I have to admit that I fell down the rabbit hole once again and got involved in reading (not commenting because whoa, those people are smart) about Dooce’s tragic life. I wish you people (trigger word! makes me an asshole!) would let me know when she loses her shit because hello, I am out of the loop! I’m busy reading about how Taylor Armstrong is a lying whore and using the suicide of her husband to make money and y’all are in the know about trainwreck blogs. Not fair, fuckers. Her particular brand of
asshole mental illness lashed out and made itself known (again) way back on February 20 and NOBODY TOLD ME. Best you believe I was on that shit as soon as I found out and the rest is entitled, “Why Nance Did Not Do a Damn Thing Over The Weekend” brought to you by Dooce & Assoc. Being a nebshit (aka: nosy person) you know I was all up in those comments (and searching other sites) trying to find out new dirt (hell, old dirt too – I still haven’t figured out why she does not appear friendly with some of her former pals – Suburban Bliss, Finslippy, Fussy, etc.). I’m not going to sit here and explain it (no time!), but there is a part of me that is mortified that this is all playing out online in front of an audience. But I am fascinated. appalled. elated. I know. It’s shameful. I am ashamed.
The truth is I am also spinning out of control with delight (it’s fascinating to me because it’s supposedly real life). But the other part of my brain is just screaming for her to TAKE THE FINANCIAL HIT, TURN THE INTERNET OFF and SPARE THOSE CHILDREN, ASSHOLE.
I know there are a lot of you out there that like her. I know that a lot of you follow her life and have since she first got fired for blogging (dooced). I have done the same thing. Maybe it’s because I’ve been doing this online thing longer than her (hello, 1998 bitches), but I keep following even when I find her life completely uninteresting. Don’t get me wrong, I am all for her making money off of her site. You go, girl. But for me, I can’t understand why anybody who lives in a McMansion and considers themselves to be a fashionable human being would even think to include Ikea in their room design. Just no. Ikea is fabulous and wonderful. If you have an apartment. And yes, I’m well aware that I have an Ikea chair in my living room. I cringe every single time I look at it because it truly does not fit. But damn, it’s so comfortable. And also, I do not live in a McMansion. If I lived in a house like hers, that Ikea chair would be tossed quicker than you can say, “I wonder who will have to pay alimony?”
I’m outta here.
PS: New entry up over at Dinosaurs Can’t Eat Pizza. Get off your lazy ass, go read it, and comment. I’m starting to think of you as my ungrateful family. I bust my ass all day cooking a hot meal and…nothing. Humph. Ungrateful fuckers.