Karla Keffer

Archive for May, 2009|Monthly archive page

Happy Mother’s Day: Attack of the Clones

In Uncategorized on May 10, 2009 at 3:47 pm

attack of the clones

Actually, I think this may have been taken at Easter. I don’t think we took pictures on Mother’s Day. I do remember a Mother’s Day on which Grandpa and I got the wrong kind of chicken for dinner (we got KFC; Mom and Grandma wanted Roy Rogers), but there aren’t any pictures of them getting pissy with us. Not that I can blame them for that – KFC is a bloody disaster. I guess they washed it down with beer.

Anyway, if you’re still debating the existence of replicants, the above photo should quell the discussion, or perhaps stave it off for a bit.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Advertisements

Judy Blume Supports Planned Parenthood; Anti-Choicers Freak Out

In Uncategorized on May 7, 2009 at 9:54 am

judyblume

Judy Blume is under fire from anti-choicers because of this recent appeal on behalf of Planned Parenthood. I’m not going to link to any of their blogs or websites because I don’t want to drive any more traffic their way. They’re trotting out the usual arguments – if Judy Blume were a good mother, she wouldn’t support baby killing; Planned Parenthood is a front for the eugenics movement (its founder, Margaret Sanger, reputedly supported eugenics as well as birth control, which is not good, but it was fairly common in the 1920s). That whole rigmarole.

To show your support for Judy Blume, click here. And I do mean support. If you’re thinking of getting cute with it and using this as an opportunity to send Judy hate mail for supporting a woman’s right to choose or for writing books in which teenage girls masturbate, then start your own blog and whinge to your heart’s content.

On a stupid lighter note, the new GOOP is nestling in my inbox (and yours, too, if you subscribe), replete with manscaping tips. Thrills!

Everybody Hates Gwyneth

In Uncategorized on May 6, 2009 at 1:06 pm

Oh, the brow is low and needs a-pluckin’. I’ve wanted to kick Gwyneth Paltrow in the teeth since I was twenty and I read an article in which she was quoted as saying, “It’s so sad that most people’s cultural reference for Emma will be Clueless. I mean, that is an obscenity.” (Gee, I wonder how she feels about “What’s Opera, Doc?” Stupid pretentious twat rag.) At the time, I just thought I was a jealous bitch and a dumbass for failing to appreciate The Literary Greatness That Is Jane Austen. Those things are probably still true, but what a relief to find out wanting to push Gwynnie off a bridge and run her over with a speeding semi is a normal, healthy reaction! I did that whole Facebook “Pick Your Five People You’d Like To Punch In The Face” thing and three of my friends, all of whom are far more stable than I and one of whom loves Jane Austen, proudly admitted they felt the same way! Even more awesome – the friend who loves Jane Austen (and who writes some pretty kick-ass adaptations of her work, and puts them up in our acting class), admitted that she can’t even call Blythe Danner’s Daughter by her given name and that she wants to get a Bozo Bop Bag and paste a picture of her on it. I think she should incorporate that into a kick-ass adaptation of Emma.

I'm so pretty. I'm so pretty! Don't you think I'm so pretty? Oh, you're just jealous.

I'm so pretty. I'm so pretty! Don't you think I'm so pretty? Oh, you're just jealous.

It’s times like this I really miss my mom. Vikki could talk smack. I keep thinking of the time she and I were watching the news and that Kelly LeBrock Pantene commercial came on – you know, “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful” – and my mom kind of cocked her head and pretended to consider the matter, and then said with a straight face “Well, you’re not beautiful. But I still hate you, because you’re an obnoxious bitch.” She probably had to put something of a sock in it because I was eleven and she didn’t want me telling everyone at school that she said KLB was a total fucking cunt. I’d love to know what she’d say about Gwynnie Pizda, now that I’m thirty-two and Arpanet has long since become Teh Intarwebzisez. We’d probably be sitting at our shit day jobs, reading the Fishstick posts on D-Listed and emailing each other back and forth about how she needs to get off her upper-class asshole and see how real people kick it. And when that got boring (and it would, because there are only so many bullet holes you can put in the same fish in the same goddamn barrel), we’d nourish our inner aspects together by taking the piss out of Blythe’s Daughter’s magnum opus, GOOP. (Warning: Unless you’re in need of a lifesaving emetic or you’re a well-armed, well-practiced sadomasochist, don’t click that link.) Or maybe she’d yell at me for being a jealous, hateful bitch. Hard to say. I think that’s part of most mothers over a certain age’s repertoire – that whole “we try to like everyone/jealousy doesn’t become you” schtick. I hope this generation of mothers explains to its daughters that while it’s not okay to be a shit to those you dislike, it’s perfectly okay to dislike people, and while you may well be a jealous bitch, you don’t have to be ashamed of that, because it’s normal and there are certain shitweasels out there who provoke it, and you’re well within your rights to call them on their bullshit. It would save us all a lot of torment, not to mention money and time spent on therapy.

Special thanks to the lovely ladies who threw off their childhood conditioning for the time it took to smack-talk Gwyneth Paltrow, and extra-special (ed.) thanks to Skippy for hooking me up with D-Listed. Another warning: D-Listed is a world of awesome, but Michael K. is really, really foul. If you’re easily offended, best to give it a miss. Even if you’re not, read it in moderation. I feel like I’ve spent the past five days gorging on nothing but Russell Stover’s chocolate and Texas sheet cake. Guess I should make like The Piz’ and give myself a flaxseed enema. So to speak. I think I’ll just put myself on a strict diet of NPR for the next five days. Much less messy.