Malingering’s World

Okay, I get it now. The whole world exists as to conspire against me. This is all an evil plan and I am the center of the whole thing. Everything is around me is here just to piss me off. Seriously. I have proof. First I complain about Uggs and American Girl dolls and what do you know, not only is the American Girl doll flourishing, but now she has her own pair of Uggs.

Are you kidding me? Now the dolls also need to have little dead sheep on their feet to encourage 7 year olds to do the same? I feel like Mattel is peering over my shoulder and any day now they’re going to release American Girl asswriting and belly button rings and then they will rub their hands together in Mr. Burns fashion and watch me from their hidden cameras which they must have planted around my apartment to allow them to revel in my suffering. I’m on to you!

It’s not just Mattel, it has recently become clear that Victoria’s Secret is out to get me too. It’s evident that they read the white pants rant and PINK asswriting rant because what do you know:

What the fuck, people? Why do you hate me so much?

Bebe didn’t want to feel left out, and to make things super duper special they made it sparkly and shiny. But it’s not super super enough to be high quality, so that every time you wear them one or two rhinestones falls off until you have a connect-the-dots game on your ass which is complicated only by the visible ripples of cellulite squished into your over-stretched white pants.

New rule: if your clothes have lost more than 6 pieces which were present in the initial purchase, throw them in the garbage.

I have been accused of being a pedophile more than once, mostly because I can’t stand seeing kids dressed as mini-adults. It seems now even the pre-schoolers are out to piss me off.

Come on, Baby Phat. Four year old booty is not large enough to be a walking billboard. Just leave the kids the fuck alone so you can face yourself each morning.

I then moved on to my hatred for asscracks at the ballgame. Every time the wave comes around you’re faced with another crevasse. A belt or maybe some well fitting jeans could have prevented that, but this sort of logic is obviously not taught at Pink University who clearly caught wind of last year’s post.

A two-for-one. How special. She’s clearly in on the plot.

Victoria, seriously. ENOUGH. Now we’ve got three different colors, and none of them are pink?

Moving on. I feel this is sufficient evidence to recognize them as the enemy.

Okay, so then I wrote about crazy muscle people and dressing up at ballgames and what do you know, the muscle people started stalking me at ballgames in high heels!

Clearly the only viable explanation is that all of Los Angeles is being controlled by electromagnetic radiation sent from a supreme commander of the FBI and everyone is conspiring to drive me insane which may force me to go into hiding for a while or at least make myself a tin foil hat.

And I’m no fool. I know you’re in on it too.

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