This call is going to go down right after I press the publish button on this post:
911 operator: 911, what’s your emergency?
Old hysterical gay: QUICK! Send every police officer, firefighter, FBI agent, SWAT team member, Avenger, Justice League-er, Officer Poncho, Angela Bassett’s 9-1-1 character, and the 80s She-Ra to Netflix and Dreamsworks studio to arrest everybody in those buildings for their roles in butchering and slaughtering one of the most glamorous beings of the 80s cartoon universe and her friends!
911 operator: Oh, it’s that old hysterical gay again. Sir, when you hung up with me, did you call again hoping you’d get a different operator? Did the men in white coats I sent over to your house not show up yet?
When I heard that Netflix and Dreamworks Animation were joining forces to bring She-Ra into the now, I put my hand on my DVD copy of the She-Ra and He-Man Christmas special (aka my bible) and prayed to the gods above to not let them mess it up. Well, the gods above confirmed they hate me this morning when I didn’t wake up with a naked Alexander Skarsgard on my face (something I asked for last night, they are so rude). And they really confirmed they hate me when Netflix released the first official pictures of the new She-Ra. Those butcherers turned She-Ra and Catra into Fetus-Ra and Kittenra.
It’s the 150th anniversary of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, and it would appear Hollywood has decided to celebrate by lighting the whole thing on fire. There have been numerous film adaptations of Little Women over the years (I’m Winona-biased, but the best is the 1994 version). But there really hasn’t been a modern re-telling, until now. And after watching the trailer, you’ll be likely to be wishing they’d kept it that way.
Yesterday, I wrote about the disturbing and ugly news that the early-morning paradise for drunks that is IHOP is changing their name to IHOb, which sounds like a bowel condition that gives you the runs (fitting). IHOb isn’t announcing what the “b” stands for until Monday, but I hoped it was just a shameless stunt to promote some new b-named breakfast food and that IHOP wouldn’t turn their backs on pancakes. But now some people who claim they work for IHOP are spilling it. They say the “b” doesn’t stand for “breakfast,” it stands for “burgers.” I just… Trump became president, and now IHOP is ALLEGEDLY shitting on their
bread pancakes and butter and getting themselves a new whore and using cheap tactics to sell it? What happened to America?! Actually, that is very American.
IHOP is the perfect name for drunk messes like me. It’s short, easy to remember, and you can effortlessly slur out its name to your Lyft driver at 3 in the morning after you struck out from getting sausage at the bar and need to drown your miserable rejected loneliness with an actual sausage wrapped in a pancake and slathered with blueberry syrup. That name is perfect and should not be messed with. But because IHOP is an American corporation and American corporations love cackling into the air while fucking with our emotions by pulling some stupid stunt, they’re pulling, what could be, a stupid stunt. They announced on Twitter that they’re flipping the “P” and going from IHOP to IHOb. IHOb better stand for International House of bitch We’re Fucking With You For Attention Because Sales Are Down. (Although, I won’t hate them if they changed their name to honor one of my favorite viral videos and are now the International House of bitch Your Pancakes Look Fine To Me.)
Some Of Us Will Have To Get Up Before 4 In The Morning On A Saturday To Watch Prince Hot Ginge Get Married
And that commemorative spoon is the perfect thing to gag myself with while watching Prince Hot Ginge marry another!
Kensington Palace continued to slowly milk out every detail about PHG and Meghan Markle’s wedding today by announcing what time she’ll begin strutting down the aisle at St George’s Chapel to suck on her new husband’s face while throwing all of us a “Stay mad, ugly whores” look. Kensington Palace announced that the second biggest British royal wedding of the century (the first being Katie Price’s wedding with Peter Andre, duh) will start at noon London times on Saturday, May 19. That’s 4am my time. That means that the workers at my nearest Krispy Kreme should expect to find a drunken, bawling gay pounding at their door at around 5:15 and begging to be let in early so he can drown his sad insides with doughnut batter.
By the way, that headline note was for me and only me, probably.
The milking of Prince Hot Ginge and Meghan Markle’s wedding details produced a tiny drop last month when Kensington Palace announced that they will get married at St George’s Chapel sometime in May 2018. It was rumored that they were going to try to steal the spotlight from dead American soldiers by getting married on Memorial Day Weekend. But today, Kensington Palace announced that PHG will marry Meghan on May 19, 2018. (They’ll announce the time at the next milking.) May 19, 2018 is a Saturday, so there goes every British person’s dream that PHG and Meghan will marry on a weekday and it will be declared a Bank Holiday. They fucked you over. Call the British equivalent of your congressman now!