This is my entire life.
Today, I finally saw a picture of Lady Gaga’s boyfriend of about one year, Taylor Kinney. Taylor Kinney of Shamelessand The Vampire Diaries fame is one hot piece of…vampire. In other words, WHAT IS HE DOING WITH LADY GAGA. Now, I understand that Lady G is not necessarily as unattractive as her award show and performance persona would lead us to believe but I stand by my opinion on this.
The other night I watched the Women’s Gymnastics Vault finals of the Thirtieth Olympiad. The American gymnast who competed in this event was brought to the team specifically for her ability to nail this apparatus with nothing less than perfect form and execution. I’m not pretending to be a gymnastics afficianado here, but it seems to me that SITTING DOWN after the dismount is not necessarily the way to go if you want to win.
However, I don’t fault Ms. Maroney for this. Instead, I blame the commentators. If you were watching you know that right before she was set to perform her signature event, the announcers decided it would be a good idea to tell the world that she was, NO MATTER WHAT, a virtual lock for the gold medal. In essence, they gave her the Malocchio. It’s not her fault THEY JINXED HER. If i were you, MaKayla, I’d ask for a refund. And I’d also smile a bit after winning that Silver Medal.
I managed to spare a few minutes today to listen to former “16 and Pregnant” and “Teen Mom” star Farrah Abraham’s new song. And then I decided - against my better judgement - to read the first three pages of her forthcoming memoir that I came across online. As an aspiring writer I have to say this: her - or, more accurately, her ghostwriter - has a long way to go to make this book even remotely readable. Too bad it’s release date is IN A FEW DAYS. I won’t dare to quote anything directly for fear of making anyone read this want to GAUGE THEIR EYEBALLS OUT. I’m not about violence, people. But I note that this book makes me want to, plainly speaking, give up on this planet. If I were to write a review on this book, all it would say is “Bad.” No other words are necessary.
If you’re curious about her song, a friend of mine at work told me that whoever produced this monstrosity (and by produced I of course mean auto-tuned), “auto-tuned her to the wrong notes because she was so off-pitch.” This from a composition major and music teacher. If you still want to listen to it, be my guest, but you’ll be wishing you were deaf afterward.