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Just was reading my people magazine, and saw this Sephora ad. Good lord. Keep it in your pants, Sephora. The gays already buy your products.
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“#papsleavebiebsalone” is currently a trending topic on Twitter. First, let me say that I’m impressed the Beliebers managed to get this trending during the school day. I guess the “no cell phone” rule was being heavily disobeyed at mid morning recess today.
Apparently, the Beliebers are upset that Justin Bieber is being stalked by the Paparazzi (RUDE! That’s THEIR job *sarcasm*). Well, you know whose fault that is, tweens? Yours. The more you obsess over him, the more news media will want to pay for pictures. So ponder that with the part of your brain that’s still functioning (if any).
I also find such offenses comical from people that incessantly badger the poor smurf with tweets. You’re there, he knows. We all know, and we all hate it.
I mean really honey, If you want to stalk someone, stalk someone better than a midget from a country whose main staple is a sticky liquid secreted from a tree. I stalk Jose Cuervo on a daily basis. He never lets me down.
Ever.
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Lindsay Lohan is apparently “hiding” from her father. Honey, if you ask me, she should be hiding from any box containing the words “blonde” and “do it yourself” on it.
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Stop feeling guilty. This is his EX-GIRLFRIEND. If I didn’t dislike most people already, I’d be angry at him, too!
The fact that you’re writing to me tells me that you must clearly have stellar taste, and he should be lucky to have you. Honey, you have to sit him down and tell him what you’re feeling. Then ask him what he’s feeling. And then tell him why what he’s feeling is wrong.
As a gal who was married to a fat man who cheated on her with a British whore, this spells trouble for me. And not the fun kind of trouble where people like Lindsay Lohan end up in jail.
-Karen
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Bella? This friend of yours better not be named Edward.
Honey, if I felt emotion, I would tell you that I’m sorry to hear this. Losing someone you care about isn’t easy. It’s not like poking fun at unattractive people or insulting Rebecca Black - those things are super easy and fun. You’re going to have to make new friends.
Bella, you tweeted this to me yesterday:
Honey, you have two friends right there. Two large friends. If you let these friends come out to play a little bit more, you’ll make new friends faster than I can drink my breakfast.
-Karen
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Oh Danny Boy. This is why I love my gays. You’re a mo with absolutely no regard for friendship or romantic loyalty and commitment whatsoever, and like to judge peoples’ looks at the same time. Honey, you’re good people, I approve.
You’re an example of why I don’t bother with the Lesbians. I mean really, honey. Unless you’re trying to find a bad hair zinger or need help building something, what good are they? (Ellen excluded, of course. She’s masculine perfection.)
My gays are always telling me that the straight men are the best in bed, so I hear ya. If your ex won’t sleep with you, find someone who will. You’re gay, honey. Besides having perfect hair, an excellent fashion sense, and great taste in sitcoms, multiple sex partners is almost implied.
Honey, I’m going to share a secret with you that every gay man should know. As the queen of hags (sorry, Gaga, I was born this way before you were), I know of a location that’s crawling with “straight” men just itching to be scratched by a penis. This magical place, you ask? Catholic Seminary School. Mhmm. Why do you think it’s called this? Because Catholics way back in the day decided that the word ‘Seminary’ would be far less inconspicuous than the word ‘semen.’ This is why Catholic ministers can’t marry/sleep with women - because the job (pun intended) is already being taken care of. I’m sure you’ve heard of the expression a little “over the shoulder action.” Honey, this is what I call a little “under the robe action.”
Feel inspired.
-Karen
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Oh honey, wow. I’d love to meet these two. They sound fun.
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Remember: speed limits, like drinking limits, are merely suggestions for half wits with boring personalities and unmanaged hair.
~ Me -
Hey kids, Karen here. As you all know, I’m always looking for ways I can bestow my wisdom upon the populace, which brings me to my current realization (or delusion, depending on how you look at it).
About an hour ago, I tweeted something (adorable as always) about…huh, I forget his name. Mackie Han? Jet Li? Ivanka Trump? I don’t know, honey. All I know is that he or she is an Asian that likes to kick people in front of a camera. Well anyways, I said “what out, New York” instead of saying “watch out, New York.” You all know that besides picking on people while drinking heavily so chaos and anarchy ensue, my next favorite thing is grammar perfection. It’s why picking on Justin Bieber’s fans is just so easy and fun.
All this got me thinking (and when I say thinking, I mean drinking). As most of you know, the closest I ever come to sobriety is that awful 10 seconds between refills. So in actuality, and by normal person standards, writing “what out” would be incorrect. Thank Jesus I’m not normal. I’m also perfection, and incapable of making mistakes (well, at least that was the deal Red and I made when he sold me his soul). This was just Smirnoff’s way of giving us all something new and cool to say.
So just when you think you’ve finally caught me in a blunder, think again. Karen Walker is never caught anywhere NEAR blunders. (Blenders, however, are a totally different story, honey. But that story is for a different drink, I mean day.)
So the newest, hippest, most fantastically fabulous new saying is ‘what out.’ When you hear this said, think of me and smile. You’ll know that this new awesomeness originated from true and pure perfection, not some bleach blonde slut heiress with her tiny fluff poodle from the slums of LA.
Bottom line? Drinking is inspiring. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.
-K
(and yes, Paris, I was talking about you. Whore.)
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Robert Pattinson has just released a deep, dark secret. He’s afraid of horses. HORSES. That’s right, world, our speedy, sparkly vampire extraordinaire is afraid of Mr. Ed.
Honey, this doesn’t surprise me at all.
Horses are clearly a threat. I mean, if you look at him and a horse side-by-side, the resemblance is uncanny. Hell, add a lil sparkle to the horse and they’re practically indistinguishable.
So Robby better watch it, because horses are much cheaper to employ. A carrot or two and a Peta Membership, and welcome to the unemployment line, Robert.
