievable this is. I have a few reserve sexual fantasies, that I only pull out for very, very special occasions. I do not allow myself to fantasize about these scenarios very often, because I do not want to dampen the effect. It's only for very, very, very special moments...like when I beat jury duty or figure out my neighbor's WiFi password. One involves Pirate Johnny Depp, another involves a young Harrison Ford and very complex international spy and time travel plot...but at the very top of that special reserve go-to sex fantasy is Pilot Matt Damon. I'm supposed to belief she's put off because he cries a little? Please. If I came and found him masturbating to videos of monkeys having sex, I wouldn't care because PILOT MATT DAMON.

--RR

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Beyonce, let me help you out.



The Poetry of Beyonce:

"Why don't you love me? Tell me, baby, why don't you love me, when I make me so damn easy to love?...I got beauty, I got class, I got style, and I got @ss. And you don't even care to care. I even put money in the bank account, don't have to ask no one to help me out, you don't even notice that...Tell me, baby, why don't you love me??"



I'm going to have say it's probably because you're a demanding, self-absorbed megalomaniac. But hey, I could be wrong, you know.

RR

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Video of the Day


EMBED-Kid Accidentally Shoots Dad's AK-47 Indoors - Watch more free videos


Aww that's so cute, he thinks he's people.


RR

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Rebecca Rose likes Papa John's; cuts own hair


21 QUESTIONS With Rebecca Rose

Name: Rebecca Rose

Age: I WILL CUT YOU. GO AHEAD. ASK AGAIN.

Neighborhood: Wherever the road takes me, man.

Occupation: Writer and blogger.


Who's your favorite New Yorker, living or dead, real or fictional? Remember that Korean boy who moved his furniture on the subway? I might have to go with him.


What's the best meal you've ever eaten in San Diego? This Saturday night, I watched “Cops” and split a large Papa John’s Cheeseburger Pizza with my dog, Charlie. He likes the cheesy-breadypart.

In one sentence, what do you actually do all day in your job? Try not to drink.


Would you live here on a $35,000 salary? Does that include the money I would steal from boyfriends/co-workers/church donation basket?


What's the last thing you saw on the beach? My underwear stuck to a jellyfish.

Do you give money to panhandlers? Dude, I AM a pandhandler. Seriously. Do you have a few bucks you could lend me?

What's your drink? I like vodka. The good stuff. Which is expensive. So how about those few bucks, eh?

How often do you prepare your own meals? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

What's your favorite medication? OK there is this special new strain out right now, but it is very, very hard to get your hands on. It is called the Magic White Turtle Skunk Queen. You cannot get this anywhere but from this one dude Ronnie. Ronnie lives out in Ramona. Ramona is a shithole. Anyway, you knock on the door and say “I have the pickles for Mr. Gregson”. You have to go to the backyard and sit in the blue chair. Now don’t worry, only one of his dogs bites. I forget which one. So anyway, you sit in the chair and Ronnie’s uncle will pull the shade in the back window up. And then…wait, did I mention you’re supposed to wear a San Jose Sharks hat? You know what, just email me for rest of it.

What's hanging above your sofa? I do not own a fucking sofa.

How much is too much to spend on a haircut? I cut my own hair, with a razor.

When's bedtime? When the vodka kicks in.

Which do you prefer, the old Times Square or the new Times Square?
DUDE. Somebody told me in this Times Square, they have a McDonalds…where they you can get soup. SOUP. In the summer. FTW, how do you beat that.

What do you think of Donald Trump? This is the worst question ever asked.

What do you hate most about living in San Diego? That Ronnie’s house is so far.

Who is your mortal enemy? NATALIE PORTMAN. BITCH.

When's the last time you drove a car?
About 5 minutes ago. Last weekend, I drove my car to a restaurant that was next to my apartment. Don’t give me shit, if we walked we would have been turned away, because the maitre di would have thought we were “bums”…because the only people who walk anywhere here are homeless…like real nasty, strung out on meth homeless, because even the homeless in SoCal at least stay on the trolley or a bus, because walking is just that bad.

How has the Wall Street crash affected you? I have been able to maintain at least 40% of the change I had saved in the ashtray of my car. So I’m totally good.


Times, Post, or Daily News?
I do not trust mainstream news. I follow a certain blog that requires password verification and surrendering your passport to access it. It is run by a former Vietnam vet who was part of a secret black-ops covert squadron that ran covert missions for the CIA and also he used to work for a Shoney’s. He has very important information about things that the media deems too “controversial” to touch like how Demi Lovato is a Mossad agent, and how giving money to the Salvation Army secretly funds de-forestation in Denmark to pay for Frito-Lay marketing ventures. I’ve already said too much.

Where do you go to be alone? The San Diego County Jail.

What makes someone a San Diegan? You know where Ronnie's house is.


Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Let's Look at Dresses Designed by Someone from "Jersey Shore"

Esteemed thespian and "Jersey Shore" alum Jenny "Jwoww" Farley has just unveiled the pieces for her signature line "Filthy Couture". And they are just...amazing. Karl Lagerfeld just crapped in his pants. Here, I take a look at the line's best looks:





According to the website, this top costs $400. Which means its going to be hard deciding between buying this or your monthly Valtrex prescription.








The signature gown in the "Craigslist" Evening Wear collection.









Hot pink micro-mini? Check. Black lace? Check. Tons of blue eyeshadow? Check. Cross to show Jesus approves? Check.










Jealous and tired of playing second fiddle, Summer's waist finally had enough and tried to climb up and strangle her breasts.












"I thought my dress looked too slutty, but then I glue-gunned these flowers in the middle!"










The models all have the same look on their face like: "I can't believe I had to blow that fat booking agent to get this gig."














This one seems a little too "granny" to me. But my grandmother was a mobbed-up stripper who ran a brothel outside a Navy base in Manilla, so maybe my idea of being "granny" means something totally different.











Queen Elizabeth has this same outfit. True fact.






The white lace says I'm the girl next door, but the black ribbon bustier says "I have stabbed a girl who tried to steal my wig"













The poor model is terrified, terrified, that the thing who took half her dress will come for her next.












Finally, you stop can spending all those sleepless nights worrying, "What am I going to wear to my boyfriend's parole hearing?"





Can't wait to see to what Snooki has in store for her Cotillion collection.


Peace & Love,

Rebecca Rose

Monday, July 5, 2010

Lindsay Lohan Got a Knuckle Sandwich for her Birthday







On her 24th birthday, Lindsay Lohan got punched by a waitress at a club. When asked why she did it, the waitress said there was "no reason".






I'm just gonna come out and say it. If I had to be a waitress, pulling double shifts, working for tips at some crazy overpriced celebrity bar, fending off sleazy managers, thieving co-workers and crazed alcoholics, waiting on a bunch of drunk morons and suddenly, in the middle of my shift, I had to wait on Lindsay Lohan, I would fucking punch her too.


Actually none of that matters. If I was the Sultan of Brunei I would punch her. Mother Teresa would have punched her. If Gandhi were in the middle of one of his heartbreaking speeches about the importance of non-violence and passive resistance and he looked out into the crowd and saw her, he would leap down and punch her.

It is virtually impossible for anyone to not punch Lindsay Lohan.

Peace & Love,

RR

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Breaking Down the Crazy Racist Bullshit of Mel Gibson

What in the hell happened to Mel Gibson? Once upon a time he was a funny action hero who made movies about Jesus and wise-cracked with people like Danny Glover. Australians are supposed to be laid back, Foster’s swilling, wallaby farmers...when did Braveheart join the KKK? Here, I break down Mel’s recent rants on the patented crazy scale, to see just how he went full-on, bat shit crazy.







First, let’s examine how he views women in general:


“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT, SUGARTITS?”

Gibson shouted this to the female police officer who arrested him for DUI. This is fairly sexist. But then again, some lady cops look very, very sexy in those uniforms. And he was very, very drunk. Crazy Meter: 3 for sexually harassing a cop, and for the first glance at kookiness.

Let’s see how Gibson handles himself in matters of the heart:

“YOU’RE AN EMBARRASSMENT TO ME”

Honestly, if you’ve attended any recent Rose family reunions, you wouldn’t make a fuss over this either. “You’re an embarrassment to me”, is how my mother signs her Christmas cards. Crazy meter: 4, only because he did say this to his baby-mama, and even in our family, we lighten up when you’re breeding more of us.

“HOW DARE YOU ACT LIKE SUCH A BITCH WHEN I HAVE BEEN SO FUCKING NICE?”

OK I don’t know what the big deal is about this. I totally get where he’s coming from. People are always acting like bitches when I’m trying to be nice to them. This is exactly what I said that stupid nun who asked me to stop “donating” my empty Smirnoff bottles and expired Xanax prescriptions in their collection bin. People are so uptight with their stupid “rules” and “county ordinances”. Let’s call this one a draw.




Then he gets a little murder-y:

“I AM GOING TO COME AND BURN THE FUCKING HOUSE DOWN. BUT YOU WILL BLOW ME FIRST.”

You might think threatening to burn down the house of the mother of your child would send you straight off the Crazy Meter. But sometimes, when you are in love with someone you just want to burn their house down. I don’t know why. And then of course a blow job is always nice, so…on the Crazy Meter I give it a 6.



Next, Gibson tackles global-socio political theory:

“FUCKING JEWS. JEWS ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL THE WARS IN THE WORLD.”

Yes, let’s not forget how the Jews started the Mexican-American War, the Japanese feudal wars, the Romulan-Klingon war….Gibson plows right into crazy racist territory with this one. But he hasn’t quite made to full-fledge nutjob just yet. Crazy Meter: 8.5



"I WILL REPORT HER TO THE FUCKING PEOPLE THAT TAKE FUCKING MONEY FROM THE WETBACKS".

There is like a 5 year backlog at the Agency of Fucking People Who Take Money from Fucking Wetbacks, so his report his probably just going sit on somebody's desk. Fucking bureaucracy, man. Wait...what? Who takes money from "wetbacks"? Who does he think does is? No really, I need to know. Crazy Meter 9. For being mind-baffling.


But, then, finally, he takes a sharp turn and crashes smack dab into the middle of Crazytown.

“YOU LOOK LIKE A FUCKING PIG IN HEAT. AND IF YOU GET RAPED BY A PACK OF N**GERS, IT’LL BE YOUR FAULT”.

Holy motherfucking shit. That is some crazy, fucked, racist bullshit right here. He thinks that black people roam the streets in “packs” just looking to rape women??? That is way racist. He just shot off the white power racist scale. Tom Metzger just went “Dude that’s way over the line.” Crazy Meter: One zillion.


I don't think there is a way for Mel Gibson to seem any more crazy to me than he already does. If he showed up to the Golden Globes wearing a KKK hood and a tutu, eating a bag of his own feces and singing "Don't Rain On My Parade", that would probably be a step up. At this point.


Peace & Love,

Rebecca Rose

Daphne Guiness beats me to the punch

Superstar make-up designer François Nars named a $23 purple eyeshadow after his muse, Daphne Guiness. Behold:




“Daphne’s like a painting in this image,” Nars said. “Daphne was the inspiration for the campaign...I love Daphne – she has incredible style....She’s very creative and elegant and is a chameleon."


Man, that's just a life I am never going to have. No one like François Nars, (or anybody who requires a special character to correctly write their name) will ever name something after me. No one this sophisticated and sheik will ever look at my pork rind-snacking, fingernail-biting, vodka-swilling self and say "OH yes! This is the elegant and delicate muse I have sought all my life!"


The best I'll ever get is maybe Chef Boyardee gets inspired by the fact that I have spent most of my life savings on their products and comes out with a line quickly microwaveable of dinosaur shaped ravioli that somehow works in ranch dressing and those sugary donut ball things they have in Chinese buffets to honor me.


Peace & Love

RR

"MAD MEN YOURSELF" IS BACK!!



See, it's just another day at the office for me...pregnant, smoking, bringing my gun to work, getting some shopping done....

Ah, Mad Men. How I have missed thee.


Mad Men yourself for Facebook, Twitter or just to kill time at your crappy boring job.




RR

Chris Brown Cries....?


Last weekend, during a tribute performance to Michael Jackson at the BET Awards, Chris Brown broke down in tears and had to leave the stage because he was so overcome with emotion. Or maybe he wasn't. So now everyone is screaming "bullshit" or some variation thereof.


Judge for yourself, the "crying" starts at about 2:51 in.






This is ridiculous. Of course Chris Brown did not fake the crying. Everyone knows that fake-crying hysterically to Michael Jackson songs will not get you out of trouble. We've been trying since 1984, when I burst into tears singling lines from "Beat It" as a plea for my mother to stop making me wear that damn "Holly Hobby is My Best Friend" t-shirt, because this WILL get your ass kicked at a school playground. I don’t care how young you are.

It didn't work then and it didn't work that time I played "Man in the Mirror" during the sentencing phase of one of my last trials. I don't know how, but the judge was not moved by my heartfelt promise to “straighten up my life”. As the music raised, I tearfully swore that I would “make that chaeyy-ange!” That stupid judge still gave me community service. Jerk.

Sidebar: If you're not supposed to punch a cop, then the stupid cop shouldn't tell people they can't get drunk and climb on top of his car. That is just asking for it. It is not my fault he is a crybaby. And I don’t know how me having to go to some crazy community center and talk to kids about “the consequences of alcohol abuse” makes up for it.

Peace & Love,


RR

Monday, June 28, 2010

None of you jerks are buying booty shorts.


Sad news today. According to a report by MSNBC, natural beauty activists American Apparel are in danger of losing their fight to portray women in their natural settings. The report states that a quadruple loss in quarterly earnings, resulting in a massive stock drop.


This very disappointing, World.


Because YOU are too selfish to buy booty shorts and neon leg warmers, a brave, valiant captain of industry like Dov Charney may not be able to harass women who work for him to give him sex. What a sad day for humanity. This poor man will have to rely on nothing the money he has stockpiled from swindling investors in this company to pay for sex all on his own. How awful. All of you should be ashamed. SELFISH.


Sad day for humanity,
RR

Thursday, June 17, 2010

John Leonardo, Defender of Gummi Bears

Katy Perry's horribly annoying song has inspired a horribly annoying video which prompted horribly a incongruous response from Trolli. Trolli is the maker of Gummi bears (seen in Perry's video giving the same gesture I use to show my feelings about vegetarian corn dogs).




Trolli issued this statement today:

"Those are definitely not Trolli Gummi bears in the video because Trolli Gummi Bears would never be that rude," John Leonardo, senior brand manager of Farley's and Sathers (which owns Trolli), said in a statement. "Trolli bears would extend their chubby little arms and give Katy a big old bear hug and whisper, 'Everything is going to be alright'."



Can you imagine that is his job? To defend the virtue of Gummi bears. Wow. And they say the American dream is dead.


RR

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

"Jealous Bitch" Moving, featuring MORE BITCHES!!!


Starting next week, your favorite blog about hot Asian dudes that is not about stalking, goes to the big time.Thanks to all your traffic, I have outgrown my happy little home here on this shit awful blogging site that crashes constantly has horrible layout and I swear sometimes just deliberately does shit to fuck with me Blogspot. Yes, the Internet has finally recognized my supremacy and granted me my very own dot com.

The new site will feature guest contributors from fellow comedians, bloggers and other friends of mine who I owe money to extremely talented writers. The new site will feature more videos, recaps of your favorite shows, even restaurant reviews and so much more. Also, in case you haven't heard, "Jealous Bitch" is also becoming a podcast, featuring weekly recaps of the news of the world, guests spots and regular commentary from yours truly.


I promise, I will absolutely let it go to my head.

Peace and Love,

RR

'West Coast represent now put your hands up!"

You know, when I first heard this song I was all: "Yay!! A song about me, a 'California Gurl' I wear 'daisy dukes and bikini on top'! We DO go to the beach and get sand our stilletos. OMG!!"


But now. I cannot get this fucking song out of my head. It's no joke, I am worried. I hear it, constantly, burning from the back of my mind, forcing its way to my temples like it's trying to TO COMPLETELY DOMINATE MY BRAIN. I hear it everywhere I go, every sound I hear eventually turns into "

What is the sinister force behind this? Satan?? Evil mind-controlling gnomes?? REPUBLICANS???

Even now the clacking of my keyboard, as I desperately type this plea for help, sings out "Fine, fresh, fierce, we got it on lock!!" I CAN'T MAKE IT GO AWAY---"Sun-kissed skin, so hot will melt your popsicle Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!!!"



"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!!!"

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE HELP ME.

Aretha Franklin Repeats Dress, Not Wig

Aretha Franklin wore the same dress twice. In the same weekend, in fact.

Right: Aretha at the Apollo on Friday night; Left: Re-Re at the Tony Awards on Saturday night.


Look. This is ARETHA. The Queen of Soul. If she wants to wear her dress two nights in a row, then goddammit, she's going to do it. Who knows why she decided to do this. You do not question the mind of Aretha Franklin, or any diva for that matter. You're liable to get a cell phone thrown at your head, have an ancient Gypsy curse put on you or have the demon that lives inside them rip itself free in a rage-filled frenzy, shooting the fires of Hades into your soul, sending you straight to the bowls of hell to spend eternity trapped in an endless fortress of torture until the very end of Time itself.

I

Peace and Love,

RR

American Apparel Does Not Want You To Pluck or Color Your Eyebrows


Last week, the Internet learned that porn kingpin businessman Dov Charney, the man who gave us this, shockingly has some pretty absurd hiring standards when it comes to his company, American Apparel. The company reportedly uses photographs to judge the looks of and weed out employees, to ensure that they fit with their "image". (Again, shocking when you consider the stellar contributions in the fight against misogyny and sexism they have made.)

Today, this crazy memo detailing American Apparel's belief in "natural beauty" (they must mean this. Or maybe this.) circulated:

Please keep in mind that American Apparel is a retailer that celebrates natural beauty...our models appear in their natural state....

a) Makeup is to be kept to a minimal- please take this very seriously. Liquid eyeliner, pencil eyeliner and eyeshadow are advised against; mascara must look very natural...Please do not use a shiny gloss on your lips; any lipcolor must be subtle.

b) Eyebrows must not be overplucked. Full eyebrows are very much encouraged. Please do not dye your eyebrows a different color.
In her "natural state", obviously

c) We encourage long, healthy, natural hair, so please be advised of the following:
-Hair must be kept your natural color.
-Blow-drying hair excessively could cause heat damage, so this is advised against.-"Bangs" or "fringe" are advised against. It is not part of the direction we're moving in.

d) Jewelry must not be distracting. One earring per ear is encouraged. Earrings, necklaces, watches, bracelets, etc. must be simple and tasteful.

Well OK then.


Meanwhile today, Wal-mart also released a list of their guidelenes for grooming, detailing the very specific requirements they have:


1. Hair should be a record of the times you have tried to dye it blonde, fcked it up, tried to dye it back to your natural color and then dyed in black, tried to add “highlights” then did Ogilvie home perm on top. Hair should be held back in either a fake hair scrunchie (that must not blend in with any of your attempted home colorings) or just some rubberbands you found on the floor of the warehouse.

2. Please note: No nose hair grooming of any kind. It is not the direction we are moving in.

3. Please confine yourself to selecting from one of the following t-shirts to wear underneath your Wal-mart apron: “Toby Keith, Live in Tulsa, 1999”, “Jimmy Johnson #48”, and “GET ER DONE!!!” Also, any t-shirt advertising your favorite brand of motor oil is also acceptable.

4. Pants must be at least 3-4 sizes too small, (likewise for aforementioned t-shirts.)

5. Under no circumstances should your socks match any article of clothing you are wearing.

6. Please keep jewelry tastefully confined to layers upon layers of flimsy gold necklaces all of which are emblazened with your name, your childrens' names, names of your nieces/nephews, neighbors' children you have taken a "shine" to, the words "Paris", "Sexy!!", or just "Jesus". (Any rings worn must also match chosen word)

7. Nails should be no shorter than four inches long, so much so as to hinder even the simplest of tasks, and should preferably be painted neon pink or black (this standard applies to both men and women)

I mean I am just shocked, SHOCKED at these impossible standards of beauty they expect people to adhere to. Outrageous.


Peace and Love,

Rebecca Rose

Monday, March 15, 2010

The Bald Dude is back.

He's back...looking more bewildered and tactfully annoyed than ever. So once again, I give you: "What the Bald Dude Is Thinking":

"Oh dammit. Not pictures again. Ohhh I am going to get so much shit for this. Do you know how many times my mother called me when she saw these pictures the first time? It was a good 30 or 40 calls. "What is going on with you?" this and "Is this what I paid all that college for" that and "Why can't you just be more like you're brother?". My brother is an ex-con. He has done serious, hard time. He lives in a half-way house and cleans toilets all day. And yet he still has a better life than me. Seriously.

Please, can you just shoot me? No, really. Just freaking shoot me. "

-RR

Movie Night with a Jealous Bitch: Rush Hour 3

This is AWESOME!

See, just when I had my heart broken by a recent crime that is grounds for the death penalty I assure you, I discovered this little gem of a movie: "Rush Hour 3"...featuring not one, but two of my all time favorite hot Asian dudes.

Now the producers of this franchise (unlike those jerks at Lost) have yet to disappoint. Let's not forget it was "Rush Hour" that gave us a very young and very hot Ken Leung, a "Hot Guy I Want To Do" Hall of Famer. Rush Hour 2 had JOHN FREAKING LONE. (JOHN LONE!!!)

And if that's not enough....Not only does it have the always adorably sexable Jackie Chan....but RUSH HOUR 3 stars a much younger, INSANELY HOTTER Hiroyuki Sanada (Dogen from Lost). I haven't been this happy since the Olympics, when I spent two nights in a row masturbating to the Korean Speed Skating team. Except for the twelve other nights I spent masturbating to the Korean Speed Skating team.

Here is an awesome still from this brilliant piece of cinematic mastery:

Ironically, ^ this is pretty much how all of my sexual fantasies turn out at some point. Even the ones about speed skaters.


Yeah. Movie night is awesome.

Peace and Love,

RR

The Japanese will not tolerate your old fat asses at Prada

What the world most needs right now is an uplifting story to reaffirm humanity's kindness and decency. Something to make us all smile and think..."Hey. It's not so bad. Life is pretty darn good!"


But since everything sucks right now, we get this news instead. Apparently, fashion-giant Prada is being sued, accused of telling managers at it's Japanese stores to fire "ugly, fat" workers. Oh and I think they said old people could go fuck themselves, too. If it's true, it's pretty horrible. For Prada. Because who else, but an old, hideous fat person would you feel sorry enough for to be suckered into buying this crap from:

I don't know about Prada. But I do work for a Japanese company. Everybody is very very skinny and super hot. I have yet to see a fat person or an old person. I am not kidding. I haven't even see someone who's a little "pudgy". It's starting to get a little creepy.

Maybe there is some secret basement fat farm they take them to when they start to slide. Maybe they just make you disappear. I don't know but I am starting to worry because I am on the wrong side of 30 and see the thing is they have all this free sushi and shumai and ramen and these yummy shrimp things that they give out and it is very HARD to stop at just one or nine, even when that one executive (who I'm pretty sure wears a lot of Prada) has to go and get the translator to ask me "Don't you think you've had enough?" and then sends out all these emails to people's bosses reminding everyone that the food is there to "share" and then people's bosses make them go sit in the cubicle that smells like feet for a week. I mean, it is not fair that sushi is really really good AND IF YOU DONT WANT PEOPLE TO EAT IT THEN WHY DO YOU PUT IT OUT IN THE FIRST PLACE.




Jerks.


Peace and Love,


Rebecca Rose

Monday, March 8, 2010

90 Problems, and Bitch For Everyone....

Sometimes the Internet sends us special gifts. Granted, sometimes it sends us total crap, like this, this, this or this.


But, on those rare occasions....we get magic.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you "Types of Bitches". Apparently, it is a list written by third graders in Washington, D.C., who have painstakingly documented the vast multitude of bitches that are out there today. (Carl Linneaus is probably kicking himself for not getting around to this.) Honestly, I had no idea there were this many types of bitches. And believe me, I know my bitches.

Behold, The Bitches:







I had no idea wearing my pajamas outside made me a bitch, but now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense.

And, I gotta say...who knew third graders were this awesome? When I was in third grade, the only lists I ever made were of which Strawberry Shortcake dolls I wanted for Christmas or which Barbie doll I least suspected of plotting with Satan to make me insecure about my looks. I hate children, but if they were all more like this, perhaps I would reconsider my lifelong quest to have them all rounded up and banished to some sort of child labor island, crafting designer shoes with their tiny little agile hands all day. (Please. It's really not as bad as it sounds. It's not like I'm going to starve them or something.)

Anyway, here's to all the bitches! (#24, #73 and especially #10):


(They wouldn't let me embed the real Jaz-Z video for this, but I think you'll agree, this is way better.)


Best part of all??? FINALLY SOME ONE HAS PROPERLY IMMORTALIZED ME!:

"90) Jelous Bitch"
SUCK IT HATERS.

Peace and Love, Bitches

Rebecca Rose

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Recap Schmeecap-Lost: Sundown....WHAAAT????



ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?? THEY KILLED OFF THE HOT ASIAN DUDE? THE ONE WITH THE LONG HAIR? THE ONE THAT I HAD THAT FANTASY ABOUT WHERE HE IS A SAMURAI WARRIOR AND I AM LIKE LOST IN A FOREST AND I "RUN AFOUL" OF SOME "BANDITS" AND THEN HE SWOOPS IN TO RESCUE ME, BUT WHEN I TRY TO THANK HIM HE REFUSES MY "GRATITUDE" BECAUSE HE IS ON AN EPIC "QUEST" AND CAN'T BE "DISTRACTED" AND SO I HAVE TO FOLLOW HIM AND THEN SOMEHOW THERE ARE SWORD FIGHTS AND FLYING DRAGONS AND MAGIC CRYSTALS AND EVIL SORCERERS AND A FEW SCENES FROM FOOTLOOSE. ALSO I DREAM ABOUT GETTING IT ON WITH HIM IN A HOT TUB OR PERHAPS A TRASHY MOTEL.


Anyway, getting back to the show...I simply cannot describe the outrage I feel surrounding this atrocity. It sort of makes up for the fact that I got drunk and forgot to watch was busy with important work and couldn't blog about last week's episode. Killing a hot Asian dude off is grounds for the complaint I am filing with the FCC tomorrow. I mean, if 1/2 second of Janet Jackson's boob is enough to rack up millions of dollars in fines and thousands of complaints, I can't imagine what the OUTRAGE over this ABOMINATION will generate. HOW DARE YOU, LOST. How. Dare. You.




Peace & BRING BACK DOGEN,

RR

Friday, February 26, 2010

What the Bald Dude is thinking:



Seriously, this is my fucking life? No. Seriously? I have to walk around with a moron dressed like this? I don't even know what I'm supposed to be helping her do, exactly. Protecting her from the demons she awakened during Walpurgis Night? Is she one of the labors of Hercules or something? When the hell did my life go so wrong? You know, my mother wanted me to be a dentist. I thought that would be too boring. But no this is much better. Carrying a bag for Cernunnos. Awesome.









Peace and Love,





Rebecca Rose

Thursday, February 18, 2010

"WarHead"

After successfully introducing the word "Kanyenese" into today's lexicon, I now would like to present to you a new definition:

"Warhead: A blowjob you give your military boyfriend before he deploys."

I came up with this after hearing today's news that Iran was assembling a nuclear warhead. That's right. I heard about possible world-ending nuclear annihiliation and turned it into a sex joke.

You're welcome, Internet.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Just in time for Valentine's Day, my cyber-stalker is back!

Awesome news, everyone! My cyber-stalker is back!

Some of you may remember him as the psycho who sends me pictures of Padma Lakshi and tells me how much he wants to lick my armpits. Well, he's gone off his meds again and he's back! Behold:


"Dear Rebecca:

Happy Valentine's Day. How have you been doing? So, have you found yourself a boyfriend yet? "


He wants to know if I found a boyfriend yet. You know what this means?

Even my stalker is giving me a hard time about being single.

I know I probably don't have a much of a moral high horse to get on about stalking. And I have only myself to blame for this. I responded to an email he sent me because he said he was a "very hot Asian dude." Then he sent me a picture of himself. Let me tell you something. He is most assuredly NOT a hot Asian dude. And for the record, I would just like to say how wrong it is to get a person's hopes up like that. So wrong.

I'm tempted to send him the manifesto on the merits of being single in your 30s that I drunk-emailed my mom one night after chugging all my roommate's Triple Sec on a dare (this is a bad idea). It did get her to stop sending me pictures of all her friends' kids' babies that I'm not having. Now she just sends me links to 12-step programs and rehab centers. (Are they mothers or smothers, am I right?)


This is when you know you're getting old, because when you tell your friends you have a stalker and are going to call the police they say "Wait, wait....not so fast. Let's think about this for a second." or "You know, it is really hard to meet single men at your age" or "He just wants to lick your armpits. Is that so much to ask? Why are you so emotionally withholding?" *

Maybe it is time I address my fear of intimacy and commitment that are obviously what make me so afraid to be murdered by a creepy stranger loved. Honestly, I just don't think I'm ready to commit to a stalker. I want to play the field a bit, you know? Like who's to say this stalker is "the one"??? What if my real, one true stalker is out there, somewhere, just waiting to stalk me? I may never know. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I don't want to have to settle for an armpit-licker when there could be a foot-licker or an elbow-licker out there, just waiting for me.


Because I am nothing if not a dreamer.


Peace & Love,

Rebecca Rose

(*TFM: Thank you for that. Sometimes I feel like we're just like them gals on the Sex and the City! And you're like the Charlotte...of my heart.)

Friday, February 12, 2010

Man Candy Friday: Special President's Day Edition

In honor of the big three day weekend for President's Day, here's some sexxxxy pictures of our hottest U.S. Presidents! Enjoy ladies and bored gay men!!


We all know what a hottie JFK was!!! (unlike most men, he didn't have to choose between a Jackie or a Marilyn, he just had both).



Harry Truman. You sly minx, you.





You know, when I think "sex", the first name that pops into my mind is "Millard Fillmore". I won't tell you where I take it from there.






Grover Cleveland. Just more of him to love, baby.






Nixon. Because I like bad boys. Bad, bad boys.




Happy President's Day Weekend...enjoy your time off, kiddies. See you all on Tuesday.




Peace and Love,

Rebecca Rose

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Will you, indeed?

Ladies and Gentleman, I draw your attention now to this most heartfelt and poignant plea. I urge you, please, please listen to the dire calls from this most ardent of fighters and his desperate cry for help. I only hope that this most urgent call to action does not fall on deaf ears...and that it leaves you as deeply touched as it did me:



Thank you.


Peace & Love,
RR

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Recap Schmeecap: Lost "What Kate Does"...

"What Kate Does"...


Basically, a lot of utterly improbable bullshit that made my brain hurt. Also there was an inexcusable lack of hot Asian dudes not wearing shirts. I mean that is just outrage.

This week, Sayid came back to life and was tortured worse than me during that time I had to sit through a Phil Collins concert with my mom. (She wanted to go see a "rock" band). Then the hot Asian dude with the long hair gave Jack a pill which may or may not kill Sayid, which may or may not be a good thing which may or may not make my head explode when I finally figure out what the hell is going on. Also, that new hot Asian dude's name is "Dogen". We have yet to uncover the mystery of who he is or who his followers are or why they are there or what they are trying to do or why they all dress like they're in a Reno dinner theater production of "The Pirates of Penzance".

In the other timeline, Kate and Claire act out The Most Improbable Storyline Ever Written. First, Kate takes the 8-month pregnant Claire hostage, waving a gun at her and threatening her life and dumps her in the middle of nowhere, stealing all her belongings.





Then, Kate, motivated by a bout of Shamu-inspired remorsefulness drives back to find Claire. Then Claire willingly gets in a car driven by someone who moments ago threatened to kill her and her unborn baby and stole everything she owns. Then they make girl talk about babies and felonies. Yay female bonding! This is just like on Sex and the City! Then, the pregnant woman who moments ago thought she was going to be murdered by the murderer who is running from the law….asks Kate to come with her to meet the people who are going to adopt her baby. Of course. In case she doesn’t like them and wants to have them murdered, I guess. You know, I can make the leap to believe in supernatural zombie ponds and inter dimensional time shifts, but this kind of stuff is just too much for me.


But woe is poor Claire. Alas, the parents-to-be have broken up, the weeping sad-sack woman who opens the door informs us “My husband left me!!” And judging by her atrocious lesbian librarian attire and her “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane” eye makeup, it’s seriously no wonder. Anyway, Mrs. Sadsack informs them that she no longer wants Claire's baby because she can’t raise a baby on her own because no one ever does that ever.


(Sidenote: Really? You can’t make a phone call? Really? Your husband left you, so you’re no longer capable of dialing a phone? Did he take all the phones with him when he left, too? Actually, that wouldn’t surprise me. Break ups are crazy. I knew a dude one time who unscrewed all the covers off the light switches, and took the batteries from all the electronic devices when his wife divorced him. People go nuts, OK? But I’m pretty sure it doesn’t affect your ability to pick up a phone and dial some digits. You can’t take 30 seconds and make a phone call so a pregnant girl doesn’t fly all the way out from Australia for nothing?? I’m really starting to see why her husband left in the first place.)

This was literally the worst 3 minutes ever of this show, and without a doubt, the most absolutely improbable. The plot is so far-fetched, it sends Claire into labor, obviously. Then, when they show up at the hospital…Kate finds creepy Dr. Mengele Ethan. In what I can only describe as the most Amazingly Improbable Hospital Scene Ever, Dr. Kevorkian Ethan walks into the room, takes a 2 second glance at a patient he’s never seen before in his life, announces to her, without an exam, how dilated and effaced she is and makes his diagnoses after looking through some papers that aren’t even about her. This is either the worst medical writing ever, or Damon Lindelof's horribly unsubtle attempt at promoting health care reform.

But I have to say, what is really perplexing in all of this is Claire’s cracked-out, sorry-ass Raggedy Ann wig.

It's like something you would see on a drag queen performing a food court in a mall in Sacramento. The wig is almost more mystifying than that hospital scene. I said almost.


Anyway, next we supposedly get back story from the “Others” when they were children taken to the Island. Which will no doubt just give me more information to confuse the living shit out of me. Until then,


Peace and Love,

Rebecca Rose

Monday, February 8, 2010

"Iron" Mike Tyson was on the Italian version of "Dancing With The Stars"

I have no idea what freaks me out more about this. That Mike Tyson is dancing on the Italian version of "Dancing with the Stars"....or that there is an ITALIAN version of "Dancing with the Stars". His dancing is nothing short of epic. He moves like the drunk uncle at a wedding in Fort Wayne. I think I was hypnotized by his hips for a second there.

-RR

Sarah Palin is Doing Things: She's still writing on her hand.





After last week's widely publicized "Texas Palm Pilot" Palin sported at a speech, she seems to have gotten the last laugh, displaying a new palm message that reads "Hi Mom". Seriously, this is totally what I would have done.

Of course, the worst part of this story is not that the former Governor keeps notes on her hand or that she is now having her own private joke at the media's expense....


It's that someone thought it would be a good idea to dress that poor little girl up in that "Texas Cutie" get up. That is just tragic. On so many levels. I have no doubt this poor unfortunate child thought this was a "cool" idea at the time. But trust me...in about 4.3 years, she will regret it. Regret it in a HUGE way. Every time she looks at this picture, she will cringe. She will erupt in a violent fit whenever her mother tries to pull it out to show family friends the treasured family memento of the time they met a famous politician. She will pull it off the walls and hide it in a box in the basement somewhere. She will scream "OH GOD NO!!!" when her parents try to show it to boy who's come over to take her out on a first date. Yes. The carnage will be unimaginable.


And how can I be sure of all this? Because, sadly...I am this girl.

There exists somewhere in this wide world a picture of RR wearing orange plaid shorts, and one of those tourist t-shirts we bought at Woolworth's that said "Official Tourist Catcher" and had a picture of a cartoon gator and a man with a camera and a map. The gator was biting the tourist....in the buttocks. I thought this was the coolest thing in the world. Also, for some ungodly reason, I wore a freaking newsboy hat with this outfit. Yes. A NEWSBOY HAT. (please don't forget that braces and thick glasses were also part of this ensemble). I have no idea what I was thinking. I can only be certain of the fact that when I looked in the mirror, I swear, I saw Debbie Gibson staring back at me. That's how cool I thought I looked. I thought I looked as good as freaking Debbie "Electric Youth!" Gibson.

And yes, tragically, there are pictures of this somewhere. Hopefully hidden away like the Ark from Indiana Jones, because if they ever saw the light of day, they too might have the power to rip apart the universe, dooming humanity to an eternity of darkness and torture. Or worse.


Peace and Love,


Rebecca
Rose

Sunday, February 7, 2010

So let's talk about that Tim Tebow Super Bowl ad....

So Tim Tebow, University of Florida Football Quarterbacking God, filmed a supposedly "pro-life" Super Bowl ad for the Christian group "Focus on The Family". Because Tebow is very, very religious, judging by the size of his girlfriend's breast implants. Because that is how you show your love for Jesus. Obviously.


When news of NCAA's golden boy going all Christian-y in prime time hit the air waves, it caused he kind of media uproar that only occurs once every lunar cycle...or when crazy white people open their mouths and say or do the kinds of dumb things that can make them look like the kinds of crazy white people the media has been warning us about. Quite literally, everyone freaked the fuck out. The Cuban Missile Crisis didn't get this much press. You would have thought Tebow had announced he was going to perform an abortion during Super Bowl. Women's rights groups protested and picketed. Feminists groups threatened to boycott the Super Bowl....but since no feminist has ever bothered to watch any Super Bowl ever, it didn't really matter.

There is nothing the media loves more than this shit. It's like Tim Tebow just walked into the offices of the editors of major New York media publications and said "Hey. I know times have been tough for you. But here's an early Christmas present from me."

Anyway, after much prolonged hype, protests, death threats, boycotts, mass suicides and probably nuclear war.....this is the ad:



Based on the uproar, I half-expected Tebow to come charging through a wall of bloody aborted fetuses, screaming scripture at the top of his lungs and setting himself on fire. But it's actually pretty lame. It's basically just him hugging up on his Mom. Which is a whole lot creepier. Seriously.

I think this ad is most monumental, because (judging by his shit performance in the Senior Bowl), it's probably the only time Tim Tebow will ever be seen in a Super Bowl. At the rate he's going, he'll be lucky to make the starting line up in the Puppy Bowl.

Also....Does anyone think he is hot? See, I didn't used to...until I found out he was sort of right wing religious-y. Now I want to bang him like a drum at a Motley Crue concert. Is that wrong? He is 18, right?


Peace and Love,
RR